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.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Translation as an Original Work
No matter how, we tried to get away from this question, the "Strict literal translation vs. free translation" continued popping into my head last night. There was no avoiding it. Until we can agree on what qualifies as a translation, and what are the inherent goals of translation, we can't really say anything concrete about the semantics of the word. Even the OED leaves it open to our interpretation. Should we even bother attempting to define this? I would like to try in order to garner the class' opinions, and get them in a centralized location. I will attempt to make an argument for both sides of the issue.
Literal translation. The ideal is to take two languages and stick an equals sign between the two relating to a piece of writing. A supposedly impossible task, considering that as much as one word seems to equate to another, the entire history of the word gives it a slightly different contextual meaning. As we saw last week, in the OED, even the word "translate" originally has a different primary meaning than is used today. "To bear, convey, or remove from one person, place or condition to another; to transfer, transport" (from dictionary.oed.com). Where as in another language there may not be the same semiotic history. En français, la définition est "transposer un discours, un texte, l'exprimer dans une langue différente" (from larousse.com). Perhaps a better comparison to make would be between these words: Canis, Cane, Chien, Hund, Собака, Perro, 犬 (Inu), הונט, Dog, and even Dawg. These words all come from different idioms and have different histories, some of the words in the list are similar to each other, leading to up to "dawg" which has completely evolved into a different meaning as I am sure Ella will talk about in her final project. Even though it is impossible to make deux égal dos, we can come close enough to make simple sentences nearly equal. As semantics in idioms get more complex the ideas become harder to communicate. This is where the term "literal translation" enters the equation. Literalists would say, when the ideas become complex and thus incommunicable via an one to one translation, continue translation as if it were still possible to translate one to one, and then just create footnotes to explain the strange phrasings of passages; the object being to bring the reader to the foreign-ness of a piece and attempt to emulate the feeling of the foreign language. The benefits of this method are a near perfect faithfulness to the original, making the translator as invisible as possible. The deficit, however, is the piece becomes confusing and inaccessible to its target audience, as the "skyscrapers of footnotes" overwhelm, and the odd phrasings alienate said audience.
On the other hand, we have "free translation." This method attempts to preserve the meaning, but potentially sacrifices the foreign-ness and the inherent uniqueness of that idiom in the process. This is not always the case. In some cases (none jump to mind, but I am sure they exist), the foreign feeling of the original is transmitted through a free translation, but often as not, free translations take away from, or betray the original. The question now, is whether a free translation can still be called a translation at all. If I were to ask the OED, one of its definitions of translate is: To interpret, explain; to expound the significance of (conduct, gestures, etc.); also, to express (one thing) in terms of another. This seems to fit well with the idea of free translation. When the free translation comes under attack, some authors or critics defend the work being prosecuted by asking the criticizers to consider the work in question as something separate from the original, to evaluate the piece on it's own without comparing it to its predecessor. Although this may artificially increase the quality or value of the free translation, it no longer fits the definition of any translation. I would call this a "free" or a "not worth the time to read, because it's plagiarism." The point being that free translations seem to run away a bit with the first part of the term, and can even forget about the second part.
Ideally, a translation would fall somewhere between these two extremes, being faithful to the original, word for word, as much as possible, and at the same time, changing words in order to keep the meaning, and context accurate. Does this succeed as a translation? No. But like many have said before, we must keep trying.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
amour, amor, amore, something, something, something and fish eggs.
I want Amour Trilingue.
But that is beside the point.
I find it impossible to read theory without a pen. There are so many thoughts that come to mind and connections to be made. There are also words and themes that are quite difficult to comprehend at first read.
There are two theories that have intrigued me.
One: translation that separates language and culture.
Two: things that are not translatable.
My feeling is that language and culture cannot be separated. I also believe that there are some things that cannot be translated.
