jueves, 16 de noviembre de 2023

Like it or not, inclusive language is already on the agenda for publishers, the media and a number of institutions (Humarán / Cosenza)

 


 

 

Like it or not, inclusive language is already on the agenda for publishers, the media and a number of institutions

 

(As language professionals, we have to know it)  

 

Anyone who undertakes the beautiful work of recounting the history of languages will emphasize that major changes have taken place in tandem with profound transitions (just think of the journey of Latin into the Romance languages), that such changes are imperceptible and we have scant record of them.   As is obvious, this latter point has been modified by new technology.   We live in a time when everything that happens to us is recorded, and accordingly, we have an up-to-date awareness of new developments like the one we are addressing now. Indeed, I would like to draw upon this latter consideration to point out that it would be most interesting (and enriching for the study of our language) if scholars in academia were to conduct qualitative and quantitative research on inclusive language.

Surely many of us have had to put up with teasing about inclusive language (IL).  In Argentina, it’s common to hear that people who talk with an “e” (the “latest scream of fashion” after previous attempts like “@” or “x”) are just a bunch of “woke” teenagers. It’s also commonly associated with a certain political ideology.   

And surely we will agree that these groundless comments about language and its behavior are understandable, let’s say,  in one way of reckoning, and yet those of us who are language professionals can and must inform ourselves about it, even if we wish to reject it. 

Our role as translators goes beyond mere linguistic counseling. It’s a kind of cultural counseling. We have to be able to provide our clients (who are inquiring about the subject more and more each day) with solid arguments that sometimes IL is required, sometimes optional and other times rejected. A very good example of its required use appears in the character Pollution which the author Neil Gaiman includes in his series Good omens.  Pollution is neither male nor female, which is how the name must be translated because that’s the way the author created it. Allow me to share with you a text I translated for Penguin (with the publisher’s permission). The text is from the book Bodies are cool (Los cuerpos son geniales) by Tyler Feder, and in it there is a non-binary character (they) in the original, and so it was translated (as elle).  

It should be noted, on the other hand, that in the various other fields people work in, these issues are not as important as they are in the domain of language. When you go through profiles on the internet you can see that it’s rare for an engineer to include her pronouns in her profile, but common for those who work for publishers to choose to identify themselves as he, she or they.   In other words, even for our own interactions on the job, it’s useful for us – both as a matter of courtesy as well as business sense – to pay attention to such things, given that in our professional lives we appear to be more sensitive to people’s different ways of addressing each other.  If someone decides to tell the world that she is a cis woman or that they are a non-binary person, then that is how such people should be addressed.

In defense of the masculine “o” that renders women and diversity invisible, it is argued that, “The use of the masculine ‘o’ to include both men and women is fully assimilated in standard usage and plainly understood.” Okay, but … when I was a girl, insults like ‘faggot’ and ‘retard’ that were fully assimilated and plainly understood, nowadays … make our hair stand on end.

A lot of people ask what difference does it make if a woman is called a jueza (“judgess”) instead of a juez (“judge”). It makes a big difference because it renders the feminine a visible, which in Spanish tells us that the person is a woman, and using the a underscores the fact that the position is occupied by a woman (given the importance that such a presence has in and of itself, the language should reflect this). Let us recall that many English-speakers choose to insert the honorific Madame before the word president (which is itself neuter and would create no problems) to emphasize that there is a woman serving as president.

It’s perfectly clear to us what the relationship is between a thing and the word that refers to it. One invents something, then gives it a name that expresses that something (digital native, for instance). And yet, going the other way is not clear to us: when a word modifies a particular something.  

In one of their functions, words illuminate reality with stark clarity: in the performative function. Just seconds after a president announces that Mr. So-and-So shall henceforth assume the duties of the Minister of Health, that So-and-So IS the Minister of Health. Words have such great weight that even in our technological civilization, the ancestral custom of swearing oaths persists.  This is a ceremony in which words solemnly uttered before an expectant audience will inscribe a particular fact on marble in our minds. We speak of artificial intelligence, yet we keep relying on words to express what it will become. That’s how important words are.  

