David Damrosch (What Is World Litrature)
David Damrosch (What Is World Litrature)
David Damrosch (What Is World Litrature)
Cnaptgr 2 I. •
David Damrosch
WHAT IS WORLD LITERATURE? (2003)
D
—
AVID DAMROSCH (B. 1953) SINCE 2009 holds the Chair of Comparative Literature at Harvard
University, where he is also Ernest Birnbaum Professor of
. Literature. Before, he taught for many years at Columbia University as a colleague of
Edward Said and Gayatri Spivak. He obtained his PhD in Comparative Literature from Yale, where he pursued
interests in a wide range of ancient and modern languages and l iteratures. A prolific author of both scholarly and
more popular material (he has written very entertainingly on The Buried Book The Loss and Recovery of the Great
Epic of Gilgamesh,.-2006), his work has been fr'ansiated ntcr variety •of •languages,
Chinese, Estonian, Hungarian, Turkish' and Pt --artiest' Although he had already started
writing on world literature in the ig9C.ir. .?s,-f, G .4003 established himself as the
_
leading expert in the field with What ,c teratoie Damrosch also served as editor-
in-chief of the multi-volume Longman of World Literature; which as of its
appearance in the early years of the twerp f century quickly established itself as the
most widely used anthology in the field .
We here reproduce a generous selection from What is World Literature?, with passages detailing
Damrosch's oft-cited definition of world literature as all literature that circulates, either in translation or
in the original„ beyond its own national or linguistic -
- cultural borders, of his "ellipse" metaphor approach to world literature, and his views on
translation. Many of these points had been made before, by Moulton, Strich, Guerard, Etiemble and others, but Damrosch
succeeded in brilliantly distilling them all into one briskly and entertainingly written book, which goes at least some way
towards explaining
its instant success.
•
For Marx and Engels, as for Goethe, world literature is the quintessential literatur e o f
_
The dramatic accelerappn of globalization since their era, however, has greatly complicated the idea of a world
literature. Most immediately, die sheer scope of the term today can b -r—ei-cind of scholarly panic. "What can one make of
such an idea?" Claudio Guillen has asked. "The sum total 4311 national literatures? A wild idea, unattainable in practice,
worthy not of an actual reader but of a deluded keeper of archives who is also a multimillionaire. The most harebrained
editor has never aspired to such a -thing" (The Challenge of Comparative Literature, 38).' Though it has avertain surface
plausibility, Guillen's objection is hardly decisive; after all, no one denies that the term "insect" is viable, even though
there are so many billions of insects in the world that no one person can ever be bitten by each of them. Still, the sum
total of the world's literatures can be sufficiently expressed by the blanket term "literature." The idea of world ,literature
can. usefully-continue to .mean a subset of the plenum of literature. f take world literature to encompass all literary works
that circulme heyo.ud,
their culture of origin, eitheriTitranSfation their Original:language (VirgilWailing-fad
•
Tn
LatInin-Europe). In its Most expanSive-Serise,.WOrld literature could include any work that has ever reached beyond
its home base, but Guillen's cautionary focus on actual readers makes good sense: a work only has an effective life as
world literature whenever, and wherever, it is actively present within a literary system beyond that of its original
culture.
A viable concept when delimited in this way, world literature still consists of a huge corpus of works. These works,
moreover, stem from widely disparate societies, with very different histories, frames of cultural reference, and poetics.
