Translation is an art

ARE THERE LIMITS TO THE APPRECIATION OF TRANSLATION AS AN ART?

Just for a moment, try to imagine what the world would be like if there were no professional translators. Surely things like large-scale modern international trade (especially of high-tech fare) and pioneering research involving people from more than one nation would pretty much grind to a halt. The spread of information and knowledge from one people to another would be all the poorer, and I’m not just talking about whole future generations growing up with a poorer knowledge of general world history and all the lessons that are recognised with it.

Can you really imagine a world with a total absence of people who are paid to convey messages from language to another (for whatever reason)? Would this mean a world in which foreign languages were no longer taught? Personally, I don’t think anything as radical as that would happen – surely the idea that everyone would always refuse to learn a foreign language simply because they “have no need for it” would be crazy… wouldn’t it? If foreign languages exist and seem here to stay, are they to be ignored? I don’t think so. I don’t think you would have to look too hard to find someone who’s learned a foreign language merely to impress their friends or something. Meanwhile, as an example of something far more recognised by the masses, Jim Carrey learned Korean just for the sake of part of a joke in “Yes Man” (where the FBI is interrogating him and Zoey Deschanel over the all suspicion-provoking activities his character did in the film). But, to get back to the point: I still (kind of) think that a total absence of translators in the world would be a prelude to a reduction of the significance of foreign languages in the world in general; I think that it would mean that everyone who did learn them would be more likely than not only to learn enough to “get by” (such as ordering things in foreign restaurants and booking tickets for things, or maybe exchanging personal opinions about petty interests with foreigners). But then I think of this time when, during a French class back at school, our teacher had us do something fun (it was probably nearing the end of term): we split into groups and played scrabble in French. I am optimistic as to the personal interest in foreign language that activities like that could encourage (if not immediately, then at some point in the future).

But this isn’t merely about the “art” of foreign languages (i.e. the totally of what can be realised and achieved with the pondering of foreign languages) and learning them; it’s about the “art” of translating. How much is translation recognised and appreciated as an “art”? Right now – I’ll be honest – I imagine that some might claim that this comment has so far been nothing other than me “rambling on”: writing nothing more than a load of wishy-washy clap-trap crap while failing to make any definite point with any kind of conviction. TURNING POINT. However successful I may be as a translator at the present time and in years to come, one thing I really don’t ignore as far as my work is concerned (not that it’s the only such thing, by a long shot) is the circumstance that while machine translators and “translation software” have categorically improved every much as people have claimed, this is never without the argument that “machine translators will never replace human translators.” How comforting. (Well, I would say that; but then I know that there are plenty of people who have spent more than a brief moment or two on the topic of “lost in translation” / “getting it right”, whether or not they do what I do for a living…)

So what does this mean for professional translators like myself? Maybe in the first two paragraphs I talked about how things “might be”, but now I intend to talk about things as they actually are. To me, the very fact that people have invented machine translation software and continued to improve it, indicates an interest of many to acknowledge “the finer points of language” at pretty much the same level I do (and should do) when I’m doing my work, and I guess I can only congratulate them for successfully letting it show in new versions of translation software (together with including a wider vocabulary in said software, of course). Whether or not this is an augury that professional translators need to “raise their game”, I think I can safely claim that, when they do what they do, it’s all they can do to comply with an increasing number of not so much rigorous as rigid and abstruse demands which originated from something other than any professional translator’s simple and straightforward imposition of standards, or ingenuity. This might revolve around terminology, for example, or it might be other expressions that certain people insist on using repeatedly in order that, as far as they are concerned, it will eventually guarantee that different people see eye-to-eye about something about a given subject (even if it were openly and unanimously agreed that the subject in question is not a subject for everyone… go figure). I hope this makes sense: when you’re playing the role of professional translator, only so much credit should be expected for “getting it right”; “doing it right” is what counts.

Having said that, have I just provoked the question: “So what do you do to ‘do it right?’” I suppose that, if anything, there are times when I attach a post-it note to some word or words within the translated material that I have written; if they don’t say “Please verify”, then they say, “Maybe you would like to re-word this?” or I’m asking someone to collate the particular expressions I’ve used (however educated and sagely chosen I may be inclined to view them as personally) against any relevant information which the client may have but I don’t – admittedly, in such cases I pretty much always can’t be specific about such “relevant information”; but then sometimes the client might want to keep the same confidential from anyone who doesn’t need to view it anyway.
At any rate, I continue to experience these little “anecdotes” I’ve known in my work – there are many examples of these listed in previous comments here. In one project I did recently, I read this in the original: “In der Altstadt gibt es zahlreiche kleinere Läden und Geschäfte wie Bäcker und Fleischer”. I was surprised when I read the word “Fleischer”, meaning “butcher” in English – although I never had any doubt as to its meaning originally, when I was still learning German at school the German word for “butcher” I was taught was something else. That word was “Metzger”. It’s not like “Fleischer”, which contains the German word “Fleisch”, which means “meat” in English; and in that sense I guess I just had to give myself a little credit for remembering the word “Metzger” after all these years. By the way, the agency I did this particular translation job for was one in Austria for which I have already done many, many projects over a period of several months. Maybe the truth is that “Fleischer” is the Austrian German word for “butcher” rather than English… I don’t know. Also, I also think it’s a myth that to “edit” a document means to improve it i.e. render it of “higher quality”.

Time for a public question (even if it is one that is probably very trite to many): if translation is an art, then… what is proper translation all about? This is what I would suggest as a brief, off-the-cuff answer: attention to detail; consideration of the subject matter; the insight to appreciate what certain expressions sometimes really suggest regarding their meaning; you should ask yourself: when someone reads what you are writing, would they be more likely to agree that its message is clear (or at least relatively clear) or more likely to be frustrated as they tried to read it – could they see its value (whether or not it’s supposed to be of any value to them i.e. whether or not they are among the intended readership of this translation material)? If you need help understanding that last point, try considering the scenario of someone reading what you are writing by chance rather than willingly – you could say that, depending on who they are and depending on the material, they don’t expect to read anything “specific” nor anything “non-specific” when reading it, for the simple reason that THEY CAN’T.

As I was writing this comment I thought of the song “Between the Lines” by Sara Bareilles. After all, the concept of “reading between the lines” is often collated with the topic of how to translate properly, isn’t it? I have listened to that song before, and I decided to look up the lyrics of it, to look for parallels in what she says in it with what my work as a translator really entails (including the true extent of my understanding of the same). I quote the following lyrics:

“No right minds could be wrong this many times”
“My memory is cruel”
“I’m queen of attention to details” (which I thought of before researching the lyrics for the purpose of this comment)
“Eyes wide shut unopened”
“I’ve learned to listen through silence”
“I tell myself all the words he surely meant to say”

Bareilles is a likeable enough singer, but when I got her album which includes this song (it’s called “Little Voice”) as a Christmas present some year in the past, why did it never include the lyrics of the songs in its packaging? It was only when I read the lyrics of this song included with this video of Youtube, today, that I truly appreciated how far the subject matter of the song is from translation: she’s put herself in the position of an imaginary girl singing about her relationship with some guy in which trust has decayed; she’s letting it be known that she’s not as contented or at ease as she thinks she should be. Shows what I know! But I look forward to redeeming myself with my next translation work (which has already been granted as mine; I’ll be starting it tomorrow morning)…