In Language and Words, there is a passage that represents the idea that language and culture cannot be separated. [This is an we didn’t have to read…yet?] “We will never grasp the spirit of the foreign language if we first translate each word into our tongue and then associated it with is conceptual affinity in the language—which does not always correspond to the concepts of the source language” (Theories-Schopenhauer, 33). There are just times when one has to think in the foreign language. And in order to do that, they must know a bit about the culture. I supposed I feel strongly about this because there are a lot of things in Japanese that cannot be translated. For instance, the word ‘えんりょう’literally translates to extreme politeness in English. But it’s a cultural thing as well. Someone who is ‘えんりょう‘ is someone who goes out of their way for other people, or often holds back their feelings in order to please other people. Often my Japanese friends will tell me えんりょうなくで。。。which means ‘don’t worry about being so extremely polite. However, even as I write this, I know that I am not fully explaining the idea behind enryou. It’s just something that I accept in the Japanese language and culture．Perhaps someone can give me an instance where it is ok. But even with Spanish in America and the multiple cognates, it is impossible to completely learn the language without learning about the culture and being able to use it properly without knowing the culture.
We’ve also seen in many of our readings, such as Nabokov or Suh, that in order to understand translations of older pieces, one should know the historical background of the source text. Translating those pieces and then trying to understand them would be impossible without the cultural references and knowledge.
I think I am glad that culture and language cannot be separated in my mind. I feel that it would take away so much from the learner. However, I also see why learning a language is not as popular as I would think. One has to put in a lot of time and effort and has to, at times, let go of their home culture, which can be scary for people’s identities, and transfer their energy to another ‘culture’. Do they feel a sense of betrayal to the home culture? I’ve talked with Shiloh about having a different personality in different languages. I don’t mind it, but I can see why people would be uncomfortable with the idea or actual time in which they ‘switch cultures’. What do you all think?
As we’ve read “The answer to the question, “can one translate a poem?” is of course no” (Theories: Bonnefoy, 187). Poems are probably the number one thing that just cannot be translated. And I’m speaking separate from the theory that you needd the culture. Which I think might be contradicting myself. Because if I stand by my above argument, then nothing can ever be translated…..
Okay. Nothing can ever be accurately translated. But the definition of accurate is a fine line. The word love can be translated into any culture without culture backgr…..actually no. It holds weight in different languages/cultures, that cannot ‘accurately’ represent the word. Especially in English now, where ‘I love you, ya, u and luv u’ are all synonymous.
This is upsetting me.
So I will continue it later. But I want responses!!! what am I trying to get across......かなあああああ。
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Translation can be something beautiful?
When I was reading the Article "Translation in a Global Market" I noted on the side the thought of losing the 'beauty of translation.' If we were to become this transnational monoculture there would be no need for translations. This thought made me kind of sad and I wondered at the idea of translations themselves being an art form (kind of what we talked about in some of the earlier articles where translations are creative works of their own). Maybe there is even something beautiful about a "bad" translation. I am the sort of person who likes "bad" movies because of how bad they are. Every halloween we watch a horrible scary movie like "Teeth" or "Cheerleader Massacre" because of how terrible the plots are and how awkward the acting is. There's something that is absolutely wonderful about watching these and I wonder if even bad translations have a sort of beauty to them. Maybe the beauty is the clumsy attempt at bridging two worlds. It is almost what makes us human. Human beings are social creatures and translations are an attempt to be social.
I really feel that in the imperfect translations between people there can be something gained or learned. It is what makes us human, the mistakes or misunderstandings that we have. If there were just machines that could translate everything absolutely perfectly there would be no mistakes or misunderstandings and the human part of it, the part of it that separates us from other creatures or things would be obsolete and then what would be the point in being human?
Not to mention almost all the plot lines for creative writers would be taken away. So many stories rely on misunderstandings between people. What if these translating machines not only translated perfectly from other languages, but just from one person to the next? Then there would be no misunderstandings ever.
I really feel that in the imperfect translations between people there can be something gained or learned. It is what makes us human, the mistakes or misunderstandings that we have. If there were just machines that could translate everything absolutely perfectly there would be no mistakes or misunderstandings and the human part of it, the part of it that separates us from other creatures or things would be obsolete and then what would be the point in being human?
Not to mention almost all the plot lines for creative writers would be taken away. So many stories rely on misunderstandings between people. What if these translating machines not only translated perfectly from other languages, but just from one person to the next? Then there would be no misunderstandings ever.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Other topics of discussion – 10/20/10
Discussion today was fantastic, by the way. Here are the topics from the agenda we maybe didn't get to go really in-depth with, and my explanation of a couple of them below.
