Months ago, when I first started figuring out how to sort through the plethora of books I had collected, I wrote the following about the category I later dubbed “Lost in Translation”
I wanted to fall in love with every translated book I read, I honestly did. But there were some that well, left me scratching my head a bit. A few left me frustrated trying to figure out why this particular story was ever what a publisher chose to use as an example of translated literature. It was those stories that I felt are most often held up as examples of why we don’t have more translated literature because it’s not up to American standards or quality, or that it’s just weird. (And yes, a few of these were just weird.) Some of them I found a disconnect between the pictures and the story, something just didn’t match up. (As a side note, this isn’t unique to translated picture books, on a regular basis an author of the story has little or no contact or interaction with the person tasked with illustrating the book.) A few of them may have been appropriate at the time and location they were first published but not be the best for a modern audience. A few may simply be a cultural disconnect – something that was acceptable and understandable where it originated but does not “read” the same here. I want to clearly state that I don’t think any of these books are “bad” I just think that something was lost or is missing from their original publication to their translated form.
Since then I’ve done a lot of reading and research, not just about the books, but about some of the common practices surrounding the world of translation. Some of it has proven useful. Some of it has made me really angry. Some of it has made me think, traipsing down rabbit holes right and left. Some of it has left me wondering how different the book in its source (original) language was from the copy in the target (translated to) language copy I had just read. All of it left me asking more questions; mostly surrounding “does it matter?” and then “Why or why not?”
So I thought before taking the next few posts to examine some books that for some reason or other seem to have gotten lost along the way, I’d share some of those common practices here. My hope is that it will not only prove enlightening (and in some cases, maddening) but also perhaps shed some light on those two big questions as it relates to some of these titles.
Let’s start with the obvious – translation is a tricky process. As children’s literature scholar, Maria Nikolajeva writes:
“Since words in any language are polysemantic (have several different meanings or shades of meaning), the process of translation does not simply imply substitution of one word for another – which is what some people not involved in translation occasionally believe. A translator is faced with the necessity of choosing between several meanings of a word in the source language (the language of the original text) and finding the adequate word in the target language (the language of the translated text). Further, translation implies not only conveying denotation (the literal, diction meaning of words), but also connotation that is, contextual meaning that may change from text to text.”
What Do We Do When We Translate Children's Literature?, Maria Nikolajeva, 2006
What strikes me as most important here is “the necessity of choosing.” We, as readers in the target language, have to rely on blind faith that the choices the translator made truly represent the author’s intention. They are, in many respects, writing their own version of the original story. Translation requires mastery of two languages, in denotation and connotation, which is a pretty tall order. Heck, I have problems crafting my own thoughts into words in my native language. I can’t imagine trying to fully grasp someone else’s words and the intentions behind those words in one language and then try to make them not only make sense but flow and convey that same meaning in another. This is one reason that I become so frustrated when I cannot find the name of the translator anywhere in the book. They deserve to be credited and recognized for their work. It is also a means of holding them culpable. It’s possible that some of what turns people off of translated material, or earns it a “weird” label is not the fault of the author, but rather an inadequate translation.
We’re going to spend an entire post looking at a number of titles I had flagged for this category only to discover that they were all translated by the same individual. Different authors, different types of stories, setting and characters but all the same translator. Could it be me? Absolutely! As I said in my original writing and still maintain – these are not “bad” books, they just left me scratching my head for some reason. I closed them feeling as if I had just played a game of Telephone with fifty of my closest friends and I was the last one in line knowing there was little likelihood that “your Grandma eats shorts on Mount Kilimanjaro” was the original message…
I’ve also been wondering (and I see the rabbit hole here and am casually side-stepping it) if part of the reason I have struggled to find translators, or even been flat out told by a few publishing company’s when I’ve written to try to get a specific name that they “use in-house translators,” is because of the genre of translated lit I’m looking at. Are picture books getting a bum rap? Is it because there are so few words that publishers do not feel the need to credit the translator? Or does it have something to do with not wanting to clearly label a book as a translation as that already places a certain stigma on it for some readers?
Without diving too deeply into the rhetoric, there are two (extremely different) approaches to translating literature, specifically as it relates to children’s literature; equivalence which is considered a “faithful” translation with no liberties taken and dialogical which mostly means that the target audience is taken into consideration. Nikolajeva suggests equivalence seeks to ask “What?” while dialogical focuses on “For whom?” Similar to my feelings on the debate over polygenesis vs. monogenesis, I am not going to cross swords with the more learned scholars about what is “right.” Honestly, I’m still learning and don’t feel qualified enough to firmly settle in one camp, though I do have some gut feelings about the matter. I simply offer it up here as what truly goes into taking a text from one language to another.
