Anarchistbanjo's World

Alraune by Hanns Heinz Ewers and translated by Joe E Bandel

Translating Alraune
“Deine Tage sind wie die schweren Trauben blauer Glyzenen,
tropfen hinab zum weichen Teppich: so schreitet mein leichter Fuss
weich dahin durch die sonnenglitzernden Laubengänge deiner sanften
Tage.”
Your days are like the heavy (grapes/bunches/clusters) blue
Glyzenen, dropping down to soft carpet: so stride my light feet softly
in them through the sun glistening arbor your gentle days.
What the hell does “Glyzenen” mean? Look it up in the
dictionary; it’s not there. Google it on the internet; it’s not there. Try
some online German-English dictionaries; it’s not there…
What did Endore write? “glycinias” Well, what does that mean?
Look it up in the dictionary; it’s not there. Google it on the internet;
ah, there it is–Archaic German word for wisteria–not used anymore–
Maybe back when he translated it some old Germans were still alive
that knew the meaning of the word.
[Editor’s note: S. Guy Endore translated a 1929 version of
Alraune for John Day Publishing Company]
What is “Wisteria”? Google it on the internet–Oh, what beautiful
thick flowers. We don’t have those here in northern Minnesota. Now
let’s get back to the translation. “Dropping down to soft carpet?” That
can’t be right. Wisteria grows outside and doesn’t fall onto the carpet!
When those thick blossoms fall they will form a carpet on the ground
though! Let’s try it like this:
Your days are like the heavy blue clusters of wisteria dropping
down to form a soft carpet. My feet stride lightly and softly through
them as I enter the glittering sunlight in the arbor of your gentle days.
Just for grins let’s see what Endore came up with.
“Your days drop out of your life even as the heavy clusters of
blue glycinias shed their blossoms one by one upon the soft carpet.
And I tread lightly through the long, sunny arbors of your mild
existence.”
What the hell! That’s not even close! Where did he come up with
that “days dropping” and “blossoms one by one” bit? None of that is
in the text at all. Obviously he was embellishing a bit. (Something
that Endore did quite a bit of.)
Such was my experience with the very first pages of Alraune.
But it was not my last. The John Day version of Alraune turned out
to be very mangled and censored to boot. There are different types of
censorship and I ran into most of them. Let’s take chapter five to give
some brief examples.
Now in the story Alraune’s father agrees to cooperate with the
experiment in exchange for a couple bottles of whiskey the night
before he is executed. Thus he is so drunk the next morning that they
have to help him walk up to where the sentence of death is read to
him. Suddenly he realizes what is about to happen, sobers up
immediately, says “something” and begins to fight back. But first he
utters a word–What is that word? It may give a clue to the entire
incident. Let’s see how it really goes:
She laughed, “No, certainly not. Well then –but reach me
another slice of lemon. Thank you. Put it right there in the cup! Well
then –he said, no –I can’t say it.”
“Highness,” said the Professor with mild reproof.
She said, “You must close your eyes first.”
The Privy Councilor thought, “Old monkey!” but he closed his
eyes. “Now?” he asked.
She still hesitated, “I –I will say it in French –”
“That’s fine, in French then!” He cried impatiently.
Then she pressed her lips together, bent forward and whispered
in his ear, “Merde!”
Of course “Merde!” means “Shit!” in French. He said “Shit!”,
sobered up and started fighting for his life! Let’s see what the John
Day version did with it.
She laughed. “Of course not. How silly. Well –just let me have a
piece of lemon. Thanks –put it right into the cup! –Well, then, as I was
saying –but no, really, I can’t tell you.”
“Your Highness!” the Professor said in a tone of genial
reproach.
Then she said: “You’ll have to shut your eyes.”
The Councilor thought to himself, “What an old ass.” But he
closed his eyes. “Well,” he asked.
But she resisted coyly. “I’ll –I’ll tell it to you in French.”
“Very well then, Let it be –French!” he cried impatiently.
She pursed her lips, bent her head to his and whispered the
offending word into his ear.
As you see, we don’t even get to know what the word was in the
John Day edition and a subtle nuance has been lost. Still, you might
think I am making mountains out of molehills. What difference does
that little bit have to do with the story? Well let’s take a more
substantial piece of censorship. Later in the same chapter almost one
entire page of text has been censored. I won’t share it here because it
will spoil the story but this entire section was omitted from the John
Day version. Curiously enough Mahlon Blaine illustrated a portion of
it which shows that he was familiar with it. It was translated but
didn’t make it into the book.
Something that is also missing in the John Day edition is much
of the emotional content and beauty of the writing itself. Consider this
paragraph at the end of chapter five:
There is one other curious thing that remains in the story of these
two people that without ever seeing each other became Alraune’s
father and mother, how they were brought together in a strange
manner even after their death. The Anatomy building janitor,
Knoblauch, threw out the remaining bones and tatters of flesh into a
common shallow grave in the gardens of the Anatomy building. It was
behind the wall where the white roses climb and grow so abundantly.
How heart wrenching and touching in its own way! Let’s see
how the Endore version handles it:
Again the bodies of these two, who, though they had never seen
each other, yet became Alraune ten Brinken’s father and mother,
were most curiously joined in still another manner after their death.
Knoblauch, the old servant who cleaned out the dissecting rooms,
threw the remaining bones and bits of flesh into a hastily prepared
shallow ditch in the rear of the anatomy garden, back there against
the wall, where the white hedge-roses grow so rankly.
When you consider that nearly every single chapter of the John
Day version has been gutted of its emotional content in one way or
another, it is not surprising that it never became as popular with the
reading public as it did it Germany. There it could be read in its
entirety as the author intended. For the first time Alraune is now
available to the English speaking world in an uncensored version that
brings the life and emotion back into the story. I am proud to have
been able to be a part in the restoration of this classic work of horror.
A final note for those that have read the John Day version:
What I read then is different, entirely different, has different
meaning and I present her again like I find her, wild, hot –like
someone that is full of all passions!
–Joe E. Bandel

