Continuum of Impossibility

Translation is a thankless task and one which sometimes even has negative repercussions for the translator. Why are translators, especially those taking their first steps in this enlightened career, so utterly preoccupied with the quality of their work, perhaps more so than in other professions? There are two reasons for this. First of all, the translator is frequently working under the pressure of time. Being creative is difficult when the translator is constantly aware of the fact that the sands of time are fast trickling away. The second reason is key to translation itself and is fundamentally interwoven with the very concept of translation.

In essence, translation is an impossible exercise. We are never able to perfectly transpose the ideas of one person in one language embedded in one particular culture into another language and culture. It simply cannot be accomplished, much in the same way as recapitulation, reformulation or rephrasing is never an ideal match. Take, for example, “The heathens were still all avid worshippers of the Sun God Ra”. This is not the same as “There are still pagans who worship Ra, the Sun God”.

There are several phenomena at work here. Firstly, the very nature of linguistic multiplicity lends itself to multiple interpretations. Secondly, the overt and covert meanings of the author/speaker of a given text will very rarely ideally match the interpretations of the reader/listener. Every text has a clear and open meaning (overt) but also a deeper truth (covert) hidden between the lines. Expecting a reader/listener to know both these meanings is fanciful. Expecting thousands of readers/listeners to do so is simply inconceivable.

Translators are faced with thousands of glittering and shimmering signifiers whose light sometimes keeps us from seeing the distant, yet constant, glow of the signified. We are sometimes like lost children not able to see the forest for the trees, preoccupied with the details and often missing the whole.

Translation is an impossible task. The hope of creating the Perfect Translation is akin to the quest for the Holy Grail. The quest is tangible and very real, yet the Perfect Translation itself is illusory and unattainable, just like the Holy Grail. Translation theorists discuss at length concepts such as equivalence, translatability and untranslatability but these can all be boiled down to one concept - how near or far the translation is from the original. In effect, the translator moves along a continuum of impossibility gauging the quality of each translated text by the distance from the original. What we are discussing is not the apparent fidelity of fluency of a text but where this text figures on the continuum of impossibility.

Eco Advises

Umberto Eco once stated that to be a good translator one needs to translate and be translated. How true these words are. In fact, Eco goes on to state that the author must also act as an editor and consultant to the translator of his works. Umberto Eco makes it his duty to discuss the problems of translation with each individual translator regardless of whether he knows the target language or not. Eco asks his translators to discuss the problems they are having - which section is difficult, which paragraph seems unintelligible, or which sentence appears to be untranslatable. He is able to illicit answers to their problems by prodding them deeper and deeper about the culture of the target language and making them become aware of the real context of what lay within his mind at the time of writing.

In essence this shows us that the translator must have a dual outlook on the text he or she is translating - from the side of the author and the side of the translator. Or, in fact, from the point of view of the author and point of view of the reader. Moreover, a cultural fluency (or bi-culturalism) is essential. The first idea that comes to mind here is how does one translate into or out of the ancient languages? How does one grapple with a culture that is no more? All that can be done is to read, read, read, research, research, research until one immerses oneself in the source culture in order to then transpose (functionally) equivalent concepts into the (home) culture.

What Umberto Eco shows us is that even authors need to be sensitive to the sensibilities of the translator. And the best consultant for every translator is invariably the author of the original text. Interestingly, these are nigh-on always the most fascinating linguistic, translational and cultural conversations. The author who is ready to discuss a text with his/her translator is often an open person ready to take on new ideas. When culture meets culture, text meets text, author meets translator the boundaries between the two often blur, overlap and merge often producing something new and exciting. It is at moments like this the process of translation is most exhilarating.

Fidelity vs Intelligibility

The age old problem.

