9/28 Readings

     I never really thought about how individuals translate a poem because I have never attempted to do so. Whenever I read a Spanish to English translation of a poem, I see many similar aspects to them because they are both Romance languages. Sure, there are a few differences, but overall they convey the same meaning. And conveying the same meaning to a reader in that specific language you're translating it to is the goal, according to both Roger Pulvers and Janine Beichman. Pulvers states that reliable translators get the literal meaning right but sometimes miss the tone, and I feel like I will definitely struggle with this. I am terrible at reading poems and understanding them, and I always try to take the "multiple interpretations" approach. I am not sure about all the tones and sometimes miscount syllables in the English language, so this will surely be a challenge. I understand what Pulvers says when he says we have to drag a text through a wormhole into another universe controlled by the laws of our language. I recently did this with 「夜のくもざる」.  I at first struggled with this story because I was trying to stay close to the Japanese language when in reality I needed to make it understandable to the English audience. 

    I'm surprised Pulvers decided to change a negative tone to a positive one in one of Miyazawa's poems because I thought staying faithful meant you couldn't do that. Beichman stated that it is impossible to make a clone of a poem in a different language, and I agree. Some words in Spanish are much longer than those in English, or vice-versa, so the whole poem can look entirely different in length. I enjoyed Beichman's comment that without translating Western poems, modern Japanese poetry as we know it would not exist. I wonder what type of poetry there would be then. Beichman's biggest comment that spoke to me was "tiny changes can make or break a translation." I will definitely keep this in mind when I attempt the translation of a poem.

9/28 Comments

                I do like writing and reading poetry in English and have had some interesting experiences in Japanese school where I had to memorize poetry (雨ニモマケズ being one of them) during my childhood so I found the translation & process for Ame ni mo makezu especially interesting. I found myself a little apprehensive about translating poetry because it's so difficult and it really doesn't sound the same. But I did enjoy the translation by Pulvers, partly because Ame ni mo makezu is a difficult piece. While the content itself is rather simple, the structure of the sentences is definitely difficult for Japanese and English. Like Professor Elliot mentioned in class, having the verb at the front sort of gives away the surprise that comes with having the verb at the end like in Japanese. I found myself thinking the same when looking at 雨ニモマケズ as Strong in the rain. It's a good translation, I think, because it conveys the willpower and positivity of the line, but it also gives away the surprise. I found it sort of disappointing, but I also understand that there isn't much that can be done about it simply due to grammar structure. 

                For Beichman reading, I found myself a little put off at seeing some of the translations, even though I acknowledge that some lines are really inevitable. One particular part that bothered me was seeing the shape of a poem being changed. While I don't really emphasize shape and white space usage as much as some more visual poets, I do think keeping the shape and white space is important in poetry. As an example, I really loved the translation of 我歌 / My song because the translation maintains the shape of the poem and really beautifully balances meaning and image. On the other hand, the translation for Sotoba Kamachi bothered me because of the rather streamline fashion of the original and the fact that the translation had such line length differences and the creation of new stanzas. I'm being sort of nitpicky admittedly, but it's not something I really enjoy seeing. Of course, I have absolutely no confidence that I'd be able to translate better by any means, but I do think the shape of the poem should be taken into consideration when translating poetry, not just the meaning, tone, flow and mood. I think these factors further bring to light why poetry translation is so difficult, though not impossible. 

9/28

 You know, I thought translating regular japanese literature was difficult enough. I don't even want to imagine the difficulty of attempting to translate japanese poetry. In a sense, if you're attempting to translate a poem, you must write a new poem that conveys all of the meaning that the original version had, with an equivalent 'performance', or 'voice' as Pulvers puts it.  The difference between this and regular old literary translation is huge. Sure, when translating something from a novel, there are certain artistic steps to be taken to make sure the work maintains it's rhythm and flow, but the most important step, I think, is to convey the meaning from the original. Conversely with poetry, Beichman says, "if you think translation is producing clones, or reproducing the original in another language, then it's not possible". The translator must take on the role of a sort of "shape-shifter", bending "the poem to the requirements of the target language...but not so radically that its original alien nature is forgotten".  I'd say I pretty much agree with that statement, and is probably how I'd go about translating poetry. However, Being someone who's never had an interest in poetry, even though I was forced to spend countless hours analysing it in highschool,  I wouldn't dare try and translate a poem from Japanese. I think the result would be so horribly butchered from my lack of ability to derive metaphorical meaning and spiritual significance from virtually any written text that it'd no longer be considered a poem once it went through the "worm-hole" of my brain into the English language. At least, that's just my opinion.

9/28 Reading Comments - Glenn Ee

 

I think while popular opinion among people unfamiliar with the subject is that translation is just mechanical selection of words that mean the same thing, reading about poetry translation really drives home the fact that in some sense, a translation is very much written by the translator, as opposed to the author of the source text. Both of the readings this week disagree with Robert Frost’s rather extreme statement that “Poetry is what is lost in translation,” but instead relate the liberties that sometimes need to be taken with the source text in order to preserve the poetic quality of the original. In this way, we really do get to understand that the translator must have just as a strong sense for the rhythm and flow of the target language as the original author had of the source language.

One point I did find particularly interesting was Beichman’s treatment of form when translating Yosano Akiko’s tanka, poems with the traditional 5-7-5-7-7 structure. I think translating it to free verse is certainly a valid choice, and I thought her translations were very effective, but there are certainly poems in English where the form is an integral part of how they are constructed. Of course, keeping the exact same structure of 5-7-5-7-7 often does not work in English, but her mention of Seidensticker’s opinion presented a notable but challenging choice. Seidensticker maintained that the equivalent was iambic pentameter, and I wonder how he came to that conclusion. It’s definitely a topic that I might like to explore in more detail.

