My process for creating a Communicative Language Teaching (CLT) Dialogue in three to four different languages involved about a week of thinking and only a few days of actual physical work. To begin with I needed to find a way to sidestep CLT’s biggest issue: Language is only an agreed upon set of arbitrary symbols.
The issue of language being arbitrary seems to threaten human beings on a daily basis, to the point where some people are even afraid of speaking. When learning a second language, the arbitrariness of words becomes even more perilous (see An Ineffable Paper, Nick Lowe, 2010) In the mind of the student it seems easiest to relate the new set of arbitrary symbols back to the just as arbitrary symbols they originally learned. No matter the word or symbol being used, it is only there to be translated into something more tangible in the mind of the listener or interpreter, even if that more tangible thing is only a concept, and not a physical reality. The symbol only exists in order to alchemically recreate a past reality, as language can only honestly express what has already happened, by the time it is being used to describe any situation. In the case of describing the present or the future, language is making predictions based on the past. This is inherently reflective of the human experience with communication in general.
So, how do I sidestep symbols in order to relate new symbols to the same concepts? At first, my thought was to attempt to relate new symbols to old sounds but not old symbols. This proved incredibly challenging, and my test subject eventually just ended up relating the new symbols back to the old ones. I was going to use songs everyone knew, perhaps nursery rhymes, and translate and sing them, but even though this allowed my test subject to understand the meaning, she understood through hearing the same song in English before making the transition to French.
Having been attached to this idea it was difficult to let go of it, but eventually I came to another one. One of the languages I am working with is American Sign Language, which is most likely the easiest language to work in and to translate. This does not lessen its usefulness though when trying to use CLT. Even though ASL is a set of movements, it’s still connected to the language center of the brain. This is because it is still a set of symbols, but many of these symbols are much less arbitrary. Sign language is about the same as if pictures of what we were talking about appeared in front of our bodies as we spoke, which is exactly the kind of context one needs to teach communicatively. This is made especially interesting in that, different sign languages are not even broken up by different languages but instead by countries or even cultures. The most prevalent are American Sign Language and French Sign Language, but even these are broken up into dialects, as East Coast ASL can look quite different from West Coast ASL.
Do you realize what this means?! If one were to compare sign languages, one could technically come to fully understand what is untranslatable between languages, as sign language will ultimately be able to literally describe using visuals (almost like perfect moving pictures) of the concepts that are integral to the culture using the signed language. If there is a language out there that comes close to a one to one translation between languages, it is sign language.
As the following example may be hard to follow, please note the distinction between concepts, symbols, and signs. Concepts are literally the way we conceive of reality. They are reality being translated into thoughts. Symbols are the words we use in language (written or spoken) to represent concepts. Signs refer to the gestures in sign language that I am using as symbols that create a close parallel to concepts. Think of them more like pictures of the concepts in question, more than anything else. Imagine with me this scenario. We have an American student, speaking English, and who also signs ASL. This student’s objective is to learn Brazilian Portuguese. So he finds a Brazilian student, who speaks Portuguese and most importantly Brazilian Sign Language. Because Sign Language in any of its forms is a language of understanding concepts, not of following strict grammatical structures, even though both signers sign and speak in completely different symbols, they can teach each other sign languages, and find agreed upon signs and “cognates” between both sign languages. This will be easier than finding commonalities in spoken language, because when I show you a picture of a tree, you will recognize its physical reality before you recognize its symbol within language. From here the two students activate their voices in such a way that the Brazilian sign for tree, which specifically describes the Brazilian tree, can connect to the symbol within Brazilian Portuguese that will describe the Brazilian tree, without the American student, connecting the Portuguese word for tree, back to the English word for tree, and therefore the American tree. In this way the American Student learns the sign, which is a close representation of the concept, at the same time as the Portuguese symbol, thus allowing him to learn Portuguese like it is his first language.