Translating Japanese
• Agency: Emphasis on verbs and adjectives rather than subjects. p 145.
Global Market
• "Diplomat" electronic translation, p 8-10
• Homogeneity and translation: Mass culture, colonial/neocolonial capitalism
• "Transnationally translatable monoculture", p 3
• Babel stories, p 7-9
• Summary, p 11-12
• Formation of a mass cultural object [think too of the "mass culture" described later on in Just a Couple of Days!]
Fake Farsi
• Riffing and diggability
• Linguistic determinism, p 44
• Relationship to Grammar Games p 94
• Stopping all language but poetry [link to Q'uranic recitation, if applicable: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6ZNPSHnqGk ]
• What does Shiloh think?
• Exile and cultural identity p 139; politics of choosing a language in Global Market, p 5
Clockwork Orange
• Discernability of words
• What's the point of slang?
• Why Russian?
What does Shiloh think about the Fake Farsi article?
Well, this wasn't the sole article that made me want to teach this class; reading A Clockwork Orange over the summer actually made me completely and utterly thrilled about the potential that playing with language has in both a creative context and with linguistic implications—like why Anthony Burgess chose to use anglicized Russian as the slang counterpart to the youth subculture, and what that might say about the culture. Do I know for sure? No, not at all, but it's fun to speculate, and I'd love to see or hear thoughts along those lines [especially for those of you who might know something about Soviet culture in 1962 when the book had its first copyright]. I think the Fake Farsi article has valid points—you can fool someone who doesn't know the language well by mimicking the sound contours of a language, and for a concrete example, babies do this when they start to babble. They have spent their lives up to that point listening to the particular sounds, both phonemic and prosodic, of their native language, and when they begin to babble, they like to play with sounds that they have heard, possibly in an effort to open more lines of communication. It's clearly not the language and some would argue that it isn't a language at all, but it's the beginnings of one.
In addition to that, the Fake Farsi continues with the point that we've spent a lot of time discussing, that of the question of culture and language being related. Sometimes it helps to look at things from a lot of different angles.
Possibly my favorite article dealing with topics of translation is to be read next week, the one with Queer Caribbean Localities in its title. It was one of those that really brought home some of the realities of translating and some of the real difficulties in doing so, in particular building a character with particular traits [as it were]. As always, open-ended speculation is always welcome.
Some of the words in Clockwork Orange [first two pages] appropriated from Russian, with their meanings intact:
• horrorshow: хорошо, khorosho, good
• glazzies: глаз, glaz, eye
• rot: рот, rot, mouth
• moloko: молоко, moloko, milk
• droog: друг, droog, friend
• mesto: место, mesto, place
• skorry: скоро, skora, quickly
• starry: старый, staryih, old
• rassoodock[s]: рассудок, rassudok; reason, mind
• raz: раз, raz, time
• veshch: вещь, veshch, thing
• Bog: бог, bog, God
• mozg: мозг, mozg, brain
• peet[ing]: петь, peet', to sing
• deng: денг, deng, money
• vidd[y/ing]: видеть, videt', to see
• veck: человек, chyelovek, man
• ptitsa: птица, ptitsa, bird [i.e., girl]
• tolchok: толчок, tolchok; hit, impact
• kartoffel: картофель, kartofel', potato
• smeck[ing/ed]: смех, smekh, laugh
• rooker: рук, ruk, hand
• litso: лицо, litso, face
• litsa: лица, litsa, person
• pletcho: плечо, plecho, shoulder
For the most part, they've just been phonetically rendered and made to sound vaguely English in the same [or similar] meanings to what they have in Russian, even if they're used in the slangy kind of way; for instance, the usage of "ptitsa" isn't in the idea of flying birds but is in the English slang of "bird" meaning "girl". Other slang you might see is rhyming slang [see "appy polly loggys" for apologies, for instance]. The main point of reading this chapter from Clockwork Orange was to see how untranslated language could be manipulated in a creative way and what effect it would have on the literature in question—this could also be applied to novels with, say, Spanish sprinkled throughout. Thoughts?
A link to a dictionary of the slang used in Clockwork Orange: http://www.soomka.com/nadsat.html
Translating Japanese
• Agency: Emphasis on verbs and adjectives rather than subjects. p 145.