Reading Comments - 9/28

     There is much at work when one is translating poetry. It is not a surprise to find out that poetry can be extremely difficult to translate from one language to another considering poetry requires a lot of thought and insight to even make. Something that both Pulvers and Beichman mention is that the poetry translated are not carbon copies but rather recreations of the poem suitable to the respective language. Beichman goes over various qualities and decisions that translators, themselves and others, make while translating from one language to another. Each language has their own mechanics, literary devices, sounds, rhythms etc. The translator must not only understand the meaning behind the poem, but also how all such things previously mentioned are being used by the author. Understanding all this, the translator does not necessarily have to directly copy the poem, but recreate it in such as sense that may capture the original in a different way. There is the obvious such as editing a few words or choosing others to have better flow or alliteration, but there are also decisions such as Beichman's translations of Yosano Akiko that overall physically change how the reader views the poem. All in all, the mastery that a translator must have to recreate a poem in another language is outstanding.

 I gotta admit: I know and care very little about poetry: even in my own language. I find them hard to understand and I am just not type of a person who appreciates this kind of thing. Although, the process of translating poetry and examples given in the articles are really interesting and make me appreciate the process better.

It's mentioned in both articles that translating poetry, as in producing a clone of it in different language, is impossible. This is even more complicated than translating prose, since producing a clone might work but will stop working when difference in languages and cultures prevent it. In the case of poetry, tone and rhythm is everything, so I find it even harder to translate poetry and appreciate many examples in both articles; for example, changing of words from "spare" to "hoarded" to capture the feeling of the poem better. 

I like the example of translation of "Ame ni mo makezu" the most. Since the original uses the parallel of rain, wind, and snow to create flow. It's hard to do that in English so the translator uses the word 'strong' to create parallelism instead. It's really an apparent example of how translation of poetry should work and even I, who knows little about poetry, can understand

Reading Comments on Poetry

 I think it is so interesting to see how much is changed in the translation of poetry from one language to another. In such different languages as Japanese and English, it really is difficult to capture the same style and expressions of the original. But I think it is very true that in translation, the result is not a copy of the original, but a recreation. I think saying that poetry is lost in translation is too easy to claim, and from there begs the question of if its worth it to translate at all. That would result in a lot less literature to enjoy, though. I think both articles really made it clear that when you fall in love with a poem or a text, you seek to recreate it in your target language. It is something that I think will be original from the source, but that doesn't make it less worth reading. 

9/28 Reading Comments

 In school we've done really short haikus, but I've never gotten the opportunity to study the translation of poetry before. I really, really enjoyed both Ame Ni Mo Makezu and Pulver's translation. Although I had difficulty reading the original, I was still able to feel the same emotions from both versions, and I thought the poem was really moving. Something that Pulvers said really stuck with me: Distancing yourself from the syntax of the original may be the way to get closest to that original. When I read this, maybe this is childish of me, but I thought of that arts and craft project that you do in school, where you're given a drawing or a paper, and you have to rip it up, and use those pieces to make your own picture. 

I also loved how this one writer says that Japanese is her ふるさと, and that when you translate, you want to bring poems home. I think that sentiment applies to any aspect of culture whenever you experience something different than what you know. These articles are continuing to open my eyes to the nature and the challenges with translation. 

9/28 Reading Comments

     Although I never considered myself to be a poetry person, I found this week’s readings to be very interesting. Before I read the readings by Beichman and Pulvers, I was under the impression that poetry was easier to translate, because it is generally shorter than stories or books. However, after reading the two texts, I understood how difficult it is to translate poetry because there is no one rule that translators can follow. Japanese words, especially in poetry, can be extremely to find their exact English counterparts. Although a word might have a literal translation in English, this does not mean it is appropriate in the context of the phrase. This proves that translation can be considered a very broad concept; although it might seem black and white, there is much room given to the translator. 

    I agreed with how Beichman discussed the importance of choosing the correct words. He stated that the choice to add words, or the choice to exclude words from the original text is essential, as this can make or break a text. I thought that it was very impressive when Beichman discussed the importance of sound while translating poetry. This is very important because sound and rhythm are important in reading poetry, and this same sound and rhythm must be translated identically in a different language. I was impressed with the translation of Kojiki, as the translation maintained a similar rhythm and sound as the original version in Japanese, although words were both included and excluded. Although the translation of this poem was not completely word-for-word accurate, it was successful in conveying the same energy as the original text. 

Emily Bian - sept 28th

 The two texts assigned this week gave me a lot of insight on translating poetry. I originally assumed that translating poetry is one of the hardest thing for a translator to do. Both Pulvers and Beichman ran into very unique problems with each poem that they translated. This made me realize that when it comes to poetry, there is no set of rule that's one-size-fits-all. When Beichman was trying to decide if he wanted to follow the traditional tanka form when he translated a tanka, Beichman said "There was, that is, no need to make a choice; one could use the number of lines that worked best for each poem.". I agree with this thought. There are situations where following the number of syllables per line would make a translated poem with great flow, and there are situations where following the same rule would make the translation awkward and unreadable. 

Another interesting idea that I read from Beichman was when he was translainting Akiko's poems on the plane, and he had forgotten to bring the original Japanese text. I think that trying to reconstruct Japanese texts from your own translations is a great way of checking if your translation is lacking in certain areas. When I'm translating, found it easy to forget that my audience is not going to have both the translation and original side by side, reading both with the same fluidity. Therefore trying to reconstruct the original text from the translation is actually the perfect way to check if the translation is lacking because only then are you really inside your audience's mindset.

