As a small and select group of you will know, last week my acquaintance with the work of Jacques Brel was renewed and, subsequently, considerably deepened. So, with acknowledgement and thanks to my friend Shalom/William for the inspiration, I’m going to indulge this week in an in-depth look at perhaps the best-known work of perhaps the best-known chansonnier of the second half of the Twentieth Century – Jacques Brel’s Ne Me Quitte Pas.

If you look up ‘chanson’ in a French-English dictionary, you will find that it means ‘song’, and this is undoubtedly true. However, ‘chanson’ is also used to denote a particular kind of song. (Actually, several particular kinds, but, for our purposes, one will suffice.) The most succinct definition I have seen is ‘lyric-driven songs’; however, the rather fuller description Wikipedia gives of Brel’s work fleshes out that definition: ‘literate, thoughtful, and theatrical songs’.

So, let’s start with a look at the lyrics. Alongside the French, I offer what seems to me a faithful translation into English. But first, a brief diversion, which will, I promise, bring us back to Brel.

I’m currently reading Robert Alter’s The Art of Bible Translation, which is both insightful and entertaining. Alter slipped almost by accident (or perhaps was sucker-punched) into translating the entire Hebrew Bible into English, and he brought to the task not only what he describes as “a good competence” in Classical Hebrew but also his background as a literary critic. This second element gave him a perspective rather different from that of most translators of the Bible.

His own translation reflects his belief that the style of the Hebrew text is a very significant part of what shapes the meaning. The art of the translator, he therefore argues, is not to smooth out the language of the original, but to retain, as far as possible, its ‘feel’; not to clarify what is unclear in the Hebrew text, but to preserve that lack of clarity in the translation. In this way the translation sets the reader the same challenges of comprehension as the original Hebrew does, and gives the reader the same experience as the reader of the original Hebrew has.

Of course, Alter realizes that all this is impossible. The translator cannot honestly do more than strive to come as close to this as she is able.

Alter references the translation theorist Lawrence Venuti, who distinguished between ‘domesticating’ and ‘foreignizing’ translations. Each type has its place. In translating a contemporary French novel into English, the translator may wish to make the text as ‘comfortable’ as possible for an American readership.

In reading translated fiction, I often find myself forgetting that I am reading a translation; the English is so natural. However, as Alter points out, it is important to avoid creating the impression that the Bible was written in English the day before yesterday, and to keep the reader aware that the linguistic patterns and cultural context of the original are very different from ours.

The modern age has, of course, seen various ‘special interest’ translations – feminist Bibles, Black English Bibles and so on. So, for example, one modern version renders the first lines of the Shema rather differently from what many of us are used to.

The version many of us grew up with is: ‘Hear, O Israel. The Lord is our God. The Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your might.’ This contemporary version offers the following: ‘Attention, Israel! God, our God! God the one and only! Love God, your God, with your whole heart: love him with all that’s in you, love him with all you’ve got!’ To my ear, at least, the domesticating translation jars.

Back to Ne Me Quitte Pas. Here are the lyrics, with what seems to me a foreignizing translation.

Ne Me Quitte Pas                    Don’t Leave Me
                            
Ne me quitte pas                      Don’t leave me.
Il faut oublier                             We must forget.
Tout peut s’oublier                     All can be forgotten
Qui s’enfuit déjà                        That has already passed away.
Oublier le temps                        Forget the time
Des malentendus                      Of misunderstandings
Et le temps perdu                      And the time lost
A savoir comment                     Trying to know ‘how’.
Oublier ces heures                    Forget those hours
Qui tuaient parfois                    That sometimes kill,
A coups de pourquoi                 With slaps of ‘Why?’,
Le cœur du bonheur                 The heart of happiness.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
                            
Moi je t’offrirai                           I will give to you
Des perles de pluie                    Pearls made of rain
Venues de pays                         From countries
Où il ne pleut pas                      Where it never rains.
Je creuserai la terre                   I will work the land
Jusqu’après ma mort                 All my life and beyond
Pour couvrir ton corps              To cover your body
D’or et de lumière                      With gold and with light.
Je ferai un domaine                   I will make a land
Où l’amour sera roi                    Where love will be king
Où l’amour sera loi                    Where love will be law
Où tu seras reine                       Where you will be queen.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
                            
