Does anybody else have difficulty reading books in translation? A mental difficulty, I mean.
There are so many great Russian and French works in particular that I really want to read, but reading in translation makes me unhappy. I feel like I have to put so much trust in the translator because language has so many subtleties and what if I miss something in the process of translation? Do I read books with translations that keep the spirit of the work or books that are as close to word-to-word/literal meaning as possible? Personally, if I had to choose I’d go with the former, but then I feel like I’m not reading “Crime and Punishment” for example but rather a translator’s take on “Crime and Punishment,” which means I must put a lot of trust in the translator grasping the intent and vibe of the author, which is precarious at best.
I know that’s silly but it bothers me every time I read anything translated such as works like those I mentioned or even works like the Bible.
I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t make MUCH of a difference, but it gets in the way of my reading experience and I can’t enjoy the book nearly as much. I also know I can do research on translations and that commentaries can help me parse out any tricky translations. But I just want to know, does anybody else ever feel this way?
by Cordelia-Shirley
7 Comments
> I have to put so much trust in the translator because language has so many subtleties and what if I miss something in the process of translation?
There’s a book I read in my native Slavic language and years later I found English translation. Since I’m a die-hard fan of the book, I read English translation and at the same time original and I was honestly impressed by the certainty of the translation. The spirit, intent, between the lines and all other higher forms of literary devices were translated perfectly.
In my experience, Slavic writers of high value rarely engage in semantic language games or play on words. Unlike, say, Joyce whose Ulysses is filled with it so much so, it makes it hard for non-native English speaker to connect the dots.
Now, I was reading discussions on translations of Umberto Eco’s works, Tolstoy even some French authors and my takeaway was that sometimes, some early translations simply did not “get it” in terms of properly depicting inner dialogs and/or feelings which, admittedly can affect the perception of the certain states of mind of characters.
As a rule, I would certainly read more recent translations.
I think I felt this way after the Witcher.
I never watched the series, but I did play the game before my partner bought me the books. I thought I’d enjoy them far more than I actually did, but I found the pacing a bit off and the writing a bit too on-the-nose for my liking.
I ended up asking a friend fluent in Polish what his thoughts on the book were, and when we compared books he told me a lot of the writing was lost in translation. I have to take his word for it.
I actually felt similar to this a few years ago, when I went through a stretch of reading a bunch of Japanese literary novels in translation, though more in a way that I was curious about it than that it was weighing on my experience. I was particularly fascinated by the opening lines of Yasunari Kawabata’s “Snow Country”, and how the standard English language translator had to actively make up bits of information to make it work in English, because of how different English and Japanese are. There are literary effects that can be achieved in Japanese that, at least, you have to really contrive in English.
The truth is that you’re right, you are getting the original text via mediation, and via a mediation that can really influence the reading experience of the translation relative to the original in the hands of a native speaker. That interpretive layer can be its own interesting thing, if you’re happy to make peace with it and enjoy the text you have access to rather than pining after the text you don’t.
Anyway, what I did to engage with this aspect of the books I was reading was, I taught myself Japanese. It was really fun, language learning is an achievable goal and very satisfying, and there are so many resources out there. If you’re interested in Russian and French literature, French is a great new language for someone who’s already anglophone. Russian will be more of a stretch, but a great additional challenge. If it’s really bothering you that much, those are both options, and you have a whole world of literature waiting for you that you’re already interested in to immerse yourself in your target language.
I’ve read poorly translated novels before. The translation might be correct, but the author’s style is definitely lost in the translation. For most books, I ignore the bad grammar and poor word choice. But for the ones that I really love, I try to find and read all the different English translations of the novel.
I’ve read books that were translated that were excellent reads and I feel did a good job in getting across the authors point and voice while still making it enjoyable to the reader.
I’ve also read incredibly awkward translations that took away from the reading experience because it feels like the heart of the story is missing.
I think if you are going to change the language of any material you need to make the adjustments to make it flow in the new language.
I understand what you mean. I like reading translated works because I enjoy learning about new places and perspectives that I would be unable to find sticking to books from my own country.
I do admit that sometimes I get sad that I will never be able to understand the stories I read at the level a native reader would be able to. There’s books I’ve read that I thought I completely understood but then I would discover from native readers that I only understood the surface level of the book, but not the depth only someone raised in the culture would.
It doesn’t bother me as much now and I can usually read through a book and enjoy it.
>but then I feel like I’m not reading “Crime and Punishment” for example but rather a translator’s take on “Crime and Punishment,” which means I must put a lot of trust in the translator grasping the intent and vibe of the author, which is precarious at best.
Every single translation, no matter what the author intended or the translator prioritizes, is an adaptation. There is no getting around that. I think that ultimately you just have to accept that you are reading an adapted work, and then try to find the one that suits your priorities as a reader.