9/28 Reading Comments

    Reading these 2 texts really puts into perspective just how difficult it is to translate between two languages where things such as syllables, nuances, and grammar structure greatly vary. Translators must not only maintain the textual correctness of the original, but also effectively assimilate the original into a recreation of it in their own language as described by Pulvers. I think this especially applies to specially formatted poems such as Haikus or Tankas where an emphasis is put on rhythm and structure. It is particularly difficult considering that there is no guarantee that any two equivalent words in the 2 languages have the same amount of syllables, same nuance, or even contribute rhythmically the same way. 

    That is why I found Pulver's approach to translating poetry quite interesting: Translators must be well acquainted with the context of the original poem, and through the use of technical creative skills, reformat the content in accordance to their own language's set of rules. Taking a look at "Ame ni mo makezu", Pulver distances himself from the syntax of the original and instead focuses more on the focal words of rain, wind, and snow. The repetition of "Strong in the ___" preserves the rhythmic integrity of the original. One thing that Miyazawa does do in the poem is only revealing the subject of the poem at the last line. I believe that if a translator decided to include the subject prior to the last line, it would harm both the rhythm of the poem and the sense of closure that a reader would receive as briefly mentioned by Beichman.

    The text by Beichman discussed in detail the impact the inclusion or exclusion of a couple words could make. Though I'm not sure if I agree with Keene's changing of "spare" to "hoarded" in his translation of "My Songs", I do agree with the alteration of changing "my soul has no gills" to "my soul swims without gills". The alteration provides a more active description of the author's soul. As a reader, I'm more easily able to draw a parallel between that line to the imagery of a fish as opposed to the other. I don't think that vivid and concrete imagery is necessarily better when it comes to translation, though. It is more important to maintain the original rhythm and context/feel of a poem. However, if vivid and concrete imagery were able to be included without impacting the rhythm and feel, I think that it would be better to include them.

9/28 Reading Comments- Sarah Watanabe

    Although logically I knew that poetry was translated, it still surprised me to read about translators who actually translate poetry. Translators often lament over the inevitable trade off that one must sacrifice some element of the original. Because of this, it seems that translating poetry is impossible because every element is so crucial and both meaning and tone is essential to both understanding and the emotion that a poem conveys. However, Pulvers discusses that the meaning must be understood and reconstructed, not replicated. This led me to think that if one is really recreating, though dependent on how much actually becomes changed due to translation, how much of the translated poem is actually the translator's rather than the author. As discussed in previous readings, it seems that the translator's job is not to upstage or revise too much of the original. 

    I am especially impressed with translators who translate some of the more special forms of Japanese poetry such as the haiku and the tanka, especially some of the more historic and significant pieces. The rhythm is an essential part of such poems and it seems that in many cases the equivalent word doesn't have the same length, tone, or feel. For historic poetry, it reminded me of a previous discussion in class and made me curious whether translators would consider the age of a piece and its equivalency to the language they are translating to. For example, some translations I have read poems from the Kojiki seem to focus more on conveying meaning but do not attempt to recreate it in historically accurate English. I suspect this is likely due to the fact that it would make it harder for people to understand and that is an important part of translation but I am curious to know if that is something that is considered by translators.

9/21 Comments

     I found Seidensticker's lecture interesting in that he points out an important theme in translation that is often difficult and is really a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" type of scenario: Proper names, or more broadly put, cultural context. Seidensticker points this out in the context of proper names where critics often count the number in the original text and translation and are discontent when the numbers don't match up. On the other hand, if one spent the time to explain each and every proper name, the rhythm of the literature is more than likely ruined. I think this is really difficult to balance, and there really is no right answer; people will find problems with the translation either way. I'd never really considered this conundrum, mostly due to being bilingual and having a decent insight to proper names thanks to having grown up with both American and Japanese culture, but I realize it's something immensely difficult. Even when we translated Croquette, I immediately knew who サザン was referring to even if it's a nickname because of the immense popularity of サザンオールスターズ in Japan. いとしのエリー is of course one of their most famous songs next to TSUNAMI and I don't think it's farfetched to say that anyone in Japan would know Southern All Stars and have at least heard the two pieces (there's also the fact that Keisuke Kuwata, the main singer of Southern All Stars, has quite a unique personality and a easily distinguishable husky singing voice). But I think now that it most likely isn't obvious to those in the States, even if learning Japanese, something that I was pretty oblivious to. 

    I found a similar connection in "Eight Ways to Translate You" when in comes to the connotations of each word for "you" and even "I" in the Japanese language. Perhaps it's not the best thing to judge people purely based on the pronouns they use, but I find that it happens subconsciously. There's the normal "you" like kimi and anata [anta], the anime/entertainment centered (aka the rude ones) kisama, teme, omae as well as the out of date pronouns that are rather funny to hear like nanji, sonata, soregashi, otaku. Each way of saying you has a different taste to it and I'm tuned to it in a subconscious manner that's a little hard to describe. But I'm sure it's also difficult for people learning the language. Thankfully, "you" isn't said that often, but considering the numerous ways to say "I" and the comparatively frequent usage of first person pronouns, I'm sure it's a difficult task.

9/21

 

    Really I quite enjoyed both of these readings, once again. I found Cathy Hirano's especially interesting, though. In particular, I felt that the way she described English and Japanese were spot on with my own intuition in terms of how I felt they worked. She says that "in English we stress clarity, in Japanese subtlety is preferred". Basically, the Japanese writer implies what he means without saying it out right, and the English author is more direct. In a lot of cases when trying to speak or translate English into Japanese, I find it to be incredibly difficult to rework my way of speaking to be less "specific" about things. I say that in quotes because it seems to me in English (although, I could easily be wrong), there's more description available at hand due to the sheer amount of adjectives, whereas in Japanese, it seems that precise description comes with compound words or little nuances of the language, such as the 'Eight Ways to Say You'. 