On a more mundane level, let us recall the power that advertising has over people. How does that deodorant make me feel? Cleaner? More in synch with the times? Sexier?  All of this is analyzed among the three pillars of the advertising tripod (advertising company, ad agency and media), and is validated in focus groups exploring the (sought-after) target’s reaction to these words. (And to refer to them as Targets… it almost seems that someone is shooting at them, and they’re victims, doesn’t it?). Essentially, goals will be achieved by the words that are used. Think of other examples from other domains and periods that are just as effective: I had a dream. Just do it.  Women don’t cry any more, they make money.   

The words of erotic literature stir things up in our bodies.  No one can deny it.

When we hear the word “lemon” repeated again and again, our mouth waters.

In this connection, we recommend that you read the New York Times article cited in the sources because it takes up this sort of influence (the effect that words have on reality). Through an examination of the word “pudendum” it was shown that in order “not to say certain words” (due to shame), many women do not look after their own health. According to a survey conducted by the NGO The Eve Appeal in 2014, 65% of the women surveyed avoid getting gynecological checkups in order not to have to say the word vagina.

In particular, because we are word professionals, we can, and indeed, must understand how powerful they are. Time will tell whether the letter “e” will become assimilated in Spanish usage as an inclusive morpheme for women, men and diverse identities, or whether new ways of “speaking more justly” will arise.  But the main thing is that the debate is now under way.  

It is vital to bear in mind that this movement to make language “speak more justly to all people” is not only taking place in the Spanish language. Language specialists, as well as speakers simply interested in linguistic fairness are looking for ways to indicate diversity: in French with an asterisk, in Italian with the schwa, in Swedish with the creation of a neuter personal pronoun (hen), and the same can be seen in other languages like Portuguese, Turkish, Catalan and others.  

As we have been saying, words modify reality. They can make us want things and consume them. They can say things justly or reproduce hate speech. They empower or they wound. And fundamentally, words tell us who we are as we use them: our geographic origin, perhaps our professional training, our political affiliation, our ideology, our vision of the cosmos – even if we’d rather they didn’t. Our words say us.  

What does the use of the masculine gender as a generic communicate about a person (whether real or fictitious)? What is revealed by the use of expressions like “cuerpa” instead of “cuerpo” (body), “miembra” instead of “miembro” (member) or “yuta madre” instead of “puta madre” (a substitute for whore mother, colloquially often meaning something like bloody hell)? And doubling up with “todas y todos” (all females and all males) or “todas, todes y todos” (all females, all non-binaries and all males).  Or if instead of the neomorpheme “-e”, one resorts to “x” or “-@”?    

It is clear that there is an underlying vision of gender, and of what constitutes sexism in language. 

 

What is gender?

Gender is a social and cultural construction that is traditionally binary; this means that societies attribute to individuals certain values, thoughts, feelings and behaviors based on whether they are men or women. Simone de Beauvoir (2016, p. 269) once said “one is not born a woman: rather, one becomes a woman.” Drawing on queer theory, Judith Butler (1988) goes deeper and maintains that gender is not an internal reality, it is not something given, but rather a phenomenon that is constantly produced and reproduced. It is performative because we are not only performing a role, we are constructing it as we act it out, through our behavior, our attire, our way of speaking. And here the two-way process that we’ve been discussing of mutual influence between language and reality comes into play once again.   

Gender identity is defined as the internal and individual experience of gender as each person feels it, which may or may not match up with the sex assigned at birth (Law 26743). If the two coincide, we speak of people who are cisgender; if not, of people who are transgender. This latter term is an umbrella term that encompasses many gender identities; some sources speak of as many as 94 (Sexual Diversity, 2023).

We can distinguish two paradigms around the concept of gender, with their respective communication strategies and convictions on what constitutes a sexist use of language.  It should be noted that these two points of view overlap and coexist at present.  

