Hey guys. So this is going to be a new little thingy I try to do every Thursday on my blog, called Thinking on Thursday, which is just basically my excuse to write a random post about whatever bookish thoughts are floating around in my head. Please, feel free to comment and lets make a whole discussion-thing out of it okay? It’ll be fun. Maybe it could even turn in a meme, who knows.
Sooooo… As some of you may have heard, I’ve started reading Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes for the first time. I’ve read books that were originally written in other languages and translated to English, but some reason the idea of the translation, and what makes a good one, has never crossed my mind until now.
I originally went and bought the Barnes and Noble Classics edition of Don Quixote, because I tend to like their classics. They put all these handy-dandy footnotes at the bottom to define archaic words or tell you what some reference means. However, upon reading the first chapter it seemed a little… off. I had flipped through a copy of Don Quixote at the library recently and the writing in the B&N version seemed really stiff and formal and unnecessary complicated.
For example, here’s the library copy’s version of the first couple sentences (this translation is by J.M. Cohen):
“In a certain village in La Mancha, which I do not wish to name, there lived not long ago a gentleman – one of those who have always a lance in the rack, an ancient shield, a lean hack and a greyhound for coursing. His habitual diet consisted of stew, more beef than mutton, of hash most nights, boiled bones on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays and a young pigeon as a Sunday treat; and on this he spent three-quarters of his income.”
So, not so bad. I have no clue what the hell a hack is in this sense, or what coursing is, but I get the gist of it. Here’s the same thing but from the B&N version (translation by Tobias Smollett):
“In a certain corner of La Mancha*, the name of which I do not choose to remember, there lately lived one of those country gentlemen, who adorn their halls with a rusty lance and worm-eaten shield*, and ride forth on the skeleton of a horse, to course with a sort of starved greyhound. Three fourths of his income were scarce sufficient to afford a dish of hodge-podge,* in which the mutton bore no proportion to the beef, for dinner; a slate of salmagundy,* commonly at supper; gripes and grumblings* on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, and the addition of a pigeon or some such thing on the Lord’s-day.”
The *’s are where those handy footnotes I was talking about were. But yeah… it’s different. So apparently a hack is a horse? Still not quite sure what the starved greyhound thing is about. And I have no idea what the hell salmagundy, gripes and grumblings, or hodge-podge are, at least not until looking at said footnotes.
Anyways, so after I bought the B&N version and realized it seemed odd, I went back and found a translation by Edith Grossman, which is apparently one of the newest translations. I bought it (hadn’t borrowed the library copy yet), and here are those same sentences in her version:
“Somewhere in La Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing. An occasional stew, beef more often than lamb, hash most nights, eggs and abstinence on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, sometimes squab as a treat on Sundays – these consumed three-fourths of his income.*”
Grossman’s translations seems clearest – there is no confusion over the animals kept for racing, and she descibes what DQ (Don Quixote) eats most nights. Her footnote then explains that Cervantes is explaining the typical aspects of life for the rural gentry, and that he’s pointing out that DQ is kind of broke by describing the food – beef was cheaper than lamb. It all just seems simpler.
So, I’ve been reading Grossman’s version and I’m really enjoying it so far. Every now and then she mentions something that really should have a footnote but it doesn’t, so then I go open the B&N version and look it up. For example, a character says in the 4th chapter that if let go, this bad guy will “skin me alive, just like St. Bartholomew”. Maybe it’s glaringly obvious to some, but I wasn’t sure if he meant that St. B was the one skinning people, or if St. B got skinned himself. I looked in the B&N edition, and apparently St. B was flayed alive with a knife – ouch.
I mentioned the confusion I was having on finding the “best” translation to a friend, but said I was really enjoying Grossman’s version. The friend compared the B&N and the Grossman, and said that she thought Grossman took too many “liberties” with the text. Of course, neither of us can read in Spanish so we have no idea what translation in the world gets closest to the real thing. But Grossman’s version definitely has a more modern, easy flow to it. I read Grossman’s “Translator’s Note to the Reader” in the beginning of the book, and she does say this:
“When Cervantes wrote Don Quixote, his language was not archaic or quaint. He wrote in a crackling, up-to-date Spanish that was an intrinsic part of his time (this is instantly apparent when he has Don Quixote, in transports of knightly madness, speak in the old-fashioned idiom of the novels of chivalry), a modern language that both reflected and helped to shape the way people experienced the world.”
To me, that means that she tried to use a more modern tone because Cervantes wrote in a modern tone for his time. That seems logical. I mean, it’s not like she’s throwing in the use of cell phones or anything. The language in the book is just easier to digest, at least for me. And overall, all three of those translations that I quoted from said basically the same thing – just in three different ways. I wish we could ask Cervantes HIS opinion on which English translation is thinks is best for the book, but unfortuntely he died in 1616.
So, what do you guys think about translations?
Should these translated books be as closely and literally translated as possible, or is it the translator’s job to remain true to the story but write it in a way that makes it most enjoyable to the reader?
Do you just avoid books that have been translated from another language at all costs?
Have you ever compared translated editions and just picked the one you felt most comfortable with? How do you choose your translations?
I’d love it if you guys would give me your thoughts on this!
~Sarah
I generally avoid translated books all together. However, if I am going to read a translated book, it better darn-tootin’ be something that is translated to read well in English. Some of them seem as if they used the Google translator – no?
On the other hand, when I think of translations I think of the Bible first and foremost. How many times have we been cautioned by clergy to be careful what translation we pick up because the original Greek and Hebrew has not been carefully translated?