A specialist in classical Chinese poetry can gradually, over years of labor, develop a close familiarity with the vast
substratum beneath each brief T'ang Dynasty poem, but most of this context is lost to foreign readers when the poem
travels abroad. Lacking specialized knowledge, the foreign reader is likely to-impose domestic literary Lus5 on ih,
kireigri cork, and even careful scholarly attempts to read a fOreign work in light of a WeNt,•rn r rittr al the ory are
deeply problematic. As A. Owen Aldridge has said, "it is difficult to point to remarkably successful examples of the
pragmatic application of critical systems in a comparative context. The various theories cancel each other out" (The
Reemergence of World Literature, 3 3) Or as the Indian scholar D. Prempati has pointedly remarked, "I do not know
whether the innumerable Western critical models which, like multinationals, have taken over the Indian critical scene
would meaningfully
. - - serve any critical purpose at this juncture." ("Why Comparative Literature in India?", 63). 3 Some scholars
have argued that literary works across cultures do exhibit what Northrop Frye thought of as archetypes or what
more recently the French comparatist Etiemble has called "invariants." In his lively polemic Ouvertures) sur un
comparatisme planjtaire, Etiemble argued that common literary patterns must provide the necessary basis for any
truly global understanding of literature. Yet such universals quickly shade into vague generalities that hold less
and less appeal today, at a time when ideals of melting-pot harmony have faded in favor. Scholars of world
literature risk becoming little more than the literary ecotourists described by Susan Lanser, people "who dwell
mentally in one or two (usually Western) countries, summer metaphorically in a third , and visit other places for
brief interludes" ("Compared to What?" 281
A central argument of this book will be that, properly understood,world literature .is. not at alLfated to disinte.
grate into the c..-onflicting multiplicity of separate national traditionS; he swallowed up in the
white noise that
nor, on the other hand, need • it Janet Abu-Luahod
. has called "global babble." MY claim is that world literature is not an infinite, ungraspbable , a ,-,7)(ii_....lis'til ch:1tc.ilass;si.L.:_ari,_,..d il_..c`...'
ways in which Works of world literature can best and clarify the bil
,.t.;...:„
be read. It is impoi ta—; ---a'n
' lik
realize that just as there newer has been a single set canon of world litetraittuaren,tsionitcoso. no sin r,:...,-, i,
war of reading can be appropriate to all texts, or even to any one tex ,
of 1 I literature
P..
!' CO'
abilitV of a work won(' is one o .
strengths when the work is well presented and read wel, ---one of its greatest ...,.,-..
as
ture; second, by circulating out into a broader world beyond its linguistic It
point
ofolib.ain.A given work can enter into world literature and then fall out of it again if it shifts - ,..' . .17,-,.: del
beyond a threshold pointalong either axis, the literary or the worldly. Over the centuries, an
unusually shifty work can come in and out of the sphere of world.literature several different 1.
times; and at any given point, a work may function as world literature for some readers but -4(it, 2.
not others, and for some kinds of reading but not others. The shifts a work may undergo, ,!.... •
moreover, do not reflect the unfolding of some internal logic of the work in itself but come , -
about through often complex dynamics of cultural change and contestation... Very few works • ,. --
secure aluick and permanent place in the limited company of perennial World Masterpieces; . ft Eac
most works shift around over time, even moving into and out of the category of "the master- -. ! _.
piece," 1. . .1 i.
As it moves into the sphere of world literature, far from inevitably suffering a loss of - i; • " Ellif
authenticity or essence, a work can gain-itrmany ways. To follow this process, it is necessary :, A m'
to look closely at the transformations a work undergoes in particular circumstances, which is ' , , out!
why this book highlights the issues ofcirculat ion and translation and focuses on detailed case ' • 1- facu
studies throughout. To understand the workings of world literature, we need more a : ,. [' , :: ture
phenomenology than an ontology of the work of art a literary work man Pests differently,:-
abroad than it does at home. - •'.c --:-• ' tall)
E• . .1 --' ; .. - . wor
But how to mediate between broad, but otter. .7 liwtive, overview's and intensive, but - .. '
often atomism, close readings? .
n
One solution is to recognize that _we . don't face. an either/or choice between, global . ;ine;
systematicity and infinite textual multiplicity, for world literature itself is constituted vet trap .
differently in different cultures. Much can be learned from a close attention to the workings
of a given cultural system, at a scale of analysis that also allows for extended discussion of was
specific works. A culture's norms and needs profoundly slppe the selection of works that arth
enter into it as world literature, influencing the ways they are translated, marketed, and read.
l• • 1
For any given observer, even a genuinely global perspective remainsa perspective fi:cim
somewhere, and global patterns of the circulation fart
of world literature take shape in their local mar
-manifest -ations. ' trac
.