Now I will take this idea and apply it to my project. This means, that before I begin any dialogues in Russian, French, or Italian, I am going to begin a signing dialogue. This also necessitates a less linear dialogue, and more of a flow chart with tangents, that hopefully lead back into the flow until finally, everyone learns the vocabulary I want them to learn, which is of course the most important phrase in any language: “Where’s the bathroom?” or “I need to go to the bathroom.” The only constraints on this dialogue are “No English” and I have to practice not mouthing words as I sign them. I will also have to eliminate finger spelling from the equation, otherwise the sign gestures will be connected back to English words, rather than remaining just gestures in the mind of the student. Once the “No English” period has started, I will introduce myself and ask the students to repeat after me. I will continue by introducing “yes” and “no.” This will be followed by the question of whether the students understand. In tests, this always proved to be a challenging word, and the temptation for the student to break out into English and ask questions is intense. In order to get this concept across I may require the use of a fellow signer in order to have a quick exchange of: “You understand ‘yes’ and ‘no?’” “Yes.” Once understanding is achieved, I will pronounce affirmative with a “good” and continue asking if students understand after each piece of vocabulary is introduced. After the utter basics are established, questions will become the focus, because no one can learn without asking questions. “What?” is the first pronoun the dialogue will encounter. If students understand right away, we will move on. If further explanation is required, I will have planted a pen/pencil in the room, so I may use context to create understanding. “What’s that? That’s a pencil.” Next, we will have “Where?” and most likely (as test subjects had difficulty identifying this pronoun) “Where is the pencil? It’s over there.” The final question, “How?” will then be introduced, along with the phrase “How are you?” and “Well (good).” Which students should recognize from earlier. Finally we have almost all the components we need for our final construction. Seeing as that context should fill the blanks, the signs for “help” and “need” will become available, as well as the noun “toilet,” which will be introduced while I am emphatically gesturing about. I may even have the class stand, and walk with me over to the bathroom so I may provide a contextual answer to the question “Where’s the bathroom?” “It’s over there.”
Here, we enter round two. Hopefully most of everything was understood, but if it wasn’t, the repetition in another language should solidify the understanding gained from the Sign Language round. The second will be in Russian, and will follow the same format, and include the signs from the first round. The third round, Italian will follow the same format, as well as the fourth round in French. By the end, all students should be able to 1) ask the hearing impaired where the bathroom is, 2) ask Russians where the bathroom is, 3) Just don’t even bother with the Italians, they’ll most likely just insult the students, and 4) pretend that they don’t have to go to the bathroom in French.
Bibliography
Gatbonton, Elizabeth, and Norman Segalowitz. “Rethinking Communicative Language Teaching: A Focus on Access to Fluency.” The Canadian Modern Language Review 61.3 (March.2005): 325-353.
Gatbonton, Elizabeth, and Norman Segalowitz. “Creative Automatization: Principles for Promoting Fluency within a Communicative Framework.” TESOL Quarterly 22.3 (Sept.1988): 473-492.
Savignon, Sandra J. “Communicative Language Teaching: State of the Art.” TESOL Quarterly 25.2 (Summer.1991): 261-277.
Van Compernolle, Rémi A. “Towards a Sociolinguistically Responsive Pedagogy: Teaching Second-Person Address Forms in French.” The Canadian Modern Language Review 66.3 (March.2010): 445-463.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Story called the Translator
In my fiction 2 class we read this story called the Translator. I thought it related so well to this class but of course I forgot to blog about it till right now
The story is about a man who has to go to Pakistan I believe and when he gets there he meets his translator. His translator is a young man who takes him to where the man will need to make his speech. When the man gets to the place where he needs to make his speech he sees a woman and she asks a question. Through the translator he hears the woman's question and answers it. He is at once more in love with the woman than he has ever been in love with anyone in his entire life.
He asks the boy to set up a meeting between them alone so he can be with her and talk with her. The boy does this and the woman and man and translator boy meet up at a bar and spend a most magical night laughing and drinking and eating all through translations from the boy. The man is more in love with the woman than ever at the end of the night. He sets up another date with her.
The next morning he wakes up to find that some of his money has been taken and the translator boy has disappeared. In his place is an old man who speaks broken english. He is extremely sad, more sad than he should be perhaps, but isn't really sure why. Later on he meets up with the woman again, this time with the old man translator with broken english.
They sit down to drink and eat and talk again but, as he sits and talks with her through the translator, he finds that he does not think her beautiful anymore. Instead he thinks she is plain and boring and her words are crude instead of delightful.
I thought that this was such a good story in relation to our class because the woman hadn't changed at all. It was the translator who had changed and the man had been in love with the words rather than the woman herself. She could have been saying the same thing, but the choices the old man translator used could not compare to the eloquence with which the young boy had spoken.
It's a really great story. I'll try to find the exact title and author and i'll post again
The story is about a man who has to go to Pakistan I believe and when he gets there he meets his translator. His translator is a young man who takes him to where the man will need to make his speech. When the man gets to the place where he needs to make his speech he sees a woman and she asks a question. Through the translator he hears the woman's question and answers it. He is at once more in love with the woman than he has ever been in love with anyone in his entire life.
He asks the boy to set up a meeting between them alone so he can be with her and talk with her. The boy does this and the woman and man and translator boy meet up at a bar and spend a most magical night laughing and drinking and eating all through translations from the boy. The man is more in love with the woman than ever at the end of the night. He sets up another date with her.