Global Market
• "Diplomat" electronic translation, p 8-10
• Homogeneity and translation: Mass culture, colonial/neocolonial capitalism
• "Transnationally translatable monoculture", p 3
• Babel stories, p 7-9
• Summary, p 11-12
• Formation of a mass cultural object [think too of the "mass culture" described later on in Just a Couple of Days!]
Fake Farsi
• Riffing and diggability
• Linguistic determinism, p 44
• Relationship to Grammar Games p 94
• Stopping all language but poetry [link to Q'uranic recitation, if applicable: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6ZNPSHnqGk ]
• What does Shiloh think?
• Exile and cultural identity p 139; politics of choosing a language in Global Market, p 5
Clockwork Orange
• Discernability of words
• What's the point of slang?
• Why Russian?
What does Shiloh think about the Fake Farsi article?
Well, this wasn't the sole article that made me want to teach this class; reading A Clockwork Orange over the summer actually made me completely and utterly thrilled about the potential that playing with language has in both a creative context and with linguistic implications—like why Anthony Burgess chose to use anglicized Russian as the slang counterpart to the youth subculture, and what that might say about the culture. Do I know for sure? No, not at all, but it's fun to speculate, and I'd love to see or hear thoughts along those lines [especially for those of you who might know something about Soviet culture in 1962 when the book had its first copyright]. I think the Fake Farsi article has valid points—you can fool someone who doesn't know the language well by mimicking the sound contours of a language, and for a concrete example, babies do this when they start to babble. They have spent their lives up to that point listening to the particular sounds, both phonemic and prosodic, of their native language, and when they begin to babble, they like to play with sounds that they have heard, possibly in an effort to open more lines of communication. It's clearly not the language and some would argue that it isn't a language at all, but it's the beginnings of one.
In addition to that, the Fake Farsi continues with the point that we've spent a lot of time discussing, that of the question of culture and language being related. Sometimes it helps to look at things from a lot of different angles.
Possibly my favorite article dealing with topics of translation is to be read next week, the one with Queer Caribbean Localities in its title. It was one of those that really brought home some of the realities of translating and some of the real difficulties in doing so, in particular building a character with particular traits [as it were]. As always, open-ended speculation is always welcome.
Some of the words in Clockwork Orange [first two pages] appropriated from Russian, with their meanings intact:
• horrorshow: хорошо, khorosho, good
• glazzies: глаз, glaz, eye
• rot: рот, rot, mouth
• moloko: молоко, moloko, milk
• droog: друг, droog, friend
• mesto: место, mesto, place
• skorry: скоро, skora, quickly
• starry: старый, staryih, old
• rassoodock[s]: рассудок, rassudok; reason, mind
• raz: раз, raz, time
• veshch: вещь, veshch, thing
• Bog: бог, bog, God
• mozg: мозг, mozg, brain
• peet[ing]: петь, peet', to sing
• deng: денг, deng, money
• vidd[y/ing]: видеть, videt', to see
• veck: человек, chyelovek, man
• ptitsa: птица, ptitsa, bird [i.e., girl]
• tolchok: толчок, tolchok; hit, impact
• kartoffel: картофель, kartofel', potato
• smeck[ing/ed]: смех, smekh, laugh
• rooker: рук, ruk, hand
• litso: лицо, litso, face
• litsa: лица, litsa, person
• pletcho: плечо, plecho, shoulder
For the most part, they've just been phonetically rendered and made to sound vaguely English in the same [or similar] meanings to what they have in Russian, even if they're used in the slangy kind of way; for instance, the usage of "ptitsa" isn't in the idea of flying birds but is in the English slang of "bird" meaning "girl". Other slang you might see is rhyming slang [see "appy polly loggys" for apologies, for instance]. The main point of reading this chapter from Clockwork Orange was to see how untranslated language could be manipulated in a creative way and what effect it would have on the literature in question—this could also be applied to novels with, say, Spanish sprinkled throughout. Thoughts?