1. ..] .
rect nati
.
Conclusion: world enough and time lite]
cull
And so, what is world literature? I have conceived this book as a demonstration as much as an ,,. dew
i , •
essay in definitio n, seeking to show the kinds of work now in our view and some of the wars that
they can be approached. 1 have dwelt on some of the texts that have obsessed me Over
the years and that seemed particularly suggestive on issues of circulation, translation, new
'•• a
and l"`
cull
___
production. In the process, much as Eckermann giV'es us his Goethe, 1 have given you my world liter-attire, or at least a
representative cress--section of it, -+while -Fecognizing that the world now presents us with material so varied as to call into question any
logic of representation, any single framework that everyone should adopt and in which these particular works would all have
a central role. A leading characteristic of world literature today is its variability: different readers will be obsessed by very
different constellations of texts. While figures like Dante and Kafka retain a powerful canonical status, these authors function
today less as a common patrimony than as rich nodes of overlap among many different and highly individual
groupings.
Amid all this variety, family resemblances can be found among the different forms of
world literature circulating today, emergent patterns that lead me to propose a threefold definition focused on the world, the
text, and the reader:
Understanding the term "national" broadly, we can say that works continue to bear the
, . marks of their national origin even after they circulate into world literature, and yet these traces are increasingly diffused and
become ever more sharply refracted as a work travels
1-, farther from home.
This refraction, moreover, is double in nature: works become world literature by being received into the space of a
foreign culture, a space defined in many wvays by the host culture's national tradition and the present needs of its own
writers. Even a single work of world literatur e is the locus of a negotiation between two different cultures. The receiving
culture can use the foreign material in all sorts of ways: as a positive model for the future development of its own tradition;
as a negative case of a primitive, or decadent, strand
must be avoided or rooted out at home; or, more neutrally, as an image of radical otherness
against which the home tradition can more clearly be defined. World literature is thus always as much about the host
culture's values and needs as it is about a work's source .-.,,culture; hence it is a double refraction, one that can be
described through the figure of the 2 0 2 D A V I D
ellipse, s% ith the source and host cultures providing the two foci that generate the elliptical space within which a wee -k-
lives as-world literature, connected to both cultures, circum-
scribed by neither alone.
1. • .1
Whether it is pursued individually or collaboratively work on World literature should b e
acknowleclvecl as different in kind from work within a national tradition, just as the NvorkL. themselves manifest
differently abroad than at home. This . does not mean that we should simply ignore the local -knowledge that specialists
possess, as literary theorists of the past generation often did when developing their comprehensive theories. 1. . .1 A
student of world literature has much to gain from an active engagement with specialized
knowledge.
At the same time, though, this knowledge is best deployed selectively, with a kind of scholarly tact. When our purpose
is not to delve into a culture in detail, the reader and even the work itself may benefit by being spared the full force -of our
local knowledge.
-I
intimately aware of a work's life at home, the specialist is not always in the best position
to assess the dramatically different terms on which it may engage with a distant culture. Looking at such new contexts, the
generalist will find that Much of the specialist's information about the work's origins is no longer relevant and not only can
but should be set aside. At the same time, any work that has not been wholly assimilated to its new context will still carry
with it many elements that can best be understood by exploring why they came to be there in the fit-t\place. The specialist's
knowledge is the major safeguard against the generalist's own will to\power aver texts that otherwise all too easily become
grist for the mill of a preformed historical argument or theoretical system.