The first paradigm is based on a fixed and restrictive conception of gender (the man/woman distinction), which treats gender (or sex) and genitality as the same thing.

The first feminisms and women’s movements struggled against the privileged position of men over women, but did not question the binary division (and there are those who still uphold this view). Accordingly, in many societies and languages, there appeared guides and recommendations seeking an egalitarian language that would include and respect women.  Among the most common suggestions are avoiding the generic masculine, lexical gaps, apparent-duals and other sexist usage.

The strategies used are:

     doubling up

     the @ (because it looks like a feminine “a” combined with a masculine “o”);  

     the generic feminine (used by a minority)

   a series of stratagems for avoiding marks of gender: abstract nouns, paraphrasis, periphrasis, impersonal constructions and so on.  

It should be noted that this view of gender is also shared by those who think these approaches are unnecessary because the masculine includes women as well.  

The second paradigm calls into question the categories of “man” and “woman,” and recognizes a vast diversity of gender identities, as we have already noted.  

It is within this paradigm that what is popularly known as “inclusive language” has arisen, and that we, following the translator and researcher Ártemis López (2019), refer to as “direct non-binary language.”  

 

Non-binary language

López distinguishes two strategies for writing outside of binary categories, which they call direct non-binary language (DNL), and indirect non-binary language (INL).   

DNL consists of using a new gender morpheme: “-e” and “-x” are the most commonly used variants, though not the only ones. The suffix “-e” took hold not only because it’s easier to pronounce, but also because the other options are incompatible with screen readers used by people who are blind or vision-impaired, which would thereby create another kind of exclusion.  

DNL has two contexts for its use: 

1. As generic (the use that is most resisted, even by certain feminisms)  

2. To designate people who are non-binary, of fluid gender or other gender identity who expressly choose not to use either the masculine or feminine to describe themselves.

On the other hand, INL is the same strategy suggested in the first paradigm: to avoid the marks of gender through impersonal constructions, abstract nouns, etc.

 

Our role and professional ethics

To those of us who work with translation, interpretation and editing, why should these questions matter? If our work is to build bridges of communication and enable that particular voice to express itself and convey exactly what it wants to convey, both denotatively and connotatively, then it behooves us to be able to discern the underlying gender vision and implement the appropriate linguistic and communication strategies.  

Just as we are giving the finishing touches to this text the controversy over rewriting the works of Roald Dahl has broken out, which we cannot fail to mention. Dahl – like any other person – chose to construct a reality with his words, both in his literature as well as in his own life.  We do a great disservice to today’s children if we conceal the fact that these realities also exist.  

So it is not a matter of using the morpheme “-e” indiscriminately. We’re not going to put it in the mouth of the protagonist of American Psycho, of Bret Easton Ellis, or of any infamously macho or transphobic public figure.  

But we do have to know when and how to use it: for instance, it’s mandatory for the character Morgan in the acclaimed novel Girl, woman, other by Bernardine Evaristo, or for artists like Sam Smith, who expressly and publicly declared that they were non-binary.  

Over and above any controversy, and regardless of our own stance on the matter, in our capacity as intermediaries and advisors, we who are engaged in the language professions must rise to the occasion.

After all, as Margaret Atwood said: “A word after a word after a word is power.” 

 

 


 

Aurora Humarán / Erika Cosenza

Third Congress of the North American Academy of Spanish Language (ANLE)

Coral Gables (Miami, USA)

May 2023

 

domingo, 16 de octubre de 2022

Transculturización nivel Dios



Para mi sorpresa, el enorme chileno también ¡tradujo! Y nada más y nada menos que al Bardo. Ahora bien... nótese la intervención extrema del traductor que se nota incluso sin leer el libro: 1) se intervino el nombre de la obra 2) en la tapa del libro está el gran Parra (foto y nombre) y ni mu del autor. Veré qué pasó con la obra, pero una rápida recorrida me dice que esta no es una traducción ni siquiera parecida a otras de "The Tragedy of King Lear". Sobre este libro, dice Harold Bloom en la contratapa: "Nicanor Parra es, incuestionablemente, uno de los mejores poetas de Occidente". (¡Claro que sí!) El especialista Chris Fassnidge afirma que el resultado hubiera contado con la total aprobación de Shakespeare.

