I was interviewed for the RTE Radio One programme The Arts Show by Vincent Woods on Tuesday, the 17th June, 2008, to talk about the republication by the Royal Irish Academy of Verne's lesser-known Irish-themed and Dickensian-inspired novel P'tit Bonhomme, the translated title being republished variously as Foundling Mick; A lad of grit, and The extraordinary adventures of Foundling Mick, the latter being the title given to this existing, 1896 anonymous, abridged translation by the Royal Irish Academy for their 2008 republication of this novel. (I had written an article entitled Translating Foundling Mick for this republication, and spoke about the novel's themes, Verne's Irish and Dickensian connections, the quality of the translation, the place of the novel within Verne's overall body of work, etc., in the course of this interview).
The interview can be heard at www.rte.ie/pod-v-170608-14m49s-artshow-jverne.mp3 .
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Reflective journal on the doctoral research process
Here are a few extracts from a journal I was keeping throughout the last couple of years, charting my progress and feelings throughout the PhD process. PhD students are often advised - as my colleagues and I were at a course on managing the PhD process - to keep a research journal.
Like this blog, I strove to keep my research journal professionally-based, but as doing a PhD is inevitably such a personal, emotional experience, I suggest that it is impossible to ever completely separate the professional from the personal. Because the professional choices we make over the course of our lives - say, to take a career break, to make a significant mid-life career change from the public service to academia, to stay on in full-time education in order to do research, to brave the uncertainty of what the future holds for a newly qualified Humanities doctoral candidate and to remain courageous and hopeful in continuing to research, write, translate, seek academic employment and be patient and trusting that things will indeed work out as they 'are meant to' - are an integral part of who we are as human beings.
Perhaps PhD candidates will particularly identify with this. We have delayed the gratification of earning, in order to pursue the researcher's quest for new knowledge, new understanding, of some aspect of reality that we truly love. We have done this, in the hope that the completed PhD will open new doors to continued research, writing, teaching, translating... The subject is us, and we are the subject. So in this following, first extract from a journal in which the student and the person are inextricably intertwined, feelings are described alongside the excitement of discovery, of new ideas, of progress towards the PhD... I have divided these entries up into separate 'articles' with separate headings, as you may not feel like reading all of this long posting in one session.
THOUGHTS ON THE CETRA DOCTORAL RESEARCH
SUMMER SCHOOL IN TRANSLATION AND
INTERPRETING STUDIES, LEUVEN, AUGUST 2008:
'It is now the 3rd September, 2008, and I am once again attempting to reprise the writing up of my academic research journal, after yet another absence of a couple of months. I have just returned from the CETRA doctoral research summer school on literary translation, held at the Catholic University of Leuven over the last two weeks of August, 2008. I picked up useful contacts with fellow researchers across Europe, and fellow academics. My presentation of my PhD research was favourably received – very favourably, in fact – and Dirk Delabastita felt I was ready to defend my thesis. I was encouraged by Andrew Chesterman to publish some of my findings after completion of the thesis, e.g. to consider publishing the entire thesis as a monograph; and/or write articles for, say, Target, on ‘Causes post-Brownlie’; he liked my further development of the model of causes, and thus liked the new causal concepts and categories I have introduced such as primary and secondary causes, marked and unmarked, positively and negatively valenced, initial and subsequent plus ultimate, active versus dormant, etc. This would, he felt, make a good topic for an article. He also liked my original interpretive metaphors of the translator as Tuvix, and as the executor/executrix of an estate.
SURPRISING DISCOVERIES MADE IN MY PHD
RESEARCH
Professor Andrew Chesterman, in Leuven, suggested that I try to state, in the Conclusion to the doctoral thesis, the findings which surprised me. I am therefore currently continually trying to reflect on what aspects of my findings did really surprise me.
In what follows, the abbreviations stand for the following terms:
ST: source text
TT: target text
SL: source language
TL: target language
TM: Le Tour du Monde en Quatre-Vingts Jours
ATWED: Around the World in Eighty Days
I suppose it was surprising to discover that early TTs of TM e.g. U.S. translations and Malleson in the U.K., were so accurate, and that Malleson is unlikely to have translated TM. Malleson surprised me, and other Verne scholars, by being such an accurate, diligent, thorough researcher, annotator and translator of A Journey into the Interior of the Earth in about 1877. I was thus surprised that Toury’s norm model, useful though it is, does indeed suggest passive translators working within static systems of norms, whereas the empirical reality actually points to the translator as perhaps the single most important, active cause in TT outcomes. Her ‘habitus’ is a crucial explanans. The efficient cause of the individual translator’s personal and professional experience, motivations and personal writing style, is perhaps the primary or dominant cause of translation outcomes and of TT overall form/ it is the translator who ultimately seems to determine the strategy to follow, including which norms to adhere to.
I was surprised to discover that translation is so complex and entropic, and that Toury’s categories of ‘adequacy’ etc. are deceptively static; actual TTs are the site of a surprising degree of ‘messiness’, inconsistency and entropy. I was surprised that I ended up unearthing so much information about White, thanks to Wolcott, who also surprised himself with his discoveries, on the Internet, of previously unknown details on White (Wolcott being an expert on Victorian translators of Verne). I was surprised that the 1895 rendering of Foundling Mick was so accurate; despite some embellishment, omission and slight semantic alteration, it was a very cohesive text. I was surprised that almost all of the TTs of TM were so different, and thus, that the individual translator’s style can vary so much from that of other translators, and that the translator does indeed enjoy limitless possibilities in choosing TT solutions. There are a multitude of strategies and individual problem solutions.
I was equally surprised to learn that there does not appear to be any one single canonical TT of TM, and that, rather, all TTs of TM can legitimately stake their place in the chain of retranslations, as valuable works of literature in their own right. Thus, I was surprised but gratified that the Retranslation Hypothesis (RH) can be shown to be overly simplistic. I was surprised at the complexity, non-determinism, non-linearity and resulting unpredictability of the likely forms of TTs and within TTs. I was surprised that the Glencross (2004) rendering of TM was so informal and modern in style, and yet that he had his otherwise semantically accurate TT accepted for publication. I was surprised to note that he appears to vary his TL style depending on the ST author and nature of the project.
I was surprised at the vastly differing, contrasting reasons for decisions to retranslate TM; these are not uniquely ‘passive’ translations, i.e. aimed at updating the language only, but rather, ‘active’ translations, for the most part, taken on for specific reasons, e.g. to tie in with a film version and to place one’s own personal stylistic inscription of difference and uniqueness on a retranslation of an established, classic, canonical TT (Glencross), to provide Verne scholarship (Butcher), to rehabilitate Verne (Baldick), and so on. There may, on the other hand, be some element of language updating amongst the multiple motivations for retranslation, e.g. Desages, Baldick.
The Desages rendering of 1926 – I have just found out today, the 28th May, 2009 through the good offices of Norm Wolcott – was commissioned by a Verne appreciation society called the Verne Confederacy, founded in 1921 at Dartmouth Naval College in the U.K. Thus, Desages had a particular motivation – a commission, which presumably instructed him to produce an accurate rendering.
I was also surprised at the different reasons for adaptation and the different forms it can take. People have looked at translations of children’s literature in some detail, but I have shown some originality – according to my supervisor – in researching translations of literature not originally aimed at children, but now translated and adapted for them. I was surprised at the fact that, in the case of adaptations, the final cause of the ‘skopos’ seems to become the primary cause of the TT form, whereas for complete, unabridged TTs, it is the efficient cause which is likely to be the dominant one.'
PROGRESS MADE IN PHD RESEARCH/WRITING:
Here are some further extracts from my Research Journal; again, entries which are not excessively personal and thus, I feel, have a useful place in a blog on the Translation Studies research experience:
'I had a supervision meeting with Michael Cronin this morning, 3rd September, 2008, at the National Library in Kildare Street, and it went well; mainly stylistic changes e.g. reducing sentence length, omitting parentheses, etc. He will try to get Chesterman for the viva, next summer, and thinks I may be ready to submit in April or May, 2009, for a November 2009 graduation. He said I was a ‘very good student’ whom it was easy to supervise. So all is going well, apart from my painful arm! PS It would be a great privilege to have somebody like Chesterman, Brownlie, Delabastita et al as external examiners at my oral defence of the doctoral thesis. I’m currently feeling quite excited and gratified that Chesterman is being approached as a viva examiner for me.
I am now about to write a Conclusion and to meet Michael on 20th October. In the meantime, I plan to prepare two DCU presentations: a SALIS research seminar/presentation on ‘Introducing Classic Literature to Special Reader Groups’ and a Comp. Lit. seminar on literary translation, its possibilities and pitfalls. I am tired, mentally, after Leuven, and have not taken a proper break all summer, so with Michael’s approval, I will now try to relax for a little bit. I need to convince myself that progress is very satisfactory and that I’m doing a good job on the PhD and on my future academic career, e.g. possibilities for publication, etc. 2008 has been a productive year in terms of PhD progress and in terms of ancillary activities, i.e. conferences, publications, summer school, networking, etc.
Since writing this, it is now Tuesday, 16th September, 2008, and in the last week, I have completed the two PowerPoint presentations, i.e. one on ‘Reading literature in translation: pitfalls and possibilities’, for the seminar to the M.A. in Comparative Literature, and the other on ‘Introducing classic literature to special groups of readers: studying adapted versions of Verne’s ATWED’, for the SALIS Research Seminar. So progress in the last couple of weeks, since I returned from Leuven, has been steady. I today photocopied and studied Chapelle’s Conclusions to her 2001 PhD thesis, in order to get some inspiration for my own Conclusions. I am now about to print off my conclusions to individual chapters, and will begin to write my PhD Concluding Chapter in the next few days, once Chapelle and my chapter conclusions have been studied.
It’s now 26th September, 2008, at 8.15 pm. Just before I switch
off my computer here in the postgrad Humanities room to go
off to the shops and to my apartment, I felt like logging on again
to my Journal of research progress, to note what I’ve achieved
in the last few days. I made significant inroads yesterday into
writing quite a bit of my Conclusion. That felt good, as I was
feeling somewhat guilty that I was spending a lot of time
thinking about the Conclusion and reading in preparation for it,
but was procrastinating on actually starting to write it. Writer’s
block/paralysis seemed to rear its ugly head once again. So I got a lot written yesterday. Today, I spent a lot of time
handwriting a rough work version of the remaining points
which need to be put into my Conclusion, e.g. limitations,
possibilities for future research suggested by my own research
project and findings, benefits of my research to various
potential audiences such as translators, Verne scholars,
descriptivists, comparatists, and so on, positive, original findings, etc.
So I should finish my Conclusion this weekend and get it off to
my supervisor.
Another thing I got done this week ending 26th September,
2008, is that I submitted a reading list to Brigitte Le Juez for
my lecture in Comp Lit and got a provisional date for that
lecture.
I also submitted a proposal for a paper to be given at DCU in
late November, if accepted, at the first postgraduate
symposium of the newly formed Comp Lit Assoc of Ireland.
The paper will be somewhat related to my Comp Lit lecture in
that it proposes to deal with the advantages and disadvantages
of reading literature in translation, with examples from Verne.
Fingers crossed it might be accepted …
(Later addendum: It was accepted!)
And finally, I need to remember to remain positive and
optimistic about the academic future, because:
There are plenty of jobs out there, if not in Ireland, in U.K., U.S.