When I distinguish "specialists" from "generalists," I mean to characterize approaches as much as individuals. Just as a
work can function either at home or abroad, so too any given person can be both a specialist in some areas and a generalist in
others. When we are employing a generalist approach, we should not simply East off our specialist selves—nor our specialist
colleagues. Generalists, have much to learn tr,i,rn ,irt ialists, and should always try to build honestly, though selectively, on the
specialists' understandings, ideally even inspiring the specialists-to revise their understandings in turn. Too often, a generalist
who alludes dismissiyely to-the narrow-minded concents-olspecialis. ts merely ends up retailing a warmed-over version of what
specialists had been saying a generation earlier. Instead, the-generalist should feel the same ethical responsibility toward
specialized scholarship that a translator has toward a text's original language: to understand the work effectively in its new
cultural or theoretical context while at the sametime8etting it right in a fundamental way with reference
to the source culture. -
This brings us to my second point: World literature is writing that gains in translation. There is a significant difference between
literary language and the various forms of ordinary, denotative language, whose meaning we take to be largely expressed as
information. A text is read as literature if we dwell on the beauties of its language, its form, and its themes, and don't take it
as primarily factual in intent; but the same text can cease to work as literature if a reader turns to it primarily to extract
information from it, as when George Smith read The Epic of Gilgamesh to confirm the biblical history of the Flood, regretting
that the account had been "disfigured by poetical adornments." Informational texts neither gain nor lose in a good translation:
their meaning is simply carried over with little or no effective change. Treaties and contracts can be complex documents, but if
well drafted and well translated, they are understandable to all parties concerned. They may be breached from the pressure of
changing W H A T I S W O R L D L I T E R A T U R E ? 2 0 3
la circumstances or through misinicr pi etations that analy to all the document's versions, 1,,, t treaties rarely fail because of
problems arising from translation per se.
% At the other extreme, some works are so inextricably connected to their original language and moment that they really
cannot be effectively translated at all. Purist views of literary language often take all poetry as "what is lost in translation,"
in Robert Frost's fariaou phrase, 'since whatever meaning a new language can convey is irretrievably sundered from the
verbal music of the Original. "A poem should not mean/But be," as Archibald Macleish wrote in 1926 in his "Ars Poetica," in
lines that convey their own declarative meaning with surprising success. Much poetry, including Frost's and Macleish's, has
been translated with great effect into many languages. It is more accurate to say that some works are not translatable without
substantial loss, and so they remain largely within their local or national context, never achieving an effective life as world
literature.
it is important to recognize that the question of translatability is distinct from questions of value. A work can hold a
prominent place within its own culture but read poorly elsewhere, either because its language doesn't translate well or
because its cultural assumptions don't travel. Snorri Sturluson's dynastic saga Heimskringla is a major document in medieval
Nordic culture, but it only makes compelling reading if you are fairly knowledgeable about the political history of Norway
and Iceland, and it remains unknown abroad outside specialist circles- By contrast, Norse mythological texts like the Elder
Edda and Snorri's own Prose Edda have been widely translated and much appreciated. They are actually harder to
understand than the Heimskringla, but they treat themes of broad interest in striking, if often mysterious; language. Equally,
a work's viability as world literature has little to do with its author's perspective on the world. There can be no more glob al
work, conceptually speaking, than Finnegan Wake, vet its prose is so intricate and irreproducible that it becomes a sort of
curiosity in Translation. Dubliners, a far more localized work, has been much more widely translated and has had a far
greater impact in other languages.
literary language is thus language that either gams or loses in translation, in contrast to nonliterary language, which
typically does neither The balance of credit and loss remains a - distinguishing mark of national versus Ah arid literature
literature stays within its national or regional tradition when it usually loses in translation. whereas works become world
litera-tare when they gain on balance in translation, st limit losses offset by an expansion in depth as they increase their
range, as is the case with such widely disparate works as The Epic of Gilgamesh and Dictionay of the Khazars. It follows from this that
the study of world literature should embrace translation far more actively than it has usually done to date.