The next morning he wakes up to find that some of his money has been taken and the translator boy has disappeared. In his place is an old man who speaks broken english. He is extremely sad, more sad than he should be perhaps, but isn't really sure why. Later on he meets up with the woman again, this time with the old man translator with broken english.
They sit down to drink and eat and talk again but, as he sits and talks with her through the translator, he finds that he does not think her beautiful anymore. Instead he thinks she is plain and boring and her words are crude instead of delightful.
I thought that this was such a good story in relation to our class because the woman hadn't changed at all. It was the translator who had changed and the man had been in love with the words rather than the woman herself. She could have been saying the same thing, but the choices the old man translator used could not compare to the eloquence with which the young boy had spoken.
It's a really great story. I'll try to find the exact title and author and i'll post again
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
An Ineffable Paper
“Language emerges out of the unsaid, moves toward the to-be-said, and passes beyond, as well as beneath, the said and the sayable to the unsayable” (Innis 107). This quote is a good place to start, because it creates the very experience it is referring to. Like in a dream, thoughts and emotions do not occur in a timeline, but instead all at once. And in the same vein, trying to organize, or translate these thoughts and emotions into a narrative that happens over time is somewhat impossible. Just like the task of the inter-translator, the interpreter of thoughts (in this case, me), or intra-translator has to decide on the order in which to convey the simultaneous sets of thoughts that occur in one instant. This is further made challenging by the fact that every timeless second, there is a new, or evolved set of thoughts needing to be translated. To return to that original set that needs to be communicated, just like attempting to recall a dream, becomes more and more frustratingly impossible as each infinite moment passes. In this way, my language is moving towards the to-be-said, skirting past the sayable and the said, and back to the unsayable, or the further unsaid.
Now, I will attempt to break down the unsaid into what I perceive to be smaller, more sayable concepts. For this idea to function or be translated into the thoughts of others, I would like it if you would imagine (with me) that the mind is a crucible. In this crucible the elements of perception, reaction, and external stimulus are smelted together to form linguistic thoughts. The simplest formula is to take one of each element, but this is the same as being an infant. At this point in time, we are working with multiple perceptions, reactions, and stimuli at the same time. In this fashion we form the sets of thoughts in the unsaid.
Next we have the brief intermediate stage Innis calls the “to-be-said.” This is the process of lingual thinking moving through consistently changing sets of thoughts of the unsaid. Continuing forward, we should be soon hitting the sayable or said. Instead, Innis takes us beyond or beneath into the unsayable. I would think that this is the case because most new ideas begin in the unsayable. Innis says this because he would like us to consider that language may fall short of the complex sets of thoughts of the unsaid we are able to process towards the to-be-said.
I would call this a problem. If we pass beyond and beneath the sayable and the said, we’ve essentially avoided communicating with anyone else. This is where I want to introduce Gregory Rabassa. “In light of the above, then, translation is really what we might call transformation. It is a form of adaptation, making the new metaphor fit the original metaphor, and in a bad translation the results can be most procrustean” (Rabassa 2). Take the word “procrustean,” for example. I am assuming many of the people who read this would have to look up this word in a dictionary in order to comprehend it. But, before we even do that, we can begin to see its function based on the context in the quote. If we were stretching our imaginations a little further, we may even draw out the word “crust” from the center (although this doesn’t actually have a lot to do with the actual meaning), so before we even grasp the entirety of the semantics, we have preset unsaid thought sets. Then, once we look it up, we discover that it essentially means “enforcing uniformity or conformity without regard to natural variation or individuality” (from the OED), which we then can simplify, based on the context, into the word “boring.” Even stranger though, before the word “procrustean” we must consider the word that it came from: Procrustes, who is a mythical giant, who was known as a thief and a murderer (also from the OED). “We are what we are called, to such a degree that ever so many adjectives have been coined from proper names” (Rabassa 4). The point of this long tangent is twofold: Firstly, it offers us an opportunity to see semiosis in action, and secondly despite the ridiculous ideas above, I have said something sayable, using a “new metaphor [to] fit the original metaphor.”
As improbable as it seems, I sense I am close to making that stop at the said and the sayable, before pushing through from the to-be-said to the unsayable. Ultimately, it seems that the quote that Innis refers to from Truth and Method by Gadamer contains the solution to the unsayable:
“Every word breaks forth as if from a center and is related to a whole, through which alone it is a word. Every word causes the whole of language to which it belongs to resonate and the whole view of the world which lies behind it to appear. Thus every word, in its momentariness, carries with it the unsaid, to which it is related by responding and indicating….All human speaking is finite in such a way that there is within it an infinity of meaning to be elaborated and interpreted” (Innis 112, Gadamer 425-26).
