One thing that we will continue to see as we explore the history and impact of FitzGerald’s poem, is a desire to reclaim the poem from its translator. As we have seen - and as we will see further – the poem is not so much a translation as it is an inspired adaptation. FitzGerald didn’t think much of Khayyam as a poet – he preferred Hafiz – but he did like the concepts that Omar touched upon in his scribblings. They suited his Romantic, Victorian sensibilities and so he took the verses and processed them through his own lens. However, there were many individuals out there who couldn’t see this distinction and who couldn’t see the point of playing with the verses if the result wasn’t to be a direct lifting of the poetry from the Persian to the English idiom. Some, like Graves, became infuriated; others were troubled and gnawed at the issue like a dog with a bone.
Amongst those
troubled by the poem were many critics of Persian (later Iranian) extract, who
saw in FitzGerald’s work an attempt at colonialization, or cultural
appropriation. These charges are far more difficult to shrug off than the
notion of sloppy translation work: Orientalism is, no doubt about it, a kind of
cultural thievery, no matter how benign its intents. It is the slippery
stereotypical slope to generalization and onwards to racism, casual or
otherwise, and the critics who were concerned about this side of the poem had
every reason to cavil.
We’ve seen how the
Shah Brothers played this cultural appropriation card in order to get Robert
Graves all fired up and to swindle him out of his cash and reputation, but
there were other readers who were less venal and far more serious. Many of
these sided with the French academics – still smarting about having not
provided the first translation - and howled for “correct” interpretations to be
created and to be given greater credence than FitzGerald’s. These were slow in
coming and have really only started to appear in the latter end of the Twentieth
and into the Twenty-First Centuries. None of them have come anywhere near to
reaching the popularity of FitzGerald’s efforts and we might even conclude from
this that, as far as poetry is concerned, Omar Khayyam was, as Edward pointed
out way back when, a really good mathematician.
On the other hand,
in the area of illustration, Persian and Iranian artists have done much to
reclaim the poem as a Persian entity, by decorating it in the distinctive style
of their country. Even Western artists – as we’ve seen with René Bull and Willy
Pogany, for example – have mined the Persian and Middle Eastern art styles in
order to inform their own illustrative renderings, even if these were a bit
ham-fisted in places. Many examples of the poem, illustrated in the unique
cultural sensibilities of Persia, have been produced and some of the best and
most beautiful copies have been the result. Let’s take a look at some of them…
Edward FitzGerald (Foreword
by B.W. Robinson, ed.), Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm, Persian Miniatures, Miller
Graphics/Production Liber S.A., Fribourg/Genève Switzerland, 1979.
Quarto; hardcover, with
gilt spine titles and decorative endpapers; 124pp., with many full-colour
illustrations. Dustwrapper.
A mainstay in
Rubaiyat collecting, this volume is more a showcase of Persian miniature
painting than a reproduction of the poem (although it is that too). In that
sense it can be described as a rigorous overview of the art form, dressed up
with some quaint Victorian English poetry. The work kicks off with FitzGerald’s
biography - Omar Khayyam – The Astronomer-Poet of
Persia - and a brief
overview of the stylistic and historical terminology used in evaluating the art
style by B.W. Robinson, in his somewhat terse Foreword. From there on,
the work lets the art speak for itself and it is a gorgeous collection of
Persian miniature art at its best. Many of the pictures used to illustrate the
verses had never been published before this book came out and they all derive
from the Reza Abbasi Museum in Teheran. The version of the poem used in
this edition is that of the Second Translation, from 1868.
Edward FitzGerald
(Sarkis Katchadourian, illus.), Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam; Rendered into
English Verse by Edward FitzGerald; with Paintings and Decorations by Sarkis
Katchadourian, Grosset & Dunlap Publishers, New York NY, 1946.
Quarto; hardcover,
full cloth with bevel-edged boards, gilt spine titles and decorations on a
white label and a blind-stamped upper board decoration; 138pp., top edges gilt,
all pages decoratively bordered, with a colour frontispiece, ten plates
likewise and many monochrome illustrations. Signed and numbered in ink by the
artist to the limitations page (this is number 22 of only 1,000 copies). No
dustwrapper.