There are plenty of jobs out there, if not in Ireland, in U.K., U.S.
and French academia.'
Here's a more philosophical entry:
THE IMPORTANCE OF REFLECTING ON IDEAS
'Research is not all about constant writing, reading and note-taking: when you read, and write, you must continuously meditate on the ideas of the existing Translation theorists whose ideas are being presented to you; you must actively engage with these ideas, by writing down your own reactions to them, and have the confidence to be always in a critical mode. Much of what I’ve been reading for theoretical background to my PhD research, I am inspired by, and find the ideas to be valid, and supported by my own findings. Other ideas I tend to question, and if in doubt, I discuss with others: I have an e-mail relationship with some prominent Translation theoreticians and Verne savants and translators, and I run ideas and questions by them. What they tell me is always informative, often reassuring.
So reflection is perhaps the core, essential, fundamental activity of the person who is working towards the degree of Doctor of Philosophy – it’s what the philosopher does, after all, she thinks, as in Rodin’s celebrated sculpture ‘Le Penseur’, or Descartes’ famous observation ‘Je pense, donc je suis’.
One of the comments made by the external examiner of my PhD was to ensure to be critical of existing Translation Studies theorists where necessary, rather than mainly citing and discussing those theorists and writings which agree with and provide backing for my own ideas and findings.
One thing that I would respectfully disagree with, at my viva, was the examiners' opinion that the chapter of my thesis on the 1879 anonymous translation of ATWED/TM should not be included. My claim is that this is an important target text to discuss in any translation history of Verne's work and of this particular novel, TM, given the flagrant inaccuracy with which this rendering is rife. This degree of inaccuracy helps to illustrate the extent to which Verne's literature was poorly translated in the Victorian era United Kingdom, in contrast with later, more accurate renderings. This progression from less accurate to higher quality renderings into English of Verne's work, over the last 130 years, illustrates the growing stature of Verne's literature in Anglophone literary polysystems. This progression was an important aspect of my argument in my PhD thesis.
One thing that I would respectfully disagree with, at my viva, was the examiners' opinion that the chapter of my thesis on the 1879 anonymous translation of ATWED/TM should not be included. My claim is that this is an important target text to discuss in any translation history of Verne's work and of this particular novel, TM, given the flagrant inaccuracy with which this rendering is rife. This degree of inaccuracy helps to illustrate the extent to which Verne's literature was poorly translated in the Victorian era United Kingdom, in contrast with later, more accurate renderings. This progression from less accurate to higher quality renderings into English of Verne's work, over the last 130 years, illustrates the growing stature of Verne's literature in Anglophone literary polysystems. This progression was an important aspect of my argument in my PhD thesis.
Similarly, I don't agree with the assertion that a TT whose translator cannot be identified, had no place in my thesis. Here, I would counter-argue that, though one of my research objectives was indeed to discuss the individual translators at length, where possible, and thus describe the importance of the translator's background as the efficient cause of the translation form, this did not mean that I should automatically exclude anonymous renderings from my analysis. Such renderings can still be discussed from the viewpoint of the other causes besides the 'causa efficiens', e.g. what norms of translation are in evidence? What is the causal influence of the 'causa materialis' and of surrounding socio-cultural conditions, on the form of an anonymous translation?
Neither did I agree with the examiners that abridged translations, including abridgements which appeared very close to the date of publication of some of the complete renderings I studied, and abridged versions for which there was no information available on the translator/adapter, other than their name, should be excluded from my analysis. Adaptation and translating for children are two exciting areas of Translation Studies, in which more work is welcome.
On the other hand, I can accept fully that certain chapters needed to be omitted from my thesis, in order to help reduce the word count. So there are pros and cons to every statement/opinion.
QUALITATIVE VERSUS QUANTITATIVE RESEARCH: IS THE VERSUS PART AN APPROPRIATE TERM?
One of the most frequently-recurring debates I have had with myself, and others, since I began my postgraduate studies, at both M.A. and PhD level, is that of the divide – often antagonistic, regretfully – between qualitative and quantitative research methodologies. I’ve been told by quantitative Translation scholars – notably one former DCU colleague, when she read my M.A. dissertation on the French renderings of the Harry Potter novels – that translation research of this nature is not valid unless it considers the entire ST and TT. But that’s fine if you are using corpus tools to investigate a particular aspect of language. I’ve been somewhat reassured by the DTS and causation scholars in my own field, that qualitative methods are what they use, and my own supervisor, plus Dr Darach Turley of DCU, have been equally reassuring about the merits and validity of the qualitative approach.
In sum, quantitative research tells you a little about a lot, whereas qualitative research tries to tell a lot about smaller samples of data, and thus tries to give, in a nutshell, I would say, a more profound and complete, rounded picture of all the aspects that influence – in my case – translation outcomes. If I was making a documentary, or some sort of reality TV show, I would be drawn towards focussing on a small group of individuals, and finding out, in great detail, what makes them tick, what’s the full picture of what makes these people who they are and act as they do.
So I feel that, as individual researchers and human beings, we have an inbuilt penchant either towards a (primarily) qualitative or quantitative style of enquiry, and it is that inclination that then leads us in one research direction rather than another: the favoured methodology and hermeneutics, your personally preferred epistemologies and ontologies, should dictate the topic and research questions and methods of investigation, not the other way round. If you commit three to four years of your life – or perhaps a lifetime – to research, it’s quite important that you choose a research question and a method of enquiry that are in tune with the type of enquiring mind that you have. For me, that means being a qualitative researcher. And I’ve been greatly helped in realizing the value of qualitative methods, by the textbooks I’ve read, particularly Phillips and Pugh, and the lectures here in DCU on qualitative research by Dr Darach Turley, as well as the feedback from Translation theorists such as Chesterman, Bassnett, Hermans, Brownlie and of course, Cronin (Michael), my own supervisor.
This, of course, is not meant to imply that one should not or cannot dabble profitably in both types of research, e.g. with my own research into retranslations of Verne, I would say that a post-doctoral activity might be to apply some corpus tools to examining features of my corpus of TM such as word counts, average sentence lengths, and lexical variation, among other features. This type of statistical information would, in turn, yield useful insights into the precise, quantified nature of such outcomes as standardization/normalization, lexical originality, abridgment for special audiences, language shift for special readerships, and so on. '
MORE THOUGHTS ON THOUGHT
Here is an entry from early 2008, in which I speak about the course I attended here in DCU on managing the PhD process:
'What Dr Finian Buckley did last week was interesting, in that he got us to brainstorm a list of concepts that come to mind when we think about ‘reflection’. “Meditation”, I volunteered, and he wrote it up, followed by other students’ suggestions such as ‘time out’, ‘feedback’, ‘evaluation’, ‘introspection’ and so on. I’m currently looking at my old friend, Roget’s thesaurus, and I see lots of other synonyms such as ‘cogitate’, ‘ruminate’, ‘speculate’ and ‘philosophize’, all of which I like. As a linguist and a translator, I admit I find synonyms useful, and Roget is regularly a great help to me when I’m writing, and need a different way of describing a concept for which I’ve overused another word. We were then asked to write a short reflection on our journey to DCU that morning/afternoon. We were stopped in doing this after a few minutes, as the important thing was that we had been induced to meditate on that trip which would otherwise have quickly been forgotten, perhaps. And what came out of it when students spoke about their own trips that day, was the emotions engendered when we began to reflect.
For some, it was a normal, relaxing experience, with people arriving well on time. For others, it was a stressful journey of several hours, with traffic jams contributing to late arrivals and attendant stress. For myself, I thought about the fact that I live on campus, so that my ‘commute’, if it can even be referred to as such, to DCU (I’m already here when I wake up!) is, on the face of it, easy-peasy. I’m spoiled, in comparison to colleagues who must travel a distance.
This morning, 3rd September, 2008, I had to commute from DCU into the city centre, by taxi, to meet my supervisor at the National Library. I allowed plenty of time to get there, but the journey still had an element of stress attached to it. Why? Because the traffic was heavy in parts of the city, the journey seemed to be taking forever and I hoped I would get there on time. Which I did. Twenty minutes early. The next bit of stress was finding the entrance to the Library. I have a poor sense of direction. I felt annoyed with myself and stressed over ‘small stuff’. But I got there, and the meeting went well. So I feel good about the day so far, and energized for the rest of the day. Just as I feel energized whenever I am giving, or have just given, a presentation. Adrenaline rushes must play a part in this buzz.
There is a sense of achievement, of accomplishment of a long-planned goal, of a job well-done, of merit publicly displayed and appreciated, of another notch on the bedpost of building academic careers and lecturing experience.
THE LIFE/WORK CONTINUUM: NO MARKED DIVIDE BETWEEN WORK AND PERSONAL LIFE, RATHER, A COHERENT FLOW
I don’t at all work less than others around me, I merely work differently. Different hours, which reflect the insomniac night owl that I am. But the volume and quality of my thinking and writing is comparable to others, and is serving me well. Even when I read texts in French or English not directly related to my research, they are all, indirectly, giving me food for thought, and helping my studies, if only indirectly. I read a novel, be it in English or French, and reflect on what translation issues might arise at micro level; I read a translated text, in either language, and reflect on the nature of the translation. For instance, a John Grisham novel translated into French (I’m currently reading a French TT of a Grisham bestseller) leads me to hypothesize that the translation strategy is primarily an acceptable or domesticating one, e.g. French equivalents for American legal terminology, idiomatic language usage. On the other hand, the TT shows, also, elements of source-language orientedness, e.g. names of people and of places are transferred, as are organizational names for the most part (thus, proper nouns); many phrases used in the TL French appear to be source-language-influenced, i.e. literal, calqued, less than idiomatic, and perhaps working insidiously to introduce new language forms, gradually, into the TL. Norms of accuracy and completeness are also evident; the translation is overtly presented as such. The title is changed creatively. Language and the length of sentences seem to be standardized, normalized, neutralized, as compared to non-translational French texts such as the van Cauwelart novel I’m also currently reading. Similarly, if I read other texts, I’m always thinking of language registers and manifold translation issues, so in a sense I’m constantly reflecting fruitfully on philosophical concerns relevant to my research. (cf. Phillips and Pugh, who recommend that a doctoral candidate needs to live and breathe their research topic and be intimately familiar with it).
I don’t at all work less than others around me, I merely work differently. Different hours, which reflect the insomniac night owl that I am. But the volume and quality of my thinking and writing is comparable to others, and is serving me well. Even when I read texts in French or English not directly related to my research, they are all, indirectly, giving me food for thought, and helping my studies, if only indirectly. I read a novel, be it in English or French, and reflect on what translation issues might arise at micro level; I read a translated text, in either language, and reflect on the nature of the translation. For instance, a John Grisham novel translated into French (I’m currently reading a French TT of a Grisham bestseller) leads me to hypothesize that the translation strategy is primarily an acceptable or domesticating one, e.g. French equivalents for American legal terminology, idiomatic language usage. On the other hand, the TT shows, also, elements of source-language orientedness, e.g. names of people and of places are transferred, as are organizational names for the most part (thus, proper nouns); many phrases used in the TL French appear to be source-language-influenced, i.e. literal, calqued, less than idiomatic, and perhaps working insidiously to introduce new language forms, gradually, into the TL. Norms of accuracy and completeness are also evident; the translation is overtly presented as such. The title is changed creatively. Language and the length of sentences seem to be standardized, normalized, neutralized, as compared to non-translational French texts such as the van Cauwelart novel I’m also currently reading. Similarly, if I read other texts, I’m always thinking of language registers and manifold translation issues, so in a sense I’m constantly reflecting fruitfully on philosophical concerns relevant to my research. (cf. Phillips and Pugh, who recommend that a doctoral candidate needs to live and breathe their research topic and be intimately familiar with it).