My new metaphor to fit the original in Innis is essentially the harmonics in the Music of the Spheres. With one note, the musician can produce a large variety of secondary notes or overtones, which don’t exist in the normal range of the instrument. In language, the harmonics become the said, and the overtones represent the transformation of the unsayable into the (barely) sayable. Now, hopefully, “language emerges out of the unsaid, moves toward the to-be-said, and passes” (Innis 107) through the said before transforming the unsayable into the sayable.
Ultimately, the goal here is to say, that I can say something to you. I did it in the most indirect way possible. Just as in music, where the instrument and the performer, each on their own, don’t inherently contain music, language isn’t inherently communicable by itself. It is the resonance between the instruments that is the human being, and the unsaid (perceptions, reactions, stimuli) that create communication.
Works Cited
Innis, Robert E. “Language and the Thresholds of Sense: Some Aspects of the Failure of Words.” The Journal of Speculative Philosophy 22·2 (2008): 106-117.
Gregory Rabassa, John Biguenet and Rainer Schulte, ed. The Craft of Translation. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989.
“Procrustean.” The Oxford English Dictionary. 2010. http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/50189241?single=1&query_type=word&queryword=procrustean&first=1&max_to_show=10
Now, I will attempt to break down the unsaid into what I perceive to be smaller, more sayable concepts. For this idea to function or be translated into the thoughts of others, I would like it if you would imagine (with me) that the mind is a crucible. In this crucible the elements of perception, reaction, and external stimulus are smelted together to form linguistic thoughts. The simplest formula is to take one of each element, but this is the same as being an infant. At this point in time, we are working with multiple perceptions, reactions, and stimuli at the same time. In this fashion we form the sets of thoughts in the unsaid.
Next we have the brief intermediate stage Innis calls the “to-be-said.” This is the process of lingual thinking moving through consistently changing sets of thoughts of the unsaid. Continuing forward, we should be soon hitting the sayable or said. Instead, Innis takes us beyond or beneath into the unsayable. I would think that this is the case because most new ideas begin in the unsayable. Innis says this because he would like us to consider that language may fall short of the complex sets of thoughts of the unsaid we are able to process towards the to-be-said.
I would call this a problem. If we pass beyond and beneath the sayable and the said, we’ve essentially avoided communicating with anyone else. This is where I want to introduce Gregory Rabassa. “In light of the above, then, translation is really what we might call transformation. It is a form of adaptation, making the new metaphor fit the original metaphor, and in a bad translation the results can be most procrustean” (Rabassa 2). Take the word “procrustean,” for example. I am assuming many of the people who read this would have to look up this word in a dictionary in order to comprehend it. But, before we even do that, we can begin to see its function based on the context in the quote. If we were stretching our imaginations a little further, we may even draw out the word “crust” from the center (although this doesn’t actually have a lot to do with the actual meaning), so before we even grasp the entirety of the semantics, we have preset unsaid thought sets. Then, once we look it up, we discover that it essentially means “enforcing uniformity or conformity without regard to natural variation or individuality” (from the OED), which we then can simplify, based on the context, into the word “boring.” Even stranger though, before the word “procrustean” we must consider the word that it came from: Procrustes, who is a mythical giant, who was known as a thief and a murderer (also from the OED). “We are what we are called, to such a degree that ever so many adjectives have been coined from proper names” (Rabassa 4). The point of this long tangent is twofold: Firstly, it offers us an opportunity to see semiosis in action, and secondly despite the ridiculous ideas above, I have said something sayable, using a “new metaphor [to] fit the original metaphor.”
As improbable as it seems, I sense I am close to making that stop at the said and the sayable, before pushing through from the to-be-said to the unsayable. Ultimately, it seems that the quote that Innis refers to from Truth and Method by Gadamer contains the solution to the unsayable:
“Every word breaks forth as if from a center and is related to a whole, through which alone it is a word. Every word causes the whole of language to which it belongs to resonate and the whole view of the world which lies behind it to appear. Thus every word, in its momentariness, carries with it the unsaid, to which it is related by responding and indicating….All human speaking is finite in such a way that there is within it an infinity of meaning to be elaborated and interpreted” (Innis 112, Gadamer 425-26).