So then I wonder if over-translation can be a problem.
I guess I really don’t have an answer.
Ooo, good point about the Bible, Belle! Translation definitely carries more responsibility there.
Interesting topic! As I’m from Holland, most books I read when I was younger were translated and the translation often felt off to me, which is why I started reading books in English. Well that, and my impatience to read Harry Potter, cause seriously, having to wait another 6 months for the book to come out in Dutch is just cruel.
I think that translations that are done too literally often don’t flow well. When you’re in French class and you’re translating something directly it doesn’t matter so much, with a story it does, cause it can change the tone of it. Like in the different versions of Don Quixote.
I’ve never before even thought of choosing a different translation, but it’s such a good idea to try what works best for you!
I can’t believe I didn’t really think of what a big issue this is for people don’t speak English as their first language. I can’t even imagine the frustration of wanting to read certain books but they aren’t printed in your first language, or take longer.
I think the best translation is, as I were told by my translating courses professors at the university, a translation that enables the reader to experience the text the same way the reader of the original would experience it. The translator should stay true to the story and style, but according to the audience. So, for example, a nineteenth century translation of DQ would be great for the people at that time, but it doesn’t have the same effect now, because the language has changed since then. So, a new, modern translation makes the reading experience better for us.
English is my second language, and although I have been reading in English for the most part, I can’t avoid reading translations. Of course, I read mostly translations when I was younger and I wasn’t that fluent in English. Before I learned English well, a bad translation didn’t bother me so much (which was logical, because how could I know it was bad, right). However, now I can tell from the translation (without reading the original) not only whether it’s good, but also whether the original writing was good or bad – if it was bad than the translation is usually even worse. And let me just say bad translations really bug me nowadays.
As for choosing translations – I don’t have much choice, since my mother tongue is a ‘small’ language, books only get one translation, except for some old classics. Concerning those, for example Shakespeare, I find the best translations those from the middle of the 20th century, whereas older and newer are not so good.
Anyway, I’m glad I can read books in English, because some things just don’t get translated here and I would miss some awesome books if I had to read only translations.
Sorry for the long comment. It’s a very interesting topic and close to my heart.
I agree with your teacher. After trying so many different versions of DQ, it seems more important to me that the story be enjoyable, rather than literal.
Great topic! I never considered the translator when reading a novel until an early college class when we looked at several different translations of the Illiad opening lines. There was such a range in the tone and meaning between what were really the same lines, it was crazy.
I think both a literal and an interpretive translation have their place, but I prefer the translation to be true to the story instead of following a rigid translation that loses some of the spirit. I think Grossman makes a great point that Cervantes wrote in a modern style at the time so she wants to imitate that for the now modern audience.
I’m all about the spirit of the story as well. And I did love that Grossman made that note, because I was kind of worrying myself if it was pushing the limits of being “too” modernized, but now it really makes sense.
And omg I can only imagine trying to figure out which translation of the Illiad to use. That’s one of those big-ass classics that I’ve always kind of assumed would be just too hard. Maybe if I found a good translation I could finally give it a shot!
I read quite a few translated works and love them for the most part. I think that while translators should try to stay as true as they can to the author’s work and intent, I think they should also keep in mind the flow of the language they are translating into and its audience.
I always read reviews of books that have been translated to see what the general consensus is. (We don’t have bookstores big enough to carry several translations of any one book). I think if someone reads a lot of translations they can seek out their favorite translators or editions like B&N, for example.
Furthermore, I think you can “graduate” out of needing a translation. For example, Shakespeare. When you start reading Shakespeare in school, you’re given editions that are usually dual pages, one has the original work and the opposite page has modern English. Some people stick with those editions each time they read Shakespeare, others use them kind of as a crutch until they get used to reading Shakespeare and then choose editions that are just the straightforward text.
I think whichever route one goes, it will eventually be moot as language continues to evolve and change, but that should deter someone from reading translated works.
I like the “graduating” idea. I was going to attempt Shakespeare this year, I may actually search out those dual-copies, lol. I sometimes do the same kind of thing, except I watch a movie first. Like when I first started reading Jane Austen – It was my first experience with older classics, and I watched the movie of P&P first and then the book was so much easier to follow. And good point about how languages is always changing, so the translations will always be changing.
This is a topic that I’ve been thinking about A LOT recently. I’m actually in the middle of interviewing a translator right now and a lot of these topics come up about how the translator’s voice finds itself into the translated text.
To tie it into our Murakami readalong, one of Murakami’s translators had this to say on the topic:
“It’s a very, very subjective process and I know I’m thought of someone who sticks very close to the original. Murakami himself has said that, but I don’t think it’s anything like his writing when you get right down to it – it’s an interesting imitation maybe. On the other hand he’s got how many translators – three active translators – and there’s a certain something that comes through in all of us. And we all have very different styles, but he still has a recognizable voice.”
You all typically read older stuff than I do (I’m not much of a classics guy), so there’s going to be different translation issues with the older literature that we’re not going to see with the newer stuff. But what’s great about the multiple translations of Don Quixote is that you can kind of choose your style. Based on that paragraph alone, I prefer the BN version but I can see how you’d like Grossman’s translation better.
Very cool that you’re interviewing a translator! In a way it’s really interesting to see what each translator does differently, how their tone is, etc. Even though I’m mainly reading the Grossman version, some passages I do look up in all three of those versions just to see what each translator did differently. It’s kind of cool.