In the preceding units, we dwelled on one of the fundamental
problems in translation studies: translatability. It is fundamental
because it regards the recurring question of the translatability of
poetry, for example, and the other old saw of faithful/unfaithful
translations.
We would like to assure ourselves of having expressed
clearly that neither of these questions can be answered in absolute
terms.
Discussion on the statement "poetry is translatable"
does nothing to contribute to the scientific debate nor does its
contrary, nor "translations should be faithful", or even,
"translations should be free". We will discuss in greater detail
some common clichés like these in the third part of our course.
Since the theme of this first part of the course is fundamental
concepts, we will limit ourselves to just indicating some possible
perceptions of the word "translatability", keeping in mind that, in
this respect, there is nothing absolute in any sense.
If one opts for an absolute position, the risk is to
drift off into mysticism, as Walter Benjamin did. In his opinion
the original sin [...] is also "the original sin of the
linguistic spirit". [...] "Each superior language is a translation
of the inferior, until the deployment, in the ultimate clarity, of
the word of God, which is the unifying force of this linguistic
movement". In other words, any linguistic condition below Paradise,
depending on the distance that separates it from Paradise, that it
has from Truth, is intent on redemption, it seeks translation as
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From a practical point of view, it is much more useful to try, as
Torop did, to classify the different aspects of translatability.
This gives the possibility to concretely intervene and understand
before we begin what, in a given situation, is translatable; then it
will be possible to decide how we can convey to the metatext reader
what could not be provided at the first instance.
Translatability problems are often originated by
cultural differences. In cultures where there is snow six months of
the year, there are many verbs to express "to snow" and many nouns
to express "snow", depending on the quality of the snow: icy, wet,
friable, etc. Translating into a language/culture where snow is
seldom seen, a word-for-word translation is necessarily impossible.
In countries like Italy or France, there are qualities and varieties
of cheese and wine that, elsewhere, could be simply unimaginable,
and so can be untranslatable. However, if the translator chooses to
render "Château d'Yquem" as "white wine" or "gorgonzola" as "cheese",
she produces a huge and unforgivable gastronomic loss.
There is the opposite case as well: translation from
a culture in which there are fewer categories in a given context
(grammatical, cultural, etc.) into a culture with more categories.
In this case, the result of literal translation is redundant, has a
surplus of meaning, a situation so common that we hardly notice the
phenomenon any more. An excellent example is the presence/absence of
the article as a grammatical category, as we have shown in the unit
32, with the Russian word roza.
Another example is the expression "New York City" in
non-English languages. In languages like Italian, where cities are
preceded by an article while states are not, it is a redundant
expression. "Vado a New York City" has the same meaning as "Vado a
New York". In English, it is necessary to specify "city" in order to
distinguish it from the state. In Italian, this is redundant
because, if one means the state, one must say "Vado nel New York".
Washington D.C. would propose a similar problem. In Italian, as in
other languages, the "D.C." is redundant because one who wishes to
indicate the state would use the appropriate article: "Vado a
Washington" or "Vado nel Washington"
Continuing with toponyms, the title of Wim Wenders'
film Paris, Texas was not translated when the film was distributed
in Europe, otherwise Europeans would not have understood that the
title is about an American city called "Paris", rather than the
French capital. Americans tend to express the names of non-US towns
this way, too, writing, for example, "Strasburg, France", "Tallinn,
Estonia", or "Helsinki, Finland". When one who translates from
English uses this kind of expression, it sounds very strange in the
receiving culture. For a European citizen it is obvious that Tallinn
is in Estonia, and the expression is redundant. It would sound
equally strange to a US citizen if a text read "The White House,
Washington D.C.".
Unfortunately, translation is not a matter so simple
that it is possible to learn only some general rules, and that is
not our intent in this case, anyway either. Nevertheless, we would
like to point out some extreme examples of translation loss and
redundancy. Here is a puzzling sentence from an Armenian fairy tale.
A Bedouin went to the hag. During tavaf, his dastar was stolen
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This translator complied absolutely with the principle of
transliteration of cultural words. We agree that it would not make
any sense to standardize all realia, in this way
A man went to the temple. During the service, his hat was stolen.
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nor to nationalize them, to appropriate them:
Bill went to the McDonald's. While he gulped his cheeseburger, his Stetson was stolen.
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That sounds neither very Armenian, nor very fairy-tale-like.
However, it is necessary for the text to be understandable, and the
quoted translation of the Armenian fairy tale is not.
An on-going and complex argument translated into
practical terms suggests the distinction into different types of
texts and different types of receivers. I remember a student, during
the discussion of his translation dissertation, explain the term
"chipper" to the committee, which was not translated, but simply
echoed in other languages, for example "cippatore", creating
neologisms known only in a restricted technical area. Any
philologist would have protested but, being an object of practical
use, any other word would have hampered communication.
Undoubtedly, a reader must allow for a certain amount
of effort in understanding a text that comes from a different
culture. Some of the most famous translations penetrated cultures
with locutions that, at first initially caused dismay and confusion.
Shultz's "Great Pumpkin" was at first received with disquiet by
non-English-speaking readers. Now Linus' name is closely related to
the "Grande Cocomero", or "La Grande Citrouille" or "De Grote
Pompoen", or "HaDla'at HaGdolah" in their respective versions of
the Peanuts streap.
The translator must know very well, not only the
language, but also, more importantly, the culture of the prototext.
It is necessary to distinguish realia from common words, and keep in
mind that, what in the prototext may pass absolutely unobserved, in
the metatext can have a strong exotic connotation. It is crucial, as
we have often said, to analyze the dominants of the text to be
translated. The translator must focus on the translatability of the
dominants of a given text for a given audience. Subdominants, to be
placed hierarchically in order of importance within the given
context, can even be translated without/outside the text, in the
critical apparatus or metatext: footnotes, endnotes, chronology,
notes on the author, reviews, encyclopedic items, maps, glossaries,
and so on.
Bibliographical references
APEL F. Sprachbewegung: eine historisch-poetologische Untersuchung
zum Problem des Übersetzen, Heidelberg, Winter, 1982, ISBN 3533031071.
Italian edition: Il movimento del linguaggio. Una ricerca sul
problema del tradurre. Edited by Emilio Mattioli and Riccarda Novello.
Milano, Marcos y Marcos, 1997. ISBN 88-7168-188-6.
HACHATURJAN N. Realija i perevodimost´. (O russkih izdanijah
skazok O. Tumanjana). In Masterstvo perevoda, n. 9,
Moskvà, Sovetskij pisatel´, 1973, p. 42-61.
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