My new metaphor to fit the original in Innis is essentially the harmonics in the Music of the Spheres. With one note, the musician can produce a large variety of secondary notes or overtones, which don’t exist in the normal range of the instrument. In language, the harmonics become the said, and the overtones represent the transformation of the unsayable into the (barely) sayable. Now, hopefully, “language emerges out of the unsaid, moves toward the to-be-said, and passes” (Innis 107) through the said before transforming the unsayable into the sayable.
Ultimately, the goal here is to say, that I can say something to you. I did it in the most indirect way possible. Just as in music, where the instrument and the performer, each on their own, don’t inherently contain music, language isn’t inherently communicable by itself. It is the resonance between the instruments that is the human being, and the unsaid (perceptions, reactions, stimuli) that create communication.
Works Cited
Innis, Robert E. “Language and the Thresholds of Sense: Some Aspects of the Failure of Words.” The Journal of Speculative Philosophy 22·2 (2008): 106-117.
Gregory Rabassa, John Biguenet and Rainer Schulte, ed. The Craft of Translation. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989.
“Procrustean.” The Oxford English Dictionary. 2010. http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/50189241?single=1&query_type=word&queryword=procrustean&first=1&max_to_show=10
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Due Dates, Again
Just really quick this time:
• Please do turn in copies of your midterm paper to either of us sooner rather than later if you haven't already.
• Final blog posts [at least one, preferably two; more if you still haven't done the others] are due on the final date, 12/15.
• The final project/paper and you telling us about it or giving a short presentation [or what have you] is also due on 12/15 at 6 PM. As far as I know right now, it's in the same room; we'll let you know if the location's been changed.
• Self evals are also due to Julie and I during the final, 12/15. One faculty eval can be written about both of us as long as you talk about both of us, and can be turned into the Johnston Office in Bekins.
• Reading for 12/01 is Peden's essay from Craft and the article about translating Hemingway.
• Reading for 12/08 is the essay about translating Dickinson.
When Julie and I finish reading the midterm papers, you'll get them back. If you're worried about the sheer amount of ink on them, we just like to make comments.
• Please do turn in copies of your midterm paper to either of us sooner rather than later if you haven't already.
• Final blog posts [at least one, preferably two; more if you still haven't done the others] are due on the final date, 12/15.
• The final project/paper and you telling us about it or giving a short presentation [or what have you] is also due on 12/15 at 6 PM. As far as I know right now, it's in the same room; we'll let you know if the location's been changed.
• Self evals are also due to Julie and I during the final, 12/15. One faculty eval can be written about both of us as long as you talk about both of us, and can be turned into the Johnston Office in Bekins.
• Reading for 12/01 is Peden's essay from Craft and the article about translating Hemingway.
• Reading for 12/08 is the essay about translating Dickinson.
When Julie and I finish reading the midterm papers, you'll get them back. If you're worried about the sheer amount of ink on them, we just like to make comments.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Final Project Propositions
These are what you're turning in next class, 11/17. Because you'll have three weeks to do this with short classes and limited reading, including Thanksgiving Break, the final project/paper itself will need to be extensive. Because you also have a week to do this with no reading, the proposition itself should also be polished and the project should also be well thought-out. Julie and I are aiming for quick turnaround time for the approvals, so you should know whether or not you're approved [or if you have to be more thorough on your proposition] by 11/19.
Requirements for the proposition are:
• What makes you interested in the project? Why do you want to do it?
• What kinds of research will you need to do? More importantly, will it be feasible to do that kind of research?
• If you're doing a translation, be sure to include a translator's statement [same as an artist's statement]; if you're referencing a translation [say, of a poem] that's in English, be sure to include that, too. We would, however, recommend that you not look at the published English translation before you do your own just to cut down on the amount of influence it has on yours.
• If you're doing a comparison of translations, be sure to state the translators and editions—i.e., you will need a bibliography.
• I am expecting that the projects themselves will be no less than ten pages. If it's a couple pages of translation, make sure that your translator's statement justifies the translation and addresses whatever other translations that you reference. Include whatever you think you need to include so that your translation will make sense to whoever reads it, regardless of their familiarity with the language.
The final date is 12/15 at 6 PM in the same room as always—essentially just one more meeting at the same bat time, same bat place. This is where we're going to have the final meeting and do some sort of paper presentation, with details to be worked out later.
For those of you who either didn't present your midterms or were absent yesterday, you will need to bring them in and be prepared to present them on the 17th. Recall that two blog posts were due yesterday; the next two are due 12/15, the same day as the final. If you haven't posted yet, I still expect to see four from everyone. For all of you who wanted some more hands-on translation or comparing multiple translations and don't know what to post about, that is a valid topic for both the final and some blog postings...
