Lettre Israelienne – the SFT RTI2023 Congrés in Angers

[Chateau d'Angers*]

I enjoy attending translator conferences abroad. They represent not only an opportunity to learn, network and travel but also learn about other cultures. By the nature of their participants and subject matter, they have both an international and national character to one degree to another. The RTI2023 Congress organized by la Société française des traducteurs (SFT) in Angers, France at the end of the August was truly a French affair. Its content illuminated and reflected the reality of translators in France, which is quite different from those working in less structured countries. I came to understand that this formalization comes at a price but clearly provides benefits for the translators and interpreters working in France.

The nature of this Congrés, with some 260 participants, was almost entirely French, not nearly as international as in most translation conferences. First, aside from a few outliers, all of the participants were French or living in Europe working in the French market. Correspondingly, all lectures were French without a single presentation in English. The video presentation by the head of the Quebec Translation Association, the OTTIAQ, was about as foreign as it got. The audience was extremely polite, sitting through all the lectures even if they contained  an entire alphabet soup of acronyms, even applauding at the end. I did not hear a word of complaint about any aspect of the conference, grantedly well organized. The participants were well dressed, not a given at many translator conferences. The lectures began and ended on time with proper breaks for elegant food and good coffee, also not to be taken for granted. In terms of social interaction, the participants networked in a more subtle way than in conferences in countries with more direct cultures, such as the US or Israel. In short, this was a French conference.

As such, the content discussed and exposed the reality of translator living in France. Unlike more unregulated countries, translation, especially legal and other specializations, is a liberal profession recognized by the government. As such, certificates and official recognition of status are the key for professional success. The government has statutes specifying the requirements and obligations for attaining any status, including “expert”. As an official liberal profession, the government supported translators during the Covid period as it did many other independent business people. On the other hand, the bureaucratic nature of the government creates long, complicated processes. For example, opening a freelance business can take a week while an application to become an “expert” in a given legal jurisdiction can take a year with the relevant authority not having to explain a rejection. French translators seem to work within in a relatively structured set of rules.

In my opinion, this framework both limits development and creates security. On the one hand, the specialized sessions I attended, however well organized,  notably on quality control and ChatGPT, were highly theoretical on the verge of ideological. I felt that a newcomer to the field would not have gained much practical knowledge. Due to their more immediate urgency in other countries, conferences in which I have participated approached the matters more practically. On the other hand, the existence of an established path to financial success as a translator seems to create more emotional security. Translators and interpreters in France may have to play by the rules but they seem to have confidence in their ability to make a living. For purposes of comparison, the most common question in most translator/interpreter conferences is “How can I make a living in this profession” but not here. Thus, the structured nature of translation and interpretation in France creates a comfortable but insular world.

In 1721, the French writer Montesquieu wrote Lettres Persanes, a description of France at the time as if written by a Persian visitor, i.e., France as seen by a foreigner. Being only half French, I admit to experiencing this conference as a foreigner. I enjoyed it very much in all its Frenchness. It clearly expanded my horizons. I met many pleasant and interesting colleagues with whom I hope to keep in contact. I consider the SFT RTI2023 conference a success both in terms of organization and meeting its goals, i.e., knowledge and networking. The French do have style.

* Captions allow the blind to fully access the Internet

Travel jitters

 

[Paris roofs*]

Travelling to an unknown location is exciting, at least for some people. The prospect of encountering a new culture, hearing a foreign language, tasting local foods and seeing unique places breaks up the metro, boulot, dodo routine, enriches the mind and even creates a purpose for working so hard on a day-to-day basis. However, this unknown also creates a certain anxiety, differing by person, whether it involves food, language, loss of orientation or any other familiar aspect in life. I personally have experienced these jitters in the past. Moreover, I am experiencing them right now as I am about to travel to a SFT (the French translators association) conference in Angers and then to Paris to see my family. I find myself a bit nervous about what I will encounter when I leave the airport despite the fact that I am quite familiar with France.

I begin by saying that these pre-trip nerves did not stop me from travelling and enjoying my travel experiences. When I and my wife flew to Budapest, I was troubled by the fact that I did not know a single word in Hungarian and could not pronounce it when if I heard it. Hungarian is not a Latin-based language and has a rather peculiar rhythm. In fact, I could not nor did not try to speak any Hungarian but found it quite easy to read the signs and attain essential information. My trip to Poland for a legal language conference created much more emotional ambiguity due to the close geographical connection to the Holocaust. The trip was indeed emotionally challenging but enriching as I learned how complex the connection between past and present is. For more thoughts, see this post. In both cases, I enjoyed the discovery, each in a different way.

