When VĂĄclav Havel, playwright and future president of the Czech Republic, was imprisoned in the 1970s, he came across a novel entitled The Road to Don Quixote (Cestou za Quijote; 1949), freely based on Cervantesâs experiences in an Algerian prison. As he read it, admiring the prophetically modern quality of the book and the authorâs imaginative grasp of what it felt like to be a prisoner, he realised that he had actually met the author. At that time, when he was a young man in his early twenties attempting to break into the world of Czech literature and drama, the older man â a writer of short stories and essays, and a translator of Shakespeare and Joyce â inspired his respect, but little more. It was not until later, as they worked together as friends and co-signatories of Charter 77, that Havel came to appreciate the true qualities of ZdenÄk UrbĂĄnek.
Portrait of ZdenÄk UrbĂĄnek (Image from The Archive of Fine Arts, Creative Commons non-commercial use-Share-Alike 3.0)
UrbĂĄnek was born on 12 October 1917 in Prague. After graduating he became an editor, first at the publishing house EvropskĂ˝ literĂĄrnĂ klub and in 1945 of the periodical SvobodnĂŠ slovo, before working in the Ministry of Information and the Czechoslovak state film company as a script reviewer. In 1957, however, he contracted tuberculosis and left full-time employment to devote himself to translation. He had a special affinity with Irish literature, describing himself as an âhonorary Irishmanâ; his translation of James Joyceâs Dubliners (DubliĹanĂŠ; Prague, 1959; 011313.kk.22) testifies to this.
Among the many British and American authors whom he translated were T. S. Eliot, Eugene OâNeill, Scott Fitzgerald and Charles Dickens, but his crowning achievement was his translation of seven of Shakespeareâs plays; the British Library holds a three-volume edition of these containing Romeo and Juliet, Richard II, Richard III, Julius Caesar, Hamlet and all three parts of Henry IV (Brno, 1992-95; YA.2002.a.740). Of these, Hamlet retained a place in the repertoire of the National Theatre in Prague from 1959 to 1965.
Frontispiece and tittle-page from Romeo a Julie (Prague, 1964; 11760.a.6),translated by UrbĂĄnek, illustrated by Ota JaneÄek.
The British Library is also privileged to own a copy of UrbĂĄnekâs earliest published work, a collection of short stories entitled JitĹenka smutku (âMourning starâ), which bears a dedication in the authorâs own hand.
Manuscript dedication on the flyleaf of JitĹenka smutku (Prague, 1939; X.909/81940).
At the same time as he was embarking on his literary career and establishing himself in publishing, UrbĂĄnek was also becoming active in a very different sphere. Since the Nazi invasion of Czechoslovakia the previous year he had been living in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, and the growing persecution of the Jews was brought home to him in a particularly forceful way when his friend JiĹĂ Ohrenstein, a Jewish poet who wrote under the name of JiĹĂ Orten, was knocked down by a German ambulance in 1941 and died after being denied hospital treatment on racial grounds. UrbĂĄnek could not save him, but he could at least preserve his work and his literary reputation, and wrote an introductory essay for a collection of his writings, Eta, Eta, zĚlutiĚ ptaĚci (âEta, Eta, yellow birdsâ ; Liberec, 1966; X.909/8664). On a more practical level, UrbĂĄnek and his wife VÄra provided temporary shelter in their two-room apartment for several Jewish fugitives on their way to safer refuges, and also offered a collection-point for food parcels being sent to others who had already been dispatched to TerezĂn. In recognition of his efforts, UrbĂĄnek was subsequently designated as a âRighteous Gentileâ by the State of Israel.
Cover of JitĹenka smutku.
UrbĂĄnek never hesitated to put his personal safety at risk in the service of both humanitarian and literary causes. He was frequently subjected to police questioning, and even his work as a translator exposed him to danger through his choices of authors and the ideas which they expressed, leading him to publish them anonymously or under borrowed names. From 1972 onwards he contributed to various samizdat and exile literary publications, as after 1968 he had been placed on the list of banned writers.
In one of his short stories, âThe Visitâ, translated by William Harkins in On the Skyâs Clayey Bottom: Sketches and Happenings from the Years of Silence (New York, 1992; YA.1993.a.20757), he describes a visit from a State Security representative hoping to recruit UrbĂĄnekâs wife to spy on a guest coming to stay with their neighbours. When it turns out to be a mistake (the man was looking for a Party member with a similar name living two floors down), the unwelcome caller departs, grumbling; âWeâre already loaded down with work and they send me another two floors up. Goodbye then. And keep quiet or youâll get it.â In just three short pages UrbĂĄnek pithily and trenchantly captures the atmosphere of claustrophobia and distrust which prevailed immediately before the end of communism in Czechoslovakia (the story was first published in May 1992, only months before the âVelvet Divorceâ which divided the Czech Republic from Slovakia). He himself had made a significant contribution to the downfall of the old regime through his work with the human rights declaration Charter 77, signed by many leading cultural figures who were punished by imprisonment or dismissal from their posts; UrbĂĄnek was forbidden to leave Czechoslovakia after returning in 1969 from a six-month stay at All Souls College, Oxford, and did not do so again until October 1989, when he was finally able to visit the USA as a guest of the Charter 77 Foundation.
Despite the fact that UrbĂĄnek was 90 when he died in 2008, Havel declared that he had died before his time. âWithout him,â he stated, âI can hardly form an adequate conception of what Czech fiction, Czech essay writing, or Czech translation today have to tell usâ.
Susan Halstead, Subject Librarian (Social Sciences), Research Services