![]() |
[train to Auschwitz] |
Technical translators generally translate, well, technical documents,
whose drama is in the subtext of the document, i.e., how the specific details
are somehow extraordinary. On a few occasions, I have had the opportunity to
translate documents related to the Holocaust. These documents are in most cases
stories of tragedy with some rays of light, storytelling at its simplest and
grimmest. Interestingly, I find these document far more challenging to
translate than any legal or financial document. Yet, despite these
difficulties, I take on these projects as they are important to both past and
present.
I have had the privilege of translating several Holocaust-related
documents. My first serious translation were the memoires of Jewish partisan
from Minsk, Belarussia. I later translated the memoires of a German Jew that was sent
to a camp in the Baltic, who described that particular hell. For several years,
I would translate the requests of Jews submitting requests to Generali, the insurance company, to receive the benefits of insurance of their long-perished
parents. Just this week, I began translating a monograph on a “Righteous among
nations”, a person that helped Jews survive the Germans. Each of these
documents were both historical and personal documents filled with pain and joy.
In practice, translating these tragic narratives might seem rather
straightforward but they are far more complex than any technical document.
First, my source language, whether Hebrew, French or Russian in my cases, was not the
original language of the memoires or, in one case, the native language of the
narrator. Thus, as in all translations of translations, the text lacked elements
of the writer’s voice while the translators down the line added elements.
As a result, it was extremely difficult to be certain of the writer’s way of
expressing and, thus, almost impossible to precisely recreate it in English,
the target language. Second, while literary translators are expert in
identifying stylistic elements and finding their equivalent elements, technical
translators tend to focus on precision with the style a matter of an accepted
standard. As these are both personal and historical documents, both precision
and style are important and unique. Unfortunately, translation suffers to a certain
degree an inherent conflict between faithfulness and beauty. Finally, these
documents are very precious to the people commissioning their translation, who
often have limited budgets. This combination of high expectations and a limited
ability to pay naturally creates a tension. Since the budget does not allow for
the editing framework involved in commercial publication, there can be
dissonance between the expectation and result. Translating holocaust material,
as in all literary work, is a labor of love and challenging.
Yet, I welcome such projects because the stories enrich my understand of
my family’s experience, illustrate human nature and remain so relevant to the
present. To explain, my mother survived the German occupation of France as did
her mother and sister but lost her father and many others in her family. Her
stories and letters from that period show the strength and luck that certain
people had and how they survived against all odds. Her story is mirrored in the
memoirs I translate. On a mixed note, we see how the Holocaust brought out the
best and worst of people. Some people risked to lives to save Jews as a matter
of principle while others willingly participated in murder whether by informing
the authorities or even carrying out the killing. Everybody had a personal
choice just as we have today. As for the relevance of such stories to the
present, evil has become even more banal in current times, to quote Hannah
Arendt. Worldwide, regimes and those that cooperate with them are repressing
and oppressing minorities with greater cruelty than ever, showing no compassion
or empathy. In such tough times, it is important to read about the choices of a
previous generation faced with such choices and educate people that there are
consequences to actions or inertia. I believe that Holocaust documents are far
more than historical records; they are timeless calls to conscience.
Thus, despite the challenges, I choose to take on translation of
Holocaust-era documents. The material, maybe because of its disturbing nature,
enriches my life, my appreciation of human strength and weakness, which
actually gives me hope, and allows me to do something, however small, to fight
those that do not value human life. Contributing to the remembrance of that war
is a call to action in the present.