A link to a dictionary of the slang used in Clockwork Orange: http://www.soomka.com/nadsat.html
Quotes from "The Culture Industry"
Emily Apter's article begins with a reference to Adorno and Horkheimer's "The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception". Most of the chapter is available online at: http://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/adorno/1944/culture-industry.htm
Here are a few quotes of interest:
"The ruthless unity in the culture industry is evidence of what will happen in politics. Marked differentiations such as those of A and B films, or of stories in magazines in different price ranges, depend not so much on subject matter as on classifying, organising, and labelling consumers. Something is provided for all so that none may escape; the distinctions are emphasised and extended. The public is catered for with a hierarchical range of mass-produced products of varying quality, thus advancing the rule of complete quantification. Everybody must behave (as if spontaneously) in accordance with his previously determined and indexed level, and choose the category of mass product turned out for his type. Consumers appear as statistics on research organisation charts, and are divided by income groups into red, green, and blue areas; the technique is that used for any type of propaganda."
"How formalised the procedure is can be seen when the mechanically differentiated products prove to be all alike in the end. That the difference between the Chrysler range and General Motors products is basically illusory strikes every child with a keen interest in varieties. What connoisseurs discuss as good or bad points serve only to perpetuate the semblance of competition and range of choice. The same applies to the Warner Brothers and Metro Goldwyn Mayer productions. But even the differences between the more expensive and cheaper models put out by the same firm steadily diminish: for automobiles, there are such differences as the number of cylinders, cubic capacity, details of patented gadgets; and for films there are the number of stars, the extravagant use of technology, labor, and equipment, and the introduction of the latest psychological formulas. The universal criterion of merit is the amount of “conspicuous production,” of blatant cash investment. The varying budgets in the culture industry do not bear the slightest relation to factual values, to the meaning of the products themselves."
"The connoisseur and the expert are despised for their pretentious claim to know better than the others, even though culture is democratic and distributes its privileges to all. In view of the ideological truce, the conformism of the buyers and the effrontery of the producers who supply them prevail. The result is a constant reproduction of the same thing."
And, this long section on language:
"By the language he speaks, he makes his own contribution to culture as publicity. The more completely language is lost in the announcement, the more words are debased as substantial vehicles of meaning and become signs devoid of quality; the more purely and transparently words communicate what is intended, the more impenetrable they become.
The demythologisation of language, taken as an element of the whole process of enlightenment, is a relapse into magic. Word and essential content were distinct yet inseparable from one another. Concepts like melancholy and history, even life, were recognised in the word, which separated them out and preserved them. Its form simultaneously constituted and reflected them. The absolute separation, which makes the moving accidental and its relation to the object arbitrary, puts an end to the superstitious fusion of word and thing.
Anything in a determined literal sequence which goes beyond the correlation to the event is rejected as unclear and as verbal metaphysics. But the result is that the word, which can now be only a sign without any meaning, becomes so fixed to the thing that it is just a petrified formula. This affects language and object alike. Instead of making the object experiential, the purified word treats it as an abstract instance, and everything else (now excluded by the demand for ruthless clarity from expression – itself now banished) fades away in reality. A left-half at football, a black-shirt, a member of the Hitler Youth, and so on, are no more than names. If before its rationalisation the word had given rise to lies as well as to longing, now, after its rationalisation, it is a straitjacket for longing more even than for lies.
The blindness and dumbness of the data to which positivism reduces the world pass over into language itself, which restricts itself to recording those data. Terms themselves become impenetrable; they obtain a striking force, a power of adhesion and repulsion which makes them like their extreme opposite, incantations. They come to be a kind of trick, because the name of the prima donna is cooked up in the studio on a statistical basis, or because a welfare state is anathematised by using taboo terms such as “bureaucrats” or “intellectuals,” or because base practice uses the name of the country as a charm.
In general, the name – to which magic most easily attaches – is undergoing a chemical change: a metamorphosis into capricious, manipulable designations, whose effect is admittedly now calculable, but which for that very reason is just as despotic as that of the archaic name. First names, those archaic remnants, have been brought up to date either by stylisation as advertising trade-marks (film stars’ surnames have become first names), or by collective standardisation."
And, the last line: "The triumph of advertising in the culture industry is that consumers feel compelled to buy and use its products even though they see through them."