Sarkis
Katchadourian (1886-1946) was a world-famous Armenian artist renowned for his
works done in the Persian style. After training in Rome, Paris and Munich, he
travelled to India where he spent much of his time restoring ancient Mughal
frescoes. He travelled to New York after the Second World War and created his
illustrations for the Rubaiyat which were published by Grosset &
Dunlap in the year of his death. The eleven images reproduced in this book
perfectly compliment the poetry (the Fourth and First translation are seen here)
along with the beautiful traditional decorations. The poem is accompanied by a
biographical note on Katchadourian and FitzGerald’s Omar Khayyam – The
Astronomer-Poet of Persia, an ever-present starter for many editions.
Edward FitzGerald
(Sarkis Katchadourian, illus.), Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam; Rendered into
English Verse by Edward FitzGerald; with Paintings and Decorations by Sarkis
Katchadourian, Grosset & Dunlap Publishers, New York NY, 1946.
Quarto; hardcover,
quarter-bound in full cloth with a tipped-on upper board decoration, gilt spine
titles and blind-stamped upper board titles; 138pp., top edges dyed plum, all
pages decoratively bordered, with a colour frontispiece, ten plates likewise
and many monochrome illustrations. No dustwrapper
The later and
unsigned editions of this collection are just as pretty, with blind-stamped
titles and decorations to the boards a notable feature
Edward FitzGerald
(Introduction by Louis Untermeyer, ed.; Mahmoud Sayah, illus.), Rubáiyát
of Omar Khayyám; Translated into English Quatrains by Edward FitzGerald; A
Complete reprint of the First Edition and the combined Third, Fourth and Fifth
Editions, with an Appendix containing FitzGerald’s Prefaces and Notes, Random
House Inc., New York NY, 1947.
Octavo; hardcover,
full decorated cloth with gilt spine titles on a black label and decorative
endpapers; 150pp., all pages with decorative borders and many colour
illustrations. No dustwrapper.
Mahmoud Sayah, like
Katchadourian, is an ex-pat exponent of the Persian Miniature style; however -
unlike Katchadourian – he was actually born in Persia. And like many other Rubaiyat
artists, he was trained to do anything other than art, but his natural
inclinations led him from his destined path. Like Katchadourian’s offering,
Sayah’s is a ‘whole package’ presentation with decorations littering every
aspect of the work, from the cover cloth to the endpapers. Sayah’s images are
more colourfully intense than the gloomier style of the previous book – some
might even call them garish – but they definitely work well with the poetry.
This edition covers the First Translation in full and then cherry-picks
the Third, Fourth and Fifth re-workings, combining them
into what was (presumably) Untermeyer’s preferred selection of verses.
FitzGerald’s Notes and Biography of Khayyam round things off.
Edward
FitzGerald (Abanindronath Tagore, illus.), The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, The Astronomer
Poet of Persia, Leopold B. Hill, London, nd. (c.1926).
Octavo;
hardcover, full decorated cloth with gilt spine and upper board decorations;
64pp., top edges gilt, with a tipped-in colour frontispiece and six plates
likewise. No dustwrapper.
Abanindronath
Tagore was the nephew of Rabindranath Tagore and yet another stellar creative
from that noted Bengali family. His career was highlighted by a need to rescue
Indian art from the influences of outside colonializing forces and therefore
it’s not so surprising to see him take on the Rubaiyat. The school he
founded – the Indian Society of Oriental Art – was designed to counter
British influences over modern Indian art. After his death, his son bequeathed
all of his father’s works to an institution named the Rabindra Bharati Society
Trust which has locked them away from view – it’s said that Abanindronath’s
best works have never been seen by the public as a result. His illustrations in
this volume are heavily Mughal in influence and quite austere, a nice fit with
the presentation of the text with its 1920s typography. Sadly, most copies of
this edition fall prey to heavy offsetting and embrowning around the plates.
The text is the First Translation with FitzGerald’s Biography of
Khayyam and Notes.
Edward FitzGerald (Muraqqa-i-Chughtai,
illus.), The Illustrated Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, Caxton
Editions/Caxton Publishing Group, London, 2001.
Quarto; hardcover, illustrated
boards with metallic-red upper board titles and borders and decorated endpapers;
109pp., all pages with decorative borders, with a colour frontispiece and many
colour and monochrome illustrations. Dustwrapper.
