“I cannot follow you in all this. But you may not thus lightly deny tragedy.”
“He also said that the translation was as good as it could be.” … You’ve brought it off. That’s the way a translation ought to be done. It’s slick and clean and extraordinarily well Englished. …
“Well? Well? Are you not satisfied?”
“Then he said in a contemptuous sort of way, ‘you could make from two to three hundred a year at this sort of thing.’ ”
“But that is most excellent. You should most certainly try this.”
“I don’t believe it. He says that kind of thing.”
“He ought to know.”
“I don’t know. He said in a large easy way you’d get seven or eight guineas apiece for these things, and then do ’em in a book.”
“Well?”
“Everybody would be doing it if it were so easy.”
“You are really remarkable. A good translation is most rare; and particularly a good English translation. You have seen these Tolstoys. I have not met in German or French anything so vile. It is a whole base trade.”
“The public does not know. And if these things sell why should publishers pay for good translations? It’s like machine and handmade embroidery. It does not pay to do good work. I’ve often heard translations are badly paid and I can quite understand it. It could be done in a factory at an immense pace.”