“The Lost Soul” is a secluded island in the ocean of Olga Tokarczuk’s works
IBNA (Iran Book News Agency) Children and Young Adults Service – Saye Barin: The book “The Lost Soul,” a short but profound work by the eminent Polish author and Nobel laureate Olga Tokarczuk, is one of the most distinctive examples of illustrated books in contemporary world literature. Its Persian translation was recently published by “Ketab Ch” Publishers, a division of Cheshmeh cultural family focusing on children’s and young adult books. This illustrated book, despite its simplicity, is a philosophical reflection on the acceleration of modern life and humanity’s detachment from itself. The appeal and distinction of this work prompted us to conduct an interview with its Persian translator, Hossein Eidizadeh.
In this interview, Eidizadeh discusses his long-standing interest in Polish literature, the stylistic and philosophical characteristics of Tokarczuk’s works, the challenges of translating such a concise and poetic text, and the features of illustrated books in the modern era. We present this interview to you:
What led you to decide to translate “The Lost Soul”? Were you familiar with Olga Tokarczuk’s works before, or did this book specifically capture your attention?
For years, I have been interested in Polish culture, especially its literature and cinema, so choosing this work for translation after having translated several short stories, essays, and a novella by Tokarczuk felt natural for me. My familiarity with Olga Tokarczuk had already been established before this book; for me, she was a writer who had managed to build a unique bridge between narrative, philosophy, myth, and language. The first book I read by her was “Flights,” even before its translation into Persian. Later, several of her books were translated into Persian, and I am very happy that her works have been met with considerable welcome. When “The Lost Soul” was published, I tried to find and read it. I didn’t initially intend to translate it. First, I found and read its electronic version, and I found it readable and profound. I decided to translate the book for myself because I felt that a great writer had decided to condense her worldview into the smallest possible dimensions; a kind of ontological conciseness. It was this “semantic density” that attracted me, and I wanted to know if I could convey Tokarczuk’s imagination and poeticism into Persian in such a concise form.
In your opinion, what distinguishes “The Lost Soul” from Tokarczuk’s other works? Can it be said that this book is a minimalist version of her intellectual world?
If we want to use a familiar analogy for Tokarczuk’s works, given their diversity—from short stories to essays and voluminous novels like “The Books of Jacob”—and say her works are like a vast ocean, then “The Lost Soul” serves as a secluded island within this ocean. It doesn’t possess the same breadth of narratives, nor the multitude of characters and intertextual references. However, one of Tokarczuk’s perennial concerns is delicately and beautifully present here: the identity of contemporary human beings. Even when Tokarczuk’s works delve into history and the past, there is a contemporary dimension to them. For her, the contemporary human, detachment from oneself, the crisis of speed, and the erosion of dreams are important even in these non-contemporary works. It can be said that this book is the essence of Tokarczuk’s world; a type of philosophical minimalism. She no longer writes for the reader from the architecture of a new world, but rather from inside a small room where a person must wait for their soul to return.
This book has a short but profound text. What challenges did you face in translating such a work? For example, where was it difficult to convey the poetic tone or the philosophical simplicity of the text?
Many of the most important books in literary history are not voluminous. It has been said and written many times that depth and meaning lie in simplicity and conciseness. Such texts often have a deceptive appearance, making one feel they are dealing with a simple text. In these texts, the risk of misstep is greater. For every word, an equivalent with appropriate weight and resonance must be chosen. The most difficult part was preserving the sentence segmentation and the contemplative tone of the text; the translation had to proceed so slowly and calmly that the reader would feel they, too, had entered the slow rhythm of the narrative. In this type of translation, the temptation to “write more beautifully” is sometimes an enemy of faithfulness. I constantly had to remind myself that this book is meant to remain calm, without technique, without superfluous embellishments, just like the original text itself.
Joanna Concejo’s illustrations are an important part of the narrative. In translating illustrated books, what approach should the translator take to keep the text in harmony with the images?