I- - -1
It is often said that quite apart from individual innovation, literary language is particularly hard to translate since so-much
of the meaning depends on culture-specific patterns of connotation and nuance. Yet one could equally make a very different
argument: after all, literature is often distinguished from film and television by the fact that the reader is required to fill in the
scene, which is not given outright as it is on the screen. As Wolfgang Iser argued in The Act of Reading, literary narratives work
less by communicating fixed information than
by creating suggestive
gaps that the reader must fill in. Iser further emphasized (against
Roman Ingarden) that different readers wiffnecessarily, and productively, fill in these gaps in different ways.
presents
a
What is true of an literary work is doibsley true soiltuwattiirolnd ilnitewrahtiucrhe;a,s A ibsoeroksat)-e,sa,( ina
language and within one context
will p n
differ but "the text itself cannot change" and exerts a powerful limiting force on thiree‘d,oaernri(s: ability of readcrly response 0 67).s
Traveling abroad, though, a text does indeed change, both in its frame of reference and usually in language as well. In an excellent
translation, the result is not the loss of an unmediated original vision but instead a heightening of the naturally creative interaction of
reader and texteln this respect a poem or novel can be seen to achieve its lasting effect precisely by virtue of its adaptability to
our private experience.
I. • -1
Of course, some elements of a literary work arc more freely variable than others, and a
large part of a translator's interpretive responsibility lies in determining which particula r patterns of sound, imagery, or
implication arc important to carry over as directly as possibl e. Yet even elements that cannot be directly reproduced in
the new language can often be conveyed at a different level -of the text. Some of Kafka's self-deconstructing
sentences really
can't be rendered in English without a substantial loss of ironic play, and yet the irony w e label "Kafkaesque" is fully
conveyed at the levels of the paragraph and of the scene, even if not always at the level of the individual sentence.
I. • -1
To use translations means to accept the reality that texts come to us mediated by existing
frameworks of reception and interpretation. We necessarily work in collaboration with others who have shaped what we
read and how we read it. Indeed, any works written in an earlier period in our own country reach us in much the same
way that Walter Benjamin describes translation itself: "a translation issues from the original—not so much from its life as
from its afterlife. for a translation conies later'than the original, and since the important works of world literature never
find their chosen translators at the time of their origin, their translation marks their stage of continued life" ("The Task of
the Translator," 71).6A specialist equipped with ample research materials can do much to approximate a return to the
world in which in old or foreign poem was composed. The generalist, concerned with the poem's worldrafterlife, doesn't
have that luxury, or even that necessity.
Its relative freedom from context does not require the work of world literature to be subjected to anything like an
absolute disconnect from its culture of origin. Anyone involved in translating or teaching works from other cultures must
always weigh how much cultural
information is needed and how it should be presented One health .), consequence of the .•
increasing.acknowledgment that a translation is a translation has been a greater CiperineSs in — providing contextual
information, Often in the past translators gave. no such information at all, or folded it silently into the translation itself so as
to preserve the seeming purity of the text—though in reality they had to distort the text in order to avoid disrupting a
supposedly direct encounter of -reader and work. Especially when the text in "question 'was both old and foreign, translations
were forced either to become very loose paraphrases (Burton's Arabian Nights) or to assimilate closely to host-country norms
(Edward Fitzgerald's - Rubeiipt e Omar Khayyam). Scholarly readers, by contrast, would be given heavily annotated bilingual
editions, full of cultu.ral information but with the translation often only marginally
readable.
1- • -1
Whereas the specialist attempts to enter as fully as possible into the source culture, the student of world literature
stands outside, very much as Benjamin describes translation itself standing outside a work's original language, facing a
wooded ridge that each of us will forest with our own favorite trees: "Unlike a work of literature, translation does not find
itself in the center of the language forest but on the outside facing the wooded ridge; it calls into it
without entering, aiming at that single spot where the echo is able to give,
the reverberation of the work in the alien one" (76). in its own language.
And so to the final part of my definition of world literature: not a set canon of texts hut a mode of reading, a detached
engagement with a world beyond our own. At any given time, a fluctuating number of foreign works will circulate actively within a
culture, and a subset of these will be widely shared and enjoy a canonical status, but different groups within a society, and
different
individuals w
ithin any group, will create distinctive congeries of works, blending ca ipnical and noncanonical works into ellective
microcanons.