 


Un pedacito del prólogo:

Jóvenes acostumbrados
A las tragedias que terminan bien
Esta no puede terminar peor.
En un mundo desprovisto de racionalidad
La poesía no puede ser otra cosa
Que la mala conciencia de la época.



Hablando de traer o llevar al Inglés Enorme (gracias, Schleiermacher y Venuti), leí un libro de la Universidad de Salamanca ("Traducción y representaciones del conflicto de España y América", Araguás, Rodríguez y Sastre) que analiza la reacción de los traductores americanos (a partir del siglo XX) con respecto a las traducciones españolas de Shakespeare (en especial, con respecto a la vulgata, como la llama Pablo Ingberg, es decir, las traducciones del español Astrana Marín). Al eterno dilema que enfrentamos al traducir, los traductores americanos (Emir Monagal, Whitelow, Idea Villariño, Pablo Neruda, Patricio Canto, Mujica Lainez, el propio Pablo Ingberg, entre otros grandes) sumaron (en distinta medida) el dilema de si despeninsulizar o no a Shakespeare. Quienes traducimos a español ya sabemos bien qué es el español neutro (que no existe, pero sí existe) y las dificultades que nos agrega a la labor traductora. Ahora, sumado a ese y otros tantos desafíos que nos plantea la traducción... ¿cómo tocar los corazones de casi 600 millones de hispanohablantes y, a la vez, no privarlos de las muchísimas magias de Shakespeare?

That is the question.

Aurora Matilde Humarán



jueves, 8 de septiembre de 2022

Alimento para traductores (food for thought)

Leyendo y releyendo como ando en estos días (el texto que estoy traduciendo necesita de mucho snorkeling antes de que pueda ponerme el tanque y zambullirme), encuentro un tesoro. Por suerte para les ansiosites como esta traductora, existe Mercado Libre. En horas lo tuve en mis manos. Las dos primeras palabras del libro (el título de uno de los capítulos) dicen esto: TRADUCTOR TRAEDOR. Decido en ese momento que me acabo de enamorar del autor. Irreversiblemente.

Digo en el párrafo anterior que estoy traduciendo, pero en realidad todavía no estoy traduciendo, pero en realidad, sí estoy traduciendo. Si bien el texto que me ha regalado la vida (y van…) sigue en inglés en una carpeta que se llama (surprise, surprise!) ORIGINAL y no hay nada en la carpeta que se llama TRANSLATION, yo ya estoy traduciendo. Estoy traduciendo porque ya estoy reflexionando sobre yambos, sobre los endecasílabos de Mujica Lainez (y aquellos sonetos que "tradujimos" [ponele] en Language II en la facultad), sobre esa cosa lisérgica, esa menesunda que es la vidaamormagiasueño, porque ya elegí palabras para decir a varios de los personajes, porque ya me puse el traje que este texto necesita y se merece. La traducción ya empezó, y sé que libros como este afilarán la varita mágica de mi poesía. La traducción ya empezó. Words will follow.

Escribir palabras ajenas de Pablo Ingberg (editorial EDUVIM) ha llegado a mi vida. Paren las rotativas. Decido poner en pausa los otros libros que estoy leyendo para devorar esto que se despliega ante mis ojos voraces.

Peligro. Es demasiado BELLO. Nada es bueno en exceso. Ni siquiera la hermosura.

Me juro leerlo de a poquito. Un capítulo por vez. Oj-Alá pueda.

Traductores: ¿qué están esperando? Compren este libro ya mismo. Confíen en mi consejo. El propio índice te levanta de la silla y te rocía gotitas de felicidad. La reseña tardará porque, contra mi forma habitual de leer, este será un día a día nutritivo. El gran Ingberg ha hablado. Necesito aprender de él.