    Edward Seidensticker's approach to translation seemed interesting, especially when he described the job of a translator to be that of a 'counterfeiter'. With his approach to translation, he says that a translator 'must reproduce every detail of [the] original to the best of his ability, not changing anything'. He's also incredibly concerned about maintaining the rhythm of the work between the two languages, understandably. This seems to be quite different from how Cathy Hirano approaches translation, as it seems that she's often open willing to reworking entire areas of the text to better suit the intended audience. He also talks about how sometimes, there just isn't a great solution for a translation, due to the difference in the two languages. He talked about how two of the first sentence's in Snow Country had been endlessly criticised by Japanese readers. Specifically, in the second sentence, they complain that he gave a subject, being 'the train'. Without this, he says rightly, it just wouldn't make sense in English. There's some scenarios where you just have to go with what works in the language, I guess.

9/21 Reading Comments - Zoe Chock

I really enjoyed Cathy Hirano's piece. It was an interesting perspective not only to hear what she thought about her work, but also how her son, someone fluent in both English and Japanese, was able to thoroughly enjoy her translation. Translating is much harder than it appears- I didn't realize the extent of which the translator is constantly seeking the right words to convey not only the direct meanings of sentences, but also the subtle nuances that don't exactly translate from one language to another. Especially with her example about the Japanese humor, I realized that translators have to think about what references or icons different audiences will understand, and how to bring that same comedy over the language barrier. One thing that she mentioned really stuck with me, and that's how she mentioned that the English flow if pictured, is somewhat linear, and the Japanese flow somewhat circular. It makes a little more sense now why I can't always follow Japanese sentences as smoothly as English ones. She also mentioned that there is a very fine line between translating and tampering with the original text. As I've learned after doing the first translation for this class, it is much harder said than done, and I've realized that adding words for the purpose of context doesn't always translate into adding for clarity. 

Seidensticker's interview was also really eye-opening to the critical side of translation. I didn't realize that just two of his sentences of Kawabata's Snow Country would receive so much hate from Japanese readers. I think I do understand Seidensticker's reasoning though, that he thought to pay attention to rhyme and rhythm in English to help the flow, but I guess it doesn't always translate well to leave some words out. It sounds frustrating that as a translator, if you're working with someone like Kawabata who doesn't say more than is necessary, that you'll be unclear for some of the passages you have to translate. But thinking about how he put thought into using each word for a specific purpose without wasting space is very admirable. It was interesting though, to hear that Seidensticker thought of Kawabata as a better writer, even though he liked Kafu's works more. 

9/21 Reading Comments

 After reading Cathy Hirano’s text, I can say that I agree with all her points. Firstly, the grammar is of course the first issue that anyone who tries to learn any language will encounter, even more so with Japanese since it is so drastically different from English. The most important points for translators she mentions though are the cultural ones. What she mentions about juku is very important since it is of course something we don’t really do here in America. In order to give Western viewers as close to an authentic experience to the original text, you don’t want to make the reader feel like they are reading a wiki page if footnotes are used, or if descriptions are awkwardly added in. That’s why I believe how she added the description to juku was great since it felt natural and as if it were intended to the original text. Lastly, humor is something that I have experienced while seeing Japanese dramas and anime. Oftentimes the translators add some sub notes explaining the cultural context to a joke or phase. In literature, it must be much harder however since a whole new similar joke must be made or reworked in such a way that makes sense in a Western context. Overall, all these points are very valid. Seidensticker also spoke of some of these concepts, specifically the ambiguity and culturally specific words of the Japanese language, but the passage was more oriented on the experience of what it was like to translate. One thing he spoke of was the difficulties of keeping it to the original. For one, I found it interesting that the editors would tell the translator to remove any ambiguity. He spoke of how this could remove the original intentions of the author. Although, the example he gave was just a result of Japanese tendency to drop the subject. Furthermore, the comparison of translators and counterfeiters was an analogy I really liked. I can definitely see this becoming an issue since you have the power to make a text sound more pretty right at your fingertips. Even though we have only done 2 translations so far, I am already worried I will change it too much. Lastly, he spoke of rhythm. This is something also mentioned in the other reading when adding a description to give reading a cultural context. As he said in his anecdote, it could cause some repercussions if it is prioritized. Some details that are considered important that you are unaware of could be left out. The insight Seidensticker provided through his experiences were quite helpful.

9/21 Reading Comments - Glenn Ee

 

Something I thought was particularly interesting was Seidensticker’s mention of how he thinks that a translation that improves on its source work is not a good translation – or at the very least, not as good as one that manages to convey even the flaws of the original. Certainly, the example problem he brings up of ambiguity is a big one, with Japanese being an (in)famously context-sensitive language, but it also makes me wonder what else would be considered a writing flaw, and how you would convey that in the target language. If you even could, of course – he did mention that editors would be likely to stonewall anything they thought of as bad prose, even if it were intentional. I think it’s also interesting how a translation that a monolingual speaker would consider the worse one could be more faithful, and so may very well be one that is (according to this view) superior.

I think it’s also interesting how he clearly feels that a key point when translating is preserving the rhythm of the original work. I think he is drawing particular attention to a more localised sense of rhythm, in terms of how individual passages flow, but it does make me think of how the Hirano reading from this week (and to some extent, the Murakami readings from last week) discusses adding passages to the translation. The short descriptions mentioned are, of course, brief, but I do wonder how they affect the rhythm of the translation, which I suppose only serves to highlight Seidensticker’s point that translators are always making choices, none of which may seem fully adequate.