Today – the 28th May, 2009, I finished reading the French translation of one of the Sally Lockhart novels by Pullman. Again, I enjoyed reflecting on the characteristics of this TT. It had several parallels with the Grisham TT. It was couched in idiomatic language; it was complete, unabridged and highly accurate; the names of SC characters and London place names were, however, unchanged. Thus, like the French renderings of Grisham, Rowling and Snicket, this Pullman rendering is a hybrid of SL- and TL-oriented approaches.'
And here is a final, philosophical reflection from my Research Journal:
OUR POSTMODERN LIVES: WHAT IS REALITY?
'Today, at our PhD research seminar on managing the research process, we studied two texts, in both of which a narrator (possibly female, from the context) describes and reflects on an incident she witnessed in which a ten-year-old boy seemed to be unwell, and she did not deem it necessary to become involved in helping him, and later feels deep remorse and tries to analyse her motivations). These texts were examples of reflecting in action. The second text was more reflective than the first, and for me, it exemplified the condition of post-modern doubt and uncertainty, in which the world around us becomes a worrying and enigmatic, problematic space, and in which the biggest mystery we face may be ourselves. Who am I? Am I a good or a bad person? Why did I do x, y or z? Why did I not do a, b or c? In the second text, there were questions and debates, much angst, and no answers. Yet we need to try to find provisional answers, I think, as researchers and as human beings. In addition, the second text in particular involved the narrator recalling and replaying in her mind, the events of the previous day, and seeing them from a much different perspective, with the benefit of hindsight and additional knowledge (i.e. the knowledge that the young boy has been taken seriously ill, and that the papers are critical of passers-by who did nothing to help him in his distress).
This recalls a second tenet of post-modernism: there may be no single, objective ‘reality’ ‘out there’, but the world is instead contingent on individual perception of it. And even the perception of one individual, like this narrator, is not absolute and fixed – rather, it is contingent, shifting from one moment to the next in accordance with new experience.
'Truth? What is that?' (Pontius Pilate).
23rd October, 2008: I’m reading Simon Blackburn’s philosophical book ‘Truth’. I’m now inclined to think that there are probably absolute truths ‘out there’, but that as individuals, at specific moments, we can only perceive/process/register limited aspects of those absolute truths; the narrator above did not pay much attention to the young boy, perhaps as she wrongly assumed he was okay, or because she was otherwise preoccupied; and so she did not correctly perceive the absolute, real truth of his situation, which was that he was seriously ill. So perhaps reality is concrete and absolute, but some truths are unattainable or only partly, imperfectly perceptible or explicable to our limited human attention and cognition. It is this human limitation on perception and understanding which leads to uncertainty, and which often makes a plurality of interpretations/theories/hypotheses likely. Yet, ultimately, there is probably a final, absolute truth or solution ‘out there’. But questions of morality and ethics may be in a different league to concrete facts of actual happenings; ethics are ‘true’ for the individual who takes a certain moral stance. But different individuals and cultures have differing practices and attitudes, which may mean that there is no single truth when it comes to ethics. This may be a difficult assertion to accept – even for myself who is putting it forward.
So, absolutism no longer applies when we consider matters of ethics; rather, ethical standpoints are relativistic; individual ethical debates, in individual situations, may even require a minimalist approach, and be resolved on a ‘case-by-case’ basis. At least this is how I’m currently trying to grapple with concepts of truth.
13th July, 2009: Where can we locate the truth of a literary text? Its truths may be different depending on the interpretations of individual readers. It may be impossible to truly discern the actual truth of the text, e.g. what did the original writer intend by certain symbols, what were her hidden meanings? Perhaps truth is located only in the mind of the original author at the moment of writing the text. The translator’s interpretation of the text’s truth is perhaps located in the mind of the translator at the moment of making a translation choice/decision. As William Butcher has illustrated to me in personal correspondence, the translator’s interpretation of a source text word or episode may shift over time.
THE TRANSLATOR'S TRUTH
In this sense, translation is a postmodern process. Deconstructing text and translating it, are activities which are rife with uncertainty, and which shift in an unstable, unpredictable manner over time. Emotional reactions to text will vary just as do the readers’ cognitive processing of meaning. The translator’s emotional state is, indeed, posited by Chesterman and other theorists as an influence on her choices.'
What do other scholars out there think of any of these reflections? Are there parts of your own doctoral journey you would like to share? If so, I would be delighted to hear from you.
Translating wordplay
In this posting, I want to talk about the issue of translating wordplay, which is perhaps one of the biggest challenges facing translators. My doctoral research on different, successive retranslations into English of Verne's Le Tour du Monde en Quatre-Vingts Jours (Around the World in Eighty Days) (1873), offered several interesting examples of how different translators faced up to - or shied away from - the challenge presented by Verne's use of a pun which depends, for its humorous effect, on the specific linguistic resources of the French language, and is thus impossible to transmit intact into English. On the other hand, creative TL equivalents have been found to Verne's pun. Let us examine some of the approaches of the Verne translators, to rendering this notoriously difficult piece of wordplay.
Chapter 34 of 80 Jours contains a wordplay which, because of the material differences between the French and English languages, is impossible to reproduce literally in English while simultaneously achieving the same comic effect. Puns in general are notoriously difficult to translate, and highlight the unique effects of individual languages. On the other hand, the varying solutions which translators propose in order to render ST wordplay is revelatory of translatorial creativity, i.e. the ‘causa efficiens’.
Verne made this wordplay one of the central features of Chapter 34, in that it provided him with his chapter title: Qui procure à Passepartout l’occasion de faire un jeu de mots atroce, mais peut-être inédit. (Which affords Passepartout the opportunity to make an atrocious, though perhaps hitherto unheard of, play on words). (my translation).
Verne made this wordplay one of the central features of Chapter 34, in that it provided him with his chapter title: Qui procure à Passepartout l’occasion de faire un jeu de mots atroce, mais peut-être inédit. (Which affords Passepartout the opportunity to make an atrocious, though perhaps hitherto unheard of, play on words). (my translation).
This chapter title has been rendered by Glencross, in his 2004 retranslation of '80 Days', as Which provides Passepartout with the opportunity to make an appalling but perhaps original play on words. This continues Glencross’s lexically non-imitative but semantically faithful translation approach, but the issue of interest here is the pun itself. In the story, Fogg strikes Inspector Fix, with both fists, in retaliation for his having unjustly arrested him and thus jeopardized his prospects of winning the wager. At this point, Passepartout approvingly remarks: «Pardieu ! voilà ce qu’on peut appeler une belle application de poings d’Angleterre !» (Verne, 1997 : 276). In his endnote, Glencross explains that Verne has employed here ‘a play on the two homophones point (here designating a type of lace’ and poing (fist). The two meanings collapsed into the pun are, then, ‘a pretty piece of embroidery’ and ‘a well-thrown punch’. It is obviously impossible to replicate in English this wordplay, with its linking of two very different activities, lace-making and boxing’. (Verne, 2004: 248).
Glencross translates the above ST segment as: ‘Good heavens! That’s what I’d call a striking example of the benefits of an English education’, which is recognizable as a TL pun to the TL reader, and at this point of the TT, the reader is referred to the relevant endnote, which makes it clear that the ST pun is different, and which then explicates the original pun and explains why it could not be literally reproduced in the TT while still maintaining similar effect on the TT reader. This endnote therefore illustrates the translator’s semantic fidelity to the ST, the importance he attaches to explicitation, and his care to secure some type of equivalent effect where complete ST accuracy is not possible. Glencross thus makes his translatorial dilemma clear. Imitation of this pun is not possible, owing to the material cause of incompatible SL and TL resources. He therefore brings the ‘efficient cause’ of agency into play, by resourcefully creating an alternative TL wordplay, in an attempt to create analogous humorous impact (equivalent effect) through a TT solution which is necessarily non- imitative of ST meaning as well as ST form.
Glencross translates the above ST segment as: ‘Good heavens! That’s what I’d call a striking example of the benefits of an English education’, which is recognizable as a TL pun to the TL reader, and at this point of the TT, the reader is referred to the relevant endnote, which makes it clear that the ST pun is different, and which then explicates the original pun and explains why it could not be literally reproduced in the TT while still maintaining similar effect on the TT reader. This endnote therefore illustrates the translator’s semantic fidelity to the ST, the importance he attaches to explicitation, and his care to secure some type of equivalent effect where complete ST accuracy is not possible. Glencross thus makes his translatorial dilemma clear. Imitation of this pun is not possible, owing to the material cause of incompatible SL and TL resources. He therefore brings the ‘efficient cause’ of agency into play, by resourcefully creating an alternative TL wordplay, in an attempt to create analogous humorous impact (equivalent effect) through a TT solution which is necessarily non- imitative of ST meaning as well as ST form.
This chapter title has been translated by Butcher (1995/1999) as ‘Which Provides Passepartout With the Opportunity To Make an Atrocious Pun, Possibly Never Heard Before.' Here is the segment in question, viz. Verne's original, together with Butcher's translation, in a coupled pair:
« Bien tapé! !» s’écria Passepartout, qui, se permettant un atroce jeu de mots bien digne d’un Français, ajouta : «Pardieu ! voilà ce qu’on peut appeler une belle application de poings d’Angleterre !» / ‘Well hit!’ exclaimed Passepartout. Indulging in an atrocious pun, as only a Frenchman can, he added, ‘Pardieu! That is what you might call a fine English punch and judy!’
« Bien tapé! !» s’écria Passepartout, qui, se permettant un atroce jeu de mots bien digne d’un Français, ajouta : «Pardieu ! voilà ce qu’on peut appeler une belle application de poings d’Angleterre !» / ‘Well hit!’ exclaimed Passepartout. Indulging in an atrocious pun, as only a Frenchman can, he added, ‘Pardieu! That is what you might call a fine English punch and judy!’
Both Butcher and Glencross, in different, individually chosen ways, create an alternative TL wordplay. They provide a necessarily non-imitative TL equivalent pun which secures comparable humorous effect. Lexical imitation in tandem with equivalent humorous effect is, in this case, impossible, owing to the causa materialis of SL/TL difference. Surprisingly, Butcher does not comment on his approach to translating this Verne pun in his Endnotes.
Butcher’s solution to this ST/SL verbal badinage, presenting as it does a significant translational conundrum, is arguably ‘closer’ to ST form in its representation of the term ‘punch’ which connotes semantically with the ST ‘poings’. Here, a word-for-word, lexically imitative rendering and a translation which secures equivalent effect through a humorous duality of meaning, are mutually exclusive, owing to the material cause of SL/TL contrasting lexical possibilities. Over the years, certain translators of TM have rendered this pun in a variety of ways, while others have chosen to avoid the challenge, thus omitting it. This has also meant their having to alter the chapter title as Verne’s chapter heading specifically refers to the wordplay about to occur.
