Juggling Vocabulary and regional terminology - Day 5

I just thought of another analogy. I can fill out and sometimes complete crossword puzzles for American audiences. I have limited success with the Monday & Tuesday NYT crossword puzzles. What about British crosswords? I doubt it. While I watch tons of British TV shows and reads lots of British novels, I doubt I can connect clues with British terminology. And forget about the cultural references and slang, although I do know that calling someone (on the phone) is to “give them a bell”, and “bin it” means toss it out. While I get the reference, there’s too much lost in translation to shift my brain around to British English. In the same breath, I realize the Brits probably say the same about Americans. Isn’t it amazing how much English varies among all the Anglo/English speaking countries!

Writing using a Patois, slang, or mimicking “dialect,” a term out of vogue today. Written phonetically, or in the language of a different era, for example Shakespeare that hasn’t been edited for a modern reader: Chaucer is another example – written in Middle English. If you hear out loud, you can often parse them meaning without understand the dialect.

Think of books where the editor left in local or regional idiom. You’ll see this in books written in English for different English-speaking (Anglophone?) countries: Australia / New Zealand, Canada, US, England, Scotland, Ireland, and even India.  Sometimes an editor or copy editor with shift spelling from British to American English, dropping those u’s or c’s for s’s.

Think back to when the Harry Potter series was first published. Editors, or perhaps the publisher, printed books for American / Canadian audiences and for British readers. Alternative titles and different spelling and vocabulary made the editions different, particularly Harry’s first adventure Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (1997) aka Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Why did they do it? Perhaps it was too confusing for the intended audience of young(ish) readers. Personally, I don’t think the teens would have noticed the difference. Then again, young readers (six and up) are now consuming the Harry Potter series, so perhaps the editors were correct. From personal experience, I was reading books intended for young British readers by the time I was nine. I don’t think I noticed a difference in spelling or vocabulary, although I was and still am a person who looks up unfamiliar words. I’m thinking of books like C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia and Arthur Ransome’s Swallows and Amazons.

Bilingual books of prose and verse - Day 4

 For this instance of "Reading in Translation," I’m exploring books that have the original language on one side of the page and English (or the country’s vernacular) on the other, traditional bilingual books. There are also interlinear books with the original on one line and English on the next. Interlinear translations are often used by students or those studying the meaning of individual words.

Examples of bilingual and interlinear books are bibles and prayer books, poetry such as works by Dante and Chaucer. Many works of the Classics (history, poetry, and narrative of the Greeks and Romans) are available in bilingual editions, especially from Loeb. 

When I was reading Thomas Cahill’s “Mysteries of the Middle Ages” and he recommended reading Dante in the Italian to experience Italy in the late Middle Ages / Renaissance. (Thomas Cahill, “Mysteries of the Middle Ages” (NY: Doubleday, 2006), 284.) 

I picked up a lovely bilingual edition of “The Inferno of Dante” translated in new verse by Robert Pinsky (NY: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1994). The verses in Italian and English sit on opposing pages to the delight of the reader. Pinsky’s edition has illustrations by Michael Mazer, which great add to the text and the flavor of the immortal poem.

Another example of bilingual books is those where the characters speak in their native tongue or throw in phrases that aren’t translated. You’ll see this frequently today when Spanish is included, spoken by the Latinx characters. I’ve also seen examples of this in books by French and even German authors where the text is translated but maybe not the slang, curses, or idioms. In rare instances today, there will be a glossary of terms. This may be more common on TV series, particularly British and European series, than American.

We'll read more in translation tomorrow.

Shifting perspective / point of view - Day 3

If you want to stretch the definition or concept of translation, you could read stories that have been rewritten to shift perspective / point of view from the main character to a minor character, from male to female and visa-versa. In literary and copyright lingo, these books are considered derivatives, in other words they are adapted or reconfigured.

Examples of books that are derivatives might be “The Wind Done Gone” or “Rhett Butler’s People.” This was one of the first contemporary legal battles that tested the copyright issue of derivative or not, fair use or original. In the first example, “The Wind Done Gone” by Alice Randall, a “literary parody” of “Gone With The Wind” by Margaret Mitchell, is told by Cynara, Scarlet’s mulatto half-sister who was born into slavery. The language and perspective shifts to that of Cynara. Readers experience this ‘classic’ tale unfold through the eyes of a servant or enslaved person as opposed to the white Southern aristocrat. 

In the same vein, “Rhett Butler’s People” by Donald McCaig tells the story of Rhett Butler’s life from his childhood in poverty forward until he meets Scarlet O’Hara, again playing off the familiar story line of “Gone With The Wind” with a twist.

