Italian is a musical language, and poetry in Italian would be the cherry on top. Sometimes the beauty of language gets lost in translation, as is often the case with Urdu ghazals. However, the translators of The Grace of My Home by Julio Monteiro Martins (Donald Wang and Helen Wickes) have successfully captured his vivid images and wordplay.
The Grace of My Home is the first time Martins’ poems are available as a collection in English. As the title suggests, Martins’ poetry evokes his homes – Brazil and Italy – evocatively. The book is an insight in his mind, his proclivity for wordplay, and his skill in employing poetic devices.
‘By the Grace of Words’
is one poem in this book that caught my attention. The narrator talks candidly
about how he ‘used to have such a fear/of abstract nouns/’ that he ‘even felt
safe/among the adjectives. Language is often a refuge for some of us, a home
for our thoughts. Others who think visually, may consider images to be their
sanctuary.
The poem goes on to
talk about how ‘nouns would parade inside’ him, within reach of his ‘verbs.’
Towards the end, the poet talks about how there were ‘Too many subjects/without
a predicate.’ Such poems translate well, as they have strong images and metaphors.
Martins’ gift for irony is clearly seen in ‘Elective Affinities,’ where he talks about how he should stop writing about friends, ‘(or writing about anything).’ That leaves out a great deal of material, which he lists – controversies, lies ‘(but there are so many…how will I remember them all?)’ This would resonate with readers, as we all have mental filters, on what we can share with which group, no matter how close we may be to a friend.
The poem touches on a common worry - friends often wonder if they are going to end up in their author friend’s book. As Nora Ephron said, ‘everything is copy.’ The poet ends by saying he ‘will give them the maximum/ of every bit of my minimum.’ What will become then of him and his art, the reader wonders. Tennyson’s depiction of the artist’s dilemma, whether to be part of the world or write about it, that he showed in ‘The Lady of Shalott,’ comes to mind.
The next poem, ‘Melania’ paints a detailed picture of domestic life, where the actress wife is physically present but always mentally in her world of theatre, and so has no time, space, or energy for her husband. Martins’ versatility is displayed here, in this narrative poem, with its strong characterisation of both the husband and wife.
In the poem ‘Eclipsing the Taj Mahal,’ Martins wonders whether Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a monument to love rather than Noor Jahan. He contrasts himself with the king, saying that he would not build the Taj Mahal. He would see himself ‘dissolve/like a pat of butter/in the center of the pan.’ This contrarian view of love was refreshing.
Martins’ irony is seen again in the poem, as he ends with the reason why he would not erect the Taj Mahal – to protect others from the ‘crater-like feeling/left by love,’
‘To protect those who
do not love/from viewing the crater, /the vertigo of seeing all the way to the
very bottom.’ His unusual metaphors for love catch the reader’s attention, and
make them view love in a different light.
My favourite lines were in the closing poem ‘Music,’ where Martins says ‘Beauty/had entered in me. /A gentle intoxication of music.’ That indeed, is music, and music literally enters us via our ears, so this was a skilful turn of phrase.
Martins’ circumstances – Brazil and Italy - are evident in his poems. He was born in Brazil and worked as a lawyer there. He was one of the founders of the Brazilian Green Party and also co-founded an environmental movement.
A prolific writer with a diverse range, he published nine books in Brazil – novels, short stories, and essays. He also founded a publication press and taught creative writing.
The Grace of My Home is worth a read, and reminds us of cultures other than American, which have taken over our consciousness to a great extent in recent times. Martins’ poetry may even nudge some of us (a la Jhumpa Lahiri), to learn Italian, so that we can appreciate its musicality in the original.
Original Text: ItalianTranslator: Donald Wang and Helen Wickes
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