Should the translator focus on being as faithful to the original as possible or should his/her job be to make the translation as comprehensible as possible? The translator’s path, which might be elegantly rendered into Japanese as 訳道 (yákù-dō), is a difficult route fraught with danger but at the same time littered with gleaming jewels and precious stones. The path is narrow and is often bisected by what appear to be easier, more well-trodden roads. Sometimes other routes run parallel to our path but we must always stay true and keep on our path. The glittering jewels we sometimes find are priceless gems that need to be collected and cherished but more often than not they are cheap baubles that may seem beautiful at first glance but are of little worth and merely spoil the view.

The yákù-dō is not easy. Most of the time the way is hard to spot, is overgrown or littered with debris and only the more experienced travellers will be able to find the correct path. Initiates and novices of yákù-dō are taught to find the path using a variety of methods and tools so that in later life the yákù-dō master is able even to find his/her way blindfolded. Yákù-dō requires many years of training, dedication and learning and no one ever attains perfection.

Experience is crucial. Only with experience can the translator be sure that he/she has the correct balance, the yin-yang harmony of translation that is fidelity-intelligibility. Only then can the decision be made, depending on each text, which way the balance should be tipped - towards faithfulness or comprehensibility.

Arabic Explosion

The next great quantum leap in translation will most surely take place in the Arabic-speaking world. Throughout history religious upheaval, military conquest and foreign domination have often had immense implications on the linguistic point world.

When the nations of Europe began to feel the need to express themselves, it was only when the Christian religion caved in and allowed the use of the vernacular that these national identities (together with their languages) really took off allowing for a veritable blossoming of literature written in the vernacular as well as a new flourishing of translation.

The liberalisation of religious shackles in Judaism had an analogous effect on Ashkenazi Jewry allowing for the flowering of Yiddish, in much the same way that Luther and the Reformation affected the languages of Christendom.

Similarly, the future of translation in North Africa and the Near East and many other countries (that use Arabic) may be dependent on a similar liberalising movement. It is difficult envisaging such a movement in Islam due to the important position Arabic holds in the religion of Muḥammad, but should such a change occur, the repurcussions will be huge.

If and when the nations under Islam get the urge to begin translating the Qur’ān into their own varieties of Arabic (be they dialects or languages) we will most certainly see a linguistic explosion the like of which we have not seen for a long time.

There are over twenty known, widely spoken varieties of Arabic including Maghrebi, Egyptian, Sudanese, Iraqi, Hijazi, Chadian, Nigerian and Judeo-Arabic to name just a few. The question really is not if but more when, how and where the language explosion will take place. The effects of this Arabic linguistic renaissance will most certainly rock the world.‎‎

Mission Impossible II

Complex concepts often lead to questions such as why does one particular culture possess a word that another does not? Language always seeks to be as efficient as possible. If a concept is used enough in a particular culture, it begins to stick. Here are some more odd words that could prove to be difficult to translate:

Dai Lu maozi (Chinese): his wife is sleeping with someone else (literally, he wears the green hat)

Gwarlingo (Welsh): the rushing sound a grandfather clock makes before striking the hour

Setja upp gestaspjot (Icelandic): a phrase denoting the action taken by a cat when cleaning itself, with its body curled tightly in a circle with one back leg sticking up directly in the air and when a cat was seen doing this it was supposed to indicate that visitors would be turning up (literally, put up a guest-spear)

Pisan zapra (Malay): the time needed to eat a banana

Geisterfahrer (Austrian German): one travelling the wrong way up an autobahn (literally, ghost driver)

Mouton enragé (French): someone calm who loses their temper (literally, an enraged sheep)

Mamihlapinatapai (from Tierra del Fuego): two people looking at each other each hoping the other will do what both desire but neither is willing to do

Iets door de vingers kijken (Flemish): allow something illegal or incorrect to happen by conscious inaction (literally, to look at something through the fingers)

Yupienalle (Swedish): a mobile phone (literally, yuppie teddy)

Schürzenjaeger (German): someone who chases after women (literally, a hunter of aprons)