Frederick Walter, a United States contemporary translator of Verne novels (though not of ATWED) has commented on this particular pun (personal communication, 2007): “To me, its (ATWED’s) biggest challenge for the translator is the all-but-impossible pun in Chapter 34”. In this connection, Walter comments in further personal correspondence (2007) that a translator should “strive for reasonable English equivalents’ of Verne’s stylistic traits, including his humour and figurative language. Verne often uses slang and idiomatic usages, sometimes toying with them for comic or ironic effect. It’s important to approximate that effect in the translation – which means that a given rendering may seem far from literal, simply because it’s working to parallel a joke, metaphor, colloquialism, turn of phrase, etc.”. Walter therefore seems to approve of norms of using non-imitative TL expression in order to secure equivalent effect, such as ST humour or ST metaphorical usage.
The ‘notoriously difficult’ (Walter, 2007: personal communication) ST pun is rendered by Webber, in his own distinctive manner, in his 1966 abridged translation of 80 Days:
«Pardieu ! voilà ce qu’on peut appeler une belle application de poings d’Angleterre !» / ‘What a beauty!’ cried Passepartout and added, making for the door, ‘One might say that the Fogg has cleared a way.’ The individual choice of TL expression in this Webber segment shows the primacy of the efficient cause of translatorial agency in this shift. However, though Webber has attempted to match the humour of the ST wordplay, other humorous elements of the replaced segment are omitted (‘bien digne d’un Français’; ‘un atroce jeu de mots’). Thus, through omitting the last-mentioned ST phrase, the result is that Webber’s TT does not explicitly draw attention to the pun, but allows it to occur spontaneously and speak for itself, as it were.
«Pardieu ! voilà ce qu’on peut appeler une belle application de poings d’Angleterre !» / ‘What a beauty!’ cried Passepartout and added, making for the door, ‘One might say that the Fogg has cleared a way.’ The individual choice of TL expression in this Webber segment shows the primacy of the efficient cause of translatorial agency in this shift. However, though Webber has attempted to match the humour of the ST wordplay, other humorous elements of the replaced segment are omitted (‘bien digne d’un Français’; ‘un atroce jeu de mots’). Thus, through omitting the last-mentioned ST phrase, the result is that Webber’s TT does not explicitly draw attention to the pun, but allows it to occur spontaneously and speak for itself, as it were.
In spite of the general creativity of their translation, Robert Baldick and his wife and co-translator Jacqueline Harrison-Baldick, in their 1968 rendering of Verne's novel, do not provide a TL equivalent wordplay of their own imagining for the ST pun in Chapter 34 of ATWED; in this instance, surprisingly, they seem to have 'declined a creative opportunity', to borrow Malmkjaer’s (2008) phrase. Instead, they transfer the SL pun unchanged to the TT, with a footnote explaining the SL duality of meaning; this means that they provide a ‘descriptive equivalent’ or ‘functional equivalent’, to use Newmark’s (1988) terms. Newmark notes that this is technically the most accurate means of translating a SC-bound term (or, as here, a SL effect). Perhaps norms of accuracy superseded a desire to be imaginative, in this decision by the Baldicks.
Let me now move back in time, to Stephen W. White's 1874 highly accurate and imitative retranslation of this Verne novel. Did White's generally faithful approach to translating Verne, include a creative rendering of the famous ST pun? Here is the coupled pair in question, including the TT segment offered by White:
«Bien tapé !» s’écria Passepartout, qui, se permettant un atroce jeu de mots, bien digne d’un Français, ajouta : «Pardieu ! voilà ce qu’on peut appeler une belle application de poings d’Angleterre !» / “Well hit!” cried Passepartout, who, allowing himself an atrocious flow of words, quite worthy of a Frenchman, added: “Zounds! this is what might be called a fine application of English fists!” White does not attempt to provide an equivalent TL wordplay, so that ST humour is not fully reproduced. On the other hand, Butcher, through a non-imitative rendering, ‘punch and judy’, in contrast to White’s almost word-for-word translation of the ST pun, succeeds in transmitting Passepartout’s wit. The material cause of SL/TL difference in lexical resources means that a non-imitative, creative rendering is the only means of achieving equivalent humorous effect in the translation of Verne’s pun. Butcher thus also demonstrates his creativity and ingenuity in this shift. He is thus able to render ‘jeu de mots’ as ‘pun’, whereas White ‘under-translates’ it as ‘flow of words’.
To summarise this brief history of the translation of Verne's pun, we seem to find that more recent retranslators have been more inclined to offer a creative TL equivalent wordplay, while earlier translators, such as White, Towle, Desages, and even the Baldicks, have declined the creative opportunity of devising a TL original pun, though in many other ways, all of these people are resourceful, creative translators.
I wonder what these wordplay translational data might tell us about changing norms of translation over the years, from 1873 (the first Towle rendering of 80 Days) up to 2004 (the most recent complete retranslation by Michael Glencross). Why is that earlier translators shied away from rendering the pun creatively? Why, in contrast, have more recent retranslators been more proactive and creative in offering their own attempts at equivalent humorous, polysemous effect in the TL?
Does this change indicate that norms of translation have, perhaps, become more prescriptive of an approach in which all possible ST elements are rendered by some means or another, rather than continuing with a Victorian tolerance towards omission of certain ST components? Is it because earlier translators were under greater time pressure to deliver their translations to publishers? Were earlier translators less creative, less courageous perhaps, than contemporary ones? Did earlier translators feel they had less creative licence, liberty, authority, to depart from the ST? But the latter hardly applied to the likes of Towle and Desages, who used much non-imitative, florid, Dickensian, Victorian English, with regular embellishments and omissions, together with personal interpretations of parts of the ST.
No doubt there are multiple possible causal explanations. Dr Brett Epstein of the University of East Anglia, Norwich, in her blog on Translation Studies, has an interesting posting on wordplay to which I would now refer readers of this posting.
How might you, Reader, have translated this wordplay? Or do you have examples of other wordplay translations?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
publication in Verniana
The good news I received earlier today is that my article on John Webber's 1966 abridged translation of Verne's Around the world in eighty days has been accepted for publication in the online journal of Verne studies, Verniana. The peer reviewer has suggested some minor changes. So once the article in its final form has been submitted in the next few days, I will post a copy of it on this blog.
I am also translating, for the first time into English, some lesser-known fiction by Jules Verne (some of which was allegedly written and/or amended by his son Michel Verne), as part of a project being undertaken by the North American Jules Verne Society (NAJVS). I referred to this translation assignment in a recent posting, without specifying at the time, the exact nature of the literary translation work in question. I am currently reading, with fascination, the works in question, including a novella entitled Pierre-Jean by Jules Verne, and what is apparently his son's extended version of this novella, entitled La Destinée de Jean Morenas. I will be translating some critical materials on these works also. So lots to keep me busy for a while, in tandem with my job applications and thesis corrections, publication work, etc.
My book proposal is currently being studied by a scholarly publishing house, so this is an exciting time on the translational and publication fronts. At least having the article accepted by Verniana is, thus far, a hugely encouraging piece of news.
I've also been applying for French lecturing posts advertised in a number of smaller, and very interesting looking, USA liberal arts colleges and technological universities; one of the smaller colleges in question was founded by the Benedictine order and has an ethos based on that of St Benedict and his religious order, while another has an affiliation with the Lutheran church. As somebody who was educated here in Ireland, at primary and secondary school levels, by religious orders, viz. the Presentation Sisters, the Sisters of Mercy and the Christian Brothers, the possibility of returning to an educational environment which has a religious ethos, is tantalising. I think I would welcome the fact that I would be teaching and researching against a backdrop of certain moral, ethical and religious principles which should inform all of college life.
I notice that many of the USA universities to which I am currently applying, seek a 'Statement of Teaching Philosophy' from each candidate. One of the colleges had an interesting variation on this requirement, viz. in my application to them for a French lecturing and research post, I had to include an audio recording of myself speaking for a few minutes, in what they described as 'impromptu French', about my approach to teaching French. This had to be included on a CD-ROM (or an old-fashioned tape, but I managed to record myself on CD) and furnished by post as part of a 'hard copy' application, as well as registering with the college online.
Thanks to Mr Conor Sullivan of the School of Education here in DCU, I surmounted, without too many wounds, the technological hurdle of recording myself on CD. Conor kindly gave me a digital dictaphone into which I spoke in French for a few minutes, and he then sent it to various parts of my computer drives, e-mail, etc. and put it on a CD for me. So the CD and application has now been posted to the USA, and I have a copy of the recording to listen to again should I need to. Thank you, Conor!
What do others out there think about teaching philosophies? If anyone would like to share their thoughts on their own pedagogical approaches, or has suggestions as to what constitutes a sound philosophy of teaching, your comments would be very welcome. I tried to locate some reputable online articles for advice on drafting my own philosophy. The advice given in one reputable article was to think about your own approaches to learning, what works for you as a learner, and to think about the teachers and professors who personally inspired you over the years. What was it you liked about their teaching methods? Conversely, what didn't work for you? What have you learnt from your own experiences of teaching to date, however wide (or limited) that experience might be? Above all, the advice is to give copious examples from your own experience, rather than making aspirational, abstract (waffly?) statements. And have fellow students/supervisors, etc. look over your draft philosophy of teaching before you submit it. I drafted a philosophy, and tried to make it as honest and personal as possible, but I don't know yet how it would stand up to the scrutiny of an academic Search Committee or an education studies specialist. I will try to copy it onto this blog and ask for your comments and advice, which I would appreciate very much... Apparently I do have at least one reader out there (je vous remercie, Madame!). So if there are others, please drop in and say hi/or leave a comment... It's starting to feel decidedly isolated out here in cyberspace... Also, while I think of it, I kept a personal Reflective Journal of the PhD research process over the last two years. I will review it and see whether any of it might make for an interesting blog posting or two.
Finally, a fellow doctoral researcher in Literary Translation is currently visiting me for a few days here in DCU. His name is Humberto Burcet-Roja, and he is based at the University of Tarragona in Spain. His supervisor is Professor Anthony Pym. Humberto's research specialism is the study of Pacific literatures in translation, with a particular focus on the indigenous Maori literature of New Zealand. I will try to post further details of Humberto's very interesting work on this blog in future articles. He is due to submit his thesis in the coming months. I got to know Humberto last year, in August, 2008, at the CETRA doctoral summer school on literary translation and Interpreting Studies, where he was one of my fellow students and presenters of his research. Since then, many of us who attended that two-week summer school have kept in contact through group e-mail and Facebook, and this has proved to be a wonderful network of new Translation Studies scholars from across the world. CETRA has also started an online forum called TS-DOC, which you should check out at some stage. It aims to coordinate doctoral research in Translation Studies internationally.
I am also translating, for the first time into English, some lesser-known fiction by Jules Verne (some of which was allegedly written and/or amended by his son Michel Verne), as part of a project being undertaken by the North American Jules Verne Society (NAJVS). I referred to this translation assignment in a recent posting, without specifying at the time, the exact nature of the literary translation work in question. I am currently reading, with fascination, the works in question, including a novella entitled Pierre-Jean by Jules Verne, and what is apparently his son's extended version of this novella, entitled La Destinée de Jean Morenas. I will be translating some critical materials on these works also. So lots to keep me busy for a while, in tandem with my job applications and thesis corrections, publication work, etc.