Requirements for the proposition are:
• What makes you interested in the project? Why do you want to do it?
• What kinds of research will you need to do? More importantly, will it be feasible to do that kind of research?
• If you're doing a translation, be sure to include a translator's statement [same as an artist's statement]; if you're referencing a translation [say, of a poem] that's in English, be sure to include that, too. We would, however, recommend that you not look at the published English translation before you do your own just to cut down on the amount of influence it has on yours.
• If you're doing a comparison of translations, be sure to state the translators and editions—i.e., you will need a bibliography.
• I am expecting that the projects themselves will be no less than ten pages. If it's a couple pages of translation, make sure that your translator's statement justifies the translation and addresses whatever other translations that you reference. Include whatever you think you need to include so that your translation will make sense to whoever reads it, regardless of their familiarity with the language.
The final date is 12/15 at 6 PM in the same room as always—essentially just one more meeting at the same bat time, same bat place. This is where we're going to have the final meeting and do some sort of paper presentation, with details to be worked out later.
For those of you who either didn't present your midterms or were absent yesterday, you will need to bring them in and be prepared to present them on the 17th. Recall that two blog posts were due yesterday; the next two are due 12/15, the same day as the final. If you haven't posted yet, I still expect to see four from everyone. For all of you who wanted some more hands-on translation or comparing multiple translations and don't know what to post about, that is a valid topic for both the final and some blog postings...
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
I hope this wasn't already said
There doesn't seem to be any middle ground in the translation articles. By which I mean there is nobody that seems to be directly arguing for a synthesis of literal and radical translation in those terms. People have sort of wishy-washily approached the topic, but they have either been unaware of the two camps or have skirted around mentioning them. And when they have been mentioned it is because the person strongly believes in one methodology. Is it because people believe that the two are simply incompatible ideologies, or because there has yet to be anyone to posit a separate theory in as eloquent and insightful a way as Benjamin ?
I think both methods are utterly broken in their pure forms, as they both take a highly academic approach to translation. Literal has, inevitably, mounds of footnotes that only a scholar would wade through. Meanwhile, Radical seems more like the ultimate comeuppance thesis paper. Rather than taking an interpretation from a text containing multiple possibilities and arguing it, one takes the work and rewrites it to better prove their point. Maybe Radical translation's caveat about the afterlife of a work, which to me has always seemed more like Benjamin saying “Well, even though it isn't going to be a perfect translation we should still try as best we can because the end product will still hold meaning,” is more of a guideline than an impetus to promote the afterlife. Yet it always seems that radical translationists inevitably refer back to the death of the author, as a sort of defense of changing the mood of the work as a result of language difficulties. There seems to be a problem where radical translation risks not bringing enough of the original culture into the piece while literal translation overloads the reader with it. And if one just goes one direction and then takes, say, three steps back from the pure form, while still trying to engage that form, then they stop making sense as cohesive philosophies. It's like Radical Translation Lite and Literal Translation Lite: they are inevitably marketing ploys. A Radical translation is too radical so steps are taken back to avoid simply writing a new book, a literal translation is too difficult to parse and so steps are taken back, and so neither philosophy is really enacted. Maybe I've overstated the impact of radical translation (how often does it really, really come up outside of, say, Onegrin? (probably pretty often in a sufficiently complex piece)) but it still seems that both theories are functionally broken in key parts, though they have very useful components.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Deadlines and Due Dates: The Home Stretch
So you've got stuff coming up, guys.
1. MIDTERM: due 11/10/10
The midterm as planned is a 2-5 page paper that will connect 2-3 articles. You can discuss a theme, trace an author's thoughts or theories through other articles, or what have you, just to show that you're thinking critically about everything. The plan is that everyone will have those in final-draft-form with them in class on Wednesday, they'll present them, and then we'll discuss them. Any changes that need to be made will be, and then they'll be posted to the blog in all their glory.
2. BLOG POSTS [2]: due 11/10/10
Blog posts are essentially one-page responses to essays. They don't have to be exactly a page, you can just type them as you go, but at least two of them should exist on this blog by Wednesday (yes, after class is acceptable, so long as they're timestamped sometime around midnight). They show Julie and I once more that you're thinking critically about the articles and about the general concepts that are displayed in the articles. They can be as formally written or as blog-like as you will; just as long as you're getting your thoughts out of your head and displaying them to us in a coherent and well-written manner, it's fine.