Amoureux d’une chevre coiffée (French): a man who is attracted to every woman he sees (literally, a love of a goat whose fur is combed)

Translators beware…

Mission Impossible I

Cultural terms are all the more difficult to translate when there is almost no known social equivalent. This post is dedicated to those terms which are almost completely impossible to transfer across without some sort of loss (and gain):

Buaya darat (Indonesian): a man who fools women into thinking he is a very faithful lover when in fact he goes out with many different women at the same time (literally, land crocodile)

Okuri-okami (Japanese): a man who feigns thoughtfulness by offering to see a girl home only to try to molest her once he gets in the door (literally, a see-you-home wolf)

Traer la lengua de corbata (Latin American Spanish): to be worn out; to be exhausted (literally, to have your tongue hanging out like a man’s tie)

L’esprit d’escalier (French): used to describe the precise moment a person comes up with a clever retort to an embarrassing insult (literally, spirit of the staircase)

Tantenverführer (German): a young man with suspiciously good manners (literally, aunt seducer)

Nito-onna (Japanese): a woman so dedicated to her career that she has no time to iron blouses and so resorts to dressing only in knitted tops

Faire du leche-vitrines (French): window-shopping (literally, to lick the windows)

Amakudari (Japanese): describes the phenomenon of being employed by a firm in an industry one has previously, as a government bureaucrat, been involved in regulating (literally, descent from heaven)

Harami (Arabic): an electrical plug adapter that allows more than one plug to be plugged into the same socket (literally, a thief)

Handschuhschneeballwerfer (German): coward (literally, somebody, who wears gloves to throw snow balls)

Pune-ti pofta-n cui (Romanian): forget about getting something (literally, hang your craving on a nail on the wall)

More to follow…

Decision-making

How does a translator know which equivalent to choose? When faced with a list of possibilities how does the translator make the vital choice? Appropriacy is as important as equivalence and relevance. Knowing how to make the ‘correct’ choice is just as valuable as the choice itself.

A fine illustration of this point are the problems faced by translators attempting to translate Polish geographical-administrative/local government terms into English. Let us list the terms most often faced by the translator:

gmina, wójt, burmistrz, powiat, starosta, województwo, wojewoda, sejmik

On consulting a range of source including dictionaries, glossaries, EU websites, the most common equivalents/translations appear to be:

Polish - English equivalent
gmina - commune, district, municipality
wójt - voyt, commune head, mayor
burmistrz - mayor, provost
powiat - district, county, poviat
starosta - starosta, district governor, county head, president of the county
województwo - voivodeship, province, region
wojewoda - voivode, provincial governor, governor
sejmik - provincial assembly, regional council

So how does the translator make the choice and decide which of these equivalents is more appropriate than the other? There are certain situations that call for the use of one equivalent rather than another. For example, the use of voyt or voivode may be appropriate in a historical context as opposed to mayor or governor. The bottom line, however, is the ability to know which equivalent is appropriate in a particular context and this comes with experience. Quite simply, experience is one of the most important tools for translators.

Ephemeral Translation

One of the most difficult aspects in translation is understanding and dealing with ephemeral expressions and concepts. How do we cope with phrases that may only last for a week, month and then disappear never to be heard of again? How do we even begin translating something which is scribbled down on a scrap of paper and has a useful life of thirty minutes at the most?

The successful translation of ephemera relies, obviously, on the translator’s ability to nigh on perfectly understand the source text and culture. More importantly, understand the sociolect or jargon that is being used. Ephemera are often used in specific environments and are often particular to a given field or domain. The understanding of context is therefore paramount and perhaps more important than his/her knowledge of the target text.

Within corpus linguistics the study of ephemera is seen as both important but at the same time one of the most difficult tasks in the creation of corpora. How does one systematically collect ephemera? What is/are ephemera? Post-it notes? Memos? Text messages

Ephemeral language and the study of it (what we might term ephemero-linguistics) would give us valuable insights into the day-to-day working of language. Knowledge of the structure of ephemera (thats is once we have reliably defined the term) would help us understand how ephemeral language is formed and, in turn, would help us in its translation.