9/21 Reading Comments

I thought the readings this week were quite useful in providing more insight on whether there is ever only one objectively correct way to translate an original work, and perhaps compromises or even slight alterations to the original meaning should be allowed. The text by Hirano, the part where she talks about the compromise of replacing Tokugawa Ieyasu with Buddha, I found to be particularly interesting. Translators have to take into consideration the significance of culturally or historically infused objects, phrases, etc. If no satisfactory direct translation is producible, the translator must supplement the expression with another of a more neutral background, all whilst maintaining the integrity of the original work.

This also relates to Seidensticker's reply to one of the Q&A questions that I found to be quite interesting. Although some translators believe that texts should be faithfully translated sentence by sentence, "and when you come to a period in the original, you come to a period in a translation", Seidensticker believes that transposition of entire sentences within a paragraph, as long as the result is satisfactory, should be permitted. Although I'm not sure if there has been any opportunity to do so in the past 2 texts that we've had to translate, so far I've done the translations sentence by sentence. It might be helpful to keep in mind that this method is an available tool if the text appears to be too difficult to translate while also preserving the meaning of the text, and maintaining a proper rhythm as described by Seidensticker.

9/21 Reading - Ulises B

 In "Eight Ways to Say You," I learned more of what it means to be a translator. "Wheras in English we stress clarity, in Japanese subtlety is preferred." This much I agree with, and Cathy Hirano argues that it is difficult to translate the differences in writing styles. The most important lesson Hirano gave was that there is a clear line between translating and rewriting the original text. I often thought that some things could be changed when translating, and yes, there can be some minor changes, but keeping to the original text is extremely important. Hirano states that if you want to change something, you need the author's permission. But what if the author is dead? I'm not sure, but Edward Seidensticker stated that Japanese critics will always go after translators for the smallest things, such as not mentioning the same number of proper nouns, which seems absurd. The quality of a translation should not be based off of whether a translator included the same number of proper nouns. I really loved Hirano's statements "author comes first," "author is always right," and "it is dangerous to assume that I understand." It makes me try to understand where translators are coming from, and what their purpose in translating a text is. A translator should never overshadow the author, and as Seidensticker stated, being told that a translator's work is better than the original is NOT a compliment. I never thought of the troubles of translating a joke until I saw Hirano's explanation of a scene in The Friends. Few Americans would know who Tokugawa Ieyasu is, so it makes sense to change the character to Buddha. I really found Seidensticker's comment on editors to be humorous. Editors are a nagging presence he says, because they "won't let you be faithful." I'd like to see more examples of how editors prevent translators from being faithful. I also enjoyed Seidensticker's analogy to the $1 dollar bill. People wouldn't prettify George Washington, they would keep the same warts he has on the original, or else the counterfeit wouldn't be acceptable. Therefore, translators should make sure to include the details, but not prettify the text.

９・２１blog - Emily Bian

 I found the contrast between translators in this week's readings very interesting. Hirano is a translator who mainly works with young adult and children's readings, while Seidensticker is a translator who works with pieces that are more target towards literary scholars. Although they translate texts that are extremely different from each other, I found it interesting how they both basically run into the same problems. They both have problems deciding whether or not they should keep the author's original intentions or translate as literally as possible.

    With that being said, there were some differences that I didn't even think of. I thought that it was really interesting to read how Seidensticker translated classical Shakespeare texts where the number of syllables per line mattered in the translation. It wasn't something that I had even thought of when I'm thinking about translation. 

    Personally, I thought the challenges that Hirano runs into are very similar to the problems that I run into while translating. For example, in the most recent translation, the line "I have a light fever." was one of the instances where the Japanese sentence carried an implication that couldn't be properly translated in English. Apart from translation, I also thought that the book Hirano talks about "the friends" sounds very interesting, and I would love to read it if I get the chance to. 

9/21 Reading Comments

     I thought that it was very interesting how Siedensticker talked about certain difficulties while translating. I especially liked how he talked about editors and how it is difficult to work with them. In the interview, he says that editors hate ambiguity, and they want translators to “say what they mean.” He then goes on to explain how 100% clarity can be very difficult while translating, because some writers (like Kawabata) do not write straight to the point, and instead of giving a similarly murky translation, the translator must be clear. I also agree with Siedensticker’s opinion on this, because although a translation would ideally be direct and understandable, I think that the translation should mirror the original piece to be completely accurate. I also agree with his other argument that to effectively translate, one must choose between two choices while staying accurate to the text. 

    In Cathy Hirano’s writing, she also discusses difficulties in translating from Japanese to English. I agree with both Siedensticker and Hirano, as when I’m translating, I find myself struggling to find certain English words for a Japanese word. Japanese words can have many meanings, and it can be difficult to find the correct words in English to effectively convey the message. I thought that the example of "juku" was perfect, as it would be difficult for American readers to understand the concept of "juku". Although readers might understand that "juku" is a type of school after normal school hours, I would find it hard to imagine that they would understand it in the correct cultural context, as "juku" is a normal part of many students’ lives in Japan, but is uncommon here.

