Of breathing holes and contact zones: Inuit-Canadian writer Markoosie in and through translation
Harpoon of the Hunter, originally written in Inuktitut syllabics and published serially in 1969/70, is frequently characterized as the “first Inuit novel” (McGrath 1984, 81; Chartier 2011). It was deemed the “breakthrough” (McNeill 1975, 117) eagerly awaited by those whose stated goal was to save Canada’s traditional northern culture and its stories, songs, poems and legends from being swept aside by the onslaught of southern modernity. Markoosie’s text helpfully allows discussion of (post)colonial contact zones constructed in and through translational acts such as self-translation, retranslation, and relay/indirect translation as these intersect with Indigenous literature. This article explores the complex trajectory, involving various stakeholders, of the translation, circulation and reception of this important contribution to not only Inuit literature, but Canadian literature as a whole. It examines some relevant features of the author’s own translation of his text into English (1970) and traces them through the two existing French translations by Claire Martin (Markoosie, tr. Martin 1971) and Catherine Ego (Markoosie, tr. Ego 2011).
Translation from a “minor” or peripheral language into a central, “major” or heavily translated one (typically English, French or Spanish) cannot help but bear witness to an inherently unequal relationship, whereby minority cultures struggle to survive. While contact zones, famously defined by Mary Louise Pratt as “social spaces where cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in contexts of highly asymmetrical relations of power, such as colonialism, slavery, or their aftermaths” (1991, 34), may be unavoidable in today’s globalized world, they remain fraught with danger and opportunities for misinterpretation. Literary contact zones often function as and through translation, which creates space for previously unheard voices and traditions to circulate, and minority cultures are translation cultures by necessity (see, e.g., Cronin 2003, 139). However, as Mona Baker (2014), Pascale Casanova (2010) and others underscore in various contexts, the fact that the language through which minority literatures reach a wider audience has typically also been experienced as the language of oppression can significantly problematize the relations involved. In colonial contexts, translation often operates to construct representations of the other, and these dynamics of representation carry on into postcolonial situations, as the hegemonic powers reinforce stereotypes of certain communities and regions. This certainly holds true in the (post)colonial space where the Inuit and their centuries-old oral storytelling traditions run up against the scribal culture of southern Canada.