Spelling rationales – the challenge of writing English, Hebrew and French

 

Learning how to speak a language is intuitive. With a little bit of effort, courage and humility, it is possible to learn how to speak a language without formally studying it. Every child, regardless of intelligence, learns how to speak to one degree or another of skill. By contrast, writing a language is a great challenge for many people. I personally can attest to my complete insecurity regarding the correct spelling of words in English, Hebrew and French. Yet, I admit that the apparent randomness of a spelling system can reflect historical realities or grammar rules, whose challenges can be overcome with modern computer systems.

Let us begin with the most common language of communication (not necessarily first language), English. Both native and non-native speakers have a litany of complaints about inconsistent connections between letters and sounds. A few examples will suffice: through vs tough; know, low vs women; receive vs weigh; and time vs action. For the uninitiated, there is a higher chance to succeed in blackjack than in English spelling. Some people blame Samuel Johnson in 1755 or maybe Robert Cawdrey before him in 1604 for writing the first dictionaries and creating this chaos. Alas, they are not guilty. Distance creates diversity of pronunciation, even today, and, thus, a lack of predictability. In many parts of the world, listeners immediately can tell where a person grew up just by hearing certain sounds or words. In parts of pre-literacy England and to a certain extent today, people did pronounce those words exactly as they were written, especially the guttural sounds, kn and gh. In fact, in one older English manuscript,  the modern word girl is written ghurl, something that an Arabic speaker or a Scot would have no problem saying. Thus, English spelling is really phonetic but only for some people at some time in history. The rest of us have to memorize it somehow.

Time and distance have also affected Hebrew. In theory, every letter in an alphabet represents a different sound. In ancient Hebrew, each letter was pronounced in a manner distinct from each other. However, in modern Hebrew, many, if not most, Israelis do not generally pronounce the following letters in clearly distinct ways: alef א and ayin ע, an a sound; kuf ק and kof כּ, a k sound; sin שׂ and samech ס, an s sound; tof ת and tet ט, a t sound; het ח  and kof כ, a ch sound. True, eastern (mizhahi) Jews, especially Yemenites, have to a certain extent retained the historical pronunciation differences but people generally do not annunciate the distinctions between the letters. As a result, as an immigrant that arrived in Israel as an adult and never studied the language at school, I am uncertain. Which is happiness and which is wealth, אושר [osher] or עושר [o’sher]?. Did I confuse every and voice in כל קול [kol kol]? Did I write that I need time עת or a pen אט, both pronounced [et]? Which is form and which is grab, טפוס [tofes] or תופס [tofes]? The actual key is to know the root of the word, which indicates the correct letter to be used. While it does increase the odds of a correct guess, not every Israeli, not to mention immigrants, feels absolute certainty when writing Hebrew.

As for French, it seems to me that framers of the language chose ease of speaking over simplicity of writing, plausibly using Latin rules of grammar as the excuse. To explain, it is possible to represent the long a sound, as in the a in the word late in English, in 13 different ways (forgive me if I missed a few). The following words all end in a long a: donner, donnez, donné, donnée, donnés, données, donnais, donnait, donnaient, donnerai, les, abeilles, et and forêt. For non-French speakers, the meanings are to give, you give, given (n), given (f), given (pl), given (f. pl), you gave, he gave, they gave, I will give, the, bees, and and forest, respectively. That is one impressive haul of uses for one sound. The price for such efficiency is, of course, the difficulty in knowing how to write the correct form. Since the establishment of universal schooling in France in 1882, generations of French children have had to work hard to master the rules of grammar required to know when the correct tense endings, when to add the silent e and s to the past participle and which letters are the end of a specific noun. The results, then and now, are far from perfect. Actually, I find French spelling relatively easy because I understand these rules. I find it convenient that they are based on grammar, not history.

Those of us that doubt our spelling, rightly or wrongly, and double-check all words can feel a little bit relieved. Like some exes said, it is not you; it is the language. Spelling has its own logic, one that is unconcerned about mere mortals, whether they are native or non-native speakers. Fortunately, word processing, applications and AI have made it quite convenient to identify and fix any embarrassing errors. These tools do not eliminate the need to actually know the language as you still must choose the right word when two words with different meanings sound the same but are spelled differently, e.g., too vs two in English, but at least, we don’t have to look idiots when we write. We don’t have to feel like idiots either since, while there is a rationale to spelling rules in fact, it is one that often makes no sense to us.

