The Countess von Rudolstadt (review)

Initially published in La Revue Indépendante in 1843–44, La Comtesse de Rudolstadt is the sequel of George Sand’s ambitious Künstler[in]roman entitled Consuelo. While the nineteenth century grasped the true importance of this fictional summa of Sand’s thoughts on art, politics, society, and women’s rights, and produced at least three different English translations by Francis G. Shaw (1847), Fayette Robinson (1851) and Frank H. Potter (1891), followed by many reprints, the novel fell into oblivion in the first half of the twentieth century. Professor Van Slyke’s elegant and comprehensive translation is a ground-breaking contribution to the rediscovery of George Sand’s work and thought among the anglophone readership.

The 426-page long translation is preceded by a short but detailed introduction which familiarizes the reader with the content and philosophical background of the novel. It summarizes the first part, discusses Sand’s influences, and provides a helpful explanation of the most abstruse, yet most riveting component of the plot, namely the secret society of the Invisibles, which was inspired by the author’s fascination with religious heresies, utopian theories, and political dissidence.

Surprisingly enough, the introduction does not provide information on the edition of the French text which has been used as source and on the existence and nature of possible variants. Since Professor Van Slyke is writing “for general readers who have little or no knowledge of French,” her omission may be justified. Nevertheless, the reader with a special interest in literary studies will wonder which edition is currently regarded as authoritative and which one has been chosen for this translation.

Equally disappointing is the absence of a brief reflection on the translator’s approach and linguistic choices. This sort of theoretical commentary would be especially welcome in view of recent translation studies which have persuasively demonstrated that far from being a neutral act, translating necessarily relies upon a specific reading of the source work and in turn generates new meaning. The reader would have been enlightened on the translator’s preference for modernity over historical or literary specificity. Examples are found at the beginning of the text, where Sand sets the historical stage for her protagonist’s adventures. For instance, the French word “lancette,” referring to a bleeding instrument in eighteenth-century medicine, is rendered as “scalpel” (9) rather than the more correct “lancet,” the “flacon” of salts used to revive the fainting Consuelo is translated as “flask” (38) rather than “smelling bottle,” and Frederic the Great’s “chapeau” (39), which he points to the left or to the right according to his mood towards the singer, is rendered as “cap,” in spite of a rich iconography showing the Prussian ruler with a fashionable cocked hat. The reader is also curious to know why this translator has chosen to emphasize the Germanic origin of the title given through marriage to the homeless Zingarella Consuelo (“the Countess von Rudolstadt”) and therefore to the eponymous novel, while previous translators chose the more neutral “Countess of Rudolstadt.”

These minor flaws should not detract from Professor Van Slyke’s greatest accomplishment: providing an unabridged, clear, and highly readable version of a founding text of French romantic idealism, written by a first-rate thinker, who happened to be a woman.