STARTING POINTS FOR LOOKING AT THE ART OF TRANSLATION LIKE A REAL LINGUIST

“Wenn du es nicht einfach erklären kannst, hast du es nicht genug verstanden.” (Albert Einstein; translated as “If you can’t explain it easily, you haven’t understood it well enough.”) But what if you just lack the vocabulary for it?

Much as I believe that most people would soon get frustrated and fed up with debating about whether or not there is only one “proper” way or multiple “proper” ways to “do translation properly” – not least owing to all the “writing style” ways in which the content of the original material can differ (like register and stuff) – I can only feel that any intendedly authoritative declaration of how “translation is not as easy as it looks” or “translation is indeed not just about replacing words with words” should be pending evidence of some sort of discussion of how the one doing the translating views the world and / or their very relationship with the world in which they dwell, such as when it comes to cultural perspectives and general attitudes that have been acknowledged and openly referenced by the masses, in terms that may or may not be common. Ever one to discuss the barriers of translating – or, more specifically, the barriers to arriving at any sort of unquestionably lucid (yet categorically “correct”!) formulation at a given point in a piece of translation work (maybe so that it can be deliberated later) in this case – I but insistently agree that it’s not always a case of a question of whether or not a translator knows / is aware of a given fact or phenomenon strictly outside of himself / herself which would be the only thing to allow him or her to make a confident step toward achieving something expected of them. In other words, there are cases where it’s more appropriate for the translator to revise their existing knowledge, the connections that they make between X and Y, and maybe learn how to forget what they know (or think they know). Maybe it’s like: how well can you query your own mind independently? If I’m not being clear enough, maybe it’s best to compare it with the general concept of the development of rules which definitely exist but which are unspoken, unwritten.

A case in point: at the end of this comment are more of my “work-related anecdotes” such as I have included in many of these comments; I’ll say in advance that the last one is an example of a time I have had to deal with a terminology issue for which the solution is not guaranteed to be simple or straightforward. Of course I want to “get sharper and better when it comes to the terminology side of professional translation” – maybe what I said above would serve as at least the first step in a reliable approach if I wanted to do this (and I certainly should be prepared to, after all). Of course, there’s every reason to believe that a big part of it is an ongoing commitment to not being ignorant, not unlike the way a small child in an airport on holiday with his or her family is ignorant in that they willingly keep themselves entertained with a game or music or whatever while eagerly anticipating what the trip is for, while not caring a wit about what is actually happening in the airport or anything like that; but then how could anyone expect them to be able to explain the first thing about their trip as they didn’t buy the tickets or make any of the other arrangements that were necessary for it; and quite apart from the fact that they fully expect to enjoy themselves (and everyone with them to enjoy themselves) on their holiday, they couldn’t offer a sensible suggestion about anything to do with the juxtapositions of reality taking place all around them however much they really wanted to and they know this.

Like I said in the title, I said that here I was going to provide starting points for looking at the art of translation like a real linguist (like me, if you’ll pardon such immodesty). There are three of them here. So without more ado, let me elaborate further on this definition of “ignorance” in the previous paragraph, as far as translation (what I do!) is concerned. I just think that there is a category of knowledge where everything in it is simply meant to be understood by everyone as a matter of principle, but not all knowledge is like that. In the case of language – what I do, of all things – a straightforward example of the former is all the common words you can think of; but especially the words we have for numbers, for example, and what we say when we want to greet someone or thank them for something. Or all the basic rules of grammar that let one make themselves understood in a language (any language) whenever they feel the need to express themselves by stringing some words together to make something resembling a sentence, or close enough. But however many words in a language you know, every good journalist or spin doctor knows that exploiting knowledge that is NOT strictly meant to be understood by everyone as a matter of principle, is the most reliable way to get people sometimes more attached to their writing than they’re prepared to admit. And this, coincidentally, is a question I am compelled to ask about translation: when you’re unsure about how to translate a given expression in something, is there a term where you put a given expression as a (strictly unverified) translation of that expression in the original until further notice, wondering when you will be coming back to it later?