Aurora Matilde Humarán 


sábado, 9 de abril de 2022

De picaduras y germinaciones

Cuando te pica un mosquito suele haber un período en el que la picadura queda semilatente. No hay que tentarse. No hay que rascarse. O se activa.

A mí me parece que cuando estamos en proceso creativo (me pasa mucho más como traductora literaria que como otras traductoras que he sido), los traductores tenemos el texto a flor de piel. Mucho más sensible está ese texto todavía no parido si tenemos dudas (en especial, terminológicas). Entonces la picadura semilatente se activa con los estímulos más inesperados.

Estoy terminando de leer un libro de Abdulrazk Gurnah (Paraíso, de Salamandra). Por increíble que parezca, dos palabras que tenía insatisfactoriamente traducidas en el bellísimo libro que estoy traduciendo ahora (sobre el que no puedo decir nada, por el momento), han sido redimidas gracias a Gurnah. Bueno, probablemente gracias a su traductora Sofía Noguera Mendía quien escribe tan lindo. 

Me pregunto cómo es que si vivo inmersa en palabras (por laburo y por ser persona nomás que lee, escucha y habla palabras todo el día), algún mecanismo que no manejo une esa palabra, que está en medio de una selva, en África, con una que necesito para un planeta inexistente. La palabra que no encontraba con el huequito que está vacío (o no merecidamente ocupado).

En fin, que siempre que dejo en reposo una traducción (en espera de epifanías, de la criteriosa opinión de colegas o de los libros) pienso ese momento como la germinación de la escuela primaria. Frasco. Poroto. Papel secante. Agua. Y ahí queda. Confío en que llegará la luz, de algún lugar. Por supuesto que también sé que a veces no se da la magia y no se logra decir como se quiere. O se queda en el casi de Umberto Eco. Una solución, una frustración... y no una voz victoriosa del otro lado de una lengua.

Qué suerte tener ese mecanismo interno que no manejo yo*, sino quién sabe quién, que permite que el animal interno esté agazapado, atento, cuidando la germinación, permitiendo que se active la picadura para rascarse y que deje de picar, que germine la planta, que nazca la palabra.


Aurora Humarán


* ¿o sí? Sí.

sábado, 18 de diciembre de 2021

 Estoy traduciendo un libro de poemas que es ÚNICO.

Fuera de lo que es para sus lectores en inglés y será para sus lectores en español (una vez que termine de conducirlo hasta ese lugar), quiero contar que para mí el libro es
un desafío enorme
un nuevo libro cada vez que lo releo para ajustar mi traducción
bello
brutal
bello
triste
alegre
esperanzador
crítico
vanguardista
Del libro de Laura Wittner (Se vive y se traduce, editorial Entropía) que no me canso de recomendar (y sobre el que haré la reseña que se merece cuando tenga tiempo), me viene esta frase que está en la foto de abajo porque... ¡la complicidad con Laura es demencial!
Antes de comenzar a traducir este libro que tengo entre manos, lo primero que hice fue leer sobre la autora. Luego busqué videos suyos para escuchar su voz y para ver cómo mira, cómo mueve las manos, cómo se enoja, cómo se apasiona.
Luego estuve quince días leyendo sobre "el" tema subyacente del libro de poemas. Ese tema era una superficie y fui a parar a lugares más profundos, más duros, pero más necesarios para entender a la autora, al tema y al rumbo que debía seguir. Las palabras vendrían después, pero debía entender el fondo del libro.
La editora me puso en contacto con ella y tuve una reunión por zoom (la llamo una reunión in perzoom que un alguito se acerca a conocerse en persona, pero claro que faltan los olores, pero bueno, pandemia, distancias). Hablar con ella fue hermoso y me llevó a otros lugares más productivos, espero, para mi traducción.
Cuando era chica, amaba imitar la firma de mi padre. Recuerdo perfectamente que cada vez que hacía su firma para divertirme, me sentía invadida por su personalidad, sentía su voz en mi cabeza, a mi alrededor aparecía el Código Civil, jueces, clientes, leyes, un mate, Julia Elena Dávalos. Ahí recién firmaba. Luego fui traductora. Ahora entiendo casi todo.