My book proposal is currently being studied by a scholarly publishing house, so this is an exciting time on the translational and publication fronts. At least having the article accepted by Verniana is, thus far, a hugely encouraging piece of news.
I've also been applying for French lecturing posts advertised in a number of smaller, and very interesting looking, USA liberal arts colleges and technological universities; one of the smaller colleges in question was founded by the Benedictine order and has an ethos based on that of St Benedict and his religious order, while another has an affiliation with the Lutheran church. As somebody who was educated here in Ireland, at primary and secondary school levels, by religious orders, viz. the Presentation Sisters, the Sisters of Mercy and the Christian Brothers, the possibility of returning to an educational environment which has a religious ethos, is tantalising. I think I would welcome the fact that I would be teaching and researching against a backdrop of certain moral, ethical and religious principles which should inform all of college life.
I notice that many of the USA universities to which I am currently applying, seek a 'Statement of Teaching Philosophy' from each candidate. One of the colleges had an interesting variation on this requirement, viz. in my application to them for a French lecturing and research post, I had to include an audio recording of myself speaking for a few minutes, in what they described as 'impromptu French', about my approach to teaching French. This had to be included on a CD-ROM (or an old-fashioned tape, but I managed to record myself on CD) and furnished by post as part of a 'hard copy' application, as well as registering with the college online.
Thanks to Mr Conor Sullivan of the School of Education here in DCU, I surmounted, without too many wounds, the technological hurdle of recording myself on CD. Conor kindly gave me a digital dictaphone into which I spoke in French for a few minutes, and he then sent it to various parts of my computer drives, e-mail, etc. and put it on a CD for me. So the CD and application has now been posted to the USA, and I have a copy of the recording to listen to again should I need to. Thank you, Conor!
What do others out there think about teaching philosophies? If anyone would like to share their thoughts on their own pedagogical approaches, or has suggestions as to what constitutes a sound philosophy of teaching, your comments would be very welcome. I tried to locate some reputable online articles for advice on drafting my own philosophy. The advice given in one reputable article was to think about your own approaches to learning, what works for you as a learner, and to think about the teachers and professors who personally inspired you over the years. What was it you liked about their teaching methods? Conversely, what didn't work for you? What have you learnt from your own experiences of teaching to date, however wide (or limited) that experience might be? Above all, the advice is to give copious examples from your own experience, rather than making aspirational, abstract (waffly?) statements. And have fellow students/supervisors, etc. look over your draft philosophy of teaching before you submit it. I drafted a philosophy, and tried to make it as honest and personal as possible, but I don't know yet how it would stand up to the scrutiny of an academic Search Committee or an education studies specialist. I will try to copy it onto this blog and ask for your comments and advice, which I would appreciate very much... Apparently I do have at least one reader out there (je vous remercie, Madame!). So if there are others, please drop in and say hi/or leave a comment... It's starting to feel decidedly isolated out here in cyberspace... Also, while I think of it, I kept a personal Reflective Journal of the PhD research process over the last two years. I will review it and see whether any of it might make for an interesting blog posting or two.
Finally, a fellow doctoral researcher in Literary Translation is currently visiting me for a few days here in DCU. His name is Humberto Burcet-Roja, and he is based at the University of Tarragona in Spain. His supervisor is Professor Anthony Pym. Humberto's research specialism is the study of Pacific literatures in translation, with a particular focus on the indigenous Maori literature of New Zealand. I will try to post further details of Humberto's very interesting work on this blog in future articles. He is due to submit his thesis in the coming months. I got to know Humberto last year, in August, 2008, at the CETRA doctoral summer school on literary translation and Interpreting Studies, where he was one of my fellow students and presenters of his research. Since then, many of us who attended that two-week summer school have kept in contact through group e-mail and Facebook, and this has proved to be a wonderful network of new Translation Studies scholars from across the world. CETRA has also started an online forum called TS-DOC, which you should check out at some stage. It aims to coordinate doctoral research in Translation Studies internationally.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Mika
I know i've resolved to confine this blog principally to Translation Studies subjects rather than personal ones, but it just occurred to me that there is something music-related I need to share: Mika's new, second album, The Boy who Knew Too Much, which I treated myself to the other day, is absolutely BRILLIANT!
His first album was so fab that I thought it would be a very hard act to follow, and that his second album would therefore not be quite as brill. But he has proved me wrong, so wrong! I can't stop playing it. His current single from the album, We Are Golden, which features a children's choir, belongs to his special style of catchy, retro pop, and is trademark Mika. But my favourite track is track three, Rain, which a friend suggested to me will probably be his next single, and I would agree. It's as good as Grace Kelly, if not better.
If anything describes Mika's music in a nutshell, it is the phrase infectiously catchy. As well as the uptempo, catchy, screaming electropop, though, he also has some lovely ballads and a beautiful duet on this new album (can't remember the name of the female singer).
This will probably be my only album review on this blog. Back to Translation Studies!
His first album was so fab that I thought it would be a very hard act to follow, and that his second album would therefore not be quite as brill. But he has proved me wrong, so wrong! I can't stop playing it. His current single from the album, We Are Golden, which features a children's choir, belongs to his special style of catchy, retro pop, and is trademark Mika. But my favourite track is track three, Rain, which a friend suggested to me will probably be his next single, and I would agree. It's as good as Grace Kelly, if not better.
If anything describes Mika's music in a nutshell, it is the phrase infectiously catchy. As well as the uptempo, catchy, screaming electropop, though, he also has some lovely ballads and a beautiful duet on this new album (can't remember the name of the female singer).
This will probably be my only album review on this blog. Back to Translation Studies!
Jobbing translator
I've recently written to a number of French and British publishing houses, offering my services as a literary translator! Keeping fingers and toes crossed... However, one piece of encouraging news received yesterday is that i'm being given the opportunity to take part in a USA-based translation project, as a literary translator, so i'm looking forward to receiving the French literature for translation in the near future... More details on the exact nature of this translation enterprise will be given in future postings. I'm looking forward to the challenge and the experience; it is very valuable (invaluable, in fact) translating experience and will hopefully boost the strength of future academic and translational job applications.
One other thing: the article on adaptations which I recently submitted to the online Verne Studies journal Verniana, on children's abridged versions of Verne in English, deals not now with Faraday's Ladybird version of 80 Days (though I do mention it in passing within the article, and will write a separate essay on Faraday in the near future) but rather with John Webber's abridged 1966 translation into English of the above Verne novel. It's based on a chapter of my PhD thesis which I had to delete for word count reasons.
I got my book proposal off to a publisher this morning, based on my PhD thesis, so i'm also waiting to hear about that in due course ...
I was speaking to a friend (and fellow PhD researcher) of mine here in DCU this morning. I was absolutely thrilled and taken by surprise when she mentioned that she has been reading some of my postings and likes them! As this friend is also a blogger, and what's more, a researcher expert on blogging whose thesis I can't wait to read, she was also able to give me some very valuable advice on blogging in general, and on the value of considering keeping separate blogs, if desired, one dealing with professional issues, the other being reserved to more personal matters.
I think this is excellent advice. That is why this blog is principally concerned with all matters related to academia and, especially, Translation Studies.
Merci pour les conseils excellents. A la prochaine, mes chers lecteurs, et n'oubliez pas de me laisser vos commentaires si vous le voulez. J'attends avec impatience vous lire tous.
One other thing: the article on adaptations which I recently submitted to the online Verne Studies journal Verniana, on children's abridged versions of Verne in English, deals not now with Faraday's Ladybird version of 80 Days (though I do mention it in passing within the article, and will write a separate essay on Faraday in the near future) but rather with John Webber's abridged 1966 translation into English of the above Verne novel. It's based on a chapter of my PhD thesis which I had to delete for word count reasons.
I got my book proposal off to a publisher this morning, based on my PhD thesis, so i'm also waiting to hear about that in due course ...
I was speaking to a friend (and fellow PhD researcher) of mine here in DCU this morning. I was absolutely thrilled and taken by surprise when she mentioned that she has been reading some of my postings and likes them! As this friend is also a blogger, and what's more, a researcher expert on blogging whose thesis I can't wait to read, she was also able to give me some very valuable advice on blogging in general, and on the value of considering keeping separate blogs, if desired, one dealing with professional issues, the other being reserved to more personal matters.
I think this is excellent advice. That is why this blog is principally concerned with all matters related to academia and, especially, Translation Studies.
Merci pour les conseils excellents. A la prochaine, mes chers lecteurs, et n'oubliez pas de me laisser vos commentaires si vous le voulez. J'attends avec impatience vous lire tous.
Friday, October 30, 2009
The job search is proceeding at a frantic pace.
Apart from lecturing jobs, i've been applying for jobs on monster.ie and irishjobs.ie. The tefl.com website has yielded nothing to date. So i'm currently applying for customer service jobs using French in IT firms, through recruitment agencies. Though without holding out much hope, I have to admit.
However, I spent some time today writing to a number of French publishers, offering my services as a literary translator from French to English. A competitive market, indeed. But nothing ventured, etc.
There is apparently a renaissance of interest in all things vampire and zombie/ghoul-related, among teenage readers. Think Stephanie Myers and her Twilight series or the new American TV series True Blood, or Buffy from a few years back. So 'Le Monde des Livres' today reports that a French-Danish novelist, Victor Dixen, has published the first in a four-part series of French language novels, set in the USA, about a teenage boy with behavioural difficulties (what adolescent doesn't have behavioural difficulties?) who goes to a tough, prison-like summer camp and discovers he's a vampire. As you do.
And I thought: 'Hey, I could translate those books into English!' Of course, knowing my luck, the English translations are probably already well under way. But this French article gave me the idea of offering my services as a literary translator to a number of French publishing houses. So I have sent off CVs, detailed letters of motivation, and samples of my translations and my research. One can only remain optimistic. I have looked for an appointment with the DCU Careers Service also. Still also getting TEFL regrets and a regret today from Hertz Car Rental for a French customer representative, saying they had no vacancies, but the job was only advertised the other day on Monster.ie... What IS a guy supposed to do?
I suppose in recessionary times, to set up my own translation and/or English-teaching bureau, maybe in France, might be a positive step. And i'm still waiting to hear back from universities so I'm staying resolutely hopeful.
Apart from lecturing jobs, i've been applying for jobs on monster.ie and irishjobs.ie. The tefl.com website has yielded nothing to date. So i'm currently applying for customer service jobs using French in IT firms, through recruitment agencies. Though without holding out much hope, I have to admit.
However, I spent some time today writing to a number of French publishers, offering my services as a literary translator from French to English. A competitive market, indeed. But nothing ventured, etc.
There is apparently a renaissance of interest in all things vampire and zombie/ghoul-related, among teenage readers. Think Stephanie Myers and her Twilight series or the new American TV series True Blood, or Buffy from a few years back. So 'Le Monde des Livres' today reports that a French-Danish novelist, Victor Dixen, has published the first in a four-part series of French language novels, set in the USA, about a teenage boy with behavioural difficulties (what adolescent doesn't have behavioural difficulties?) who goes to a tough, prison-like summer camp and discovers he's a vampire. As you do.