 Do you need an official document translated? See this article: https://lnkd.in/eDB3hsvn

If you are a translator interested in entering the official translation niche, the ATA and I are offering a three-lecture webinar on the field, with the first one just around the corner, on July 30. See the registration: https://lnkd.in/ePQ5PbYv

Bonjour tristesse or beautifully sad stories

 

A story becomes extraordinary when it creates an impact, intellectual or emotional. The sign of such a tale is when it occupies one’s thoughts for days, weeks or even years. The nature and quality of the form is far less important than its essence. For example, one of the strongest feelings a human being can experience is loneliness. Despite its universal nature, it is a difficult state to render into words and images. Three examples of the successful transmission of deep and sad isolation are the books Grey Souls (Les Ames grises), written by Phillippe Claudel and translated into English from French by Hoyt Rogers, and The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James and the Italian movie We all loved each other so much (C'eravamo tanto amati), directed by Ettore Scola. In my experience, each created a haunting feeling that remains in one’s consciousness long after one has forgotten the actual details.

Grey Souls is a story about a small village in France during World War I located within shouting distance of the fighting. The atmosphere is grey not only due to the weather and factory fumes but also from the sadness created by the convoys of wounded soldiers passing through the town and hopelessness of the situation. In this novel, four females of different ages die, each under different circumstances. The novel essentially recounts the impact of these deaths on several individuals, important people in the community, through the eyes of a simple policeman, one of those affected. The writing, at least in translation, is also rather gray, i.e., indirect and amorphous. At the end, the reader learns how and why each of these women died but it is almost irrelevant. The dominant feeling is the loneliness and misery of the men affected by their deaths, a feeling that remains long after the reader finished the book.

Another amazing and sad book is Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady, dating from the late 19^th century. The story is different but the sensation at the end is rather similar. The writer was the brother of William James, known as the “father of American psychology”. His sister was Alice James, a famous diarist of the time. Their impact can be seen in this book. In the story, a young American woman, Isabel Archer, goes to Europe to find a husband as was the practice in certain circles at the time. She attracts quite a few men but rejects all those that would want to marry her for love. Instead, she is attracted to a charming social magnet. By the end of the book, the only pleasure the couple has is hosting parties because they are able to not invite certain people. Her life at the end of the book seems so deeply and irrevocably miserable, a feeling reinforced by the contrast with all the hope and joy of the beginning. It feels like an emotional suicide, one not that far from what real people do.

In other media, the Italian movie We all loved each other so much tells the story of three friends who fought together as partisans during World War II. After the war, each of the men builds his life: one works as a hospital orderly; one becomes a poor teacher and intellectual; and one marries the daughter of a rich industrialist. The final scene is haunting in its starkness. The first two friends, laughing and joking, walk by the large villa owned by the third. They see him swimming by himself in a large pool right after his wife and children walked out on him and keep on walking. The sadness of his isolation and loneliness, amplified by the simple happiness of his two former friends, is hard to forget.

None of these works are easy or even necessarily pleasant. However, they are stories that resonate. They evoke strong feelings, which can be both heavy but also enlightening. As such, they are worthy of note. Françoise Sagan’s Bonjour Tristesse is a story of regret and sadness. These works are so impactful because of the great sadness they evoke but most people have no regret experiencing them. Exceptional art can and maybe should express strong emotion.

Freelancers, price negotiations and opportunity cost – a resulting tale

 

Freelancers set their own prices and must, therefore, negotiate them. Many customers, especially from the Middle and Far East, relish price haggling and practice it at every opportunity. This face-off presents the entrepreneur with a set of choices, namely if and how much to bend. Yet, in deciding how much to handle these negotiations, many solo businesspeople forget the impact of opportunity cost, a factor that cannot be ignored. I will share my experience dealing with this situation, a positive one I am happy to say, and my analysis of the potential outcomes.

To begin, it is important to define the term opportunity cost. The basis is the assumption, generally true of freelance work, that a person working on Project 1 at a specific moment cannot take on Project 2 at the exact same time, i.e., the cost of taking on Project 1 is the inability to accept Project 2. This cost is most noticeable on larger projects that require many hours or several days to complete. Its verbal expression is the outcry “Why did I agree to this job? Now, I can’t take on that project!” Of course, in some cases, it is possible to work almost simultaneously on two different projects or outsource one of them. Even more importantly, the cost is only potential as it is generally impossible to know if and when a better project will arrive in your email. Thus, opportunity cost can be high, but it is uncertain.

This week, an established customer contacted me about certified translation of some 7 personal documents from Hebrew to English. I provided a quote, which was immediately followed by a significantly lower counteroffer. I made a small concession to no avail. The next day, the customer sent me an amended package, 4 of the 7 documents. The result was the same, but without any concession to price on my part. The following day, the customer informed me that it had found another service provider. All this correspondence took almost an hour. Most curiously, several hours later, a new customer contacted me with an interesting new project, a certified translation of a Russian-English asylum request, and immediately agreed to the quoted price and deadline. The invoiced amount was much higher with very few additional hours. On this occasion, I came out ahead in all respects.