Here are a few quotes of interest:
"The ruthless unity in the culture industry is evidence of what will happen in politics. Marked differentiations such as those of A and B films, or of stories in magazines in different price ranges, depend not so much on subject matter as on classifying, organising, and labelling consumers. Something is provided for all so that none may escape; the distinctions are emphasised and extended. The public is catered for with a hierarchical range of mass-produced products of varying quality, thus advancing the rule of complete quantification. Everybody must behave (as if spontaneously) in accordance with his previously determined and indexed level, and choose the category of mass product turned out for his type. Consumers appear as statistics on research organisation charts, and are divided by income groups into red, green, and blue areas; the technique is that used for any type of propaganda."
"How formalised the procedure is can be seen when the mechanically differentiated products prove to be all alike in the end. That the difference between the Chrysler range and General Motors products is basically illusory strikes every child with a keen interest in varieties. What connoisseurs discuss as good or bad points serve only to perpetuate the semblance of competition and range of choice. The same applies to the Warner Brothers and Metro Goldwyn Mayer productions. But even the differences between the more expensive and cheaper models put out by the same firm steadily diminish: for automobiles, there are such differences as the number of cylinders, cubic capacity, details of patented gadgets; and for films there are the number of stars, the extravagant use of technology, labor, and equipment, and the introduction of the latest psychological formulas. The universal criterion of merit is the amount of “conspicuous production,” of blatant cash investment. The varying budgets in the culture industry do not bear the slightest relation to factual values, to the meaning of the products themselves."
"The connoisseur and the expert are despised for their pretentious claim to know better than the others, even though culture is democratic and distributes its privileges to all. In view of the ideological truce, the conformism of the buyers and the effrontery of the producers who supply them prevail. The result is a constant reproduction of the same thing."
And, this long section on language:
"By the language he speaks, he makes his own contribution to culture as publicity. The more completely language is lost in the announcement, the more words are debased as substantial vehicles of meaning and become signs devoid of quality; the more purely and transparently words communicate what is intended, the more impenetrable they become.
The demythologisation of language, taken as an element of the whole process of enlightenment, is a relapse into magic. Word and essential content were distinct yet inseparable from one another. Concepts like melancholy and history, even life, were recognised in the word, which separated them out and preserved them. Its form simultaneously constituted and reflected them. The absolute separation, which makes the moving accidental and its relation to the object arbitrary, puts an end to the superstitious fusion of word and thing.
Anything in a determined literal sequence which goes beyond the correlation to the event is rejected as unclear and as verbal metaphysics. But the result is that the word, which can now be only a sign without any meaning, becomes so fixed to the thing that it is just a petrified formula. This affects language and object alike. Instead of making the object experiential, the purified word treats it as an abstract instance, and everything else (now excluded by the demand for ruthless clarity from expression – itself now banished) fades away in reality. A left-half at football, a black-shirt, a member of the Hitler Youth, and so on, are no more than names. If before its rationalisation the word had given rise to lies as well as to longing, now, after its rationalisation, it is a straitjacket for longing more even than for lies.
The blindness and dumbness of the data to which positivism reduces the world pass over into language itself, which restricts itself to recording those data. Terms themselves become impenetrable; they obtain a striking force, a power of adhesion and repulsion which makes them like their extreme opposite, incantations. They come to be a kind of trick, because the name of the prima donna is cooked up in the studio on a statistical basis, or because a welfare state is anathematised by using taboo terms such as “bureaucrats” or “intellectuals,” or because base practice uses the name of the country as a charm.
In general, the name – to which magic most easily attaches – is undergoing a chemical change: a metamorphosis into capricious, manipulable designations, whose effect is admittedly now calculable, but which for that very reason is just as despotic as that of the archaic name. First names, those archaic remnants, have been brought up to date either by stylisation as advertising trade-marks (film stars’ surnames have become first names), or by collective standardisation."
And, the last line: "The triumph of advertising in the culture industry is that consumers feel compelled to buy and use its products even though they see through them."
Notes from our class discussion on mapping ideas
General Observations:
1. Challenges of reading theory; usefulness of concrete examples of translations to help illustrate theoretical problems.
2. Utopian Theorists of Translation and mystical notions of language: Benjamin; Gasset y Ortega
3. Anthropological views of language; cultural influences in languages (how do we link study of culture and study of language/translation?)