Aurora Humarán





jueves, 16 de diciembre de 2021

Se vive y se traduce (Laura Wittner)



El mejor libro sobre el costado teórico de la traducción que leí en mi vida (y releí un par de veces con distintas excusas) es, claro, Decir casi lo mismo de Umberto Eco. AMO ese libro.

El mejor libro que leí sobre la magia de la traducción (y acá comparo con Rabassa, Grossman, el mismo Di Giovanni y un bello e inspirador etcétera) es este que acabo de terminar.
Está escrito por la traductora del libro de poemas de Leonard Cohen (ilustrado por Bernasconi) que leí hace un tiempito. Ya me había hecho levantar las cejas más de una vez.
Esta joya que acabo de leer es todo lo que está bien (frase muy de moda, rara y muy enfática).
Empieza con un nombre que generará algo único en los traductores principalmente argentinos. Porque conocemos al dueño del nombre. ¿Con que esas tenemos?, me digo. Bien. A ver… Y veo. Leo un libro IMPRESCINDIBLE para los traductores que cruzan el puente con pasión, frustración, orgullo, curiosidad. Jamás impasibles. Vamos y venimos del inglés al español (por ejemplo). Llevamos y traemos palabras en nuestras valijas mediadoras.

Dice Laura Wittner que
traducir es pensar en una
traducir es ir pegada a la espalda de alguien
traducir es adivinar. Al otro
Colegas: no se priven de este viaje. Maneja una cruzapuentes grandiosa.

Aurora Humarán




martes, 29 de junio de 2021

A Sergio Viaggio, Maestro de traductores e intérpretes

 

Sé que muchos colegas siguen, como yo, sin poder creer que nos hemos quedado sin Sergio Viaggio. Yo le confesé que muchas veces, cuando traduzco, me vienen a la mente sus palabras, los consejos de ese profesional enorme que fue Sergio. Ni traductor ni intérprete: intermediador lingüístico (desde el poder modificador que tienen las palabras, como sabemos los profesionales de la lengua).
Fucking virus. Sergio podría, Sergio debería haber vivido veinte, treinta años más.
Vaya mi recuerdo en forma de poema hoy, tres meses después de ese día extraño y tristísimo.
Aurora Humarán

miércoles, 31 de marzo de 2021

Review of Una larga travesía hasta el agua (Linda Sue Park) in ALA Booklist

As if translating this moving story/brilliant book hadn't been enough honor and joy... 

A great review of my translation into Spanish of A Long Walk to Water (Una larga travesía hasta el agua) in ALA Booklist by Stephanie Cohen. Thank you!

Aurora Humarán






miércoles, 3 de febrero de 2021

Una larga travesía hasta el agua (reseña de Yaotl Altan)

"Una larga travesía hasta el agua".

Autora: Linda Sue Park 🇺🇲
Traductora: Aurora Humarán 🇦🇷
=========================

Les protagonistas son la niña Nya y el niño Salva, sudanesxs, en el contexto de la guerra civil de ese país africano 🇸🇩 . Sus historias van intercaladas, capítulo a capítulo, mas no corren paralelas en el tiempo. Cuando se conocen, Salva es un adulto y Nya es una niña, pero convergen por la construcción de pozos de agua 💧. 

Comienza lo trágico en 1985, cuando las balaceras de la guerra civil llegan a la escuela y Salva se fuga al monte 🗻 para protegerse. Las familias se rompen y les sobrevivientes intentan llegar a campos de refugiades en Etiopía 🇪🇹 y Kenia 🇰🇪 . Salva debe sobrevivir solo en el mundo, pero sus ojos van acumulando tristezas, muerte 💀, mas se aferra a destacar.