In terms of odds,  a positive result is highly probable in this situation. If the customer refuses to compromise and I lose the order, my maximum potential loss is a small amount of income and future business. Neither the insistence nor the loss of the customer is certain. It is quite possible that this buyer will return to me. Meanwhile, I may and did gain a new customer and quality project, which is far more valuable separately and together than the original project. If no new project appears in the immediate timeframe, I lose a small amount of business but I can use that time for alternative activities, e.g., marketing, physical exercise, viewing webinars or watching Wimbledon, each valuable in its own way. Thus, standing firm on prices requires faith but is often the correct strategy.

Therefore, if faced with the demand for compromise beyond their point of comfort, freelancers should remember that every choice carries an opportunity cost. It may help them make the decision that provides the greatest probability of a successful result, however one defines success. As they say in Hebrew, if you are not for yourself, who will be?

Shibboleth – French legal terminology then and now

 

Traditionally, legal language has two purposes: to provide a precise term and to prevent the uninitiated from understanding. The Plain Language movement, at least in English-speaking countries, has somewhat diminished the second tendency to want to confuse the person on the street but that change is far from universal or consistent. As a case in point, Tom West, in his outstanding webinar for the ATA discussed recent changes to the French codes of law, emphasizing terminology. First, I would recommend watching his webinar (through the ATA) if you do legal translation or interpretation in the French/English language pair. On the linguistic front, it was fascinating how the French legal language achieves the desired level of encryption, notably applying vagueness, generality and sheer misleading. Granted, the code reforms have improved the situation in some cases but the examples shed light on the codification of law in both senses of the word.

The first technique is using a general term to describe a specific action. It is similar to saying “kitchen” when you mean to ask someone to turn off the light in the kitchen. One example in French legal terminology is imprévision, which means something unforeseen. In legal language, it refers to the damage caused by an unexpected event not specified in the contract or list of force majeure cases. The English translation is hardship. Another example is that, traditionally, French laws had to meet the standard of bonnes moeurs, literally “good morals”. The new term is ordre public  but the English term is public policy. Finally, the French equivalent of the famous standard of the reasonable person (previously man) is pėre de famille, taken from the Latin term. The term suggests a test of whether a proper father of a  family would take a given action. The French have quite reasonably replaced it with reasonable, apparently because the mothers of the family had had enough of this sexism. In all these cases, it is possible to guess the meaning of the word but it takes a bit of imagination.

A second technique is to take a general word and give it a specific meaning, creating the false impression that the reader actually understands the significance. A prime example is the word crime. Contrary to appearance, the term in French law only refers to the most serious of all offenses, murder, rape and the like, with délit referring to lesser crimes and contravention applying to a misdemeanor. I imagine that a French lawyer would not fully understand the name of the movie Crimes and Misdemeanors. Likewise, a jurisdiction d’exception actually refers to courts with specialized but limited areas of jurisdiction, such as the Commercial Court. Jurisdiction actually refers to a court while exception relates to a specialty. A final example is the common French word proximité, which sounds like and generally means nearness. Alas, in legal French, it would refer to a local or district court. Knowledge is the key.

Finally, some terms are simply misleading. The reformed code replaces the traditional French legal répétition with restitution. The previously used chambre de l’instruction is now honestly called a chambre des investigations and libertés. At least the first term is clear. Finally, the appel public à l’épargne, which had nothing to do with savings (the last word), is now an offre au public des titres financiers. That is a public share offering to English speakers. At least, someone in the French Parliament cared about plain language.

Legal language has always served as a way of allowing or preventing entrance, a shibboleth. To its credit, the French government is working on reducing its level of encoding. I suppose that French will always be more ambiguous than English for better or worse. A word (or two) to the wise, including those in the webinar,  prevents some serious misunderstandings for lawyers and translators.

Multidirectional wandering and wondering

 

One of the most interesting cross-cultural exchanges is the seemingly simple request for directions. As a non-native, even if you are from the same country, you make yourself dependent on the “kindness of strangers”. The results are quite uneven. Some people prefer not to get involved for one reason or another while others feel happy or duty-bound to help you. The manner and efficacy of their assistence vary extremely. Fortunately, modern city guide applications are ready, available and far more reliable.

