“Since form and content are inseparable, the translator must find not only appropriate words for the original words but an appropriate form for the original form.” (p. XLV)

Stung with Love: Poems and Fragments’s goal is, as Poochigian announces in his translator’s note, not only to translate Sappho’s words as accurately as possible into our language, but also to embed them in a form that retains all the musicality and lyricism of her sapphic stanzas in Ancient Greek. To achieve this, he works chiefly with rhymes, alliterations and assonances, again also mostly iambic tetrameter and dimeter, more natural to the anglophone ear. He manages to simulate the temporal distance with Sappho in the English translation by adopting a tone similar to 19th century novels, still preserving an element of foreignness and age. As for the quality and accuracy of the translation, though, as I have said, I know that the correctness of the specific words isn’t the priority in this translation, I can’t say anything as of yet, since I haven’t had the chance to compare the English with the Greek, though I do hope to do so soon.

In his introduction, Poochigian provides just enough information for the layperson to understand Sappho and the historical context of both her person and her poetry to understand this collection. I deeply appreciate also how in his later notes he comes back to elements he mentioned in the introduction, especially concerning the performance context of her poetry. One thing I wish he had explored more in the introduction and in the notes was Sappho’s reception in later poetry. He does mention, for example, the famous Catullus 51 poem and a couple of other works, but I think I would have wished for even more links with specific lines in the poems, though that might be too much to ask for from a non-academic translation.

Concerning the structure of the collection, Poochigian opts for organizing the poems by theme rather than preserving their numbered classifications, such as what one would find in Lobel-Page’s and Voigt’s critical editions (the ancient Greek basis of this collection). This choice makes for easier thematic comparison and understanding, which is ultimately a plus. However, I do wish that the editor had included the LP/V numbering somewhere on the page of the poem itself instead of in the “index of first lines”, which is hidden away in the back of the book. This is kind of nitpicky, but I think it would just be a bit easier for comparison with other translations and/or the critical editions to have the classical numbering directly associated with the poem. On the topic of the organization of the poems, I agree with Poochigian’s choice to leave out the incomplete to the point of incomprehensible fragments. It might have been nice to include them all in a heap at the back, but the notes needed to explain them would have been extremely demanding and too complicated for a translation and commentary meant for laypeople.

As for how the notes were incorporated into the corpus, I very much appreciated how they were printed on the page to the left of the poem, making them easy to read and easy to access. I find that typically if notes are either at the back of the chapter or (God forbid) at the back of the book, I find myself looking at them less, therefore also missing out on information. This “notes left, poems right” layout is somehow also visually pleasing, though I can’t explain why.

Ultimately, this was a nice collection, with a clear goal and vision, which, I find, was relatively well executed.

Favorite poem: Fragment 48, here under the title “You were at hand”: You were at hand, And I broke down raving – My craving a fire That singed my mind, A brand you quenched.