Ne me quitte pas                       Don’t leave me.
Je t’inventerai                            I will invent, for you,
Des mots insensés                   Fanciful words
Que tu comprendras                That you’ll understand.
Je te parlerai                             I will tell you
De ces amants-là                     About those lovers
Qui ont vu deux fois                 Who have twice seen
Leurs cœurs s’embraser          Their hearts set ablaze.
Je te raconterai                        I will tell you
L’histoire de ce roi                   The story of the king
Mort de n’avoir pas                  Who died of not having
Pu te rencontrer                       Ever met you.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
                            
On a vu souvent                      We’ve often seen
Rejaillir le feu                           Fire flowing again
De l’ancien volcan                   From an ancient volcano
Qu’on croyait trop vieux          Considered too old.
Il est paraît-il                            It’s said that there are
Des terres brûlées                   Fire-scorched lands
Donnant plus de blé                That yield more wheat
Qu’un meilleur avril                  Than the best April.
Et quand vient le soir               And when evening comes
Pour qu’un ciel flamboie          With a burning sky,
Le rouge et le noir                   The red and the black –
Ne s’épousent-ils pas              Are they not joined together?
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
                            
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Je n’vais plus pleurer               I won’t cry anymore.
Je n’vais plus parler                 I won’t talk anymore.
Je me cacherai là                    I will hide over there
A te regarder                           To watch you
Danser et sourire                     Dance and smile,
Et à t’écouter                           And to hear you
Chanter et puis rire                 Sing and then laugh.
Laisse-moi devenir                  Let me become
L’ombre de ton ombre             The shadow of your shadow,
L’ombre de ta main                 The shadow of your hand,
L’ombre de ton chien              The shadow of your dog.
Mais                                         But
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas                     Don’t leave me.
Ne me quitte pas.                    Don’t leave me.

‘Literate, thoughtful, and theatrical songs.’ How true. Let’s take a closer look at what is going on here.

In the very first line, the singer makes a blunt plea – Don’t leave me – without offering any reason why his lover should not leave. As the song progresses, this plea is repeated again and again in an act of ultimately humiliating begging.

In asking to gloss over their problems, he sweeps aside everything that has been in their relationship – All can be forgotten. He then makes a series of fanciful, unrealistic promises, stressing the lengths he will go to for her – I will work the land all my life and beyond to cover your body with gold and with light.

Then follows a promise of things he will say, a series of empty fairy tales – The story of the king who died of not having ever met you, and then a series of powerful images drawn from nature, suggesting that their love can be revived. It’s said that there are fire-scorched lands that yield more wheat than the best April. However, even some of these images are only hearsay – It’s said that… – and thefinal image is couched as a question, with a suggestion of uncertainty – Are they not joined together?

It is true that these same sentiments, expressed by someone at the very beginning of a love affair, could appear attractive (even if we also smiled wryly at their innocent super-optimism, and of the prospective lover’s eagerness to do everything, and expect nothing in return). However, for a man standing in the wreck of a relationship, they seem pathetic.

In the last verse, the singer desperately promises to make himself invisible, realising that his lover does not want to see him or hear him anymore – I will hide over there to watch you…Let me become the shadow of your shadow…your hand…your dog. Your dog! How humiliating is that! Finally, the begging refrain is repeated – Don’t leave me.

At no point in the song does he describe a healthy or realistic relationship.

The time has come to listen to Brel performing the song – a more complete and accurate word than ‘singing’, I think. (The English subtitles here are a slightly less successful translation than the version I gave above, but they’ll do.)

In a 1966 interview, Brel said that Ne me quitte pas was not a love song, but rather “a hymn to the cowardice of men”, and the degree to which they were willing to humiliate themselves. He knew, he said, that it would give pleasure to women who assumed it was a love song, and he understood that. (I’m not sure he would be able to get away with last sentiment 50 years on!)