4. What is and isn't translateable? Meaning of words; emotional content
5. What gets translated is the 'gaps': see Benjamin 756 'underneath language are intentions' and 'pure language comes from harmony of various modes of intention'); Ortega & Gasset 104 'translating silences' and the secrets of those silences.
6. Translation across cultures: "Treacherous Translation" (Suh, 172) and Benjamin (81)
7. Purpose of language: Paz 157; Rabassa 4; Ortega y Gasset 101; Innis 110
8. 'Spirit' vs Literal translation... which is more important? Benjamin 71; Ortega y Gasset 110; Bonnefoy 188; Sheer 239 and footnote on 243;Xuanmin 47; Nabakov 127 and 134-5
9. Can everything be translated? Paz 155; Ortega y Gasset 102; Benjamin 72; Derrida 178; Innis 113; Bonnefoy 186
10. Translation as cultural change: Xuomain and Suh
11. Purpose of Translation: Benjamin 80; Paz 158
12. Things to consider: Nabokov 137; Rabassa 10; Wang 410; Felstiner 100
13. Deficiencies of language: Rabassa 2-3; OyG 103; Innis
14. Translation is possible and desireable: OyG 108; Schleiermacher 52 vs Translation is not possible: Schogt 194
15. French is a terrible language: OyG 112
16. Good translation warps the target language.
17. Analyzing Understanding through not understanding (radical translation and interpretation (Chinese authors); unspeakable or unsaid; concrete ideas v abstract
18. Cultural lens of translation (examples from reading: Merchant of Venice, Korean play into Japanese; translating phrases from Craft)
19. Shiloh's themes: General Translation; spriritual transl; philosophy of transl; linguistics in transl.
20. Big picture themes: Purpose of transl; culture and transl;
21. Understanding transl through examples that we don't really understand
22. Failures or deficiencies of language.
Specific Authors:
Vigorito: How much would this book be different if these words weren't used?; Can the mind alter language, does language alter the mind (101); people learning slang terms; slang terms becoming commonplace and falling into general use by everyone (208)
Pinsky
Schleiermacher
Derrida
Luo
Scherr (on Gasparov): Balance or dichotomy between literal and figurative language; index of exactness and index of freedom (245)
Benjamin: page 756 'underneath language are intentions' and 'pure language comes from harmony of various modes of intention'; Translation across cultures (81); What is translation for? (71); quote from Pannwitz, "The basic error of the translator is that he preserves the state in which his own language happens to be instead of allowing his language to be powerfully affected by the foreign tongue."; "Rather, all suprahistorical kinship of languages rests as a whole -- an intention, however, which no single lanugage can attain by itself but which is realized only by the totalit of their intentions, supplementing each otehr: pure language" (75); who is translation for? (71;
Ortega y Gasset: Translating silences (104); We think in a certain language O&G 107; Stretching target and original languages O&G 108, 112; Diggability/creative style creates problems in translation OyG 96
Paz
Felstiner
Nabokov
Bonnefoy
Rabassa: Dog does not equal Cobaka or Cane or perro or chien
Innis: quote from Gadamer on page 112; Translation as a moving horizon 112
Wang & Zhang;
Suh: Translation across cultures (172);
Jakobson: Language and culture (144)
Schogt
Tokowicz & Kroll
1. Challenges of reading theory; usefulness of concrete examples of translations to help illustrate theoretical problems.
2. Utopian Theorists of Translation and mystical notions of language: Benjamin; Gasset y Ortega
3. Anthropological views of language; cultural influences in languages (how do we link study of culture and study of language/translation?)
4. What is and isn't translateable? Meaning of words; emotional content
5. What gets translated is the 'gaps': see Benjamin 756 'underneath language are intentions' and 'pure language comes from harmony of various modes of intention'); Ortega & Gasset 104 'translating silences' and the secrets of those silences.
