Je ne sais. Quoi!

[the word "what"*]

One occasional and regrettable challenge for translators is highly ambiguous source texts. Specifically, the text allows for many different interpretations, says nothing or is so busy implying only those in the know can understand. In the first two cases, the solution is relatively simple: ask the source of the article and “elegant garbage in, elegant garbage out”. Examples of these include technical texts written by engineers that never learned how to write and descriptions of art, respectively. The third case is much trickier for the translator as the writer does not want the general public to understand.  The experts of this type of intentional vagueness are lawyers and politicians. Fortunately, in English speaking cases, the Plain English movement has gained influence, forcing English-speaking legislatures and administrations to at least attempt to write clearly, resulting in much clearer laws and government directives. As for politicians, their case is hopeless.

Unfortunately, the movement seems to fear large water barriers, specifically the English Channel and Atlantic Ocean as cryptic writing has even attained official state-of-the-art status in France. As an example, in an article titled « Le profs ensevelis sous le jargon” [The teachers buried under jargon], the French magazine Le Canard enchainé from the February 12, 2020 edition cites the official site of the French Ministry of National Education in regards to the ongoing dispute with the teachers over salaries. I quote [italics in original]:

Le site gouvernemental de “modernisation de l’action publique va plus loin.” Selon lui, les “tiers lieux éducatifs” servent à “faire émerger un patrimoine informationnel commun : mutualiser des outils libres and open source et des dispositifs de documentation est la seule garantie d’une non-enclosure d’une circulation des savoir.” Comme dans les bibliothèques, quoi…

Xavier Marand, secrétaire général adjoint de Snes – première organisation syndicale dans le secondaire -, apporte sa traduction : “Il apparait clairement que la revalorisation salariale sera conditionnée à l’acceptation de nouvelles tâches : coaching d’élèves à distance ou missions de replacement dans les autres lycées, par example. Quant aux 10 milliards promis bar Blanquer sur quinze ans, il n’a pour l’instant mis que 500 millions sur la table pour 2021…”

Chapeau l’artiste !

Translated into English:

The government website for “modernisation of public action goes further.” According to it, “educational third-places [neither home or work]” act to “create a common informational asset: sharing the free and open source tools and information services is the only guarantee of unblocking of a circulation of knowledge.” As they say in the library, what?

Xavier Marand, assistant general secretary of Snes, the leading secondary school union, provides his translation: “It is obvious that that the proper restoration of salaries will be conditional on the acceptance of new tasks: distance coaching of students or replacement assignments in other high schools, for example. In regards to the 10 billion [euro] promised by Blanquer [the minister of National Education], he has only committed 500 million for 2021...”

We take our hat off to the artist!

I do too. I had no idea what the French text actually meant. While a bit extreme, this use of code words combined with the unsaid succeeds in rendering the translation of this text an extremely difficult task, crossing the border into interpretation. By the way, this example should also make it clear why subject knowledge is no less important than language skills in translation. If the translator “does not know” the subject, the customer may end up saying “what?”.

* Help the blind by adding a picture description. Picture credit: Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/GDJ-1086657/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=2730753">Gordon Johnson</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=2730753">Pixabay</a>

Names Matter

To take Hannah Arendt slightly out of context, language not only expresses what feel but determines what we feel.  A prime example is food.  Especially in the modern age when most people don’t raise their one food or often don’t even see a live animal aside the zoo, the source animal and the food on the plate are completely distinct in the people’s mind.  Theoretically and, for some people, practically, the thought of eating that cute rabbit or lamb takes the appetite away.

The culinary solution is to linguistically avoid connection.  The first way is to more accidental and historical than intentional.  Due to class and language issue in Norman English, where the French-speaking Normans enjoyed the “fruit” of the labor of the Anglo-Saxon speaking locals, the animal and derived meat had different names.  Cows, lambs, and pigs produced beef, mutton, and pork, respectively.  To be fair, saying out loud that you would like half of a pound of cow sound today a bit crude.

A more purposeful vocabulary shift is the purposeful development of alternative vocabulary to make certain foods more palatable.  Some examples include venison, sweetbread, tripe, and sausage / hot dog.  In animal terms, that means eating wild meat, generally deer, brain, intestines, and garbage meat in an edible bag, respectively.  As for the latter, how many kids would enjoy a hot dog if they knew what really was in it?

Modern culinary literature, i.e. the art of making it almost it impossible to understand what you are going to order, emphasizes foreign words because they sound exotic and induce no image in diners’ minds  concerning what is the source of their protein.  It sound so adventurous (and accordingly expensive) to eat les fruits de mer, escargots, canard, or calamari, to name a few.  To those who are afraid to ask, those lucky people are about to eat shellfish, snails, duck, and squid.  How delicious!  (Actually, they are in my opinion, but, as they say in French and most languages, chacun á son gout or to each his own).

So, when you go to that fancy restaurant and struggle to understand what exactly you should order (and are afraid to ask, as Woody Allen would say), remember, it is sometimes better to bluff your way and confidently order that mysterious item.  You might discover that brains are really tasty, or maybe not.