Translation is – as we all know – interpretation. Another way of putting it might be: translation is explanation. When we translate a text all we’re really doing is explaining to the reader what the author had in mind, or at least, what we think he or she had in mind. I like to think of it like a husband explaining to his wife why he’s got lipstick on his collar after coming back from work ridiculously late and slightly drunk. The odds are firmly set against the husband. He doesn’t stand a cat in hell’s chance of getting away with this one, but bizarrely he manages to explain to his wife that not only is he not drunk, but the shirt he’s wearing does not actually belong to him but was borrowed from a colleague of his who was saying goodbye to his loving wife. The husband’s shirt happened to become soiled – when helping an old granny change her spare tyre in the work car park. If you can make it work translation is a highly creative and unbelievably tricky thing. Good fun, also.