3. FINAL PROJECT PROPOSITION: due 11/17/10
In class on the 17th, you're going to tell us precisely what you're going to do for a final project. Having things at least written down would be nice because I'm a very visual person, but if you can explain it either concisely or with great clarity, that would be fine too. This too will be discussed in class with people giving feedback. What kinds of projects, you ask? Ones that deal with analyzing translations, looking at a particularly notable translation, or doing a translation of your own with a "translator's statement" would all be appropriate examples. We can brainstorm in class, but you'll need to come up with some idea of what you want to do so that we can work from there (and, honestly, we don't have enough time to thoroughly brainstorm nine different finals).
Notes on the final classes:
Those on 12/01 and 12/08 are intended to be shorter classes for discussing the readings so that you can spend some time working on the projects, but we will schedule appointments to check on how the final projects are going, just in case there are kinks that are run into. Julie and I will figure out the details at a later time, but be aware that this is how they're going. You'll have a total of 61 pages to read over those two weeks with 46 of them being printed (I know, I know, print quotas, but the end is in sight and $4.60 or so away).
We only ask that since we're giving you a whole bunch of class time to think about and do the final projects that you do actually put thought and effort into them as you have been doing in the discussions.
The final is on 12/15 at 6 PM in the same room as always, so it's basically another class meeting. Bring your final projects for one last presentation/discussion, and then the class will be over.
I'm in the writing center Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays from 6-9 PM if you need or want to come see me. Please do talk to Julie for her office hours if you'd like to come see her, too.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Translation & Politics
Just as we're not supposed to talk about politics in casual conversation, we're probably not supposed to talk about it in relation to translation. But I will.
It is indeed Dangerous Translation when politics get involved. For instance, look at any of the readings we've done that have included a translation between two cultures that don't normally see eye to eye politically. It becomes a question of preserving culture while also imposing another culture and perhaps advancing an agenda.
Can something like Mein Kampf be translated without advancing the tyrannical (in my opinion) ideas of Adolf Hitler? Perhaps. This is where literal and free translation would come in. Especially if the target language has restrictions that prevent 'translating' ideas. Which it no doubt will. Literally translating it would lose a lot of the nuances to the piece. *Note that I have not read Mein Kampf so I am just going off of what I would assume, which is also dangerous...
Free translating would depend on the translator. Just as we saw in 'translating italian' there a numerous words for a word in another language that can be used. Should the translator choose the 'right' word, then the piece can take a direction that will allow the reader to read Mein Kampf as though it were just another book.
But it's not just another book. And the Korean play is not just a romance novel by Danielle Steel. There are cultural and political implications to the translation of these pieces that cannot be avoided.
So to answer my own question, no, one cannot translate a politically charged object without expressing it's fundamental ideas, which in the case of Mein Kampf, might lead to death.
I think the same applies to Religion. For instance, the numerous translations of the bible have shown that one is not unbiased when translating it. It gets tricky for me personally because people tend to translate the bible in order to get people to read it a certain way. So for instance Mein Kampf could be translated to breed new mass killers.
There are some translations that shouldn't happen. Poems. And Politics.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
An Internal Clarification of Priorities.
Privately I have begun to rephrase our discussions in class around qualitative vs. quantitative translation. One school of translation aims to reproduce the source message in terms as clinically similar as possible, quantitatively reproducing the source works most basic expression, it’s words, in another language. The competing ethos essentially aims to evoke the same qualitative experience within the target language, but willing to shift and change word to word relationships and meanings as the translator deems fitting.
At first I assumed membership to the first school of thought, but as our discussions continue and our reading progresses it’s attractions grow increasingly dull. I admit being attracted to the air of authenticity given it by it’s refusal to change what it sees as the most essential part of a literary work. However, at heart I feel that the writing I most value is valuable due to the state into which it delivers me, not the specific word choice and placement within the text that moves me. Undeniably the best of literature will be replete with phrases that echo in me, but not every word of every sentence has hidden depths. Even were we to admit that the original word choice and phrasing, in it’s specifics and it’s vagaries, was of equal value to the source work’s excellence as the general meaning and emotional impact we would still be unable to translate it in it’s entirety, and as such it is the logical ground on which to surrender to the practicalities of translation.
To butcher another’s metaphor, you could tell me the composition, dimensions, weight, and temperature of a piece of ice, but only when I held it would I know it was cold. I wouldn’t deny that quantitatively true transmission of information is important in many fields of translation, there are many things I would wish to have translated in an exact manner. When cooking by recipe, signing a contract, speaking with a foreign police officer, in fact nearly everything except recreational reading I prefer translated as verbatim as possible. However, literature I read for beauty and pleasure should not be shackled by the disjunction between one language and the next.