El título va acorde con los grandes beneficios que proporciona el agua para la vida humana en las actividades diarias de la gente o al cruzar el desierto para hallar refugio en Etiopía.

Es una lectura ágil, sin detallar demasiado en las causas geopolíticas de la guerra, pero cautiva porque introduce al público infantil en esa temática. Esta novela infantil nos pone a reflexionar sobre la dureza de las limpiezas étnicas y el dominio de unos grupos sobre otros 
🙁.

Mucha gente se queja de la Cruz Roja y de la ONU 🇺🇳, pero estas dos organizaciones le han ayudado a mucha gente por mucho tiempo ⏳. Más bien requieren pulirse y perfeccionarse, pero no me parecen malas entidades.

La traductora es una gran mediadora de idiomas, capaz de aglutinar a trauctorxs e intérpretes de todo el mundo. ¡Que tenga larga vida y muchas más traducciones! Corregí la portada, che, ¿viste?

Publicado por Clarion Books.

Solo el auténtico amor salvará a la especie humana. 

Febrero de 2021
(desde el Bosque de Chapultepec, México)




martes, 2 de febrero de 2021

"Si yo diseñara un auto" one of the Best Children's Picture Books of 2020 in Spanish (Bank Street College of Education)





I am so happy and humbled that my translation of Chris Van Dusen's If I built a car (Puffin Books, Penguin Random House) has been included in this prestigious list! (The Best Children's Picture Books of the Year in Spanish - 2021 Edition. Books published or translated in 2020. Children's Book Committee at Bank Street College of Education)

Translating his great poem was an amazing experience, a hellova trip!

Aurora Humarán





Benja, my fav fan








martes, 26 de enero de 2021

Translating The Carver Chronicles. A blast.

The experience of translating the six books that make up the Houghton Miflin Harcourt Carver Elementary series by Karen English and illustrated by Laura Freeman was one of our best co-translation journeys ever.

On top of all the great things about the translation project as such (translating for HMH is always an honor and a pleasure), we also had the best possible editor (Jeff Evatt) to make sure that the stories selected would be the most suitable for a ten year old child living in the United States. That suitability factor needed to be the same whether the reader was a Spanish-speaking child reading in his or her native language, or an English-speaking child learning Spanish). This exchange was consistently enriching throughout the six months that the project lasted. We enjoyed (and learned) a great deal. And we ended up welcoming 99.99 % of our editor’s suggestions. His proposals always served to improve the finished product.

As with all documents that “live” in one language and then have to “move to a new town,” The Carver Chronicles posed several of the more normal difficulties, and an additional one as well: Hispanic Spanish is an elusive variety and there are not many resources to help translators deal with this factor. How many Hispanic Spanishes are there? Three, perhaps? Off hand we can think of the California area (made up mostly of Mexican speakers), the New York area (made up predominately of Puerto Ricans), and the Florida area (made up of Spanish-speakers from the Caribbean region, and also of those coming from South America, such as Chileans, Colombians, Argentines, Uruguayans, etc.). Translating into a variety that will sound appealing to such a broad umbrella of dialects is a major challenge in itself.

Translation is an eternal approximation, an “almost.” Even when there are inevitable losses in any process of moving from one language to another, it is a translator’s job to compensate for those inevitable losses, as Umberto Eco taught us in his book called, precisely, Saying Almost the Same Thing.

We would like to share with you a couple of the many exchanges we  had with the editor regarding difficulties and challenges of all sorts that we encountered on the journey from English into Spanish. Throughout the process, we enjoyed a veritable feast. Our heroes and heroines were ordinary kids naturally tempted to pay more attention to their videogames than to their homework. They were interesting, colorful characters, and it was not difficult to relate to them, or even to fall in love with some of them (specially the ones who evolved as the story itself evolved). These kids taught us many a lesson.

We have to admit that we felt genuinely sad when we translated the last word of the series. Carver Elementary had become part of our daily lives, and the farewell was full of nostalgia.