And I thought: 'Hey, I could translate those books into English!' Of course, knowing my luck, the English translations are probably already well under way. But this French article gave me the idea of offering my services as a literary translator to a number of French publishing houses. So I have sent off CVs, detailed letters of motivation, and samples of my translations and my research. One can only remain optimistic. I have looked for an appointment with the DCU Careers Service also. Still also getting TEFL regrets and a regret today from Hertz Car Rental for a French customer representative, saying they had no vacancies, but the job was only advertised the other day on Monster.ie... What IS a guy supposed to do?
I suppose in recessionary times, to set up my own translation and/or English-teaching bureau, maybe in France, might be a positive step. And i'm still waiting to hear back from universities so I'm staying resolutely hopeful.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Annie Ernaux Review
Here is one of my Amazon review on the great contemporary French writer Annie Ernaux.
5.0 out of 5 stars Brutal, Unflinching, uncomfortable Honesty, October 12, 2009
By
Kieran Matthew ODriscoll "Kieran O'Driscoll" (Dublin City University) - See all my reviewsI have enjoyed all of Annie Ernaux's 'romans autobiographiques' in their original French, over the last few years, including the French original of 'I remain in Darkness', the rendering of a French title which literally translates as 'I have not come out of my Darkness/my Night'. The concept of the oxymoronically-termed 'autobiographical novel' seems to be championed by Ernaux and other present-day French writers. Over the years, Ernaux has written very intimate texts about herself, her parents, significant life events and about French society as a whole. In one work, she recounts how, one Sunday afternoon when she was aged twelve, her father tried to kill her mother. In another work, while she is undergoing radiation and chemotherapy for breast cancer, her lover comments that she is the first woman he has been with whose vagina doesn't have pubic hair. In another work, she and her much younger lover take photographs, on the mornings after their lovemaking, of the clothes, shoes and other objects strewn randomly about the floor of their apartment the night before as they passionately undressed and made their way to the bedroom. In yet another text, Ernaux speaks openly about her affair with a Russian diplomat and her obsessive passion and jealousy throughout their affair. But perhaps the most brutally honest and shocking image of all is that of the foetus which she flushes down the toilet as a young university student, following a horrific backstreet abortion. I focus on the foregoing images because what I most admire about Ernaux is her fearless self-revelation. She regularly shocks her reader. She is as controversial and as provocative as her compatriot, Marguerite Duras, in the extent of her self-disclosure. But does she merely set out to be controversial for the sheer hell of it? I believe not. Personally, she has inspired me to be similarly self-revealing in my own writings. So I have begun to write about personal areas, intimate spaces of my life which I would have previously considered it unthinkable to share. Dire l'indicible. Something like the late great Irish writer Nuala O Faolain in her memoir Are You Somebody? (1996). So if and when I write my own 'roman autobiographique', it will certainly be dedicated to, and inspired by, Annie Ernaux. I welcome this and other translations of her works into English, as literary translation helps to spread the important 'memes' of the highly original, thought-provoking texts of writers such as Ernaux.
5.0 out of 5 stars Brutal, Unflinching, uncomfortable Honesty, October 12, 2009
By
Kieran Matthew ODriscoll "Kieran O'Driscoll" (Dublin City University) - See all my reviewsI have enjoyed all of Annie Ernaux's 'romans autobiographiques' in their original French, over the last few years, including the French original of 'I remain in Darkness', the rendering of a French title which literally translates as 'I have not come out of my Darkness/my Night'. The concept of the oxymoronically-termed 'autobiographical novel' seems to be championed by Ernaux and other present-day French writers. Over the years, Ernaux has written very intimate texts about herself, her parents, significant life events and about French society as a whole. In one work, she recounts how, one Sunday afternoon when she was aged twelve, her father tried to kill her mother. In another work, while she is undergoing radiation and chemotherapy for breast cancer, her lover comments that she is the first woman he has been with whose vagina doesn't have pubic hair. In another work, she and her much younger lover take photographs, on the mornings after their lovemaking, of the clothes, shoes and other objects strewn randomly about the floor of their apartment the night before as they passionately undressed and made their way to the bedroom. In yet another text, Ernaux speaks openly about her affair with a Russian diplomat and her obsessive passion and jealousy throughout their affair. But perhaps the most brutally honest and shocking image of all is that of the foetus which she flushes down the toilet as a young university student, following a horrific backstreet abortion. I focus on the foregoing images because what I most admire about Ernaux is her fearless self-revelation. She regularly shocks her reader. She is as controversial and as provocative as her compatriot, Marguerite Duras, in the extent of her self-disclosure. But does she merely set out to be controversial for the sheer hell of it? I believe not. Personally, she has inspired me to be similarly self-revealing in my own writings. So I have begun to write about personal areas, intimate spaces of my life which I would have previously considered it unthinkable to share. Dire l'indicible. Something like the late great Irish writer Nuala O Faolain in her memoir Are You Somebody? (1996). So if and when I write my own 'roman autobiographique', it will certainly be dedicated to, and inspired by, Annie Ernaux. I welcome this and other translations of her works into English, as literary translation helps to spread the important 'memes' of the highly original, thought-provoking texts of writers such as Ernaux.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Open Access
I attended an interesting meeting here in the Dublin City University library this afternoon, about 'Open Access' to Irish (and worldwide) university research, including the DCU Online Research Access Service (DORAS). The chief Librarian, Mr Paul Sheehan, and Communications lecturer Brian Trench, both gave us a detailed talk on the nature and benefits of Open Access.
As a result, I spent a couple of hours this afternoon looking over a number of articles i'd written over the last couple of years, some published, others unpublished working papers, others submitted for decision on publication. I e-mailed some of these articles for possible inclusion in the DORAS respository, which is DCU's open access repository.
The advantages to us researchers of Open Access are several, e.g. depositing our papers, published elsewhere or otherwise, in our university's repository or in eventual cross-university repositories, increases the visibility and accessibility of our research. Papers stored in these repositories are indexed by search engines, and Open Access showcases our own individual research output and that of entire schools and centres within a college/university. Open Access gives us, as researchers, easier, quicker, direct, free access to research worldwide in our field. It conversely makes our own research more visible and accessible worldwide.
So I would encourage scholars reading this blog to check out these Open Access portals online, for different institutions worldwide, as it may open the floodgates to a wealth of new and relevant research material in your area. You should also seriously consider submitting your work to your college's repository, if it has one. It could be a useful scholarly networking mechanism.
Check out the DCU Open Access repository at http://www.doras.dcu.ie/.
For details of a project aimed at setting up a combined open access portal for all Irish universities, see http://www.irel-open.ie/ .
The librarians involved can advise on copyright issues in the case of each article submitted. Also, of course, entire theses form a big part of the Open Access portals.
Finally, here in DCU, DORAS currently accepts, from its researchers, a wide variety of types of research output, viz. journal articles, books, book chapters, working papers, research theses, conference papers, posters and presentations. So I emailed them a poster and a PowerPoint slideshow as well as a few articles, all on my PhD research. Hopefully, they may be included in DORAS in the near future.
As a result, I spent a couple of hours this afternoon looking over a number of articles i'd written over the last couple of years, some published, others unpublished working papers, others submitted for decision on publication. I e-mailed some of these articles for possible inclusion in the DORAS respository, which is DCU's open access repository.
The advantages to us researchers of Open Access are several, e.g. depositing our papers, published elsewhere or otherwise, in our university's repository or in eventual cross-university repositories, increases the visibility and accessibility of our research. Papers stored in these repositories are indexed by search engines, and Open Access showcases our own individual research output and that of entire schools and centres within a college/university. Open Access gives us, as researchers, easier, quicker, direct, free access to research worldwide in our field. It conversely makes our own research more visible and accessible worldwide.
So I would encourage scholars reading this blog to check out these Open Access portals online, for different institutions worldwide, as it may open the floodgates to a wealth of new and relevant research material in your area. You should also seriously consider submitting your work to your college's repository, if it has one. It could be a useful scholarly networking mechanism.
Check out the DCU Open Access repository at http://www.doras.dcu.ie/.
For details of a project aimed at setting up a combined open access portal for all Irish universities, see http://www.irel-open.ie/ .
The librarians involved can advise on copyright issues in the case of each article submitted. Also, of course, entire theses form a big part of the Open Access portals.
Question: is there a danger of repositories being used to 'dump' anything and everything, of variable quality? What sort of vetting mechanisms should or are in place to decide on what gets into DORAS and other such portals?
At present, DCU is encouraging its researchers to submit their work, e.g. articles, to DORAS. Overall, I do think it's a positive initiative.
Finally, here in DCU, DORAS currently accepts, from its researchers, a wide variety of types of research output, viz. journal articles, books, book chapters, working papers, research theses, conference papers, posters and presentations. So I emailed them a poster and a PowerPoint slideshow as well as a few articles, all on my PhD research. Hopefully, they may be included in DORAS in the near future.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Original Metaphors of Translation: continued
In a recent posting, I began to write about metaphors of translation. I now continue this discussion about metaphors.
While doing my doctoral research, I devised a couple of original metaphors of the translator herself. These metaphors are, for me, useful ways of viewing the identity and role of translators in general, but especially literary translators. In the first of two original, self-coined metaphors, I see the translator as a fused entity, a merging of two persons, viz. the source text author and the translator herself. This I call the Tuvix metaphor. I hope it will appeal to people who are fans of the Star Trek Voyager television series! In the second original metaphor, I draw on my background in local government law, to see the translator as being akin to the executor or executrix of a will. I begin by explaining the Tuvix metaphor.
In Season 2, Episode 40 of the American television science-fiction series Star Trek: Voyager, first aired on 6th May, 1996, entitled Tuvix, two separate individuals, Tuvok and Neelix, who are prominent crewmembers of the eponymous star ship, become accidentally fused into a single entity. This ‘merger’, which has created a new crewmember who decides to name himself ‘Tuvix’, has been caused by the ‘symbiogenetic’ (2007:1) properties of a collection of orchids handled by the two crewmembers in question.
The newly created individual appears to his colleagues to be a ‘strange yet oddly familiar alien’ (2007:1) who combines, in one new person, the memories, abilities and markedly different temperaments of the two people whose fusion has brought him into existence. Tuvix begins the effort to adjust to his new identity and settles into his new (only known) environment aboard the star ship, and while his fellow crew members become accustomed to him, Neelix’s lover, Kes, is simultaneously drawn to and disturbed by the affection of this ‘amalgam’ (ibid: 1) towards her.
Ultimately, the ship’s Doctor creates a means of ‘restor[ing] [Tuvix] to his two original components’ (ibid:1), so that by the end of the episode, Tuvok and Neelix have been completely reconstituted, though at the cost of ending the life of the hybrid entity Tuvix: the fact that the ship’s Captain (following the refusal of the Doctor on ethical and professional grounds to perform the procedure which will rehabilitate the two original officers, as it entails the execution of the syncretic being who protests his right to live) has effectively assassinated the hybridized, living being, constitutes the central moral dilemma of this narrative.
However, I also see Tuvix as being, perhaps, an unusual metaphor for the inherent fusion of ST author and TT producer which, according to translation scholar Theo Hermans (2002), is a fundamental characteristic of translating activity and its products, a metaphor which draws attention to the textual presence of the translating agent, alongside or intermingled with that of the original author. Translation theorist Cees Koster has also written an interesting article, published in 2002, concerning the textual presence of the translator within the target text.
