Memoir translation – lessons learned

 

I am a technical translator – legal, official and other dry material – as Alice would say. However, I have had the opportunity to translate Holocaust period memoirs at various times in my career and have seen how much I have learned not only about the subject of the texts but about the art of translating such narratives, whether in terms of language, editing or expectations. I also enjoy the added benefit of such projects.

To provide some background, I have translated three Holocaust memoirs in my 22-year translation career. My first paid job was the translation of the memoirs of a Belarusian partisan in Minsk from Russian to English. As it was my first professional project, I prefer not to look at what I did and consider it a “paid apprenticeship”. The story was quite interesting, even shocking. I hope that I somehow managed to transmit that aspect. Several years later, I translated the memoirs of a German Jew that was sent to a labor camp in the Baltic area and survived. Curiously enough, he wrote in French. Again, it was an amazing story but I later learned that the commissioning party was not completely satisfied with my translation. I did not receive any specific feedback, meaning that I cannot judge whether that reaction reflected an objective judgment. Recently, I translated the monograph of a Polish Jew from Hebrew to English. I am happy to report that the translation pleased both the editor and the commissioning party and is about to be published. Live and learn.

My first take from my experience with memoirs is to treat them as a story. The writers were not professional writers. In some cases, they did not write in their native language. Thus, the purpose of the translation is to tell a story, one that the reader wants to read to the end. To do so may involve changing the word or even sentence order. My initial instinct, reinforced by my experience, was to rewrite the story in English and not to cling to the original phrasing, all while expressing the tone of the writer, whether it is ironic, sarcastic, or matter-of-fact. A memoir, unlike legal translation, allows much freedom of expression.

However, this combination of freedom and the need to be seamless, i.e., not sound like a translation, makes having an outside editor an absolute requirement. After hours of processing a text and multiple drafts, a translator loses the objective eye. To produce the polished text, even by the slightly lower standards of a memoir as compared to a novel, at least one other pair of eyes is necessary. Furthermore, the use of digital tools, e.g., Grammarly or AI, is vital in identifying language issues in the text that escape the tired eye of the translator. In the literary world, no translator is an island.

Finally, unlike legal translation, literary translation of any kind is ultimately a labor of love. It involves far more hours and effort than technical translation. There are countless technical questions to research, particularly spellings of names of towns, streets and people, which involves a surprising amount of time. For example, I discovered that, at the time, Belarus had no official English map to guide me in spelling the names of the various villages mentioned in the memoir. Furthermore, as there is no limit to the range of acceptable styles of writing as in many types of technical translation, the translator has to question every sentence several times to be sure that it is the best that it can be, a very time-consuming and exhausting experience. Consequently, just as memoir writers put all their heart into their writing, so the translators of their stories must invest all they have and not count hours. It is clear why literary translators generally do not become rich but are very satisfied with the work.

Last week, the editor informed me that the family of the Polish writer was publishing the book and sent me a picture of the cover (until I receive an actual copy). I was quite pleased and even surprised to see that not only did I receive credit for the translation but my name is on the cover page. There is something to be said for actual public credit for your work. True, translating rental contracts is far more profitable and less intensive. However, the joy of sharing an important story and seeing one’s name on the cover is quite extraordinary. It also shows how much I have learned over my career. I am looking forward to my next memoir translation project.

Pride and prejudice – national identity and presence abroad

 

Being a foreign visitor exposes one’s sense of nationality, eliciting varying reactions depending on country, circumstances and personality. When people become the ambassadors of their country, locals receive them in a manner ranging from “the savior of our nation” to a persona non grata, generally somewhere in between. In response, foreign visitors exhibit a certain pride or lack thereof in their homeland as expressed in their willingness to identify themselves as citizens of that country, speak their national language and talk with pride about their home. Of course, a country is made of individuals, each with his/her manner of speaking. However, certain national tendencies do dominate as I will show in regards to Americans, French and Israelis.

Americans have for many centuries believed that America is the best country in the world and English is the only language one needs. Thus, many Americans speak as loud abroad as they do at home, which is often in extreme contrast with the local low tones, such as in Hungary or Germany. Despite having formally learned a foreign language in high school and, in many cases, being in frequent contact with Spanish speakers, most Americans assume that everybody speaks English. Moreover, they also think that most people think America is a great country. Thus, they speak with pride of their country, albeit a bit diminished for some with the advent of Trump. Americans stick out in terms of language. Moreover, not only do they not hide their origin but they are proud of it.

The French relationship with France is a bit more complicated. Most French deeply believe that the French language and culture are superior even if they recognize that the world doesn’t quite see it that way. As a result of that pride and a generally awful system of teaching foreign languages, the average French citizen cannot get by in English or chooses not to do, with exceptions, of course. When asked, they are proud of being French and extol Gaulic values, mainly food, art and sophistication. On the other hand, when asked about their appreciation of its government and policies, alas, according to many studies, the French are not very patriotic and even sometimes rather embarrassed by the current situation. The self-identification “L'État, c'est moi” attributed to Louis XIV is not a sentiment shared by most current French people. It is wonderful to be French but not a French citizen, apparently.

The relationship between Israel and the world is quite complex. To begin with, many Israelis carry a hidden or not-so-hidden concern about anti-Semitism based on events during a long diaspora and in recent years. This suspicion affects Israelis abroad. True, after 1967, Israel gained such status that Israelis traveled abroad with great pride with locals admiring them. Alas, those Halcyon days are long gone, having been replaced by pro-Palestinian demonstrations and violence and open antisemitism in some places. In terms of language, most Israelis, especially younger ones, are quite proficient in English by international standards and can function quite well in English. Thus, Israelis have a choice to speak English or Hebrew. In regards to national pride, while the level may have dropped due to political differences of opinion in Israel, Israelis are among the most patriotic peoples in the world.

To illustrate the dilemma of being an Israeli abroad, I will recount two anecdotes. In 2010, due to a hurricane on the East Coast of the United States, my wife and I had to take a return flight to Israel which involved a 7-hour wait at the connecting airport in Istanbul. On the day before, the Israelis had intercepted the Mavi Marmara, which had been on its way to bring aid to Gaza, resulting in ten deaths. The Turkish government was not pleased, to put it mildly. As we waited in that airport, we suspected that the government would react by hassling Israelis, which they later actually did. As a result, we sat in a quiet part of the airport, avoided attention and spoke in English. We decided that discretion was the better part of valor. By contrast, we have just returned from Germany and the Czech Republic. We made the conscious decision to speak Hebrew openly. For me, I refused to take on the role of the cowed Jew. By the way, nothing happened. The worst reaction was the failure, intentional or not, of a Turkish restaurant manager to understand our country of origin. I consciously chose, as do many Israelis, not to let fear control my life and did not regret that choice. That choice is not always easy.

Thus, in the face of a foreign culture, every traveler chooses an attitude. Whether it is hide or flaunt their identity depends on the person and country. To a certain degree, this decision reflects the travelers’ relations with their country, language and history. Visitors abroad must deal with pride and prejudice as Jane Austin would say.

Upcoming webinar on writing content posts

 

If you are a translator or interpreter in search of a no-cost (aside from time) method of increasing exposure and building a brand, consider writing content posts. I will present a webinar under the aegis of the ATA (American Translators Association) on the why and how of writing content posts, including the use of AI. You can register through the link: https://www.atanet.org/event/writing-translation-content-posts-the-why-and-how/