Nothing's Been Changed, Except the Words: Some Faithful Attempts at Covering Bob Dylan Songs in French

As a professor, I would like to, one day, manage a course the way Dylan organizes a song, as a stunning producer rather than an author. And it would start just like he does, all at once, with his clown mask, with a mastery of each concerted detail, and yet improvised. The opposite of a plagiarist, but also the opposite of a master or a model. A very lengthy preparation, but no methods, no rules, no recipes.

(Deleuze 1977:14-15)

The above quotation, written by one of France's foremost twentieth-century philosophers reflects a typical French approach to Bob Dylan's works in that it makes room for everything but the lyrics. Even for those native French-speakers who value his works to the point of obsession, such a barrier is always present; it is not the words, but the way they are sung, that truly matters.

So what happens when someone tries to put those songs that are so much more than words into another language, for someone to sing them? As in other countries, attempts to interpret Dylan's songs in a foreign language have been made on many occasions over the years, including three full-length albums: two by Hugues Aufray (1965b and 1995) and a more obscure one by Serge Kerval (1971).¹

Most of the more scattered recordings are unavailable today. A few, on the other hand, now belong to the French musical landscape. All have had to face the dilemma of using a form that is foreign, both in language and in culture, and striving to transplant meaning while paying dues to the original (the name Dylan is always mentioned in these recordings, if only as a commercial argument).² Criticism being easier than art, accusations have been numerous. Often the interpreter may be mocked for being too literal, like Richard Anthony, who saw it fit to sing the line from "Blowin' in the Wind," "Combien d'oreilles faut-il aux malheureux"("How many ears must one man have?"). On the other hand, the artist may be blamed for showing utter disrespect for the original lyrics³ or for paring down the artistic potential of the original, mostly in regard to the images and metaphors. The following comes from the first French book on folksong (Vassal 1972:283):

As a whole, Aufray chante Dylan remains a highly questionable record. Whereas the French lyrics by Pierre Delanoë⁴ are, formally speaking, about right, they have lost half the power contained in the originals . . . . Besides, Hugues Aufray's voice, husky as it is, is unable to convey the suffering, the pain or the wit of the author. It only offers an insubstantial echo of the initial version . . .

[my translation]

Thus, the question remains: how are we to adapt performed art? According to which criteria will the adaptation be evaluated? It is my contention that one cannot simultaneously be faithful to the original and produce a genuine work of art. As evidence for this, I will refer to the lengthy discussions I have had on these matters with three individuals directly involved in those cover efforts: singers Graeme Allwright (2004), Hugues Aufray (2005), and lyricist Boris Bergmann (2005). Since the songs in question involve much more than lyrics, I will focus on the performed versions, rather than on the adapters themselves. Though my examples deal mainly with Bob Dylan songs, the rules I infer are meant to be more general.

Adapting is not Translating

What does "faithfulness" mean in this context? In the realm of translation, a faithful target text strives to reproduce the sense and form of the original. It is not necessarily a literal translation where form would take precedence over meaning, but instead a balanced effort in respect to those two aspects. In adapting songs, however, respecting those two constraints verges on the impossible. One may therefore limit one's efforts, simultaneously respecting those two constraints and still claim faithfulness.

Applying the tools and criteria of translation to adaptation leads to one more caveat: adaptation is...