My task in my PhD thesis, as a DTS researcher, was, like the Doctor on board Voyager, to somehow ‘separate’ these two individual identities present in the TT. For instance, I tried to identify how much of a particular translation was attributable to the translator's creativity, and how much to the creativity of the original author, Jules Verne.
Nonetheless, the crucial difference between a hybrid being such as Tuvix, and a TT or a translator, is, similarly to Chesterman’s point in Memes of translation (1997), that while translations do indeed propagate ‘memes’ or ideas from SC/ST to various TC/TTs, the original entities (ST, identity of the original author) do not cease to exist. Rather, a new fused entity is created alongside the original (source) entity, a newcomer which, like Tuvix, may initially be seen as ‘new’ or ‘alien’ in a TC, which may nevertheless habituate itself to the new form: and yet, especially to those familiar with the ST, the TT may seem not just strange or somehow disturbing, but also ‘oddly familiar’.
To further develop the ‘Tuvix metaphor’, the so-called ‘symbiogenetic’ (2007:1) qualities of the orchids which helped create this new humanoid in the TV episode referred to, are also features of translating, translators and of TTs themselves: translation may be interpreted as creating symbiosis between ST/SC and TT/TC, and between ST sender and TT sender, often to the mutual benefit of all such parties.
Memes, the ‘cultural genes’ which are ideas (Dawkins, 1976), survive across time, languages and cultures, based on their strength, usefulness and adaptability, and they are, through the medium of translation, replicated, faithfully (in theory or aspiration) but more often as ‘imperfect copies’ of the original text/memes/genes, to use Dawkins’ (ibid) Darwinian terminology. Just as genes are spread and multiplied by a replicator which is a living organism, so too are memes spread by the replicator of the translator and the target text; and just as newly (re)produced living organisms are not perfect copies or clones of their replicators, but are hybrid and original, similar yet also different to the parent, neither are translated texts identical to their sources, but are, rather, new, original, and a hybrid of source author and translator, together with the hybrid presence in the TT of environmental influences i.e. the multiple causes of translation. A single source text will continue, over time, to evolve and mutate unpredictably, just as living species and individual genes are transmitted and end up changing in the process. Around the World in Eighty Days has been translated in full, into English, by at least eleven different translators, over a period of more than 130 years, from 1873 to the present. Each translation of this same source novel has its own literary style and sometimes contains personal interpretations of meaning on the part of the translators. The ST novel thus evolves continuously in retranslation.
I now go on to briefly explain the legal metaphor of translation I have come up with, viz. the translator as executor of a will, prefacing this legal metaphor with a brief reference to the existing metaphor of the translator as an artist, a performer, e.g. of a piece of music. Here, the French term interprète seems apt. The translator who translates a literary work of art places her own style and interpretation on it. S/he 'performs' the ST work in the TL.
This performance metaphor is suggested by Williams and Chesterman (2002), when they ask if translation as a process might be viewed as being akin to playing a piece of music. For me, as somebody who has both translated text and played pieces of music (composed by others in a distant past), this is a ripe, apt image. A creative literary translator who does not feel unduly constrained by norms or regimes will provide a fresh, personal rewriting of a source text, in much the same way as a pianist may create a unique interpretation of a celebrated piece of music, pouring his or her own feelings and understanding into the performance.
Thus, the act of translation is a performance by translators endowed with differing degrees of talent, creativity and freedom – George Makepeace Towle and William Butcher are just two of many ‘performers’ who have individually, thus uniquely, interpreted Verne. How have they done so, exactly? And what is the reader’s evaluation of, or response to, their translations? These are among the historical and evaluative questions I tried to answer in my doctoral research.
The question I asked myself in pondering the translator's degree of creative freedom was inspired by personal and professional experience of dealing with the last will and testament of various individuals: could a translator be likened to the executor of a will? The executor (or executrix) is carrying out, or executing, the wishes or instructions of the deceased, as expressed in their last will and testament (which I liken to the source text). The question is whether the executor is merely a figurehead, mechanically following instructions provided by a will and by a solicitor, or a proactive agent making genuinely individual choices which will make a difference to an estate and its benefactors (whom I liken to the target text and target readers.) Depending on the particular circumstances surrounding specific wills, or specific translation situations, executors – and translators – may be sometimes ‘rubber stamps’ (though it is to be hoped that this is rare, especially in literary translation); at other times, they may make significant choices.
Cronin’s (2000) metaphor of the translator as nomad, in his monograph Across the lines, is echoed by Anthony Pym, when he refers to the translator as an ‘intercultural cause’:
Thanks to their material bodies, translators can move. And thanks to their knowledge of foreign languages and cultures, they can often move further and more easily than…those who depend on their translations. This could mean translators are never simply ‘in’ a culture or a society…
(Pym, 1998, p.172.)
Pym sees translators as moving, not just between cultures, but also between centres and peripheries, into power structures and through networks. Towle is clearly an example of a translator who moved between several different cultures, held significant power in each, and used his knowledge of foreign language and culture to translate.
This point reminds me that Jules Verne himself, in writing Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours, was drawing on several different cultures to create his characters and locales. It is interesting that the central character, Phileas Fogg, was an Englishman, and that the opening chapters contain many knowledgeable references to British culture. In fact, it was because of this that, when I first read Around the world in eighty days as a child, I failed to realise that it was a translation and that the author was a Frenchman. The novel’s point de départ seems so deeply rooted in a British cultural setting, that it became, for the child reader that I was, a quintessentially British work of literature which must have emanated from a British author. (During my viva, Andrew Chesterman revealed that he, too, had not originally been aware that this novel was a translation). This overt 'Britishness' within the French ST is a reflection of Verne’s intercultural confidence; many of his heroes and heroines do, in fact, come from a diverse array of nations.
On a darker note, however, this British flavour, combined as it has been with TTs which fail to acknowledge the ST, SL, or the translator's identity/input, also reflects the deliberately covert presentation of translation as something which it is not, thus willing the original author's nationality/identity, and the identity and very existence of his translators, into oblivion.
In sum, I would be interested to receive feedback from readers as to what metaphors of translation and of the translator are found useful, and why.
While doing my doctoral research, I devised a couple of original metaphors of the translator herself. These metaphors are, for me, useful ways of viewing the identity and role of translators in general, but especially literary translators. In the first of two original, self-coined metaphors, I see the translator as a fused entity, a merging of two persons, viz. the source text author and the translator herself. This I call the Tuvix metaphor. I hope it will appeal to people who are fans of the Star Trek Voyager television series! In the second original metaphor, I draw on my background in local government law, to see the translator as being akin to the executor or executrix of a will. I begin by explaining the Tuvix metaphor.
In Season 2, Episode 40 of the American television science-fiction series Star Trek: Voyager, first aired on 6th May, 1996, entitled Tuvix, two separate individuals, Tuvok and Neelix, who are prominent crewmembers of the eponymous star ship, become accidentally fused into a single entity. This ‘merger’, which has created a new crewmember who decides to name himself ‘Tuvix’, has been caused by the ‘symbiogenetic’ (2007:1) properties of a collection of orchids handled by the two crewmembers in question.
The newly created individual appears to his colleagues to be a ‘strange yet oddly familiar alien’ (2007:1) who combines, in one new person, the memories, abilities and markedly different temperaments of the two people whose fusion has brought him into existence. Tuvix begins the effort to adjust to his new identity and settles into his new (only known) environment aboard the star ship, and while his fellow crew members become accustomed to him, Neelix’s lover, Kes, is simultaneously drawn to and disturbed by the affection of this ‘amalgam’ (ibid: 1) towards her.
Ultimately, the ship’s Doctor creates a means of ‘restor[ing] [Tuvix] to his two original components’ (ibid:1), so that by the end of the episode, Tuvok and Neelix have been completely reconstituted, though at the cost of ending the life of the hybrid entity Tuvix: the fact that the ship’s Captain (following the refusal of the Doctor on ethical and professional grounds to perform the procedure which will rehabilitate the two original officers, as it entails the execution of the syncretic being who protests his right to live) has effectively assassinated the hybridized, living being, constitutes the central moral dilemma of this narrative.
However, I also see Tuvix as being, perhaps, an unusual metaphor for the inherent fusion of ST author and TT producer which, according to translation scholar Theo Hermans (2002), is a fundamental characteristic of translating activity and its products, a metaphor which draws attention to the textual presence of the translating agent, alongside or intermingled with that of the original author. Translation theorist Cees Koster has also written an interesting article, published in 2002, concerning the textual presence of the translator within the target text.
My task in my PhD thesis, as a DTS researcher, was, like the Doctor on board Voyager, to somehow ‘separate’ these two individual identities present in the TT. For instance, I tried to identify how much of a particular translation was attributable to the translator's creativity, and how much to the creativity of the original author, Jules Verne.
Nonetheless, the crucial difference between a hybrid being such as Tuvix, and a TT or a translator, is, similarly to Chesterman’s point in Memes of translation (1997), that while translations do indeed propagate ‘memes’ or ideas from SC/ST to various TC/TTs, the original entities (ST, identity of the original author) do not cease to exist. Rather, a new fused entity is created alongside the original (source) entity, a newcomer which, like Tuvix, may initially be seen as ‘new’ or ‘alien’ in a TC, which may nevertheless habituate itself to the new form: and yet, especially to those familiar with the ST, the TT may seem not just strange or somehow disturbing, but also ‘oddly familiar’.
To further develop the ‘Tuvix metaphor’, the so-called ‘symbiogenetic’ (2007:1) qualities of the orchids which helped create this new humanoid in the TV episode referred to, are also features of translating, translators and of TTs themselves: translation may be interpreted as creating symbiosis between ST/SC and TT/TC, and between ST sender and TT sender, often to the mutual benefit of all such parties.
Memes, the ‘cultural genes’ which are ideas (Dawkins, 1976), survive across time, languages and cultures, based on their strength, usefulness and adaptability, and they are, through the medium of translation, replicated, faithfully (in theory or aspiration) but more often as ‘imperfect copies’ of the original text/memes/genes, to use Dawkins’ (ibid) Darwinian terminology. Just as genes are spread and multiplied by a replicator which is a living organism, so too are memes spread by the replicator of the translator and the target text; and just as newly (re)produced living organisms are not perfect copies or clones of their replicators, but are hybrid and original, similar yet also different to the parent, neither are translated texts identical to their sources, but are, rather, new, original, and a hybrid of source author and translator, together with the hybrid presence in the TT of environmental influences i.e. the multiple causes of translation. A single source text will continue, over time, to evolve and mutate unpredictably, just as living species and individual genes are transmitted and end up changing in the process. Around the World in Eighty Days has been translated in full, into English, by at least eleven different translators, over a period of more than 130 years, from 1873 to the present. Each translation of this same source novel has its own literary style and sometimes contains personal interpretations of meaning on the part of the translators. The ST novel thus evolves continuously in retranslation.
I now go on to briefly explain the legal metaphor of translation I have come up with, viz. the translator as executor of a will, prefacing this legal metaphor with a brief reference to the existing metaphor of the translator as an artist, a performer, e.g. of a piece of music. Here, the French term interprète seems apt. The translator who translates a literary work of art places her own style and interpretation on it. S/he 'performs' the ST work in the TL.