Examples might include Back in 5, CU l8r, Gr8 idea. Language always seeks economy and the language of post-it notes, memos and text messages are great evidence of this. In everyday speech what do we delete? Verb? Nouns? Other parts of speech? How is grammar affected? Can we define an ephemeral grammar in much the same way that we can talk of the headline grammar of newspapers?

Knowledge of everyday language and a future ephemero-linguistics could give us valuable insights into the real working of language. We all concede that the translation of idioms are difficult but ephemera are perhaps the most difficult nut to crack. Research into the subject is scarce and published material on the subject is practically non-existent. Does this mean there is no such thing as ephemera or does it mean we need to invest more time into this area?

Creative Translation

Is it a crime to be creative? In some professions, perhaps, yes. Let us take the phrase creative accounting which is a euphemism for cooking the books or illegal accounting. Here, creativity is seen to be negative.

Is creativity something to be avoided in translation? Some may say that a healthy dose of creativity is important. As we established in a previous post (see here), the translator can often be regarded as an co-author and so without creativity any form of translation could prove difficult.

There are those, however, who believe over-creativity to be a danger to translators. Knowing when to use a dictionary equivalent and when to throw caution to the wind and choose something unique is the difference between an average translator and innovative translator (perhaps also between a safe translator and maverick translator). The line between neologism and creative equivalent is indeed a fine one. A few examples will serve to illustrate the point

Let us take the Polish word łże-elity which has been variously translated as ‘lying elite’, ‘false elite’ or even ‘decepto-eltite’ (see previous post). Both all and none of these can be regarded as appropriate yet the word needs an equivalent. We can form a contiuum of equivalents from safe through to maverick (creative) and then choose which one best serves our purposes.

Another example which is often difficult to translate into English is the Polish skrót myślowy whose equivalents, when placed on a continuum, can range from ‘brachylogy’, ’shortcut in thinking’, ‘mental shortcut’ to the (creative) ‘thought-cut’.

Our ability as translators to be creative is most certainly what sets us apart, and likewise, what differentiates the average (mundane) translation from the interesting (maverick) one.

Is Translation Interpretation?

As we know, translation metaphors abound. Some bring us closer to the truth, some confuse and confound. The nature of translation makes it difficult to understand the phenomenon, hence the countless number of metaphors which are often contradictory. On the one hand, translators are asked to be as faithful as possible, but on the other hand, they are told to never translate word-for-word. Translators are told to mirror the text often in an almost mechanical way, yet the very task of translation is itself extremely creative.

Thus, the question that really interests translation theorists is whether the translation process is a ‘primary’ or ’secondary’ process. Is translation ‘creation’ or is it ‘recapitulation’? If, on the one hand, we assume that translation is a ‘primary’ process then the question of authorship is paramount - the translator is the ‘creator’ of the text, a ‘co-author’ of sorts. If, on the other hand, the process is ’secondary’ then the ‘creativity factor’ is of less import and, in effect, the focus is on the source rather than the target text.

This is not necessarily an ‘either-or’ choice. Translation theorists and translator practitioners tend to favour one approach over the other often basing their judgements on the kind of text being translated, rather than on the translation process per se. The paradox within translation studies is that general theories are not always able to encompass all texts and a more detailed approach often exemplifies the true intricacies involved.

So, is translation interpretation? Regardless of whether we believe the process to be primary or secondary, it is difficult to not agree with deconstructionists who maintain that all forms of reading a text are forms of interpretation and re-interpretation and thus ‘creation of a new meaning’. If this is the case, every reading of a text (that is, every translation) can also be classified as an interpretation (or re-interpretation) of a source text in which case we can also conclude that there is an element of creation involved. If so, translation IS primary and therefore the translator is both a (co-)creator and (co-)author.