The Translator’s Dilemma

Helena: Have you got a minute? I’ve been staring at the same paragraph since breakfast, and I think I’m losing perspective.

Helena: Have you got a minute? I’ve been staring at the same paragraph since breakfast, and I think I’m losing perspective.

Marcus: Of course. Which one is it?

Marcus: Of course. Which one is it?

Helena: Chapter nine. The narrator says, literally, that the evening ‘was tasting of old coats’. It’s strange, it’s slightly unpleasant, and I suspect it’s deliberate. But if I leave it, English readers will assume I’ve made a mistake.

Helena: Chapter nine. The narrator says, literally, that the evening ‘was tasting of old coats’. It’s strange, it’s slightly unpleasant, and I suspect it’s deliberate. But if I leave it, English readers will assume I’ve made a mistake.

Marcus: Or they’ll assume the author is eccentric, which presumably she is. Isn’t that the point? You’re not writing your own novel.

Marcus: Or they’ll assume the author is eccentric, which presumably she is. Isn’t that the point? You’re not writing your own novel.

Helena: Naturally. But a translator who clings to every oddity ends up producing something stiff. I want people to enjoy the book, not admire my loyalty.

Helena: Naturally. But a translator who clings to every oddity ends up producing something stiff. I want people to enjoy the book, not admire my loyalty.

Marcus: I’d argue that enjoyment and strangeness aren’t opposites. When I translated that collection of fishermen’s stories last year, the editor kept smoothing out the rough edges. In the end the voices all sounded alike, as though a single polite person had narrated them. I felt I’d betrayed them.

Marcus: I’d argue that enjoyment and strangeness aren’t opposites. When I translated that collection of fishermen’s stories last year, the editor kept smoothing out the rough edges. In the end the voices all sounded alike, as though a single polite person had narrated them. I felt I’d betrayed them.

Helena: And yet you can’t deny that some images simply don’t travel. ‘Old coats’ might suggest warmth and familiarity in the original, while in English it feels vaguely rotten.

Helena: And yet you can’t deny that some images simply don’t travel. ‘Old coats’ might suggest warmth and familiarity in the original, while in English it feels vaguely rotten.

Marcus: Have you asked the author?

Marcus: Have you asked the author?

Helena: I did. She replied in three lines and said the decision was mine. Wonderfully helpful.

Helena: I did. She replied in three lines and said the decision was mine. Wonderfully helpful.

Marcus: That’s actually a compliment. She trusts you. So let me ask a different question. What does the sentence do in the scene? Forget the words for a moment.

Marcus: That’s actually a compliment. She trusts you. So let me ask a different question. What does the sentence do in the scene? Forget the words for a moment.

Helena: Hmm. It tells us the evening is heavy, slightly stale, full of things that have been worn by other people. It’s the first hint that the narrator is uneasy about the visit.

Helena: Hmm. It tells us the evening is heavy, slightly stale, full of things that have been worn by other people. It’s the first hint that the narrator is uneasy about the visit.

Marcus: Then perhaps you don’t need ‘coats’ at all. What about ‘the evening tasted of other people’s lives’? It carries the unease, and it keeps the odd mixture of taste and memory.

Marcus: Then perhaps you don’t need ‘coats’ at all. What about ‘the evening tasted of other people’s lives’? It carries the unease, and it keeps the odd mixture of taste and memory.

Helena: That’s a thought. But it’s longer, and it’s more explicit than hers. She leaves the reader to make the connection.

Helena: That’s a thought. But it’s longer, and it’s more explicit than hers. She leaves the reader to make the connection.

Marcus: True. You’d be doing some of the reader’s work. Is that acceptable?

Marcus: True. You’d be doing some of the reader’s work. Is that acceptable?

Helena: In small doses, perhaps. The danger is that I’d start explaining everything, and the book would lose its mystery.

Helena: In small doses, perhaps. The danger is that I’d start explaining everything, and the book would lose its mystery.

Marcus: Then keep the coats and add something around them. Make the neighbouring sentence slightly more inviting, so the strangeness has a context. Readers forgive almost anything if the rhythm feels intentional.

Marcus: Then keep the coats and add something around them. Make the neighbouring sentence slightly more inviting, so the strangeness has a context. Readers forgive almost anything if the rhythm feels intentional.

Helena: Now that is useful. The following sentence mentions the stairs. I could lengthen it, let the reader linger in the hallway with the smell of damp wool.

Helena: Now that is useful. The following sentence mentions the stairs. I could lengthen it, let the reader linger in the hallway with the smell of damp wool.

Marcus: There you are. You’ve solved it without sacrificing her image.

Marcus: There you are. You’ve solved it without sacrificing her image.

Helena: Well, with your help. I’ll draft both versions tonight and read them aloud tomorrow. The ear is a ruthless judge.

Helena: Well, with your help. I’ll draft both versions tonight and read them aloud tomorrow. The ear is a ruthless judge.

Helena: Thank you, Marcus. Honestly, half of translation is simply having someone to argue with over a cup of coffee.

Helena: Thank you, Marcus. Honestly, half of translation is simply having someone to argue with over a cup of coffee.

Marcus: The other half is knowing when to stop arguing with yourself. And if you still can’t decide, send me both. I’ll tell you which one sounds like her.

Marcus: The other half is knowing when to stop arguing with yourself. And if you still can’t decide, send me both. I’ll tell you which one sounds like her.