In an illustrated book, words and images are not two parallel lines; they are more like two instruments in a duet. If the translation tries to impose itself, it mutes the image. There must be a reason why, unlike many children’s books, Tokarczuk did not fragment her text and spread it across different pages, but instead wrote one page and then gave breathing space to the images, only to conclude the narrative and story in a few sentences at the end. This approach itself shows that in this particular book, the images are even more important than the text itself. It was important for me to preserve the simplicity of the text, to try to keep the number of words in the translation similar to the number of words in the original text – as much as possible – so that the most attention would be drawn to the images when reading and flipping through the book. It wasn’t really a difficult task; I just tried to be mindful.
How do you think a Persian-speaking audience connects with the concept of “The Lost Soul”? Does a similar concept exist in our culture?
In Iranian culture, the concept of a soul separated from the body is not new; from ancient times to contemporary literature, we have repeatedly encountered the idea of self-forgetfulness. In “The Lost Soul,” the encounter with this concept is modern, not mystical. Here, the soul is neither seeking annihilation nor longing for union with the transcendent; the issue is the breakdown of humanity’s connection with itself in today’s fast-paced world. Today in our country, we are all caught between geopolitical anxiety, media acceleration, and psychological erosion, and even if we don’t know it, we have profoundly felt the concept of a “left-behind soul.” Perhaps for this reason, this book, despite its brevity, feels internal and intimate, and perhaps it is even more applicable to us than to readers of the book in Poland and its readers in other languages.
When you finished the translation, how did you feel yourself? Did this book make you look at the concepts of “living more calmly” or “returning inward” differently?
To be honest, I felt and still feel that this book should constantly be remembered like a silent prayer, and its concept repeated to oneself. Yes, the first time I finished reading the book, I had calmed down and decided to maintain that tranquility. But the flow of life is such that these lessons are quickly forgotten, and everything speeds up again, and stress doesn’t let go of you. I hope I can live the theme of this book, or at least consciously try to synchronize with my soul so that it gradually becomes unconscious for me.
In Iran, illustrated books are usually considered for children. Do you think such works can find a serious place in adult literature?
You are right; “illustrated book” in the minds of many readers and even publishers is intertwined with “children’s literature”; meaning, as soon as images are seen, the mind gravitates towards a lower age classification and assumes the text is simplified or educational. However, in today’s world, the illustrated book is a form of narration, not a level of reader. Nowadays, important literary works are written in illustrated form for adults. In contemporary world literature, an illustrated book is no longer a “means of transmitting a message” to a child, but rather an “artistic work” in which text and image together construct a world. For example, the books by Shaun Tan, some of whose works “Ketab Ch” has published. His works are simultaneously written for child audiences and for adult audiences. We can even say that the primary audience for his works, with themes like migration, depression, identity, and loneliness in the modern world, are adults. These are topics that children cannot fully grasp. Let’s also consider that today’s human thinks with images more than ever: from social networks to cinema and video games, our surroundings are filled with images and graphic designs. Literature, to survive, must communicate with this new perceptual structure. An illustrated book is a bridge between reading and seeing, between slow contemplation and intuitive reception.
One of the biggest biases is that we equate image with “simplicity,” whereas an image can sometimes become a multi-layered field of meaning. The text, instead of explaining, remains silent, and the image fills the void; and this type of mental participation is entirely “adult.” In “The Lost Soul,” you encounter such images. Images that require great attention and precision to understand their meaning and concept, and only then do these images double the book’s semantic weight.
If you were to state in one sentence for whom “The Lost Soul” was written, what would that sentence be? And what feeling or thought should the reader take away at the end of the book?
I think this book is written for everyone who is engaged with today’s world, each in their own way and to their own extent. This statement is now a cliché, but in today’s world, one loses oneself, forgets oneself, or as the author of this book says, leaves one’s soul behind. We have all experienced this feeling; that we are no longer ourselves. That’s why this book is written for everyone alive today, and its message is: It’s never too late to find yourself and the meaning of your life. I think this sentence is very cliché, and that’s why, instead of saying it to myself and others, I translated “The Lost Soul.” This book expresses the same message much more powerfully and beautifully.