1- •1
The texts themselves exist both together and alone: when we read Dante, we are aware that we arc encountering a major work
of world literature, one that draws on a wealth of previous writing and that casts its shadow ahead onto much that will follow
it. Yet even as we register such connections, we are also immersed! within Dante's singultr world, an imagined universe very
unlike any envisioned by Virgil or by Saint Paul, and one that Milton, .Gogol, and Walcott will radically revise in turn for very
different purposes of their.own.
l• •-1
The great conversation of world literature takes place on two very different levels: among i
authors who know and react to one another's work, and in the mind of the reader, where
works meet and interact in ways that may have little to do with cultural and historical
proximity. Someone who reads Swann's Way and The Tale of Genji together is likely -ii
.. _:
i.it
to find them resonating in multiple and profound ways, engaging one another at least as .
closely as a reader who is attentive to national traditions will find Proust engaging with Balzac, or the
Genji with The Tale of the Heike. Vi orld literature is fully in play once several foreign works begin to di
resonate together in our mind. This provides a further solution to the comparatist's lurking panic:
world literature is not an immense body of material that must somehow, impossibly, be mastered; it
is a mode of reading that can be experienced intensively with a few works just as effeCtiVely as it can
be explored extensively with a large number. 51
11
le
ac
1- • .1 ,
o
Immersion- in a single culture represents a mode of relati‘ely direct engagement with it, ad
aptly symbolized by efforts to acquire "near-native fluent:N.' in the culture's language. Reading
and studying world literature, by contrast, is inficrenth a morn detached mode of engage-ment; .h
it enters into a different kind of dialogue with the v‘ork, not one involving iclentifica-tion or
3e
mastery but the discipline of distance and of aillierence. We encounter the work not at the
heart of its source-culture but in the held of force generated among worksthat niay - come from
-
very different cultures and eras.
?.n
This elliptical relation already characterizes our experience of a foreign national s
o
tradition, but there is likely to be a significant difference of degree, both because the ellipses
i-
multiply and because the angle of refraction increases. Works of world literature interact in a
e
charged field defined by a fluid and multiple set of possibilities of juxtaposition and combi-
.nation: "intercourse in every direction," in Marx and Engels's apt phrase. As we triangulate . ri
between our own present situation and the enormous variety of other cultures around and si
before us, we won't see works of world literature so fully enshrined within their cultural I
context as - we do when reading those works within their own traditions, but a degree of
distance from the home tradition can help us to appreciate the ways in which a literary work .
reaches out and away from its point of origin. If we then observe ourselves seeing the work's
abstraction from its origins, we gain a new vantage point on our own moment. The result may
1 be
1 almost the opposite of the "'fusion of horizons" that Friedrich Schleiermacher envisioned Y
when we encounter a distant text: We may actually experience our customary horizon being set
askew, under the influence of works whose foreignness remains fully in view'.
No te s
See the Guilli;:n selection in this volume.
See the Owen selection in this volume.
Prempati, D. "Why comparative Literature in India?" In R.K. Dhawan,
New Delhi: Bahri, 1987. lip. 3 3-65, Compatatite literature, ..
e
' , . ‘
206 DAVID DAMROSCH NI
4 . 1 anser, Susan Sniader. "Compared to What? Global Feminism, Comparatism, and the VIa'tT's Tools." In Margaret Higonnet, ed., Burderwork:
Feminine Eng,gements wirh Compam„., I, feroturc,
Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994, pp. 280 300. %
3 Iser, Wolfgang. The ..ict of. Reading: zi Theory ,:f Aesr hetcA, Ian.,. Fr. 1, a% id Henry Wilson. Baltimit,:
j o h n s
Hopkins University Press, 1978.
6 Benjamin, Walter. "The Task of the Translator." In Illuminations, ed. Hannah Arendt, tr. Harry ohn, —