1 - DOG DAYS

The main character is called Gavin, but his bossy elder sister enjoys calling him Gavmeister instead. We decided that the best possible translation would be “Gavincín” a good way (in our opinion) to embarrass Gavin. The meister part (maestro, s/he who masters) kept us busy researching and discussing with native English-speakers (We even ended up reading about Stephen King and the 70s, which clearly would make no sense to our future readers, but, hey, it was so interesting!) We decided that it made no sense to focus on the ‘meister’ element and agreed that Gavincín was the best choice. The diminutive often serves in Spanish to look down on others.

2 – SKATEBOARD PARTY

A lot of brainstorming to find a translation as spicy as the author’s “to mind one’s Ps and Qs!”Our first idea was just to undertranslate (using “comportarse”, thus losing the reference to the fact that Richard is naughty AND is not good at spelling). But translator epiphanies do exist. Booya! Yes. Obedecer las órdenes al pie de la letra was a great choice, translating the first meaning as well as the reference to letters.

 3 - DON’T FEED THE GECKOS

Because of the Spanish roots of some of the characters, they use Spanish words when speaking English, mostly to refer to relatives (tía Emilia), food, or for intimate exchanges (“mi hijo”). The mirror situation makes no sense. A mother would have no “need” to say “my son”, just because she lived in an English-speaking country. We just left the original Spanish (without italics). We did consider the possibility of including words in English to show this biculturalism, but only did so in a very few cases. An example: “nothing” (Chapter 10, page 41).

4 - TROUBLE NEXT DOOR

Neck rolls were a really interesting challenge. Daniell makes this gesture which is mostly typical of African-Americans. Should we add a Translators’ Note to “properly” explain the translation? That would make sense in the case of a technical document, when accuracy is of the essence, but we considered that a note would add nothing. On the contrary. No verb in Spanish conveys the idea. Google if you want to see videos or gifs with "neck roll"! This is described as a typical gesture of African-Americans (not necessarily exclusive, but typical), like Italians making huge gestures with their hands. So unfortunately, something was lost in translation in this case. We used the verb “mover”, and though tempted to use the verb “girar” (spin), it might have sounded a little like The Exorcist, and Danielle is not that diabolical! Besides, what does “gira el cuello” mean in this case? Nothing, so we chose “mueve el cuello con un gesto desafiante” (the “desafiante” element is a compensation that we figured might get Umberto Eco’s blessing). 

5 - THE NEW KID

So the new friend is called Khufu, which could have been left as it was in the original. However, it is the Hellenized name (Keops) that is most widely used in Spanish.

6 - PIZZA PARTY

Emotions, gestures, usually anticipate difficulties for the translators as great as those posed by words that are utterly untranslatable. This was an interesting part: “Rosario rolls her eyes at Keisha. Keisha sucks her teeth just as the sub turns in her direction.“

Spanish speakers understand this gesture, and (in fact) do it, but we have no idiom for it, so we resorted to: Keisha pone cara de “estamos en problemas” which, we feel, Karen English would have loved if she had written the story in Spanish. There is no noise involved, but the eyes grow bigger and the meaning is really clear.

 

Goodbye, dear kids, friends from Carver Elementary! Your Spanish-language translators thank you for this excellent opportunity to reflect on communication, language, and, why not?, life. Many more children can now enjoy and enrich their lives with these great stories, full of adventures and thought-provoking situations.

Aurora Humarán & Leticia Monge (your translators)









miércoles, 11 de noviembre de 2020

LOCALIZATION

Part of my job as a public-health nurse is teaching new parents how to care for their infants. As I was demonstrating how to wrap a newborn, a young Asian couple turned to me and said, "You mean we should wrap the baby like an egg roll?" Yes, I replied, that was a good analogy.

"I don't know how to make egg rolls," another mother said anxiously. "Can I wrap my baby like a burrito?"

                                                 Sandra Verhage, All in a day's work