The language of assurance

WHY I CLAIM TO SPEAK THE LANGUAGE OF ASSURANCE

Foreword: I remember how, in my last big blog, I talked about how I was “self-assured” in my job. But looking back, that’s just not enough…

You know, part of being self-employed is wanting to be taken seriously for what you do (although it depends largely on your aspirations and ambitions, I guess). How? You tell me. I didn’t specifically know what to do or where to explore from the start either. No-one told me, but then I couldn’t have expected it, could I? Of course, I’m hardly reluctant to make it clear why I want to be taken seriously for what I do, or how I can I expect to achieve this – you’ve only got to look at my blog record, which, by the way, now has way more than 130,000 words in it, and that’s not including the short ones that I pay my marketing team to put up. But I put them up for a purpose, and a big part of that is assurance in some way, shape or form… hence the language of assurance.

In a sense, “speaking a language” can and does amount to knowing “tricks of the trade”. And translation work certainly requires being able to “speak the language” well, so to speak. People who are good at what they do will surely delight in their skill at exploiting “tricks of the trade” – some of which could only be appreciated by outsiders if they were sharp, switched-on or cynical enough. Indeed, sometimes the question of the legitimacy of some of them can prove a controversial matter. The so-called gift of the silver tongue is by no means a million miles away from being competent in the so-called language of, say, hope. Or – since I’m feeling really bold right now – seduction. As a professional translator I place a particularly high priority / emphasis on being acquainted with the language of articulate expression, if it ever existed. But of course, in reality, being self-employed, I realise how occupied I am about speaking the language of assurance. I mean, even today, for all my talent and diligence, sometimes people whom I’ve done work for feel the need to get back to me to point out things i.e. things I have written that… bother them. Because it has failed to assure them in some way. And that makes me sad. It is capable of leaving me annoyed and concerned (and, in the worst scenarios, irate), of course, but sad all the same. Even though I’ve argued that translation is both a science and an art, I really don’t see how it’s possible to do anything to just make translation easier – the practice of translation is what it is, and won’t have changed much if at all over thousands of years (although, of course, details of the actual practices used may be shaped by the actual content of the language translated from and the structures and vocabulary of the language translated into) – and I would say that there can’t be many occupations which require a person to “get with communication content” “in the right way” where this should be emphasised as much as it should be to professional translators like myself. This applies to both direct communication and indirect communication, including the realm of how it could end up confusing as if it were tacitly intended as such, such as devices like irony and double entendres, if that makes sense. Maybe the easiest way to define it as is all things that one is / can be mindful of when it comes to language. But the thing is, I do care for assuring those I do work for that they are free / have every right to put their disputes with my work in their own words (as if I needed any more reminding that I should be prepared to “get with communication content” “in the right way” if I should be taken seriously as a professional translator). Speaking as someone who’s self-employed, it’s just basic sincere cooperation. And “high thoughts must have high language” (Aristophanes).

Consider this part of a translator registration form for a translation agency whose name I have concealed [refer to image]. The bit I have circled didn’t seem like a good idea as something to include when you consider what that suggests about them! I mean, don’t we all agree that, however good machine translation tools may get, there’s just no substitute for human translators? Meanwhile, interprelate.com says, “There’s no such thing as foreign”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Basically, I’m confident that what I have written here suggests that I really am as good a professional translator as I claim to be – and I’m going for gold here. All with the help of the language of assurance, of course. Since I went self-employed I have noticed a surge in how willing I am to stand out for certain things about me, but strictly on an in itself basis and not vis-à-vis others. It seems sensible to suggest that you can tell more about yourself than anyone else, but it pays to ask: on what basis can you tell the most about someone else? Myself, I think it’s what they think people are not as smart as they think they are, and people who are smarter than they realise, would agree about them. What do you think?