The second of my “starting points for looking at the art of translation like a real linguist” is this: if there is any term for defining verbs whose specific definition may – no, will – vary enormously depending on the circumstances in which they are enacted, I don’t know it. Let me explain. There are plenty of verbs which always have a common and rigid action connotation, two common examples being “to eat” and “to write”. So I’m not talking about these verbs. No, the verbs I’m talking about are ones which just will always require clarification in light of the question of the context in which they are used. “To investigate” is probably the best example I can think of. I mean, while it is well known and agreed that the police investigate crimes and stuff all the time, the procedures applied can and do vary depending on that which is to be investigated, and I don’t think it’s too hard for anyone to imagine clear and differing examples. In the case of the verb “to investigate”: the police may question witnesses, they may not. They make take samples to pass to forensics scientists, they may not. They may take photos of damage, they may not. But it’s simply not a rigid matter of doing A followed by B followed by C and so on, in the knowledge that it there is no chance that the future in any way hinges on the particular way how you do it (or happen to do it) up to the end. You don’t you just go and investigate something “in the usual way”, agree to go through the motions as it’s happening while not being “awake” about it, and then when it’s over that’s the end of the matter, and any possible ramifications to stem from it, forever. Truly, it is just flat fact that there is no “investigation” without the performance of one or more other verbs, and it is by no means unlikely that, depending on the situation at hand, one may think they know how to do it but they just don’t. It’s verbs like this that I’m talking about. Off the top of my head, “arrange”, “manage” and “maintain” are a few other ones. Doctor Phil would describe this as “operationally defining” such verbs, like he talks about “operationally defining” actions in his book Self Matters.

Number three. Much as I am into word games – no surprise there, right? – I’m not a big fan of crosswords. I’m sure there are plenty of people who immerse themselves in crosswords in newspapers or whatever on a regular basis while not necessarily having the strict aim of completing it… I’m not one of those people. And I do note that, when you’re trying to find the answer to a difficult question, any letters that have already been deduced pending the answering of previous questions (which just might not actually be correct in the realm of the crossword itself) just might be no less likely to make arriving at the correct answer harder than easier. And I think that’s kind of sad (for lack of a better word): after all, people have “kicked themselves” in the past for their failure to understand something earlier, and in the case of a crossword it’s likely to be a case of failing to understand the clue as a result of its overall verbal presentation and / or what is strictly your own acknowledgement thereof. My point here is that, if you consider yourself eager to understand how translation is not just about replacing words with words, maybe a study of crossword clues, what they suggest and exactly how they are linked to whatever answer is correct is one of the most reliable ways to explore more abstruse forms of verbal reasoning.

Here’s a crossword straight out of a newspaper. If you want to have a go, then I of course wish you good luck. If you get frustrated by any of the clues, I sympathise – but what’s important here is what might be defined as an empathy revolving around logic.
http://www.theguardian.com/crosswords/quick/13955

While I’m talking about exploring more abstruse forms of verbal reasoning, here’s my latest load of work-related anecdotes to ponder:

My records list this example from a German-to-English translation project I once did:
German original: “Kurze Lieferzeit und rasche Montage garantiert das servelift Baukastensystem”
English translation: “Short lead time and fast installation guaranteed by the servelift modular system”
I remember somehow failing to identify the nominative and accusative bits properly straight away.

I have long since done these press releases from French to English, all for the same client, which are basically marketing pieces for various upcoming events. Some of these events are exhibitions, and recently when I was translating another bunch of these I kept seeing the word “exposition” in the original – I remember how I kept translating it sometimes as “event” and sometimes as “exhibition”, but then I made a conscious decision to translate it as “exhibition”. It is true that I kept seeing “événement” in the original, which I decided should be translated throughout as “event”. But, in the case of exhibitions, I just ended up deciding that, in the scope of the work in question, these should be translated as “events” while “exhibitions” was to refer to the exhibits on display at the exhibition event.

