The Perfect Translator

PERFECT TRANSLATIONS / THE PERFECT TRANSLATOR

One recommendation for advancing as an entrepreneur is to send prospective clients things that could benefit them – something related to your industry that is likely to be of interest to them or even benefit them; like a free report (Chris Cardell, if you’re reading this, I’m sure you’re much more knowledgeable about the strategy than I am). And one thing I did actually recently consider was to send collections of bad translations to possible customers e.g. “Lost in Translation” by Charlie Croker. The ever present humour factor aside, there are very good reasons to believe that books like this do a good job showing how easy it is to stumble across a translated message that’s not quite up to scratch. So to what extent do they really paint a picture of what you can expect (maybe there are times when you’ve read poor translations and been quick to claim that you could do better – really?)? Speaking as a foreign languages professional, sometimes a deficient translated message may well be trying to communicate something very serious (like if it’s a business or a legal document) – the problem is that it is just let down by one or more poorly chosen words, or a clumsy phrase.

How to categorise translation error? How about not in my eyes but in the eyes of foreigners, who may write things which, while they know them to be 100% grammatically correct and even easily understandable, are still just “broken English” – maybe it’s to do with a word or construction or something that is not present in both languages. I can’t think of a definite example but the book referred to above contains this entry, which might give you an idea of what I mean:

“Massage offered at a hotel in Kandy, Sri Lanka:

Body massage is done synchronously, to prevent parts of the party getting over activated.”

Sometimes, doing it fluently or laconically is just impossible, or damn near it. And one thing sure to add to this kind of frustration is the fact that, sometimes, language changes over time. The changes may be something straightforward, like spelling, or it may be something more abstract like, say new meanings. For example, this blog is proof that the German word “interessant” can means “interested” rather than “interesting” in English.http://selbstversorger-blog.over-blog.de/article-p…

In my last comment I talked about a link between imagination and translation work. But there’s imagination, then there’s applying imagination (ever heard anyone say, “I’m trying to think”?), and what if I suggested that sometimes the latter is the only thing that saves a person from embarrassment or worse? (I think of the time when I heard a story where “Gérard Depardieu a assisté à un viol” was once translated from French to English not as “Gérard Depardieu witnessed a rape” but “Gérard Depardieu assisted in a rape”.) Does that sound like something you connect with bad translations, like those waiting to be read in the book mentioned above? Mind you, the situation is that I have not started sending copies of this book or anything like it to possible translation clients. The particular book mentioned above – and this is just one example of many of its kind – is just a list of bad translations, with no discussion of any theory behind anything. I suppose not everyone can discuss linguistic phenomena with equal alacrity – and I’ve already stated earlier here what I do for a living – and in case it’s not obvious, I would say that this is the perfect place for me to be doing exactly that (I should probably be wary of giving too much succour to my competition, though).

So yes, like I said before, there’s imagination, then there’s applying imagination; and I fear that I may be trying to sound like a smartass, not necessarily doing a very good job of it. But I believe it is a phenomenon that could be closer than you think. Imagination isn’t always about talent for making up things to include in works of fiction, jokes, whatever. Why do you think people say, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”? Or, “The things you own end up owning you”? Surely all kinds of people have said those things.

But I want to write about translation / translation work here. If I’ve stimulated any discussion about the various (supposed) better and more reliable ways to do it that people have stated, then I’ve done my job. And let’s forget that people didn’t always have access to machine translation tools (and it’s not just stuff like Babelfish; there’s also Trados and MemoQ etc.).
Word-for-word? I certainly avoid putting too much faith in that approach. Indeed, some people seem to think that “word-for-word translation” and “literal translation” are one and the same; and I have to agree that it’s common for a word in a given language to have multiple meanings i.e. have different, utterly separate lexical implications (see also the second paragraph). Anyone who has read my comments will know that I have mentioned language-related anecdotes I have known in my own translation work – those fall under this. Like when I said that a certain German word could mean “certificate” or “proof” in English. In everyone’s mind, including my own, a certificate is but a piece of paper which evidences something; but just about anything could qualify as “proof” of… well, something (or at least something that supports a specific argument).

So, word-for-word aside, what else have we got?

…I have to admit, even I would find it hard to suggest a conceivable alternative. I don’t know about sentence by sentence – at the end of the day, like I said, grasping the right meaning of each word matters in the writing of a message that is correct in every sense of the word; but even then, it pays to consider its readability and the possibly of it being falsely interpreted. But the times I really agree I’m being tested are when I need to translate a sentence which uses one or more words in a way that I would not see used with the counterpart word(s) in English. And it’s not as if expressions like “It’s raining cats and dogs”, which definitely sound peculiar literally, don’t exist in languages besides my own mother tongue.

How about phrase by phrase? As an example, I recently wrote this in one translation job; “The lent sum shall include interest from the day that it is paid”. I say that there are two phrases in this: “The lent sum shall include interest” and “from the day that it is paid”. Now let’s look at it out of context. “The lent sum shall include interest” could pass for a grammatically complete sentence on its own, and while the words “lent”, “sum” and “interest” all have alternative meanings in English, you just know that no-one would bring them up here. That’s a given, isn’t it? As for “from the day that it is paid”: from the day that what is paid? Is the day specified anywhere? Would anyone have any pre-determined ideas about what the payment action would involve?
For all I’ve said here, everyone would love to see the perfect translator, but then everyone says that nobody’s perfect. Come to think of it…

I was recently walking through a meadow when I found a lamp on the ground. Being curious, I picked it up and rubbed it and a genie came out and he offered me one wish, and my wish was to be the perfect translator. The genie said to me, “hold on… you’re George Trail, aren’t you?” And I said, “yes…” And the genie said to me, “Do you think your translation work could be improved?” All I could say was, “how nice it would be, and how easy my job would be, if I knew I was the perfect translator.” The genie offered to look at my most recent translation work, which I accepted. After a bit he said, “Very interesting. So, do you want me to make you the perfect translator?” I said yes, and he said, “OK, here goes…” and he clicked his fingers. “You are now the perfect translator. However, I’m afraid there is a limit to my magic here. I wouldn’t say that you were a ‘bad’ translator to begin with, but I’m afraid that you won’t remain the perfect translator forever, and don’t ask me why.” “Oh dear, that’s a shame,” I said, “So when will it run out?” “That I’m not telling you,” he said. “But I believe you can be trusted to remember what matters in your performance of your work. Keep it up!” And then he disappeared, leaving me to do what I wanted.