9/21 Reading Comments: Sarah Watanabe

    I found Siedensticker's commitment to the original text as much as possible to be interesting, especially in his comparison of translators to counterfeiters. Although I really relate to his point about how often translating is about choosing between two unsatisfactory choices because something must be lost, I also found his adamancy about not upstaging the author to be interesting. This does make sense because the job of the translator is to remain faithful to the text and convey the message to a different audience. However, as discussed in Hirano's piece regarding how some things must be added, removed, or changed in order for the message to make any sense for the new audience, I found Siedensticker's commitment to accuracy to be interesting. Although it's hard to say who is right and it may be different depending on the situation, I think this goes back to the idea of choosing between two unsatisfactory possibilities as every translation is a tradeoff, requiring some sort of sacrifice of an element. 

    Both readings touch upon the idea that in many cases, one Japanese word can have many nuanced meanings which a direct translation of the word into English cannot capture. I feel it likely the same translating from English to Japanese as well but the levels of formality in Japanese likely complicate the task further. I also found it particularly interesting how honest Siedensticker was about the authors he translates as well as the editors. He is very blunt in describing Kawabata's writing style and that surprised me as I did not expect him to call out his bad writing at times. I figured most translators would be kinder to the authors they are working with, especially as he himself had just stated that his job was to remain faithful to the original author. 

9/21 Readings comments: Tong

Any written pieces that require knowledge of culture of original language are hard to translate, especially when languages and cultures are very different to begin with, like English and Japanese. The example of juku the author gives in the article "Eight Ways to Say You: The Challenges of Translation" is indeed interesting. The concept of juku would alienate English reader so much that an extra paragraph to explain what it feels. Direct translation to "cram school" wouldn't work either. However, being in Thailand where a concept of juku exists and matches the Japanese's, I instantly understand what a juku means and feels, and translating this piece into Thai wouldn't require an extra paragraph or even a footnote to explain. It really emphasizes the point of the article that translation is not a mechanical process of having a dictionary translating word in one language into another. 

I also really like the point made in the other article that translators are always aware that many translations they choose among a pool of choices will not ever be a "perfect solution." Like when we had a discussion about what to translate for 若い女の子 in "Korokke" or whether we should write the title in singular or plural. Every suggestion we made in class indeed "works" but I'm sure none of us feel like the choice they made really are a "perfect solution" for that situation

Questions for "Eight Ways to Say You" Hirano

 1) On page 64, Hirano notes that direct translations from English to Japanese often comes across as "crude and abrasive, insulting the reader's intelligence with their bluntness" and the opposite often comes across as "frustrating to read...childish, and without any point or conclusive ending." Should the meaning of the text be preserved even with these shortcomings or do you think it's perhaps more important to maintain readability for the audience even at the expense of lost meaning? 

2) Do you think there are times where it's appropriate for a translator to insert their own words when, say, explaining something like juku or "cram school" or should a translated focus more on maintaining the author's voice? Would this depend on the translated text's audience? Is there a way to strike a healthy balance between context and the author's voice?

3) Just like how there are many different ways to say "you", there are many, if not more ways to say "I". What are some ways to say "I" in Japanese (4-5) and what information do they convey? How would you go about using said information in your translations? 

Reading Comments and Questions: Edward Siedensticker On Nagai Kafu and Kawabata Yasunari

 Comments

    I understood the difficulties that Siedensticker talked about in this interview. There are many times in translation where you must make difficult decisions, which will affect the outcome of the novel. I think it is was also very interesting how he included the perspective of translating English into Japanese. There have been quite a few instances while translating where the Japanese is either very long, or very short and it somehow has to be rendered in the opposite way to make sense in English. 

Questions: 

1. He considers translators as counterfeiters, trying to copy the original as much as possible. As a translator, he says, you make choices which are often between two unsatisfactory possibilities. Do you think it is possible to arrive at a perfect translation, and if yes, what would render it so?

2. Siedensticker considers Kawabata's writing style as obscure. He even goes on to mention that he thinks some problems he comes across in translating are the result of bad writing. Do you think in these instances that it is more important to remain faithful to the original text, or make the translation more understandable for the target audience and is this then a good translation or a bad one?

3. He also mentions the addition of the subject of the train in once sentence. There is also the case that Kawabata is a writer of few words, however Siedensticker translates 思う forty-five different ways. So in regards to accommodating the audience, how much should be added and does style play the same role in Japanese literature as it does in English/Western literature?

9/14 Reading Comments: Tong

 I found the readings enjoyable, especially the point that translators' aim is to work in shadows and work as a bridge to convey the message of the original author across the wall of languages to the readers. I agree that the original messages of the author should be the messages to be gotten across, not the messages of the translators themselves, which is the point that every translator should be looking out for. Even though different translators have different styles of conveying the messages, at the end of the day, those messages should mean and feel the same way, in my opinion.

I also really like the part where the translators comment about Japanese language structure, where the verb is at the end of the sentence, could make it very tricky to translate into English when the verb works as a punchline of the sentence. It makes me appreciate how creative translators have to be when they translate between languages that work significantly different like English and Japanese.

9/14/2020 : Comments

I found Lesser's attachment to Birnbaum interesting in that it seemed to me that she was almost reading Murakami's works for the Birnbaum translations. She seems extremely drawn to his style of translation, which I felt ironic considering she begins by talking about how translators are like shadows and that there's a careful balance between expressing the original author's voice and letting your own slip through. I especially found a connection with Lesser's attachment to Birnbaum because of my love of Japanese voice actors, who in some ways are like translators in that there's a careful balance between playing a character and retaining your own voice. So while I found myself a little miffed by Lesser's rejection of Rubin (probably because I've now met him and therefore have some bias), I found myself understanding of Lesser's preference for one translator, just as I have my preference for some voice actors

For the second piece, one part that especially stuck out to me was how J. Philip Gabriel translated 猫の手も借りたい. I think it's both genius and humorous to incorporate a paw pun given the context of the story. I also found it cool that Gabriel had the opportunity to reach out to Murakami himself and actually discuss translation with him. 

