Showing posts with label characters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label characters. Show all posts

Sunday, November 7, 2010

On the Nature of Character Translations

Recently my friend Lucas suggested that character-by-character translations of Chinese poetry, like the ones we offer, are generally misleading and confusing to lay readers. A couple nights ago at dinner I was asked about such translations and also found I had a much harder time than I would've thought explaining why we publish them. I'm not done with them necessarily, but I think it's very much worth a discussion.


Why do we do them? I generally take the following two reasons most seriously. For my part, before any consideration of the reader, I find it helpful in my process of close reading. It forces me to think actively about each character, not just rely on a higher-level understanding of the 'sense' of a line. Where character-by-character translations relate to close reading, I associate the practice with the book 19 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei by Eliot Weinberger (which I have enjoyed a lot, but find less and less useful the more translating I do; most of the translations in it just aren't very good).


The other argument is that such translations might help the lay reader better understand the 'relationship' between the original and the translation -- they highlight the process of translating and in particular the distance between these two languages. Readers can examine the translator's art-in-progress, and better understand the nature of the choices he or she makes. All elements of translation that may normally be ignored.


I think objections to this kind of 'intermediate translation' deserve to be taken seriously, though. For one, it may be completely wrong to see character-by-character translations as legitimately representative of an intermediate step in the translator's process. Translation requires not only an engagement with the meaning of each individual character, but a series of parallel engagements with phrases, and verses, and the poem as a whole. Grammar is not something one considers wholly separately from individual words. It cannot be that distinct. The meanings of words affect instantly their position vis-a-vis other words, and a word's place in a phrase or in the context of the poem as a whole affects its individual meaning. When readers examine a character-by-character translation, they may imagine, then, that it represents how the Chinese "works" at a deeper level; that simply is not the case. Character-by-character translations are more properly conceived as reducing the original Chinese, by stripping it of its grammar and context, to a form more conducive to certain kinds of analysis (though potentially less conducive to the best, most subtle and complete analysis).


Further, Lucas points out that such 'word-for-word translations as intermediate step' are not generally done when translating other languages. Honestly, I think the reason word-for-word isn't done when translating other languages into English might have more to do with the relative youth of sinology as a field. Plus it's just so easy to work character by character compared to word by word in other languages, because it happens that Chinese does not conjugate or decline. That is, of course, an explanation and not a justification.


I remember when I first read "19 Ways", I pored over the character-by-character translation. Years later I read it again and thought, "I can't believe I ever looked at it like that, what a fool I was." And as I kept looking at it I thought again, "No, no, that isn't even right" (I think they had as "but" instead of "only"). So I was potentially mislead both by the format and by their execution of the format. Maybe the solution is relegating one or two example character-by-character bits to an appendix, with appropriate caveats about the particular nature of character-by-character translation, for the obsessive lay reader. Perhaps it can be safely done if the caveats are well written. What do you think?

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

2: Beauty and Big Sheep

Veering from understanding to complete ignorance, I'm going to talk about the character 美 měi, which appears in the poem's last line:

何求人折?
hé qiǔ měi rén zhé?
why beg beauty person return

I've translated měi as "beauty" above, which is its dictionary definition; some other suggestions from Wenlin include "pretty" and "self-satisfied," which I think is Wenlin being too pejorative about the state of being pleased with oneself.

Chinese characters come in many different varieties. The most common by far are semantic-phonetic combinations like 饿 è, which means "hungry." These types of characters are composed of smaller characters that suggest both the character's meaning and its pronunciation. The leftmost part of the 饿 character, 饣, is a simplified version of 食 shí, which means "eat," so we know this character has something to do with food; that's as much meaning as the character contains within itself. Meanwhile, the rightmost part of the character, 我, is pronounced "wǒ," and is supposed to suggest to us (or was once pronounced as - I'm going to beg Matt to post on this because his sense of tonal development is better than mine) the sound "è."

Some Chinese characters, though, are meaning-pictures. 好 (hǎo), the classical example, is composed of a picture of a woman (女) next to a picture of a child (子), and means "good." Woman + Child is good - a pleasant domestic and dynastic image that has a whole bunch of social connotations which I don't want to get into now. 美, at least according to one common etymological dictionary (which is not always correct but is often interesting), is the character for sheep (羊) on top of the character for "big" (大). Big sheep are beautiful! Or, Beauty is Big Sheep! The next time I look at images of Jolin Tsai or Sun Yanzi, I'll have to compare them to a big sheep and see what they have in common.

That aside, my question is, how to translate "měi" at the end of this poem. The dictionary translation above makes it look like the proper English would be "Why beg the beautiful people to return?" but that doesn't feel right: the poet's the wandering one, not the beautiful people. 求 qiú might be better read as "seek", in which case the line might read something like "Why, seeking the beautiful people, return?" This reading has its merits, but it sounds like the poet is plagued by concupiscence, while I think he's more worried about political position and influence. In that case, rather than reading 美人 "beauty people" as "beautiful people," maybe I should read it as "Why, seeking beauty from people, return?"

This is where I make a big jump, and this is where my translation probably fails. In love with the idea that the poet's talking about politics, I think, beauty and self satisfaction might be referring to a kind of official position or respect, much as did "高明“ (high and shining) and 美服 (beautiful clothes) in the first poem. Hence my translation as "honor," and the final reading of "Why return to seek honor among men?"