Translation as Multivariable Calculus
When I tell clients both real and prospective that I see eight different philosophies for doing a translation and weigh all of them in my final choice, I really mean that a translation comes together through a kind of multivariable calculus. Now, I’ve already discussed preserving “period flavor” in my literary translations from the eighteenth century quite a bit in a vague sense on this site but there is room for a series of additional posts: on scansion, on Enlightenment flavor, on balancing that “philosophie” with Romanticism.
Consider this the first of a new series on what approaches I am using in translating the eighteenth-century novel Dolbreuse from French into English. When I want to preserve meaning, I realize that a key parameter for crafting an English translation may be the audiobook test. This can be phrases in a nerdier way as the scansion test and reading test (not otherwise specified). Could I conceivably say some of the megasentences that tumble out of the aristocratic protagonist of the book? As complex as the language is, it is clear that repackaging certain sentences and clauses into smaller constituent parts can retain the semantics of the original. More concretely, each of the sentences in the original French paragraph in the two versions of the below is a question but also contains a declarative component. The declarative portions can be isolated and become rhetorical jabs that point back to questions. The more readable version still sounds eloquent.
The historical context in which such a book was to be read silently and more rarely declaimed offers these words meaning. That is to say that there is meaning in the length of these sentences as they sit on an eighteenth-century lap—the rhythm of thoughts that go on and on beyond the length of a breath—a sophistication, a restraint. But I do not want to leave readers or perhaps even audiobook listeners in the lurch. To translate is to betray—especially within the confines of literary translation (I would certainly not emphasize this grand refrain of literary translators to the same degree in financial or legal translation).
I am of course preserving an alternative form of this book for potential publishers who dig megasentences. A major step in the process of producing this book has therefore been keeping sentence length intact. There really is a niche group of folks online who tout their own ability to read single-paragraph novellas or a woefully opaque long-sentenced book in the vein of Krasznahorkai’s Sátántangó. But they do seem to be in the minority.
To see what I’m getting at, compare these two versions from the same paragraph and rest assured that I am capable of handling academic and marketing translations in addition to this passion project—even this harried, festive time of year
Version one:
“Would philosophy serve as a consolation, when all it offers are monuments to and debates grounded in pride, a jargon of errors and contradictions, uncertainty and extravagance? Would religion strengthen us, when we witness its march through the centuries, across the debris of nations, its victims, & show itself everywhere disgusting, soaked in mortal blood—when it appears in so many guises, that each country, each tribe, each individual even dresses it up in his or her own fashion, and when fanaticism today, fought by all camps, appears to be weakening and faltering only for it to drag a man down with it? Would society itself have faith in a fleeting joy, at a time when gullible men, misled by the word friend, are moaning as they wander in search of someone reasonable? When others are ignorant of the art of enduring happiness, or are strongly tempted to lose their grasp on it every day; & when the sweetest of sentiments, the one that should have made people adore demandingness itself, is destroyed or degraded in the most virtuous hearts, & turned into the fell source of the vilest passions?”
Version two, revised:
“Would there be consolation in philosophy? All it offers are monuments to pride and debates grounded in pride—jargon full of errors and contradictions, uncertainty, and extravagance. Would religion strengthen us, when in truth we are witnesses to its bloody march through the centuries, across the debris of nations and its victims? Its repulsiveness is soaked red from its journey regardless of its guises, each country, each tribe dressing it up their own manner. Would religion strengthen us when each individual even dresses it up after his or her own fashion. Fanaticism today, fought by all camps, appears to be weakening and faltering only for it to drag a man down with it. Would society itself have faith in a fleeting joy, at a time when gullible men, misled by the word friend, wander, moaning, in search of someone reasonable? Would society have faith in that joy when others are ignorant of the art of enduring happiness, or are strongly tempted to lose their grasp on it every day? Would it have faith when the sweetest of sentiments, the one that should have made people adore demandingness itself, is also destroyed or degraded in the most virtuous hearts, & turned into the fell source of the vilest passions?”
Original:
« La philosophie seroit-elle consolante, quand elle n'offre que les monumens & les débats de l'orgueil, qu'un code d'erreurs & de contradictions , d'incertitudes ou d'extravagances ? La religion seroit-elle un appui , quand on la voit marcher dans les siecles, sur les débris des nations , ses victimes , & se montrer par-tout dégoûtante du sang des mortels ; lorsqu'elle paroît sous tant de faces , que chaque pays, chaque peuplade, chaque particulier même l'habille à sa mode, & que le fanatisme aujourd'hui, combattu de toutes parts, ne paroît s'affaiblir & chanceler que pour l'entraîner dans sa chute ? La société même, feroit-elle croire à une félicite passàgere, dans le tems que des hommes crédules, abusés par le nom d'ami, s'égarent en gémissant sur les traces d'un être de raison ? Quand d'autres ne savent pas garder leur bonheur, ou sont tentés fortement de le perdre tous les jours ; & quand le plus doux des sentimens , celui qui dut faire adorer l'exigence, se détruit ou se dégrade dans les coeurs les plus vertueux, & se change en la source fatale des plus viles passions ? »