I think it's stunning to see just how differently people perceive Murakami in Japan and elsewhere. For me, Murakami was always just a "popular author" who my father adored and my mother didn't like. I knew he was well known and just thought that was how it was everywhere; I didn't think that his perception was different in Japan. I think it's interesting too to note that the order in which books are published so heavily influences an author's audience. 

When I read the fourth article, my first thought was "I admire his work ethic," and as I read further, I found myself agreeing with his point about how difficult it is to translate puns and suffixes. When I translate my own Japanese short stories to English (or vice versa) I always find that portion difficult to translate, especially when it comes to casual / formal speech between friends. I hope this class will help me for when I go back to translating since I'd like to improve it. 

PS: Sorry for the late submission! I completely forgot to write comments. 

9/14 Reading Comments - Ulises

The readings this week were informative because they gave the perspectives of different translators via the interviews, and also showed how one translator's interpretation can differ from another's. In the "How Haruki Murakami's '1984' Was Translated into English" article, I found it interesting that Philip Gabriel translated only four pages per day aka 80 pages per month. I wonder if he has a regular work schedule. He also discussed the intricacies of translating suffixes (-san and -kun), and I would like to see cases in which it was difficult to determine the level of intimacy between two characters. Also, many of the articles mentioned the fact that translating Japanese into English is like "giving away the punch line" because Japanese verbs are at the end of the sentence whereas after a subject in English. I never thought of it that way, but I'll definitely take this into account when translating.

In "Lesser Mysteries of Translation," I learned that a translator should never overpower the voice of the source author. It reminded me of Marie Kondo's translator, who never tried to overpower Kondo. Regarding the differing translations between Birnbaum and Jay Rubin, I actually prefer Birnbaum's translation because Rubin's sounds robotic in the sense that it sounds too perfectly translated. Birnbaum makes me feel the emotion Murakami couldn't express in English, so I was very surprised to read that Murakami actually tried to stop working with Birnbaum. In the "Found in Translation" reading, I agree that translating puns is extremely difficult not only in Japanese but any language. In the interview with Emmerich, I found it interesting how he stated that if Murakami had released his novels in a different order, starting with 1Q84, for example, would have prevented him from reaching the level of success he has today. Granted, I started 1Q84, and it is seriously long.

9/14 Reading Comments - Edward Chien

     I found that the readings this week provided valuable insight into the process of translating between two vastly different languages, in the capacity of things such as grammar, sentence structure, and nuance. One of the things that struck my as particularly interesting was Philip Gabriel's statement on the difference in sentence structure between Japanese and English; how translation from Japanese to English and the subsequent shift from verbs at the end of the sentence to the beginning, was sort of like giving away the punch line. There is an abundance of small nuances to consider during translation and that is precisely the reason why different translators such as the mentioned Philip Gabriel and Jay Rubin can put forth such varying styles with their translations even though they originate from a single author.

    The interview with Rubin and Gabriel was particularly interesting especially since we were able to take a peek into the mindset of both translators and the strategies employed to face specific challenges. It was sort of alleviating to find out that even professional translators such as the two often face difficulties with communicating the subtleties of an author. Even if having asked for clarification or familiarizing oneself with the author's past works, there is no guarantee that you're providing the "unalloyed original". Though, I did find the strategy described by Jay Rubin to be particularly compelling; to try and see if the translated work evokes the same emotions when reading in your native language as it would in the original language. Overall, the readings this week were quite enjoyable and thought-provoking.

9/14 Reading Comments - Glenn Ee

 

I thought that the readings for this week were very insightful, and provided a much-needed look into the thoughts of professional translators as they go through the process. One of the main things I thought was particularly fascinating was the mention of substantial changes in a translation that were approved or even requested by the author – such as how Kenzaburo Oe asked Philip Gabriel to delete certain passages and even insert new text, or how according to Emmerich, Murakami approved Rubin’s decision to cut over 25,000 words from his translation of 1Q84 (although it is unclear whether these were all minor changes made over the course of an extremely long book, or entire passages cut out completely as with Kenzaburo’s Somersault).

While I think it is fairly clear that the experience of reading a translation will never be precisely the same as reading the work in its original language, I think that these examples truly drive home the point of just how different these two things can be. At the same time, though, it makes me think that one experience is not necessarily inferior to the other, since if the author themselves is the one making the change to their work, who is to say which is the “definitive” version? In fact, doing both might be truly valuable in a way just one or the other is not. I think Lesser touches on this too in her article, where she discusses how reading Pevear and Volokhonsky’s translation of Dostoyevsky allowed her to appreciate his works more. When we read a translation, we are also reading the translator’s interpretation of the text in question, and I think a good translation may be able to communicate this interpretation in ways that we may not have considered otherwise.

Reading Comments for 9/14 (Proddy S.)

 The readings were really enjoyable and insightful. Starting off with the first reading, I was really drawn into one specific phrase mentioned earlier on in the text about how translation can be hard due to the subtleness that is often overlooked. As a Murakami fan, the first thing I thought of were his philosophical themes in his books that are so subtle yet hold so much meaning and it made me see through the eyes of a translator about the difficulties in dissecting those subtle words, meanings, and metaphors in order to still make the story flow while containing the main message. You really have to translate in a way that captures the most atmosphere present in the books/novels. I really liked the idea of picking an author who’s writing style resembles that of the author one is going to translate. It really made me think about how I might approach my future tasks in translation. 