With a shift of perspective and creative use of story-telling, authors translate traditional or well-known stories, twisting tales to fit different audiences. In some instances, the story is told from the loser’s point-of-view or a secondary character’s perspective. 

While mystery writers have mastered this technique, I’m thinking of Iain Pears’ “An Instance of the Fingerpost,” a murder told from multiple characters’ perspectives. The story is told again and again, each time from a slightly different vantage point. Slowly, the mystery and the crime takes shape until it’s finally solved at the very end.

Other writers take a fairy tale and turn it onto its head. An example of shifting the POV from the ‘traditional’ story to a derivative one is “Wicked” by Gregory McGuire. Gregory McGuire is taking “The Wizard of Oz” and telling the story from the witch’s point of view. A most engaging tale.

Other examples of recent perspective shifting or translating are “Trojan Women” and “Circe.”

Stay tuned for day 4 of "Reading in Translation."

Reading Classic Books and Authors Reading in Translation 2

Sometimes readers don’t even realize they are reading books that have been translated, most usually books designated as “classics.” Here are examples of those whose books we read in translation: Dumas, Zola, Kafka, Camus, Garcia Marquez, Joseph Conrad, and many of the Hispanic / Latinx authors.

The key to reading these books and experience the true flavor of the author’s writing is to find a good translation. So how do you do that? Well, you might find a bilingual copy or look at a copy in the original language to get a flavor for the language, rhythm, meter, and character of the author’s words and compare these elements with those of the translation. I’ll give you an example.

I was reading “The Three Musketeers” by Alexandre Dumas, edited by David Coward (Oxford, UK: World Classics, Oxford University Press, 1991) https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1595394.The_Three_Musketeers and mentioned to a friend that I really liked the translation. He asked if I had read the book in French. While I answered no, I realized I needed to take a look at the text. Next, he asked why I liked the translation and why I would recommend it. Great questions.

First of all, I liked the introduction and editorial comments. While many readers skip this material, it always sheds light on the author, the history of the publication, and more. The introductions may provide historical context, publishing history, and even reader reception (that’s what readers thought about the book when it was first published). In this case, in addition to all the information listed above, there was a bibliography, a chronology of Dumas’ life, and a detailed table of contents. Explanatory notes followed the text. The only thing missing were maps of the city and of France. I would have liked maps so I could follow the escapades of the Musketeers. By the way, a reading buddy of mine recommended using travel books like Baedekers or Michelin Guides with lots of city maps if you don’t have single country atlases.

The main reason I like the World Classics translations is the language, or rather the vocabulary. The Dumas books are full of wonderful descriptions of events; lots of digressions; and a host of vocabulary I had to look up in a sophisticated dictionary. The last may be off-putting, but I loved that the translator challenges the reader with words that were common in the 1840s and may be old fashioned of high-brow today.

In the end, I loved the translation, the style so much, that I purchased other books by Dumas from the same publisher. My true challenge was reading the books without getting bogged down. After all, Dumas and his contemporaries including Dickens, wrote really long books. The trick is to read the books a chapter at a time. After all, Dumas, Dickens, Zola, and others had their books published in serial form, that is a chapter at a time in the newspaper or magazines. Readers waited for the next installment to come out, daily, weekly, and sometimes monthly. Sound familiar? It’s just like a podcast. But I digress.

Reading any of the classics in translation is a pleasure and a challenge. If you’re up for it, try reading them as they were published, a section / chapter / or piece at a time. Use a really good translation. Take the time to savor the writing.

 Stay tuned for more on Reading in Translation tomorrow.

Reading in Translation Day 1

There’s something exciting albeit challenging about reading books that have been translated into English from another language. Translations provide opportunities to sample the reading pleasures of another culture, maybe even another time. Let’s start with something simple, reading fiction that was written in a language other than English and translated into English for an Anglo audience. (US, Canada, UK, Australia, etc.). 

 I read a book translated from Danish. It was supposed to be humorous, a parody of life in rural Denmark. Did I get all the humor? No way! But I could tell what the author was poking fun at, or I think I did via the translator. Most intriguing for a book entitled “The Land of Short Sentences” by Stine Pilgaard, translated by Hunter Simpson (NY, London & Amsterdam: World Editions, 2022) https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59425628-the-land-of-short-sentences.  I found the title was a sly poke at the physical layout of the book and the long, complex sentences.

For this blog series, I’ve been reading books written in European languages and translated for an English reading audience. I’ve been surprised at how much I’m enjoying reading books I’d never have picked up on a regular library ‘shopping’ trip. The books aren’t written for an American audience, but for a European one. Wow! That sounds snooty and pretentious but it’s true. These books are literary, contain wry or sly humor, or can be parodies that an American audience might not get. An excellent translator will pick up on the nuance and humor and convey it in such a way that American audiences get it. At least, that’s the hope. It’s also possible that many of the cultural references will be missed.