Arsis
Will you deny, dear girl, that creatures can exist that are–not
human–not animal–strange creatures created out of absurd thoughts
and villainous desires?
You know good, my gentle girl, good is the Law; good are all our
rules and regulations; good is the great God that created these
regulations, these rules, these laws.
Good also is the man that values them completely and goes on
his path in humility and patience in true obedience to our good God.
But there is another King that hates good. He breaks the laws
and the regulations. He creates – note this well – against nature. He
is bad, is evil, and evil is the man that would be like him. He is a child
of Satan.
It is evil, very evil to go in and tamper with the eternal laws and
with insolent hands rip them brazenly out of place.
He is happy and able to do evil – because Satan, who is a
tremendous King, helps him. He wants to create out of his prideful
wish and will, wants to do things that shatter all the rules, that
reverse natural law and stand it on its head.
But he needs to be very careful: It is only a lie and what he
creates is always lunacy and illusion. It towers up and fills the
heavens – but collapses at the last moment and falls back to bury the
arrogant fool that thought it up –
His Excellency Jacob Ten Brinken, Dr. med., Ord. Professor and
Counselor created a strange maiden, created her – against nature. He
created her entirely alone, though the thought belonged to another.
This creature, that was baptized and named Alraune, grew up
and lived as a human child. Whatever she touched turned to gold,
where ever she went became filled with wild laughter.
But whoever felt her poisonous breath, screamed at the sins that
stirred inside them and on the ground where her feet lightly tread
grew the pale white flower of death. It struck dead anyone that was
hers except Frank Braun, who first thought of her and gave her life.
It’s not for you, golden sister, that I write this book. Your eyes
are blue and kind. They know nothing of sins. Your days are like the
heavy blue clusters of wisteria dropping down to form a soft carpet.
My feet stride lightly and softly through them as I enter the glittering
sunlight in the arbor of your gentle days. I don’t write this book for
you my golden child, gracious sister of my dream filled days –
But I write it for you, you wild sinful sister of my hot nights.
When the shadows fall, when the cruel ocean devours the beautiful
golden sun there flashes over the waves a swift poisonous green ray.
That is Sins first quick laugh over the alarmed dying day.
That’s when you extend yourself over the still water, raise
yourself high and proclaim your arrival in blighted yellows, reds and
deep violet colors. Your sins whisper through the deep night and
vomit your pestilent breath wide throughout all the land.
And you become aware of your hot touch. You widen your eyes,
lift your perky young breasts as your nostrils quiver and you spread
wide your fever moistened hands.
Then the gentle civilized day splits away and falls to give birth to
the serpent of the dark night. You extend yourself, sister, your wild
soul, all shame, full of poison, and of torment and blood, and of kisses
and desire, exultant outward in joyous abandon.
I write about you, through all the heavens and hells – sister of
my sins – I write this book for you!