Abstract:  In this paper, I propose to look at translation from at least three perspectives: Translation as a personal enterprise; as a cultural enterprise with a social mission; as cartographing social demography or translation as public enterprise.  It is obvious that we obtain here translated texts that are movements in cultural descriptions that shape our living.

The paper discusses the cultural implications of a book titled Into the World of Kutiyattam published by Natanakairali in Kerala, and explores the articulation of public space where translation takes place in a significant way, in particular Mananchira Square in Calicut city. It is imperative to recognize these sites as cultural texts if we are to arrive at a description of the cultural matrix that we help to translate every instant.

Rather than limit the idea of translation, this paper proposes to extend and push the implications of the term to different sites in my cultural experience.

Introduction

       Translation, Translation Studies, and translation theories are variously involved in the shaping of cultural discourses. It is a general practice to recognize the original text and the translated text in translation theory, where the text is invariably made of words. Much the same is true when one translates from one language to another. Writing his introduction to Rethinking Translation, Lawrence Venuti draws attention to a number of questions that concern the translator and translation. He writes: "To be a 'leading' translator today is not only to produce translations that are highly accomplished, favourably reviewed, and award-winning, but it also means sheer quantity, executing numerous projects, practicing translation as a steady if meager source of income, gaining an economic advantage over other translators in the competition for foreign texts and the negotiation of fees”(venuti 1992:1). He also laments the fact that the translators are not "critically self-conscious writers who develop an acute awareness of the cultural and social conditions of their work”(ibid :1). It is obvious here that the reference is to literary texts for the questions he addresses and the discussions available on translation invariably are on the attendant problems, challenges, and issues relating to the literary text.

    For my purposes, I wish to understand translation not merely in linguistic terms, caught invariably in the binary of the original and translated text. I use the word 'text' not just in literary terms, as say a poem written by K.G. Sankara Pillai in Malayalam that is translated into English or some other language. A dream, or an orthodox tradition handed down from generation to generation in a text may also be translated with an ‘acute’ awareness of the cultural and social conditions that is free of the strangulation of binarism. Again, the city, for instance, is a text for me subject to translation. I will be using these two terms, if one wishes to say, in a flexible manner to discuss some issues important for me. I also hope to look at the possible impact of translation on texts.

                 I have divided my paper into three parts to address three specific aspects of translation. They are

• Translation as a personal enterprise;
• Translation as a cultural enterprise with a social mission; and
• Translation as cartographing social demography or translation as a public enterprise.

I

     Let me unapologetically say that I will be speaking from my personal experience with a remarkable institution in Kerala. In Irinjalakuda in Kerala, there is a Research and Performing Centre for Traditional Arts called Natanakairali, which houses a Gurukulam that trains students in the hoary and ancient Sanskrit theatre called Kutiyattam. This is one of the oldest, living and surviving form of theatre in the world. As part of the Documentation of Kutiyattam Series, the director of Natanakairali G. Venu was bringing out his memoir in Malayalam and English and wrote to me asking whether I would translate the manuscript from Malayalam to English to which I promptly agreed. As I was translating the manuscript, there were some questions I had on the reason for such an enterprise and my role in the project.

     For me, the project was not merely the change of the linguistic script from Malayalam to English. As I was aware of the kind of activities and programmes of Natanakairali, I saw the translation was more for the promotion of the art form at an international level. It was also a tribute to the living legend in Kutiyattam, Guru Ammannur Madhava Chakyar. The job of the translator at this point was to market culture to a larger and diverse audience. For me as a boy, Kutiyattam figured in a popular Malayalam song, in the magnificent paint that described the face of the character, and in the dim awareness that it is an art form performed in the koothambalam of the temple as part of a ritual. I had not seen any live performance until I started my teaching career. There is a popular view that Kutiyattam is difficult to understand. What is even more curious is that the State Government has done little to recognize the value of this heritage nor acknowledged the contribution of Guru Ammannur to theatre.

   It was in this context that the importance of the translation assumed significance for me. It is true that subsequent Governments in Kerala have promoted tourism with their catchy slogan, aggressively marketing cultural packages for tourists. With their bonsai versions of Kathakali and Theyyam, the department of tourism was always going global. The translation project was, in this context, an attempt from the grass root level to consolidate further the work at Natanakairali. However, translation as cultural enterprise came under scrutiny as the work progressed. For, the question that popped up most was whether translation transforms culture into commodity. The tourism department had effected their translation of other art forms for immediate un-reflexive consumption. Here was the danger of translation becoming mutilation, striking at the form and language of the art form.