I loved the interview with Rubin and Gabriel especially about the part where they explained how they would translate humor. I find that humor plays a major role in many books in general; therefore, getting an insight to how they derive upon their chosen words for humor was really interesting. Sticking to the story while trying to create puns or words is a challenging task. I read Kafka on the Shore over the summer and as it was introduced as an example in this interview, I found this point really intriguing. Using wordplay that correspond to the cat themes in the story, using “paws” or a wordplay with the word “pause” was something really clever. However, I also view this as moments where translators have to take risks in making decisions with varying opportunity costs. By choosing to stick with a mindset that readers have a basic understanding of Japanese culture it may be better to refer to a lot of Japanese aesthetic and cultural terms, but the opportunity cost of that is the lost in mood and tone of the text if the reader has no basic knowledge on Japanese culture in general. I think this is a matter of give and take as well. 

9/14 reading comments: Emily Bian

 I enjoyed the readings this week, and all the readings gave me insight into behind the scenes of a novel in translation. one of the most interesting part that stood out to me in Gabriel's interview was the debate over skinhead vs buzzcut he had with Rubin and Murakami. Rubin and Gabriel had differing opinions, but ultimately Murakami made the final decision on which word to use. When the author is still alive, translators have the opportunity to ask them questions, but if the author is deceased, there would be no way of knowing which translation is the more accurate choice. 

I think that words and intentions can get diluted and disappear between translators and within time very fast. This is one of the reasons why I generally like to avoid reading translated literature all together. I was kind of relieved when Rubin, an actual translator, said that you really just shouldn't read translated literature. I feel just a little more justified in my unwillingness to read translated works. However, now that I've read many different articles and interviews on the topic, I've adjusted my opinion. I don't think that people should read translated works with the expectation that they're reading the author's words. Because the fact is, they're not. They're reading the translator's words, and the author's words are more of a template for the translator. I think that if I read a book with the expectation that things are going to be different, I feel that I'd be able to enjoy the translator's version of the author's intention much more.

9/14 Translation Readings - Zoe Chock

I really found these readings enjoyable. It was interesting to hear the behind-the scenes work of the translators and what thought processes go towards making a final decision. Especially for Rubin and Gabriel, I found it fascinating that they both had slightly different versions of Murakami's work simply because they had different interpretations of the context. I know translating novels is especially hard since not only are the words put into English, but the translators have to figure out how to also translate the culture. What I found most remarkable was that one of the translators noted that even if the translation is different than the original, as long as it moves you in some way as it would in the native language, then the author's essence is not lost. 

It was also really interesting to read what Lesser, as a reader with a preference for one translating style had to say about the process. I think she noted that author's voices usually get blended with the translator's as the stories evolve, and the final version ends up as something different than what the story sounds like in the native language, but also a different version that the translator wants to convey to a totally different audience. 

I think the only perspective that I would've liked to hear is Murakami's. It would be fascinating to hear what he thinks about his translated works and if they've been able to convey his stories in a way that both caters to that specific audience but also gets his message across. 

Reading Comments: Watanabe 9/14

 These readings were very interesting because it showed the many perspectives regarding the translations of a single author, Haruki Murakami. Of course, it was interesting to hear about the translators’ experiences translating and working with Murakami but I was particularly intrigued by the readers’ responses to these translations. I think intuitively we all know that different translators will translate the same piece in different ways but I never thought too much about the impact it has on the audience. I suppose it makes sense because many people become enamored with certain styles of writing but Wendy Lesser’s strong opinions regarding the translation of Birnbaum made me reconsider the style of the individual translator.

           

            I also found Michael Emmerich’s discussion regarding how translation and timing/order of translated books being released has an impact on reception by a more general audience, particularly with regards to language. I found it very interesting to read that how the Japanese and American audience viewed Murakami and his work was so drastically different. Though this certainly has to do with the cultures and the somewhat unavoidable shift in tone after translation, it was also striking to consider how the order of books released and an author’s reputation has such a large influence on public perception. In many ways, an author gets another chance to see an alternate timeline when they have different books translated in different orders.

Reading Comments: 9/13 マーティン

 

It was pretty interesting reading through all of those articles. Obviously, there can be a lot of nuance that can be hard to communicate when translating from one language to another, but I never really thought much about how different translators can drastically effect the style/overall feeling of a book. I found especially interesting the comparison by Wendy Lesser of  Rubin and Birnbaum's translations. The former's, totally accurate, and surely well translated, but the latter of which flows entirely differently and gives off a completely different feeling, having been written in present tense. It's a stylistic choice, but no doubt one that changes your perception of how Murakami writes as an author. Kind of wish I'd read this stuff before I submitted my コロッケ translation, might have thought a bit differently about it if I had. :/

Something else that I found really surprising was Gabriel's comments about how long it takes him to translate a book. He said he can finish about four pages per day, twenty pages a week, 80 pages a month. I found to be a bit slow,  especially considering he's a native-level Japanese speaker. I guess it just goes to show, there's a lot more thought put into how something like a book is going to be translated, versus how an interpreter, like Marie Kondo's, essentially just has to translate on the fly to the best of her ability.  When you think about it, there's almost certainly a lot of nuance that is going to be lost when something is interpreted versus painstakingly translated (although certain elements will be lost in both cases), as with an interpretation, you just kind of need the bare minimum amount of information to be communicated properly, and you're not necessarily considering the eloquence of your statements.

Another funny interpreter video

Dear Students,
Emily sent me this very funny clip about interpreting from the Comedy Central sketch series, Alternatino. The thing is, this interpreter does a good job in terms of translating correctly and in the first person, but he doesn't realize what NOT to translate.
Enjoy!

If it doesn't play, here is the link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foT9rsHmS24&ab_channel=ComedyCentral