How do I know

HOW DO I KNOW…

Dealing with the limitations of translation work capability / options is not necessarily easy or straightforward on any given occasion by any means, not least because they tend to be subtle and / or elusive. Lots of people say that translation is not just about replacing words with words, and of course that’s very true. Would you translate the ungrammatical English sentence “I wood of bin there” into French as “Je bois de poubelle là”? If not that, then what? Whatever the case, such people, when they talk about this, mostly allude to writing as an art and aspects of the same which simply have to be recognised in some way when it comes to linguistic aspects which may apply in one language but not another, and – and I appreciate that this sounds vague – are “just different”. Less commonly, it may be supposed to be a reference to cultural and societal factors that a writer intends to reflect. Knowledge of translation as an art and not just as a plain practice, helps one to understand certain things independently, or maybe predict them… but one’s own knowledge that they take for granted can only assist them so much, isn’t that right? It’s enough to compel most of us to crave for a mind so open that it’s distracting, if that makes sense.

But at the end of the day, writing – communicating – is expression in itself – mind you, I can understand people thinking that things like the notes I made in the writing of this comment, do not count. And people don’t like forfeiting the right to speak, certainly if the subject is of importance to them. And, sure as death and taxes, this would include the right to speak what is probably a load of nonsense if there’s a possibility that it could – just maybe – be a prelude to realising what one actually is talking about at a later stage. You see, when you look at the subject of “interpretations” of things like religious texts, along with arguing whether this thing or that thing was translated “properly” or “badly” (WHATEVER THAT’S SUPPOSED TO MEAN – just thought I’d make it clear that I specifically never wanted to say that indiscreetly), it’s easy to get to thinking that translators have a far greater responsibility in that the very solidarity of society, at least in part, hinges on them doing translation work which is not only “correct” (by whatever justifications which are logical or otherwise provable) but… quite simply reliable and trustworthy. And I don’t think too many people can discuss the meaning of that with any sort of confidence, let alone eloquently and with passion. You really don’t have to be all that willing to engage in intelligent debate to realise something like that; it struck me while I was having a shave.

Hopefully the following example will provide some sort of enlightenment on that score. You can say I’m stating the obvious here, but there’s no hope of one being a translator worth the name if they can’t or won’t show ongoing linguistic inventiveness that is both clear and reliable, or else… something will just not function or develop as desired; and the consequences of that can be so bothersome or, depending on the circumstances, worrying. And I’m very well educated so believe me, I know what I’m talking about. Anyway, here’s the example: anyone who’s ever felt patronised before they had a word for it, will surely be soothed a bit once they learn of the verb “to patronise”. What I mean: the fact of knowing this word should help them to feel a bit less angry whenever they do get patronised, as they are, now, then able to discuss the details of their grievance more confidently, even if it’s only to themselves, in their head (after all, isn’t that what independent judgement is all about?). Whatever the case, we now realise how grateful we are for the existence of the verb “to patronise”, aren’t we? Oh, I’m such a witness of my own…

Now, I know that people have deliberately written certain sentences in English which may not look grammatical at all but, when they’re looked at in the right way, you see that they are. Maybe the best known example is “Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.” The only definitive way to explain how it works is to explain certain aspects of English grammar – like what a parsed sentence is, in this case – to the listener, who will NOT NECESSARILY HAVE HEARD TERMS LIKE THIS BEFORE. There is actually a Wikipedia page dedicated solely to that sentence (they have pages for everything, don’t they!?). Not that you have to be a professional linguist like me to do this, of course; but at the end of the day, the explanation required will essentially be (end up) the same for anyone who wants to put it forward. Think about it. But, getting back to the topic of me and my translation work – for this is a blog as I wrote as part of my translation career – I don’t solely discuss things like grammar as grammar in plain yet indisputably objective terms for the purpose of making clear what I claim to know about translation. I think this is clear in other blogs I have already written, and I’ll basically be “going beyond” in the rest of this comment as well. Want to read on?

Yes, when it comes to translation work, one may get to thinking how they could be sure of answering certain hypothetical questions which some people, hypothetically, find it only too easy to ask. Questions like, “How do I convey the author’s ‘true’ intent (assuming that I actually do / could ‘get’ it)?” “How do I convey the author’s ‘authenticity’ (assuming that I actually do / could ‘get’ it)?” Or their state of mind? There’s a lot to be said about the state of mind of the character who sings this song (played by a comedian

Call him a “hopeless case”, call what he says “weird”, but on some level you feel sorry for him (certainly if his family died), and he must subconsciously want to be indulged and treated with a distinct level of favour which is hardly aggrandising in nature. But I find it only too easy to believe that the reason he… well, pretends to play a trick on us by telling us not to wear mittens with the result that this makes our hands cold, is wanting to compensate for powerlessness and all the fear that goes with it – but that doesn’t mean others should feel concerned about his intentions, right? If we imagine, just for a moment, that this is a real person: he must know that he doesn’t actually victimise anyone with this non-trick (or try to), but, whether you want to hear it or not, he simply wouldn’t be smart or competent enough to victimise anyone, would he? Do you think he would agree? But just how would he expect himself to be remembered, and how would he feel about others being expected to consign his bizarre song to memory (and why not, if it really is “the best Christmas song that ever existed”)? What would be the things most likely to make sense to him on that score? Now, the lyrics may be easy to translate into another language when you think about it, but you just know that I’m just not talking about the linguistic structure of the song here, don’t you? Myself, I like it when I’m sure that people will remember my samples of translation work for the same reason I will remember them, or when I’m sure that they will be consigned to memory in the same way that I would consign them to memory.

Please don’t presuppose that I am in any way usually bad at overcoming translation barriers and understanding complex issues in individual instances, but maybe it’s just too much for me to believe that I could always make what is hard easy – certainly when it’s so easy to want to disprove the adage “good questions require good answers” in translation – coherence can be anything but straightforward here. It’s not like I’m not used to obeying rules purely for the sake of doing translation work and correctly; rules which, in all candour, may have an importance to someone else that I have underestimated. That said, I continue to do what I can to identify any and all other rules that should be followed… but that doesn’t mean I never wonder when it’s better to break the rules.

It’s one thing to follow rules. Of course, being self-employed, I have certainly felt the need to set my own rules for myself from time to time. And while I’m as interested as improving my status and reputation as the next entrepreneur, there are probably people in this world who will knowingly judge me more readily by the rules I break rather than by the rules I make – whether it’s good, bad or neither. Sound familiar?

It makes me irate when I pay attention and still fail to arrive at the normal expected conclusion, or solution for something, which is (effectively, at least) the only one that is accepted as correct. And that only supports my belief that I’m the person capable of making myself most angry in connection with my job, given my actual situation. Still, I am pleased that I’ve got plenty of work in the pipeline right now, and I remain fairly confident that I am capable of finding at least as much satisfaction in it as in a world of sunshine and rainbows forever.