    It is important to be aware that translations do become saleable products, especially when there is an agreement with the publisher. And as with any other book, the publishing industry has an important stake in the case of translations, more so for they effect a further transition of the book into cultural expression, into commodity. It is clear that the conditions that are instrumental in any translation project like the involvement of the publisher, choice of text, culture, language of the text, reputation of the author, and of the translator, to identify some factors, decide the circulation of the finished product and with that the economics and marketability of this cultural dissemination. In the present case, the book was to be brought out by Natanakairali as part of its larger attempts at documentation and with specific target audience. Though the commodification of books in the present distribution system is inevitable, though the sale of this book may be networked with the publications industry, the inevitable nexus translation and commodification has to be addressed earnestly.

     I would now like to touch briefly upon one other translation done for Natanakairali on the hand gestures in Kathakali. Translation generally involves printed texts that form the original for the intervention of the translator into another language. But when it comes to a proto-lingual text, how does one discuss the process of translation? What is the experience when one translates proto-languages? G. Venu had written down in Malayalam notations for some gestures in Kathakali that had to be translated into English. But then for many of the hand gestures, he would show them and I had to translate all the gestures into English on the spot. I have no training whatsoever in Kathakali or other art forms and I was aware that what I was seeing was the result of years of training and research in the field.

     The questions of cultural production for mass consumption did not arise in this translation. This was partly the elaboration of his earlier publication in Malayalam. I realized then that translation does not always involve written texts, that what one generally understands as text needs to be revised. Equally important was the awareness that The Language of Kathakali is incidentally made available in English, that the experience and emotion communicated through the hand gestures are beyond the printed words in translation. The lack of narrative, or a coherent story line and the technicality of the printed text seem to point here a rather utilitarian function for the translator and translation.

II

     A translation can reveal other translated intentions. This was an insight I gained as I read G. Venu's manuscript for translation. A translation need not always be the act of negotiation with or intervening into a text to re-create and rewrite it in a different language. It could be manifest as a cultural enterprise with social bearing, such flexibility in the usage helps locate the idea of translation at the level of social commitment. In Into the World of Kutiyattam (Venu 2002), Venu narrates the establishment of a kalari by Chachu Chakyar: "Chachu Chakyar wished fervently to see Koothu and Kutiyattam triumph over time. Impelled by this desire he organized a Kutiyattam Kalari (Training centre) in his own household. He relied entirely on his own modest means of maintaining it”(ibid :38). In 1982 with the help of Sangeet Natak Akademi, a Gurukulam was established in Venu's rented house. The future of this theatre was very bleak as recent as the 1970's. Venu's translation of the result of a training programme he could only imagine after witnessing Ammannur's performance, speaks of a cultural consciousness necessary for every translator: "It became my life's dream to mould a young generation of artistes trained in his art by imparting the same rigorous training received by Ammannur”(ibid :17).

       The Kalari started by Chachu Chakyar was being used then as living quarters. The Gurukulam emerged as a translation of a dream Chachu Chakyar had. This is an important development in the history of Kutiyattam, especially with the orthodox Chakyar families, as the art form was traditionally handed down from generation to generation within the family. The Gurukulam translated Chachu Chakyar's wish to "triumph over time” in the new school where training is given to non-Chakyars. It is also to be mentioned that the Kerala Kalamandalam has a Kutiyattam department; the Margi School in Trivandrum also trains aspirants in this theatre.

      There are far reaching cultural implications here, for only Chakyars are permitted to perform inside the Koothambalam in temples. There was an outcry when Venu had his Arangettam in Trivandrum in the 1984 Kutiyattam festival. Generally, Kutiyattam is performed only in the Koothambalam. Writes Venu, "With a lot of heart ache Madhava Chakyar and myself decided to have the next Kutiyattam festival in a convenient place outside the temple which could attract all lovers of art”(ibid :61). The Gurukulam has trained the younger generation and has festivals every year at Natanakairali so that they get good stage exposure. The younger generation has now performed in a number of countries, perhaps making what was once confined to the Koothambalam an intense art form amenable to translation across cultures. Translation, in this sense, becomes transformation of an entire way of life of the Chakyar family as well as the theatre.

      What distinguishes this clearly from the bonsaification of art is that this theatre experience is not opted into market economics, focused as it is on the continuation of a theatre tradition that was highly stylized and yet intensely emotional. So, at the Festival of India in London, at the Riverside Studio, London, Guru Ammannur's troupe performed Balivadham.

        What is unique about this production is that Bali's death scene is done elaborately. The theatre director suggested that, "Such an elaborate enactment of death scene will never be appreciated by our audience. It will be better if you reduce its duration”(ibid :31). But Guru Ammannur who did the role of Bali did not comply. "The theatre director could not believe what he saw, the packed audience sat with bated breath till the end of the death scene”(ibid :31). Kenneth Rae of The Guardian wrote: "…one of the bravest and most outrageous pieces of acting I have ever seen. Who else would dare take 15 minutes to die on stage, and get away with it?”(ibid :31)

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