1.
Last Spring, I wrote a post about Elaine Hsieh Chou’s debut novel Disorientation—and the hilarious situation of the protagonist’s boyfriend Stephen. A Japanese language translator, he was completely self-taught and had never been to Japan. And worse, he could not speak the language.
But he really loves the culture—especially anime and sushi, and does have real success as a translator. His first major work of translation being a memoir of a former mizushobai worker, the author was a woman who had a very rough, but scintillating life. His translation of Pink Salon takes off, and the beautiful young author becomes the next “it” girl —with Stephen being the much-applauded translator.
But since he can’t actually speak Japanese, there are some wonderful scenes where he communicates with his author using an interpreter. Sound crazy, right?
2.
By now, you’ve probably heard that there was some online discussion regarding recent Nobel Prize winning author Han Kang’s English translator and her “creative” translations.
Like Japanese, Korean is one of the hardest languages in the world for English speakers to learn. It’s not really something you “pick up,” but that is apparently what Han’s translator Deborah Smith did. In three years.
If you are interested, this is a detailed and very interesting summary of what is extraordinary (good and bad) about her Korean translations of Han’s work. I was interested in a few things—first that the English translation went beyond the simple swapping of words (like “leg” for “arm”), or even of mistaken pronouns (easy to do this in Japanese too!) but rather the issue involved changing the style and tone of the language…. from the minimalist, fragmentary style of the original to Smith’s use of a high, formal style with lyrical flourishes. As one critic noted, the translation has a “nineteenth-century ring” to it, reminiscent of Chekhov.
Whoa!
2.
翻訳 honyaku= Translation
In the first character hon 翻, you can see the wings 羽 for the fluttering and turning, flipping quality that happens when you translate words from one language into another; while the second character “yaku” 訳 conveys meaning and sense.
This immediately brings to mind something Cicero (or Horace?) wrote about aiming for sense translation, rather than a word for word translation.
non verbum e verbo sed sensum de sensu
This is because languages do not divide the world up the same way. If they did, AI translation would be a done deal already.
I’ve heard a very brilliant translator tell me that he liked to read a paragraph of the original and then not refer to it again and dash out an English version—and then after checking to make sure nothing was list, polish the English to be the best it can be… Of course, there are going to be losses, as I wrote about here. Murakami, for example, will stress the musicality of the sentences over tone or voice. Or even meaning versus sound.
3.
In Japanese, people distinguish between a direct word-for-word translation 直訳 chokuyaku and the more literary “sense” translation of 意訳 iyaku. For example, when I was working on the e-Japan戦略 translation for the government, my English translations were re-translated back to Japanese in order to account for every single word. It was maddening —but it had to be done because the English version became the basis for other translations into languages like German or Swedish and they all had to match up.
This kind of legalistic translation is world’s away from the translation of literature, where for example, a poem from Japanese cannot just be the translation of the words—because you must be rendering a poem from one language into a POEM in another language.
So, in that sense, Han’s translator was doing the right thing by taking a great piece of literature from one language and turning it into great literature in another.
4.
I have only read two books by Han and am not a fan. So, I don’t really have a big opinion about this. Except that Smith’s approach reminded me of the Stephen character in Elaine Hsieh Chou’s novel, in the sense that it takes some real guts to translate literature when you only started learning the language three years before…
If you think about it, none of this matters in terms of the Nobel anyway since presumably the English translations were not all they were going by. I mean, in my eJapan papers, my English translation was used for translations into other languages. Not always as some translations were made using the original Japanese, but there were cases, which is why it had to be a legalistic kind of translation.
But presumably the Nobel committee was reading versions that were not based on Smith’s version at all.
5.
And by the way, I think someone should write a novel about Smith because she sounds pretty out there (in a good way!) …. and of course, translator’s names really do need to be on book covers…. they are collaborators when it literary AND as this article rightly points out, they are also taste makers!
Smith went on to found Tilted Axis Press in 2015, a translation-focused publishing house that has put out works such as “Tokyo Ueno Station” by Yu Miri (translated by Morgan Giles), winner of the 2020 National Book Award, and “Love in the Big City” by Sang Young Park (translated by Anton Hur), an English-language debut that was longlisted for the 2022 International Booker Prize.
Anton Hur has a debut novel out that I am really looking forward to reading. Smith sounds like a literary talent (genius) in her own right, and I would expect a novel from her one of these days.
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Flowers atop from my second ikebana lesson!!!
