Johnny Got His Gun

He had to stop this. He had to stop things from fading away and then rushing back at him. He had to stop the smotherings and the sinkings and the risings. He had to stop the fear that made him want to yell and holler and laugh and claw himself to death with a pair of hands that were rotting in some hospital dump.

He had to get hold of himself so he could think. This had been going on too long. His stumps were healed over now. The bandages were gone. That meant time had passed. A lot of time. Enough time so that he had to come out of it and think. He had to think of himself of Joe Bonham and what he was going to do next. He had to figure things out all over again.

It was like a full grown man suddenly being stuffed back into his mother's body. He was lying in stillness. He was completely helpless. Somewhere sticking in his stomach was a tube they fed him through. That was exactly like the womb except a baby in its mother's body could look forward to the time when it would live.

He would be in this womb forever and ever and ever. He must remember that. He must never expect or hope for anything different. This was his life from now on every day and every hour and every minute of it. He would never again be able to say hello how are you I love you. He would never again be able to hear music or the whisper of the wind through trees or the chuckle of running water. He would never again breathe in the smell of a steak frying in his mother's kitchen or the dampness of spring in the air or the wonderful fragrance of sagebrush carried on the wind across a wide open plain. He would never again be able to see the faces of people who made you glad just to look at them, of people like Karen. He would never again be able to see sunlight or the stars or the little grasses that grow on a Colorado hillside.

He would never walk with his legs on the ground. He would never run or jump or stretch out when he was tired. He would never be tired.

Dalton Trumbo, Johnny Got His Gun, 1939.

The text was published on the eve of World war II (which started in December 1941 for the USA), at a time when Roosevelt was trying to convince Congress to join the war. The boo was banned because it is very antimilitary. Dalton Trumbo is also the author of other controversial works, like Apocalypse Now. 

The plot: Joe Bonham, 18, was about to marry, but he was lotted out to go to war (at the time military service was made through drawing lots) and arrived in the frontline on November 11, 1918 (the last day of the war). A bombshell exploded next to him. He lost both ears, his face (including eyes and nose), and his limbs (arms and legs). He was but a trunk.

He was carried to hospital and healed. After a while, he realized he was awake (there is no difference for him between night and day). He understood he had been so horribly crippled, but could not communicate with the outside world. He had no idea of where and when he was, and faced a bleak future.

A few events happen in his life: he tried to commit suicide by wriggling out of bed and trying to bash his head on the floor, but he was set back to bed and belted to make sure he did not fall again. He received a medal. One day he found a way to communicate by nodding his head in Morse code. First, people thought he was convulsing and gave him shots of tranquilizer. Eventually, someone understood what he was doing and asked what he wanted. He asked to be killed, but was answered "what you ask is against regulations". That was the end of all communications with the outside world.

A nurse (or so we suppose, because the story is told from his point of "view") did try to smother him with a pillow, but stopped short before he died. 

In the end, we understand he is going to be in that state until he dies of old age. 

The passage: right after Joe realized he was awake (notice the irony of his name: Bonham!), he tried to inventory the situation. The text falls into three parts: the first one is a list of the priorities he must make, with the repetition of "he had to". The second part (repetition of the verb be) is a description of what he was. It is the shortest part, because he is reduced to almost nothing. The last part ("he would never again be able to") is the list of the things he would never do again. It is the longest part, of course. 

There is no punctuation other than periods in the text. Joe's life is dull and uneventful, so is the shape of the text. Most of the words are monosyllables, short words, because his limbs are short. There are repetitions because Joe is going round and round in his head. And the alliteration ("yeLL and hoLLer and Laugh and cLaw" for instance) emphasize the repetitiveness of his condition. 

Around the text: a handful of men were in a like situation in different wars. Most of them were used as guinea pigs for scientific experiments. 

Traduction: essayez de traduire l'avant dernier paragraphe (he would be in this womb...). Je posterai ma proposition ici dans une semaine et demi. 

Proposition de traduction:

He would be in this womb forever and ever and ever. He must remember that. He must never expect or hope for anything different. This was his life from now on every day and every hour and every minute of it. He would never again be able to say hello how are you I love you. He would never again be able to hear music or the whisper of the wind through trees or the chuckle of running water. He would never again breathe in the smell of a steak frying in his mother's kitchen or the dampness of spring in the air or the wonderful fragrance of sagebrush carried on the wind across a wide open plain. He would never again be able to see the faces of people who made you glad just to look at them, of people like Karen. He would never again be able to see sunlight or the stars or the little grasses that grow on a Colorado hillside.