Muraqqa i-Chughtai
(here referred-to as “Muraqqa Chugtai”) was an Indo-Persian artist who worked
at the beginning of the last century and whose Mughal stylings are heavily
influenced by the Persian Miniature style as well as the Art Nouveau flavour of
the time. The images used here were not created intentionally for the Rubaiyat,
but rather were designed to accompany the poems of another Persian poet, Mirza
Ghalib: I guess that the Caxton Editions editor who helmed this project felt
that they would serve. It’s clear that some jiggery-pokery might have been
going on as well, since many of the images have been reproduced horizontally-flipped
and weirdly cropped, possibly to avoid copyright issues but more likely just to
suit the personal aesthetics of those in charge. Chughtai was directly
influenced by Abanindronath Tagore’s thinking and personal art style, which is abundantly
clear from these images. The First Translation is the text in use here.
[Edward J.
FitzGerald], Rubaiyyat of Hakim Omar Khayyam, Amir-Kabir, Tehran Iran,
1967.
Octavo; hardcover,
with illustrated boards and decorated endpapers; 143pp., all decorated, text in
Persian, English, German and French, with 28 colour and monochrome plates. No
dustwrapper.
This Persian
edition really fires on all cylinders. The artist is not identified in English
translation, but their work is consistent throughout the book, sometimes
adhering to strict Persian Miniature stylings and occasionally taking off on
wild flights of fantasy as the inspirational text dictates. The script is
FitzGerald’s First Translation and is usefully accompanied by
translations into three other languages for comparison (and probably with an
eye to widening the marketplace for this book). FitzGerald is not explicitly
stated as the author of the piece, but his name does appear at the end of his
essay, Omar Khayyam – The Astronomer-Poet of Persia, with the addition
of his middle initial. Omar is also renamed as “Hakim” for reasons unstated (in
English at least!). Such additions and elisions certainly feel like they stem
from a desire to ‘reclaim’ the poetry for Iran as a Persian cultural artefact.
The production-levels are cheap but luxe and make for a pleasing whole.
*****
Edward FitzGerald
(Willy Pogany, illus.), Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the Fourth Rendering
in English Verse, George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd., London, 1934.
Octavo; hardcover,
full green leather, with gilt spine and upper board titles and decorations and
decorative endpapers; unpaginated (pp.), top edges gilt and all pages with
decorative borders, with a tipped-in colour frontispiece, seven plates
likewise, and many monochrome illustrations. No dustwrapper
At the start of
this overview, I stated that many Western illustrators who undertook to
illuminate the Rubaiyat often took their inspiration from Persian (or
other, Middle Eastern) artists. One of these was the noted Rubaiyat
illustrator Willy Pogany. In my previous post on his contributions, I mentioned
that I didn’t have a copy of the 1930 edition that he did for George G. Harrap
& Co.; however, since then I have made up for that oversight. This is a
reprint of that 1930 edition containing a subset of the original plates and the
other decorations. This was standard practice with these gift book productions
– release the full deal initially, then pare it back and release it – usually
in a smaller format - for subsequent printings. This is the reduced 1934
production with only seven of the original twelve plates, but I’m getting
closer.
The Hollywood
influence is quite marked in this set of images, livening up the naiveté
of his first attempt. In that sense, it’s more of an Orientalist artefact than
his first outing, but nevertheless he’s still trying to be true to the stated
roots of the work. The Persian influence is marked, and there is no indication
of the radical shift about to take place between this set and the 1942, David
Mackay, edition. In the initial printing, the First and Fourth Translation
were presented; here, only the Fourth is present, without any of
FitzGerald’s accompanying explanatory material.
*****
It can be seen from
the above list that Persian contribution to the literary history of the Rubaiyat
goes far beyond the original text as written by Omar Khayyam. There is a sense
of reclamation in these works – whether that goal is warranted or not – but it
doesn’t really descend to a wholesale grinding of axes and pushing of barrows,
which would definitely colour the whole exercise badly. Rather, the
contributions of these artists broadens, and deepens the texture of the Rubaiyat’s
history, adding even more layers of nuance for collectors and appreciators!