And so, dear reader, we come to a domesticating ‘translation’. In fairness, this is not a translation but an adaptation. However, I think it speaks volumes about the distance between mainstream American popular music and chanson. Rod McKuen wrote new words to the tune of Ne Me Quitte Pas as If You Go Away. In that changed title, we already see much of the shift that McKuen made in the tone and meaning of the song. Here the lover’s going away is seen as a possibility, rather than something to be denied – If rather than Don’t.

Here are all of the lyrics:

If You Go Away

If you go away on this summer day
Then you might as well take the sun away;
All the birds that flew in a summer sky
When our love was new and our hearts were high;
When the day was young and the night was long
And the moon stood still for the night birds’ song.
If you go away,
If you go away,
If you go away.

But if you stay, I’ll make you a day
Like no day has been or will be again.
We’ll sail on the sun; we’ll ride on the rain;
We’ll talk to the trees and worship the wind.
Then, if you go, I’ll understand.
Leave me just enough love to hold in my hand.
If you go away,
If you go away,
If you go away.

If you go away, as I know you will,
You must tell the world to stop turning till
You return again, if you ever do.
For what good is life without loving you?
And I tell you now, as you turn to go,
I’ll be dying slowly till the next hello.
If you go away,
If you go away,
If you go away.

But if you stay, I’ll make you a night
Like no night has been or will be again.
We’ll sail on your smile, we’ll ride on your touch
I’ll talk to your eyes that I love so much.
But if you go, I won’t cry,
For the good is gone from the word ‘goodbye’.
If you go away,
If you go away,
If you go away.

If you go away, as I know you must,
There’ll be nothing left in the world to trust.
Just an empty room, full of empty space,
Like the empty look I see on your face.
I’d have been the shadow of your dog
If I thought it might have kept me by your side
If you go away,
If you go away,
If you go away.


The major differences between the original and McKuen’s adaptation are clear to see. First, rather than the whole of their prior relationship being swept aside, it is here recalled in loving detail in the first verse – When our love was new and our hearts were high. Then, in the second verse, instead of the future being imagined as fairy tale, as in Brel’s song, and being what the singer will do for the lover, it is realistically (in a romantic context) described, as an equal partnership – We’ll sail on the sun; we’ll ride on the rain.

As the song progresses, the possibility of the lover leaving becomes stronger and stronger – as I know you will…as I know you must…as you turn to go. The singer can visualise the leaving, and can talk about what life will be like after that event. For Brel’s singer, the situation is unimaginable, a measure of his cowardice. McKuen’s singer is braver, even though the prospect is bleak –  I’ll be dying slowly till the next hello. However, even in this bleakness, McKuen’s singer can imagine a reuniting – the next hello.

In addition, McKuen’s singer, unlike Brel’s, realises how pathetic wishing to be the shadow of the lover’s dog is – I’d have been the shadow of your dog, if I thought it might have kept me by your side.

Finally, McKuen has the line If you go away appear three times at the end of each verse, which fits the rhythm of the song. Brel adds a fourth Ne me quitte pas each time, spilling over the rhythm, as if he cannot stop begging even after the verse has finished, It is a further measure of his lack of self-control.

So, McKuen’s singer is smarter, more realistic, more self-aware, more dignified than Brel’s. Here is Shirley Bassey’s rendition of If You Go Away. Apart from the willing suspension of disbelief required to imagine that anyone would walk out on Shirley Bassey in her prime, notice the strength of the character she portrays.

Hers is a cover version that McKuen very much admired, and it is not difficult to see why the song attracted not only Bassey, but also, among so many others, Dusty Springfield, Frank Sinatra, Neil Diamond, Julio Iglesias, Barbra Streisand, Glen Campbell, Scott Walker, Ray Charles. If You Go Away is much recorded. The singer is invited to inhabit a very sympathetic persona.

Yet Brel’s is the more gripping character, because the song is so merciless a portrayal of weakness, that has lost none of its power and immediacy in the intervening 60 years. Chansons: ‘Literate, thoughtful, and theatrical songs.’ Indeed!

Meanwhile, in Portugal, someone is starting to hone his skills in preparation for a possible future in chanson (or maybe even fado).