There are then a number of “tweaks” that sometimes happen…
One is adaptation, where “a text is adjusted to what the translator believes to be the needs of the target audience, and it can include deletions, additions, explanation, purification, simplification, modernization and a number of other interventions.” Texts are also sometimes “purified,” or altered for political, cultural or religious reasons. Simplification also occurs. For example, if a specific type of food from the source language is noted it is simply referred to as “the food” in the target language. Text can also be reworded if a translator feels a joke or a pun will not be understood in a target language. Modernization is also common, including removal of references that could be perceived as offensive. Settings that are deemed “unfamiliar” are sometimes changed through localization. Domestication occurs when a reference to something specific from the source culture, such as a piece of music or art, is exchanged for something that is deemed equivalent in the target language. (Another common example of this is currency being changed to dollars.) It’s opposite, foreignization occurs when certain words are left in the source language to maintain the “foreignness” of the text. I mentioned previously when we were talking about Where’s Waldo? that names are also often changed. There are more, and I could easily give specific examples of each, but…
My literature-loving heart aches at the thought of all these practices, and I would personally contend that they are a form of censorship. Without pontificating on why I feel it’s so wrong, though, perhaps the better question is why are any of these practices, as it relates to literature for children, deemed necessary in the first place?
Basically, it all goes back to those darn adults! Well-intentioned (at least I’m sure they think they’re well-intentioned) gatekeepers contend that children just won’t understand. In her 1978 article, “How Emil becomes Michel : on the translation of children's books” Swedish linguist Birgit Stolt contends that this stems from a lack of respect for children, children’s books and their authors, and it is a “result of the preconceived opinion of adults about what children want to read, value and understand, in other words, an underestimation of the child reader.”
Not only does it show a lack of respect for the choice and ability of a reader, it’s detrimental. But is there more at play? In a 2002 essay by Akiko Yamazaki, she discusses these deliberate changes being categorized as “cultural context adaptation.” She notes that these practices “reflect intercultural power balances. Translated texts not only reveal what kind of relationship the target culture has with the source culture but also affect that relationship by presenting a certain image of the source culture.” Her article specifically analyzes names being changed in texts, based on arguments that they can be ‘distracting or confusing’ for a child reader or that the reader must know about that culture in order to accept it. She (as many others) contends that these are impressions formed by those gatekeepers, not children readers themselves. How or why would they think that way unless it was suggested to them?
Much of this goes back to a lot of what we discussed with the controversy category. Kids are so much smarter than we (and yes, this is a collective we, I cannot exclude myself) give them credit for. If they read something they don’t understand, they’ll ask! Why take that away from them without giving them that opportunity?
I’m feeling the call of my soapbox, so before I give in to that temptation, let me offer up a bigger picture relevance. Could it be that some of these practices, along with the abilities of the translator, could play at least a small part in the reason that translated literature is often labeled as “weird, strange, and different.” Is it possible, after jumping through all the hoops from source to target, that the way it’s been altered no longer is a true representation of the original? Are we truly getting an opportunity to experience another culture through a translated text if it’s been changed in these ways, even in such subtleties as word choice?
These are some of the questions that I’ve been pondering this entire semester. I don’t have any solid answers for them. In fact, I’d venture to guess that there is no one correct answer to any of them, but they are all worth considering every time we evaluate a translated text. It’s not beneficial to slap a “weird” label on the entire genre without a better understanding of some of what it takes to get any of these stories from Point A to Point B. Similar to my metaphor of a game of telephone, I’d venture to guess that while we receive a message, it may not always be THE message. That does not take away from the experience that reading across languages offers, but it is worth factoring into the equation before passing judgment.
Speaking of passing judgment, let me say one more time before we dive any more deeply into this category – I do not think any of these books are “bad.” The questions I have about them are formed from my own personal reading experience. I respect (and encourage!) other opinions and thoughts, perhaps even to point out errors in my own notions about them. Keeping in mind some of the ideas I have pointed out in this post may also serve to help clarify what seems to have gotten “lost” along the way.
Thanks for traipsing through this rather wordy and often discouraging closer look at some of what goes on behind the scenes during translation. We’ll be back to books on Tuesday! I’ll be back with a few titles I struggled with the authenticity of and a look at a book of poetry and some of the questions surrounding translating poems. Don’t get ‘lost’ along the way, I’ll see you then!
(Kristi’s “giving credit where credit it due” note: During the semester I have read a number of books and articles on the items I’ve referenced above. I’ve already credited the work of Nikolajeva, Stolt, and Yamazaki, but would additionally like to mention Gillian Lathey’s, Translating Children’s Literature (2016) and Global Perspectives in Children’s Literature by Evelyn B. Freeman and Barbara A. Lehman (2000), for ideas expressed in this post.)
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