When I was young, I used to love the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (the old cartoon series), and on Wikipedia you can get fairly lengthy character descriptions for all the main characters which just make perfect sense – I just never would have put their character descriptions in such terms back then, for the simple reason that I couldn’t. Being able to put it in such terms would have just plain eluded me back then; I didn’t have that kind of kind of vocabulary / command of language back then. But would the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles be the same if not for, say, the “bad boy” demeanour of Raphael or the comic relief provided by Michaelangelo? If I wrote my own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles story, would the characters in it necessarily strictly be the same as those in the cartoon series I know, or is it more likely that I would be guilty of hijacking their image rights? I’m guessing that we all have things that we don’t remember as well as we wish we did, but for me the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is very much not such a thing (well, these characters were created by adults, before you start ridiculing me). But, hopefully this can be understood as a parallel of my own actual commitment to proper representation of messages and understanding thereof when I do translation work.

I’ve said it already, but I’ll say it again: I am a translator. And as a translator – an enthusiastic one – I’m basically fond of describing and verbally accounting for things in general without comprehension of it hinging on “knowledge” of what related stuff seems to be (which would effectively negate the language of assurance); and I would say that the language of assurance and my own competence in it is always good for backing claims that I’m very articulate and all that. And who’s going to dispute that a high level of articulateness is essential for being a good translator? And I’m not afraid to state that people proofread my translation work all the time – certainly all or most of the numerous translation agencies I have done work for – and that doesn’t surprise me at all. In fact, good for them, for being responsible. For people who read something they know to be a translation, are always keen to read the language of assurance bits of it (subconsciously). Surely the language of assurance ALWAYS promotes confidence.

While we’re on that subject: time for some work-related anecdotes from my work as a professional translator, which should help to paint a picture of me as a professional translator (just as I have done in previous blog comments):

In one recent French-to-English job I translated “pas de pile ni de batterie” as “no battery of any kind” – I was proud of myself for coming up with that apt solution.

I also translated French “L’utilisation d’une base de données permet à plusieurs utilisateurs de facilement consulter les données simultanément” as “Use of the database allows many users to consult data easily, simultaneously” in English. Is it OK to split infinitives here i.e. would “to easily and simultaneously consult data” have been better?

And is French “Vérifier qu’aucun défaut n’est signalé” really the same as “Check that no fault notification appears” in English?

When I saw “Brandverhalten” in a German technical contract I was translating recently, my first thought was “DON’T translate this literally i.e. ‘fire behaviour’ ”, so I decided on “fire safety conduct”, which is a sound suggestion, right? But then – like, almost straight away afterwards – I imagined a proofreader changing this to “fire procedures”, which struck me as even better, so I went with that instead.

Unusual expressions can still be easily remembered (probably for their apparent sentimental value more than anything else). But the language of assurance is a cut above the language of logic – the latter being language which only does its job in logical terms.

But there are two more things I want to bring up here which suggest concepts that are worth bearing in mind when you do translation. I include them because I think it will ASSURE you of things in general as far as understanding of doing translation, what I do, properly is concerned.

Number one: if I did a translation, how different would it be if I did it again (presumably with some sort of differing result) vs. if somebody else did it?

Number two: have you ever heard people say “it’s obvious” and all you can think is “how?” In Lord of War, the Nicolas Cage film, there’s a bit where Yuri’s dad asks him “Is this how you want to be remembered?” even though we all know, as does he, that he doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about by the word “this” in that sentence. But he’s suspicious, for the right reasons, when he says to Yuri, “I don’t think you’re going there to sell Pepsi Cola”. But anyone’s who’s watched the film certainly knows why: the reason Yuri’s so rich is that he’s an arms dealer, and how willing is he going to be to be open about something like that!? It’s the same in the Kingsman Secret Service film, where Galahad says to Eggsy that he’s humiliated him by stealing his boss’ car. Of course Galahad had nothing to with it, but it’s a matter of having enough wits about you to remember that it was Galahad who chose Eggsy in the first place.

Basically, the language of assurance has cultural value which shouldn’t be underestimated. In translation, knowing it is, in my opinion, a far greater badge of honour than writing something possibly awkward-sounding however well it reflects the content of the original and “in the right way.” Of course, there’s no language of assurance to be found in, say, the French version of “I should of” (“Je de dû”, which I invented), but I just want to reiterate that people in my position are supposed to be the first to be able to translate things with ALL the relevant and proper points and hints implied.