Idiom is often a problem in books that are translated. The translator needs to be fluent enough to get the nuance of the idiom and be able to shift the vocabulary so others get what the author is trying to say. Many English language readers get British, American, and other Anglo slang and idiom, but do they get the French slang? Or the German? 

Stay tuned for my next adventure "reading in translation."

 

Getting ready for Bout of Books - May 2022

 I've been reading all spring, getting ready for Bout-of-Books (May) 2022.  

Their theme is reading in place, YEAH.  This time I'm going to focus on "Reading in Translation."  You'll have to tune in each day for a week, beginning May 9 to read what I've been ruminating about since January.

The Bout of Books readathon is organized by Amanda Shofner and Kelly Rubidoux Apple. It’s a weeklong readathon that begins 12:01am Monday, May 9th and runs through Sunday, May 15th in YOUR time zone. Bout of Books is low-pressure. There are reading sprints, Twitter chats, and exclusive Instagram challenges, but they’re all completely optional. For all Bout of Books 34 information and updates, be sure to visit the Bout of Books blog. - From the Bout of Books team

Until then, here's the info from Bout-of-Books. I will be posting here on my blog with a shout out from my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/miriam.kahn.10.

Happy Reading-in-Place,

M

Beware the Rabbit Hole

 I’m reading a Erik Larson’s “In The Garden of Beasts” 
right now that’s downright fascinating. So fascinating that I keep getting distracted by wanting to follow clues, comments, breadcrumbs, and more. In short, I’ve gone down the Rabbit Hole of researching bits of information I’m learning and suddenly realize I’ve put the book aside for hours or days. The minute I jump back into the book, I’m off on another tangent!

To me, that’s the sign of a wonderful book, one that gets you thinking, that makes you wonder about the information conveyed by the author and the topic.

In this instance, I’m reading Erik Larson’s “In the Garden of Beasts.” No, it’s not “the garden of the beasts” but garden of beasts, a translation of Tiergarten, the large park in central Berlin that’s similar to Central Park in NYC or Hyde Park in London, where wild beasts once roamed and were hunted, where residents of the city walk, ride, and are seen. According to the author, there was a zoo on the huge park.

Readers learn the name of the park in the very first pages of Larson’s book, a tempting tidbit that sparks curiosity and perhaps a digression, the first of many. After exploring maps of Berlin and researching the name of the park, I realized the title of the book foreshadows the topic and scope of this “novelistic” history which recounts in detail 1933 - 1934 Germany. The title was a pun, for the garden was full of human beasts, Germans who plotted harm for the “undesirables” of the country. Ironically, it was also the perfect place to walk and talk without being overheard.

Nineteen thirty-three and thirty-four are the first years with Hitler as Chancellor.

In 1933, the Nazis take over the county, the world slowly begins to wake up to the horror that is slowly unfolding. In this case, the book chronicles the first year William Dodd, Professor of History at University of Chicago, is the US Ambassador to Germany (under FDR) from August 1933 through December 29, 1937. He’s not particularly well suited to the post and he’s definitely not FDR’s first or even second choice. Naïve and ill-suited and most definitely penny-pinching, Dodd brings his wife, son, and daughter with him to Berlin. Thus begins this detailed history, a history that asks the reader to pay attention to details, to the daily unfolding of Nazi control of Germany and the German people.

Larson’s book is full of names. He drops them with regularity expecting his readers to recognize them. An authorial quirk is to provide an epithet or descriptor for many of the minor characters such as Hans Gisevius (who wrote “To The Bitter End”, who is always identified as the “Gestapo Memoirist”. Larson uses Dodd’s diaries, primary sources, accounts of others in the State Department and European Ambassadors and undersecretaries Dodd associated with. Most fascinating are the people Dodd’s daughter Martha associated with, everyone from members of Hitler’s staff, to SA and SS officers, to possible NKVD spies. Martha had an active social life that wasn’t discrete and put her in contact with many people, many of whom supported the Nazis.

Along the way, I started a pile and a list of books that had chapters or short pieces on Germany in 1933/34. The pile keeps growing. At a certain point, I had to stop jumping up to read about everyone and everything that piqued my curiosity or jangled a memory of learning about this tumultuous period; in other words, I had to stay away from that Rabbit Hole and create a TBR list.

 

Below is my list so far:

William Shirer Berlin Diary, Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, and The Nightmare Years.

Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. A Life in the 20^th Century: Innocent Beginnings, 1917-1950 (2000).

Winston Churchill – The Gathering Storm

Sinclair Lewis, It Can’t Happen Here (1935).

Herman Wouk, Winds of War (1971)