The attitude to helping strangers goes beyond individual character and reflects civil attitudes to a certain degree. Many cities are characterized by rather insular lifestyles, i.e., people mind their own business. For example, it is fortunate that Paris is at least 50% non-Parisians. The Chinese are not very forthcoming either. The reason for this taciturn approach is often language ability. Most locals may not be familiar at all with any other language aside from their native tongue. Thus, they don’t want to embarrass themselves. It may simply reflect a lack of interest, i.e., they don't care. On the other extreme, some cultures place a great importance on welcoming guests. As a consequence, they are both happy and honored to try to guide you to your goal. The lack of language and actual knowledge has no impact on their enthusiasm. They feel obligated to try.

Unfortunately, the results will vary. On one extreme, you meet the right person with all the required knowledge and time. For example, a friend of mine  just returned from Japan and recounted how a policeman guided him to where he wanted to go, even stopping traffic so that he and his wife could cross the street. Regretfully, such willingness to go above and beyond duty does not always reflect actual knowledge. Strangers will often take you in the wrong direction or a completely different location, of course, only with good intentions. Remember that a certain road was paved with those same intentions. Language issues can render simple instructions into a challenging puzzle. A hand pointed in a direction followed by the words “1, 2, 3, right” can be rather ambiguous as it is not entirely clear whether the numbers refer to streets, lights or traffic circles. In Israel, I have even had the experience of the addition of a truly cryptic bit of data: opposite where the felafel stand used to be. I found that one as amusing as it was useless. The most serious problem is that many people simply do not want to admit that they don’t know how to get there, as if confessing to ignorance would somehow harm their pride or ego. As a result, they confidently lead you astray. Thus, the level of willingness does not always reflect the level of knowledge.

Fortunately, modern applications have made travel so much easier. I am not the generation that automatically exudes joy over every new toy on the telephone. However, I have to admit that GPS-based city navigation applications allow me to enjoy two contrasting experiences when exploring a city: getting lost and arriving at my destination. I took maximum advantage of these capabilities during a trip to Paris a few years ago. Furthermore, I can err in terms of streets and even directions without fear of finding myself needing to ask a stranger for guidance. Moreover, they are fluent in most languages and even specify the names of streets. They even specify the noun after the “1, 2, 3”. In my opinion, the natives are as appreciative of these applications as travelers are. Not only do they spare them the embarrassment of not having to help lost souls but they also allow them to avoid the shame of having to ask others for directions in their supposedly home territory. Technology does have its benefits.

So, the next time you are a “stranger in a strange land”, just for the fun of it, try asking for directions from some apparent locals. It will be amusing to note their willingness to answer, the actual knowledge and the effort they are willing to invest to help you. After you complete that social science experiment, I suggest using a city navigation application. You can feel confident that you will arrive at your destination. As Serge Regiani sang (in a different context): bonne route.

Long briefs and AI wisdom

 

A word to the wise is sufficient, but only sometimes; a kick in the ass makes a far greater impression. As a case in point, this week I made an apparently unsuccessful proposal on a translation project. In retrospect, I could have and should have handled it differently and will do so in the future.

The project in question was the translation from French into English of a 45-page real estate purchase contract containing nearly 25,000 words. The document posed several challenges, including PDF formatting and quite precise legal vocabulary. Furthermore, the customer required a signed statement of accuracy, which would entail even more QA time to ensure that demand. Due to the extensive time required because of the document’s length and complexity, the quote involved four figures (in euros) and a long deadline. I received a polite but understandable “I will let you know when relevant”. It was clear from the start that the customer was neither expecting or willing to pay such an amount. To be fair, I was not surprised but stood by my quote as I knew how much time and effort such a translation involves.

Looking back, I see that I had another option, one that I know about and had forgotten. Specifically, I had heard Naomi Shenkar, a respected Israeli attorney and translator, say that, for long documents,  she provides two quotes: one for human translation and one for AI + editing. The first is based on standard human translation elements while the second quote is contingent on the quality of the AI output. She also noted that most customers ultimately prefer the human translation. In this matter, she provides the potential buyer with a choice, an unequal one in many respects, but at least an option.

I now recognize that I should have done the same. If I had offered to edit an AI version, the customer may have considered and understood the human translation proposal. While I am not particularly fond of AI or any machine translation, for longer documents for which the time and financial investment may be beyond the customer’s situation, it can provide a reasonable alternative. Furthermore, I would have created a win/win solution. Shorter projects create income and allow the translator to help other customers.

When I began translating some 22 years ago, I promised myself that I would limit myself to one time per mistake. I have been fairly loyal to that vow. The next time I have the opportunity to make a proposal on a long legal document, I will provide an AI option. Better late than never.