This reminds me of the controversy over the translation of Thomas Mann into English. Mann won the Nobel Prize in 1929, largely on the strength of his novel Buddenbrooks, which was translated by Helen Lowe-Porter. Some years ago (80s, 90s) Lowe-Porter's translations of Thomas Mann, which covered most of Mann's oeuvre and were the standard translations from the 1920s till 1970, were subjected to harsh and intensive criticism. Not only was she accused of many mistranslations due to her poor knowledge of German, she was also accused of altering Mann's complex sentence structures (which were marked by large numbers of parenthetical insertions that retarded the conclusion of the sentence) in favour of the less complex constructions supposedly preferred in English. It was a bitter, highly-charged campaign against her translations.
In the 2010s, the academic David Horton showed that translations by some of Lowe-Porter's critics also failed to capture important aspects of Mann's syntax, and that Lowe-Porter's translations should be judged on their own merits as translations for the English-speaking market. Despite their shortcomings, they established his place as a major, possibly THE major German author of the 20th century.
I have mulled over Horton's defence of Lowe-Porter, couched in the latest trends in Translation Theory, and have not found them totally convincing. In fact, later translations (and there have been a few) are all pretty much of a muchness in the way that, unlike Lowe-Porter, they stick faithfully to Mann's original. One wonders why so many translations are really necessary when, compared with the very different renderings of Lowe-Porter, they are basically just variations on a theme of direct translation. Does it really make any difference to the reader's impression if, as Horton points out, Luke's translation of the first paragraph of "Der Tod in Venedig" fails to make the protagonist of the story the subject in all three sentences? Lowe-Porter's translations, on the other hand, make considerable changes in the original syntax in a way that could definitely alter the reader's impression of Mann.
At any rate, I think there is a great risk of the translator's style being mistaken for the author's style. I am a little sceptical about the proposition that the awarding committee also had access to the Korean originals in Han Kang's case. I am sure that they received input concerning the originals (possibly very positive input from Korean-language consultants), but I'm not so sure that they could really have had any appreciation of the original Korean, aside from what they read from people who had a vested interest in pushing a Korean author to Nobel Prize-winner status.
Thank you for this most interesting and insightful article!
I am by training an (academic) linguist; I am also something of a polyglot and a translator of Japanese literature, classical and modern. Before coming to Japan long ago, I spent two years in Korea, where I was a rather diligent student of the language. My speaking and aural comprehension may be on the rusty side, but I have a rather good vocabulary, a firm grasp of Korean grammar, and a strong interest in Korean history and culture. That having been said, I should like to comment on the relative difficulty of the Korean language for English speakers.
It's all a bit “apples and oranges”...Korean is, of course, not an Indo-European language, so one is more or less starting from scratch in regard to the lexicon. Furthermore, the phonology and morphophonemics of Korean are tricky, which alone makes it arguably harder to learn than, say, Japanese, which is otherwise structurally quite similar. Another obstacle is speech level distinctions: Korean, like Japanese, has humble, polite, and honorific forms.
On the other hand, Korean is an agglutinating rather than an inflecting language. That means that one doesn't have to worry about the declension of nouns and pronouns or the complex conjugation of verbs. Korean is, like Japanese, a “pro-drop” language, so that one can simply omit words and phrases that are understood. In Italian or French, if one wants to reply to “Will you drink the water?” with “I shall drink it,” one has to know the future tense of the verb for drink and the appropriate pronominal form for water: feminine, singular. In Korean, that is not a problem: one simple says, if one is being polite: “Mashi-gess-sumnida.”
The Korean writing system is also relatively easy: one can learn the basics of hangul in an hour or two. Of course, texts written with a mixture of Chinese characters pose a challenge, but they are used only for Sino-Korean words and typically have only one reading. (Japanese is much more difficult in that regard.)
I have known Americans without much knowledge of or interest in other languages who have become quite fluent in Korean. Some may simply have had a “knack” for it, but then they also seem to have felt quite at home in Korean culture-and that is certainly a key factor. To get a firm grip on Korean, one really has to know Korea...
To be a good translator, one must have intimate knowledge of the source language and culture in which it is spoken; one must also be a knowledgeable and skillful writer of the target language. Being an able English-language wordsmith and having access Duolingo and Deep L will not be enough. At the same time, there are professors of Language X who think that their profession makes them, ipso facto, qualified to translate, even if their forte clearly lies in churning out turgid academic prose.
Having at least some familiarity with translation theory (theories) also helps, though the best understanding of such comes from and is reinforced by experience.
Literary translation is an art. Alas, such, it seems, is not widely understood.
Charles De Wolf
P.S. The source of “verbum e verbo...” is St. Jerome, the renowned translator of the Bible.