Beyond this there is not much I feel capable or drawn to add. I am not advocating extensive unnecessary rewrites, and at heart I feel that this argument is one based on personal preference, I justify the method of translation which most draws me, but there is no objective way to measure one translation against another. I would, however, mention that I recently read “On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer” by John Keats, and that it is as eloquent an argument for a free translation as could be had. Keats wrote it after reading Chapman’s translation of Homer in order to express his new appreciation for Homer due to Chapman’s translation.
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific — and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise —
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
At first I assumed membership to the first school of thought, but as our discussions continue and our reading progresses it’s attractions grow increasingly dull. I admit being attracted to the air of authenticity given it by it’s refusal to change what it sees as the most essential part of a literary work. However, at heart I feel that the writing I most value is valuable due to the state into which it delivers me, not the specific word choice and placement within the text that moves me. Undeniably the best of literature will be replete with phrases that echo in me, but not every word of every sentence has hidden depths. Even were we to admit that the original word choice and phrasing, in it’s specifics and it’s vagaries, was of equal value to the source work’s excellence as the general meaning and emotional impact we would still be unable to translate it in it’s entirety, and as such it is the logical ground on which to surrender to the practicalities of translation.
To butcher another’s metaphor, you could tell me the composition, dimensions, weight, and temperature of a piece of ice, but only when I held it would I know it was cold. I wouldn’t deny that quantitatively true transmission of information is important in many fields of translation, there are many things I would wish to have translated in an exact manner. When cooking by recipe, signing a contract, speaking with a foreign police officer, in fact nearly everything except recreational reading I prefer translated as verbatim as possible. However, literature I read for beauty and pleasure should not be shackled by the disjunction between one language and the next.
Beyond this there is not much I feel capable or drawn to add. I am not advocating extensive unnecessary rewrites, and at heart I feel that this argument is one based on personal preference, I justify the method of translation which most draws me, but there is no objective way to measure one translation against another. I would, however, mention that I recently read “On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer” by John Keats, and that it is as eloquent an argument for a free translation as could be had. Keats wrote it after reading Chapman’s translation of Homer in order to express his new appreciation for Homer due to Chapman’s translation.
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific — and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise —
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Response to Walkowitz's "Unimaginable Largeness"
Walkowitz specifically addresses “new world literature” in this essay but her thesis has wider implications for how we view all translations, masterpieces, and scholarly work (this is especially interesting to me!!). She presents two models. We are already familiar with the first model because many previous essays revolve around the capability of translation to capture the essence of the original. This first system focuses on literary masterpieces and their ontology; ability to convey that ontology marks the translation. The original remains the privileged, superior object: “[originals] have an ontological existence that defines what they are and what they will be; copies simply inherit that existence” (227). The first model thus proposes any meaning we derive from a translation must refer back to the original, much like the clones’ assumption they must find their “possible” to gain insight of themselves. The problem with this approach is just that: literature never acquires an afterlife because only the original produces meaning and the copy can only approximate that meaning.
The second model, the one present in Ishiguro’s discourse, opens up a whole new can of whoop ass. The idea of a network gives a book a rich afterlife. It also allows transformation of essence, and opens the system to infinite additions. The old system demands faithfulness and the new one privileges “analyzing how a work participates not only in its “original” literary system, the system of language in which it was composed, but also in the other literary systems in which it has a presence” (217). Literature in this context is social and collaborative; it participates globally through translation. This not only necessitates translation, it elevates it. If a work composes a network made of the original and many translations then the latter must be taken as seriously as the former. This is not to say: “art can mean anything—that it is what you say or see—but rather that the content of art will be transformed by expansive circulation and by the local interpretations that readers impose” (226). The network model also permits personal points of connection with a work not limited to those who read the original. Proust’s first editions and the influence of translated works on Ishiguro are both examples of this: “a book can be a unique object, too, both because translations create several versions of a text and because personal history distinguishes the social itinerary of one version from another” (222). To me, this statement contrasts Walkowitz’s concerns about the homogenization of culture and politics through translation in the introductory paragraph. If the network model produces personal points of connection it must be a diverse heterogynous structure.
Walkowitz advances comparison literature’s emphasis on phenomenology or form (consciousness of translatability, 219) instills a new ontology, an ontology that only comes out of this specific phenomenology. Ishiguro is interesting to Walkowitz because this idea of global comparison infiltrates the form as well as content of his stories: “His comparisons link together a variety of international themes, but they also prompt us to examine the shape and scale of that variety” (223). The essence of comparison literature therefore arises in its form. Could we then say that the essence of a work really arises in its diverse network? What attracts me to Walkowitz’s thesis is the idea that the meaning of a work is not fixed and in fact evolves over time.
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