Another anecdote about my work of translating these press releases from French to English: I remember translating, “Le Béjart Ballet de Lausanne fait escale en France après sa tournée mondiale” as “The Béjart Ballet of Lausanne is stopping by in France at the end of its world tour”. It felt funny, if the most sensible thing to do, to wittingly translate “après” as “at the end” even though I know it doesn’t mean that in English. That said, I did include a post-it upon it saying “please verify”, just in case. I tell you, translation can make you weary: bearing in mind how I consider it my responsibility to essentially “speak for my clients where they can’t”, there are times when that simply cannot be; and this is an example of one of them.

I was recently translating a very big legal document from German to English which was a piece of legislation. The original included the words, “die Auswirkungen von Schocks auf das Institut auf der Grundlage aufsichtlicher Stresstest-Methoden anhand der verfügbaren Daten bestimmen”. When I was translating it, my first suggestion (for the sake of putting anything that would help me get a firmer footing during my rendition of it in English where it was necessary) was “determine the impact of shocks on the institution on the basis of supervised stress test methods using the available data”, but I later on decided on replacing “supervised” with “supervisory-purpose”.

This is a very interesting one from a German-to-English project I did recently:
German original: “Der AN versichert, dass er die von ihm geschuldeten Leistungen grundsätzlich selbst erbringt.”
English translation: “The Contractor shall ensure that he makes the payments that he owes, himself.”
It’s interesting because of my choice to put the comma at the end of the penultimate word in the translation. After all, why would he owe payments to himself? Now that truly doesn’t make sense!

In another German-to-English project:
German original: “Trotzdem muss auch für weitere Kulturorte des Landes mit einem beachtlichen Aufkommen an Gruppenplastiken gerechnet werden”
English translation: “All the same, it is also necessary to allow for additional cultural locations in the country with a considerable volume of group structures” (rather than “making calculations” for them)

The German word “zufällig” may mean “accidental” in English or it may mean “by chance” / “random”.

This was taken from a French-to-English project pertaining to Web guidelines: “Généralités” could have meant “general characteristics” (about formatting or whatever) or it could have meant “general conditions”, when you think about it. The proper translation of that required the right level of consideration.

In a project where a German menu was to be translated into English: “fern” in German normally means “distant” in English but I translated “Kurze, geschmorte Rippe vom Rind mit fernen Aromen” as “Short braised rib of beef with faint aromas” rather than “distant aromas”.

In one French to English translation project I thought it best to translate “Nous vous renouvelons tout notre intérêt pour la poursuite des échanges commerciaux entre nos deux sociétés” as “We hereby reaffirm our full interest in commercial exchanges between our companies.”, with no discrete translation of the “pour la poursuite” bit (as “in the pursuit of” or whatever); if that’s what it takes to be sure that I won’t have anyone complaining that it sounds “too literal”!

One of the reasons I keep records of these work-related anecdotes is that I believe that they could help me address the issue of more prescriptive terminology in translation work more confidently (even though – at risk of sounding too vague about it – it probably wouldn’t apply in all cases). There was a German-to-English technical translation project I did which included the word “Zwangsmischer” in the original. When I first saw this word I considered that a “literal” translation of it would have been something along the lines of “compulsory mixer”, and I knew better than to put that. And when I accepted that “Zwang” always has some sort of implication of “force” in its English meaning, I originally thought of translating it as “pressure mixer” – “if that works”. But something compelled me to actively research an English translation of “Zwangsmischer” online even after that, and I eventually found “pug mill mixer”. I guess I was chuffed with myself with that one, but that doesn’t mean that a “pug mill mixer” and a “pressure mixer” are always strictly one and the same thing. And it’s not as if I believe I will be gaining an in-depth knowledge of the construction industry anytime soon.