This performance metaphor is suggested by Williams and Chesterman (2002), when they ask if translation as a process might be viewed as being akin to playing a piece of music. For me, as somebody who has both translated text and played pieces of music (composed by others in a distant past), this is a ripe, apt image. A creative literary translator who does not feel unduly constrained by norms or regimes will provide a fresh, personal rewriting of a source text, in much the same way as a pianist may create a unique interpretation of a celebrated piece of music, pouring his or her own feelings and understanding into the performance.
Thus, the act of translation is a performance by translators endowed with differing degrees of talent, creativity and freedom – George Makepeace Towle and William Butcher are just two of many ‘performers’ who have individually, thus uniquely, interpreted Verne. How have they done so, exactly? And what is the reader’s evaluation of, or response to, their translations? These are among the historical and evaluative questions I tried to answer in my doctoral research.
The question I asked myself in pondering the translator's degree of creative freedom was inspired by personal and professional experience of dealing with the last will and testament of various individuals: could a translator be likened to the executor of a will? The executor (or executrix) is carrying out, or executing, the wishes or instructions of the deceased, as expressed in their last will and testament (which I liken to the source text). The question is whether the executor is merely a figurehead, mechanically following instructions provided by a will and by a solicitor, or a proactive agent making genuinely individual choices which will make a difference to an estate and its benefactors (whom I liken to the target text and target readers.) Depending on the particular circumstances surrounding specific wills, or specific translation situations, executors – and translators – may be sometimes ‘rubber stamps’ (though it is to be hoped that this is rare, especially in literary translation); at other times, they may make significant choices.
Cronin’s (2000) metaphor of the translator as nomad, in his monograph Across the lines, is echoed by Anthony Pym, when he refers to the translator as an ‘intercultural cause’:
Thanks to their material bodies, translators can move. And thanks to their knowledge of foreign languages and cultures, they can often move further and more easily than…those who depend on their translations. This could mean translators are never simply ‘in’ a culture or a society…
(Pym, 1998, p.172.)
Pym sees translators as moving, not just between cultures, but also between centres and peripheries, into power structures and through networks. Towle is clearly an example of a translator who moved between several different cultures, held significant power in each, and used his knowledge of foreign language and culture to translate.
This point reminds me that Jules Verne himself, in writing Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours, was drawing on several different cultures to create his characters and locales. It is interesting that the central character, Phileas Fogg, was an Englishman, and that the opening chapters contain many knowledgeable references to British culture. In fact, it was because of this that, when I first read Around the world in eighty days as a child, I failed to realise that it was a translation and that the author was a Frenchman. The novel’s point de départ seems so deeply rooted in a British cultural setting, that it became, for the child reader that I was, a quintessentially British work of literature which must have emanated from a British author. (During my viva, Andrew Chesterman revealed that he, too, had not originally been aware that this novel was a translation). This overt 'Britishness' within the French ST is a reflection of Verne’s intercultural confidence; many of his heroes and heroines do, in fact, come from a diverse array of nations.
On a darker note, however, this British flavour, combined as it has been with TTs which fail to acknowledge the ST, SL, or the translator's identity/input, also reflects the deliberately covert presentation of translation as something which it is not, thus willing the original author's nationality/identity, and the identity and very existence of his translators, into oblivion.
In sum, I would be interested to receive feedback from readers as to what metaphors of translation and of the translator are found useful, and why.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Adaptation revisited: Verniana Article
Friday, October 16, 2009
More details on the Verniana article: more thoughts on Adaptation and Abridgement within Translation Studies
The article which I am currently finalising for 'Verniana', presents three different abridged versions of Verne's celebrated
novel 'Around the World in Eighty Days'. One is a Ladybird Children's Classics
retelling, in simple language, with numerous illustrations; another is an
abridged version for adolescent readers, while the third is a version written
to meet the language learning needs of non-native students of English as
a Foreign Language.
I consider the patterns of abridgment and adaptation of the original novel,
and offer many examples of the actual, empirically observed features of these
shortened versions, e.g. simplified language in some cases, simplified or altered character
portrayal, altered narrative technique, and so on. I ask what are the underlying,
multiple causal influences of the changes? What are the functions and effects
of these adaptations (skopostheorie and reception theory). The skopos or
goal of the adaptation, as the final cause, may be a primary cause of the
forms of abridged translations, but other multiple causes are also at work,
e.g. the agency of the individual translator/adapter, norms of appropriate
content, language level, and so on.
Can these adapted versions be regarded as 'translations' in the same way
as the more conventional, complete and unabridged, inter-lingual renderings
of original works? Thus, the ontological debate as to what constitutes 'translation'
is brought into sharper relief when we consider the question of abridgment
and simplification for particular segments of readers ('superaddressees')
with well-defined needs and expectations.
I ask also whether simplified versions of classic literature are a useful,
welcome, valuable means of introducing younger readers to celebrated authors
such as Jules Verne,
and to his now canonized works of literature? Or are they 'unfaithful' 'deformations'
of such great literary works? This speculation is fundamental and long-standing
within Translation Studies and Comparative Literature: are adapted versions
entropic, or could they rather be, to use Cronin's (2006) term, 'negentropic',
i.e. is there translation 'gain' rather than 'loss' when an original (source)
text as written by Verne, is re-presented in a new, different, diverse form?
The question of negentropy
can be applied to all types of adaptations, e.g. film versions of novels,
television adaptations, and generally, to all translation, even when it is
claimed to somehow traduce, or be inferior to, a great original. If literary
translations in general have been, in the past, misprized by some literary
comparatists, then adaptations have been particularly frowned upon. I argue
in this paper that not alone is conventional literary translation a legitimate
and valuable means of accessing an original work, but also that abridged
literature, be it intra- or inter-lingually adapted, contributes something
new and original to the source text/source author.
These Verne adapted versions,
for instance, give younger readers their first introduction to Verne's work,
and, when they are older, they may be enticed by these simplified versions
to read the complete original, be it in the source or a target language.
I thus see adaptation as a positive phenomenon. It creates new cultural forms.
It fosters diversity. It does not involve 'transformative loss' (Cronin,
2006: 127) but, rather, initiates younger readers to the joy of literature.
Diversity is welcome. It does not devalue, but enhances the original, which
gains, not loses, through its adaptations. A similar role of initiation,
diversity and gain is performed by film versions, stage musical adaptations
of classic novels, and so on. Adaptation 'keeps the classics alive' (Oittinen,
1993: 87) and builds a bridge between the source text and diverse groups
of readers/consumers.
Finally, I will consider proposals by translation scholars such as Delabastita
(2008), that the time may be opportune for Translation Studies to reconsider
its sometimes fixed, static conceptions of its object of study. I argue that
the study of abridged versions and of other, non-traditional/non-prototypical
forms of translations, may help our discipline to open up its object(s) of
enquiry to a much wider variety of textual manifestations of inter- and intra-lingual
transmission. Thus, all sorts of textual versions such as retellings, rewritings,
cinematic adaptations, theatrical versions, and so on, seem to merit the
ongoing attention of translation scholars, in tandem with film, literary
and cultural studies scholars. These texts include the three Verne
abridgments which are put under the microscope in this paper. I will argue
and seek to show by examples that they are indeed valid Verne 'translations',
notwithstanding
the differing status labels attached to them, and despite their various features
and possible origins. Furthermore, I argue that adaptation and 'conventional'
translation (unabridged) should not be seen as separate issues: they both
involve similar trends of simplification, concision, reduction, omission
and interpretation. The distinction (between adaptations and prototypical
translations) is quantitative rather than qualitative.
novel 'Around the World in Eighty Days'. One is a Ladybird Children's Classics
retelling, in simple language, with numerous illustrations; another is an
abridged version for adolescent readers, while the third is a version written
to meet the language learning needs of non-native students of English as
a Foreign Language.
I consider the patterns of abridgment and adaptation of the original novel,
and offer many examples of the actual, empirically observed features of these
shortened versions, e.g. simplified language in some cases, simplified or altered character
portrayal, altered narrative technique, and so on. I ask what are the underlying,
multiple causal influences of the changes? What are the functions and effects
of these adaptations (skopostheorie and reception theory). The skopos or
goal of the adaptation, as the final cause, may be a primary cause of the
forms of abridged translations, but other multiple causes are also at work,
e.g. the agency of the individual translator/adapter, norms of appropriate
content, language level, and so on.
Can these adapted versions be regarded as 'translations' in the same way
as the more conventional, complete and unabridged, inter-lingual renderings
of original works? Thus, the ontological debate as to what constitutes 'translation'
is brought into sharper relief when we consider the question of abridgment
and simplification for particular segments of readers ('superaddressees')
with well-defined needs and expectations.
I ask also whether simplified versions of classic literature are a useful,
welcome, valuable means of introducing younger readers to celebrated authors
such as Jules Verne,
and to his now canonized works of literature? Or are they 'unfaithful' 'deformations'
of such great literary works? This speculation is fundamental and long-standing
within Translation Studies and Comparative Literature: are adapted versions
entropic, or could they rather be, to use Cronin's (2006) term, 'negentropic',
i.e. is there translation 'gain' rather than 'loss' when an original (source)
text as written by Verne, is re-presented in a new, different, diverse form?
The question of negentropy
can be applied to all types of adaptations, e.g. film versions of novels,
television adaptations, and generally, to all translation, even when it is
claimed to somehow traduce, or be inferior to, a great original. If literary
translations in general have been, in the past, misprized by some literary
comparatists, then adaptations have been particularly frowned upon. I argue
in this paper that not alone is conventional literary translation a legitimate
and valuable means of accessing an original work, but also that abridged
literature, be it intra- or inter-lingually adapted, contributes something
new and original to the source text/source author.
These Verne adapted versions,
for instance, give younger readers their first introduction to Verne's work,
and, when they are older, they may be enticed by these simplified versions
to read the complete original, be it in the source or a target language.
I thus see adaptation as a positive phenomenon. It creates new cultural forms.
It fosters diversity. It does not involve 'transformative loss' (Cronin,
2006: 127) but, rather, initiates younger readers to the joy of literature.
Diversity is welcome. It does not devalue, but enhances the original, which
gains, not loses, through its adaptations. A similar role of initiation,
diversity and gain is performed by film versions, stage musical adaptations
of classic novels, and so on. Adaptation 'keeps the classics alive' (Oittinen,
1993: 87) and builds a bridge between the source text and diverse groups
of readers/consumers.
Finally, I will consider proposals by translation scholars such as Delabastita
(2008), that the time may be opportune for Translation Studies to reconsider
its sometimes fixed, static conceptions of its object of study. I argue that
the study of abridged versions and of other, non-traditional/non-prototypical
forms of translations, may help our discipline to open up its object(s) of
enquiry to a much wider variety of textual manifestations of inter- and intra-lingual
transmission. Thus, all sorts of textual versions such as retellings, rewritings,
cinematic adaptations, theatrical versions, and so on, seem to merit the
ongoing attention of translation scholars, in tandem with film, literary
and cultural studies scholars. These texts include the three Verne
abridgments which are put under the microscope in this paper. I will argue
and seek to show by examples that they are indeed valid Verne 'translations',
notwithstanding
the differing status labels attached to them, and despite their various features
and possible origins. Furthermore, I argue that adaptation and 'conventional'
translation (unabridged) should not be seen as separate issues: they both
involve similar trends of simplification, concision, reduction, omission
and interpretation. The distinction (between adaptations and prototypical
translations) is quantitative rather than qualitative.
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