My upcoming trip to France has created a different type of worry. To explain, I am half-French (my mother), lived in France for a short time in my 20’s and speak nearly fluent French, one of the languages from which I translate. I even have family there. A minor worry for me is entering a more formal society after more than 30 years of living in a “direct” country. Thus, I am a bit nervous about making some social faux-pas that are not as excusable for a person of my age (as compared to when I was younger). However, my greater fear is the potential disappointment on what I will see in Paris. To explain, I lived in that city some 40 years ago and last visited some 14 years ago. Neither I nor the city are same. You can say that we have evolved or, possibly, devolved. Thus, our upcoming meeting will much more similar a first date than a reunion. I confess that this uncertainty makes me a bit nervous.

Still, as Doris Day sang so wonderfully, che sara, sara. Whatever the case, it will be nice to see my cousins, stroll through a European city, enjoy the food, appreciate the lifestyle and, as I did some 40 years ago, let my American self  laugh at the French while my French side enjoys every bit of the experience. Even if I am not fond of how the city has changed, it is, to paraphrase Shakespeare, better to have seen and been a bit disappointed than never to have travelled at all. I accept travel jitters as an essential part of discovering the world. Of course, I will report how justified or unjustified my fears were when I return. The only thing to fear is fear itself?

* Picture captions help the blind fully access the Internet.

Picture credit

Vive le Français

 

[Eifel tower*]

A few weeks ago, I had the special and unexpected pleasure of listening to an online session of the SFT, the French association of translators. The content was rather prosaic, even staid, specifically the specifics of the conversations between the association and the French government regarding COVID-19 relief available to translators and interpreters. Yet, in my eyes, it was a great pleasure, the mahiya as my mother would say (in Yiddish), because of the language. All the French I hear is from the television, which is respectable in terms of grammar and pronunciation most of the time but clearly meant for mass consumption on a communicative level. By contrast, the hosts employed elegant phrasing, accurate connecting words and all the tenses in the book. To some it may have sounded bureaucratic. However, I saw precision, clarity and, most importantly, elegance. Despite my less than great interest in the content, I simply sat back and enjoyed the show, so to speak.

I have often mocked France as the country in which style has almost completed defeated content.  In my experience, most French really do not care what they eat, people say or they achieve in life as long as the actual output has style. Michelin star-decorated restaurants serve plates that would leave Mahatma Gandhi hungry but cause Claude Monet to ring praises of the colors and textures. In my eyes, women’s clothes style in France is not based on the garment but on the overlay of shades and forms, quite different from the mode of most of its neighbors, especially Germany. Watching the July 14^th military parades in France, especially as compared to the Israel flag-exchange ceremony the eve of every Independence Day, is a marvel to the eyes but does pose questions regarding when these soldiers find time to learn how to fight. There is no doubt about it that the French style is aesthetic to the extreme.

Maybe due to age, I am learning to see the wisdom of the French approach. A neat, beautifully plated éclair looks much more appetizing than a messy one thrown  sloppily on a plate. Clothes do make the man (and woman) as so much of our first impression is based on a visual assessment, which often identifies important internal values. The manner of speaking and level of language use is quite often a reflection of the intelligence and intellectual approach of the speaker or writer. Even in my work, I have come to understand that many customers value neat formatting of text and tables as much as the skill of the translation.  It may be that style is really never completely divorced from reality.

To make it clear, my love of beautiful language is not limited to French. I appreciate the strange but charming logic of winding Russian sentences whose parts are connected by a coherent logic that only a Russian can create. I cannot help but smile when I hear Italian. The music of that language is simply entrancing in itself. As for English, a rough hybrid of a Gaelic, Germanic and Latin-based languages, when a diamond does appear, it is a result of extensive and artistic polishing. Thus, I appreciate the “effortlessness” of Rudyard Kipling and George Orwell, to name a few, knowing that the pearl was the fruit of great labor. So, elegance in any language is worthy of appreciation.

Still, maybe because I am half-French, when I hear or read beautiful French, it makes me happy, joyous even. Like listening to the last movement of Beethoven’s ninth symphony, it is an ode to joy. I will never be able to speak, not to mention write, that way but that does not stop me from appreciating the beauty of “une belle phrase”, a beautiful sentence, perfect in itself regardless the content or lack thereof, like Cinderella at the ball, a princess for that moment. So, vive le Français.

*Picture caption allow the blind to access the Internet.

Picture credit: Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/philriley427-331295/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=4416700">Phil Riley</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=4416700">Pixabay</a>