TAKING THE RISK OUT OF TRANSLATION

As a professional translator who wants to go far in the industry, I cannot over-emphasise how much I care about taking the risk out of translation wherever possible.

I admit it: I don’t always know exactly what to do (at the start, anyway) to find the best way to write a good translation of any given sentence. Still, I do know that the need for independent thought never dies – but then I have the good sense to realise that it never really does; not just in translation, but in anything. (And isn’t it usually relished anyway?) Even so, in my work, there are occasions where I am just forced to take risks, whether I like it or not – in the worst case scenarios, the best I can do is highlight what I’ve written in a comment which states “please verify” i.e. please verify this attempted appropriation compared to the corresponding place in the original. And if I do make a bad decision and actually write something that deserves to be defined as stupid… well, I don’t think I have the option of not accepting responsibility for it. It’s always a good sign if you can identify independently the very reason why you made a bad choice in anything, whether you deserve to be berated for it in some way or not. In the case of translation, this most likely means being in touch with the very way you think, and your mindset and attitudes in and to things in general, on a whole new level. (You know, there is a song called “Over-conscious” – the first time I learned of it, it was on the Alex Parks CD called “Introduction”.) That said, it’s not always easy to shun the tendencies of your mind – certainly if you are a proud and confident person for the right reasons. Whether or not you consciously think as much doesn’t really change anything. But I stopped having imaginary friends when I realised that they agree with everything I say (LOL).

Now, everyone knows that translation is not just about replacing words with words – indeed, a translation of a message is by no means likely to be proper or “real” if it’s not put into the right context through careful choice of words. It was Arle Richard Lommel who said, “Machine translation will displace only those humans who translate like machines.” However good machine translation tools get, I agree with him!

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that it’s unwise to look at the subject of translation – and translation-related judgement, for that matter – always in a “typical” way. I can still remember one translation project I did years ago where what I translated was a letter from French to English, which ended “Agréez l’expression de mes sentiments les plus distingués”. Now, “Agree the expression of my feelings the most distinguished” would definitely have been too literal a translation, and there’s no way I wrote that. But, if we’re talking about viewing translation in a strictly “typical” way, we might write a revision of that as something like “Agree the most distinguished expression of my feelings”, but that doesn’t really work either. In “typical” attempts to write revisions of it which are progressively less literal-sounding and awkward, we may say e.g. “Acknowledge the most distinguished expression of my feelings”, followed by “Please acknowledge the most sincere expression of my feelings” etc. etc. …all while overlooking the fact that letters written in English do not usually end anything like this, but rather something like “Yours sincerely” or “Yours faithfully” on its own in a new paragraph, just before the signature of the sender.

I once saw this advert of two simultaneous messages discouraging the use of a mobile phone while driving (this is now illegal in Britain). Basically, it was one line of the first message written in red, then one line of the second message written in blue, then another line of the first message written in red, then another line of the second message written in blue, and so on. You can only read one thing at once, right? I agree – just because the messages were written in different colours didn’t make things any easier. But translation can be like trying to read two things at once. You just want to be sure that what you’re writing is as correct as you’ve been led to believe by… well, something. Something in your mind. Or, consider jokes which are supposed to originally plant one idea in your head to “mislead” you, before you’re then left to realise that it’s something else that’s being talked about, at the end. It’s a common format in the jokes you hear in “Scenes We’d Like To See” in Mock The Week, for example.

Now, as a professional translator, I’m as concerned with the truth in my work as any judge presiding over a legal case (both establishing it and sustaining it through carefully considered actions). At the end of the day, you just have to know how to show the truth in a reliable and credible way, unfalteringly.

When we agree that something has “gone to someone’s head”, as the saying goes, we usually immediately start to prepare for a rough ride in connection with it and might be afraid as we consider the possible results of the situation. If we see someone behaving erratically, and agree that they have “lost it”, it usually triggers feelings of discomfort and alarm. Just for a moment, bear with me as I state a couple of lines of rather erratic nonsense:

“I’ve shown a considerably greater interest in Madonna these days ever since I learned that she was allergic to peanuts, because for years I thought that the printing press was invented by the Indians, not the Chinese.”

Now, of course that’s nonsense by anyone’s standards, but there’s no reason to label it as something which is capable of causing a disturbance. There’s nothing in it capable of misleading or obfuscating any kind of truth. And I’m sure I wouldn’t have to worry about being hunted down for saying it if I didn’t live in a free country.

But that doesn’t mean that there’s never any reason to care about something which clearly isn’t true (or even existent at all) even if it initially seems to violate the ways of sense. (I’m sure psychiatrists will understand and agree.) In this animated song video

we see a man who clearly has a problem with donkeys which is just, well, demented; although I guess that no-one should take it seriously really, on the basis of the argument that it’s nothing but a piece of comical nonsense. Still, thank God it’s just all made up. But I personally do wonder what he would think if he saw a donkey, say, killing someone with malice aforethought. Would he really feel confirmation / validation at what he (supposedly) thought, or would it more likely be terrorised surprise? And just how would he feel about himself? Anyway, the thing is, I do my best to consider that someone I do a translation for may not be quite right in the head in their assessment of it – no offence. All I’m saying is that judgement and forethought are everything in a lot of jobs, and translation is certainly one of them. I suppose it could be said that they are “anything” in translation. Being “clever” is just the tip of the iceberg, but then I would say that because professional translators will always be the first to be recruited to translate difficult material and I’m a professional translator. Apparitions born of one’s own mind (and indisputably nothing else; and whether they are surreal or actually somewhat realistic) simply must never be allowed to have a greater presence than appreciation (or simply consideration) of what is actually there, and what the truth actually is.

But you see, nothing – NOTHING – can pass as a substitute for one’s own mind when it comes to translation work. And if you think that everything I’ve been saying here sounds a bit absurd in its own right (certainly the donkey video bit), then maybe – just maybe – the shocking truth is that taking a risk of becoming a bit insane can actually be an essential prelude to learning, or learning how to realise, something of fundamental importance; however long it may take you to put it into your own words – this coming from someone who makes a living putting things into his own words while fully expecting it to be judged by others, and in a way which does not necessarily make sense in real terms. And if it does make sense, it’s a question of how (and when) I will actually understand the reasoning behind it. Maybe I would indeed be kidding myself if I ever suggested that I would always know what to do if listening – proper listening – weren’t enough when it came to writing a translation of something guaranteed to be passable. Whether or not I could actually acquire an ability to find out what in any given scenario, I can at least see that the status of my way of thinking is in no “official” way any “higher” than that of anyone else.

I just think it’s good that I continue to be successful in my job, and that I’m hardly ever starved of translation assignments, which are, of course, my lifeblood. Ultimately, it would seem like me taking the risk out of translation is a case of knowing what to do when confronted with a need to challenge my very mind…

Let the adventure begin / continue!