Les phrases commencent toutes par sujet+modal, et rapidement "he would never again" se répète encore et encore. Je vais conserver le même temps (conditionnel) pour la structure, et pour que la répétition soit aussi sensible en français qu'en anglais, je modifie l'ordre des mots. "Jamis plus, il..." convient très bien. 

La ponctuation pose aussi problème, avec une syntaxe comliquée. les phrases sont longues pour rendre compte de l'interminable durée du supplice et de l'accumulation de ses peines, mais il n'y a qu'une seule virgule, avant Karen, qui font de son amie une simple apposition à "people who made you glad just to look at them". Il va falloir trouver une façon de reproduire ces effets.

He would be in this womb forever and ever and ever.  La répétition de ever est difficile à rendre, surtout si l'on veut éviter les virgules. L'expression biblique "les siècles des siècles" pourrait fonctionner. Il est prisonnier de ce ventre pour l'éternité. or, le mot reclu, même si ce n'est qu'une paronomie, reprend le son cl de siècles. Pour les siècles des siècles, il serait reclu dans ce ventre. 

He must remember that. Must est repris dans la phrase d'après, il me faut une traduction qui fonctionne pour les deux phrases. Il devait s'en rappeler.

 He must never expect or hope for anything different. J'anticipe sur la répétition lourde à venir en plaçant mon jamais en début de phrase. Jamais il ne devait attendre ou espérer autre chose. 

This was his life from now on every day and every hour and every minute of it. Là encore, every répété trois fois. Comme je dois me passer de virgules, je dois torturer un peu la phrase et changer l'ordre des mots. C'était désormais ainsi chaque jour chaque heure chaque minute de sa vie. 

He would never again be able to say hello how are you I love you. Mes répétitions commencent, ma structure doit convenir partout. Jamais plus il ne pourrait dire bonjour ça va je t'aime. 

He would never again be able to hear music or the whisper of the wind through trees or the chuckle of running water. chuckle, c'est clapoti. running water: on peut penser à la chanson de Guy Béart. Jamais plus il ne pourrait entendre de la musique ou le murmure du vent dans les arbres ou le clapoti de l'eau vive qui court. 

He would never again breathe in the smell of a steak frying in his mother's kitchen or the dampness of spring in the air or the wonderful fragrance of sagebrush carried on the wind across a wide open plain. breathe in, c'est sentir, mais "humer" me semble plus approprié car il rappelle le humus que l'on a dans le mot inhumation, et pour Joe cet "uterus" est un peu une tombe. Jamais plus il ne humerait l'odeur d'un steak en train de griller dans la cuisine de sa mère ou la fraicheur du printemps dans l'air ou la merveilluese fragrance d'armoise apportée par le vent à travers les larges laines ouvertes. 

He would never again be able to see the faces of people who made you glad just to look at them, of people like Karen. Aucune difficulté. Jamais plus il ne pourrait voir les visages des gens qui vous rendent heureux rein qu'à les reagarder des gens comme Karen. 

He would never again be able to see sunlight or the stars or the little grasses that grow on a Colorado hillside. Attention aux deux alitérations: see sunlight star et grasses grow. Colorado hillside ne posera pas de problème: il y a un son l dans colline. Jamais plus il ne pourrait voir le soleil ou les astres ou les petites plantes qui peuplent les collines du Colorado. 

Pour les siècles des siècles, il serait reclu dans ce ventre. Il devait s'en rappeler. Jamais il ne devait attendre ou espérer autre chose. C'était désormais ainsi chaque jour chaque heure chaque minute de sa vie. Jamais plus il ne pourrait dire bonjour ça va je t'aime. Jamais plus il ne pourrait entendre de la musique ou le murmure du vent dans les arbres ou le clapoti de l'eau vive qui court. Jamais plus il ne humerait l'odeur d'un steak en train de griller dans la cuisine de sa mère ou la fraicheur du printemps dans l'air ou la merveilluese fragrance d'armoise apportée par le vent à travers les larges laines ouvertes. Jamais plus il ne pourrait voir les visages des gens qui vous rendent heureux rein qu'à les reagarder des gens comme Karen. Jamais plus il ne pourrait voir le soleil ou les astres ou les petites plantes qui peuplent les collines du Colorado.