6. Translation across cultures: "Treacherous Translation" (Suh, 172) and Benjamin (81)
7. Purpose of language: Paz 157; Rabassa 4; Ortega y Gasset 101; Innis 110
8. 'Spirit' vs Literal translation... which is more important? Benjamin 71; Ortega y Gasset 110; Bonnefoy 188; Sheer 239 and footnote on 243;Xuanmin 47; Nabakov 127 and 134-5
9. Can everything be translated? Paz 155; Ortega y Gasset 102; Benjamin 72; Derrida 178; Innis 113; Bonnefoy 186
10. Translation as cultural change: Xuomain and Suh
11. Purpose of Translation: Benjamin 80; Paz 158
12. Things to consider: Nabokov 137; Rabassa 10; Wang 410; Felstiner 100
13. Deficiencies of language: Rabassa 2-3; OyG 103; Innis
14. Translation is possible and desireable: OyG 108; Schleiermacher 52 vs Translation is not possible: Schogt 194
15. French is a terrible language: OyG 112
16. Good translation warps the target language.
17. Analyzing Understanding through not understanding (radical translation and interpretation (Chinese authors); unspeakable or unsaid; concrete ideas v abstract
18. Cultural lens of translation (examples from reading: Merchant of Venice, Korean play into Japanese; translating phrases from Craft)
19. Shiloh's themes: General Translation; spriritual transl; philosophy of transl; linguistics in transl.
20. Big picture themes: Purpose of transl; culture and transl;
21. Understanding transl through examples that we don't really understand
22. Failures or deficiencies of language.
Specific Authors:
Vigorito: How much would this book be different if these words weren't used?; Can the mind alter language, does language alter the mind (101); people learning slang terms; slang terms becoming commonplace and falling into general use by everyone (208)
Pinsky
Schleiermacher
Derrida
Luo
Scherr (on Gasparov): Balance or dichotomy between literal and figurative language; index of exactness and index of freedom (245)
Benjamin: page 756 'underneath language are intentions' and 'pure language comes from harmony of various modes of intention'; Translation across cultures (81); What is translation for? (71); quote from Pannwitz, "The basic error of the translator is that he preserves the state in which his own language happens to be instead of allowing his language to be powerfully affected by the foreign tongue."; "Rather, all suprahistorical kinship of languages rests as a whole -- an intention, however, which no single lanugage can attain by itself but which is realized only by the totalit of their intentions, supplementing each otehr: pure language" (75); who is translation for? (71;
Ortega y Gasset: Translating silences (104); We think in a certain language O&G 107; Stretching target and original languages O&G 108, 112; Diggability/creative style creates problems in translation OyG 96
Paz
Felstiner
Nabokov
Bonnefoy
Rabassa: Dog does not equal Cobaka or Cane or perro or chien
Innis: quote from Gadamer on page 112; Translation as a moving horizon 112
Wang & Zhang;
Suh: Translation across cultures (172);
Jakobson: Language and culture (144)
Schogt
Tokowicz & Kroll
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Shira's Response to Jakobson and Schogt (comments and crit welcome!)
Both Jakobson and Schogt use semiotic concepts to talk about translation; Schogt takes it a step further by exploring the applicability of “semantic theory” to translation. Semiotics studies language as a system of signs. The lexicon of which consists of signifier, signified, and sign (the union of the two). Signs are arbitrary because there is no fixed relationship between signifier and signified. The signified more or less remains the same; ringo and “apple” denote the same thing (though this example is a little arbitrary given they may translate differently as cultural symbols). The trouble is with the communication of signs and signifiers.
Jakobson outlines this problem in his initial example of “cheese.” One doesn’t need a nonlinguistic relationship with the object or lexical code of English to understand a word. Only signs can communicate other signs: “An array of linguistic signs is needed to introduce an unfamiliar word … … the meaning of any linguistic sign is its translation into some further, alternative sign” (145). In other words, the only possible way I can explain the word “cheese” as a class of objects produced by pressed curds is by use of other signs. The word “cheese” is not the real thing but part of a system of signs. To use one of Jakobson’s previous statements: nobody has ever tasted the meaning of a word.
Thus, languages are like codes and translation “involves two equivalent messages in two different codes” (146) because there are no equivalencies between individual code units; the whole system of signs must replace the other system. That is why translation encounters problems with languages that have different components (like language 1 has A and B modes of expression while language 2 has only B (200)). Russian must convey gender: “Languages differ essentially in what they must convey and not in what they may convey” (149).
Schogt does something different with semiotics (or semantics, but discussion of Saussure leads me to believe he means the same thing) in two ways. First, he creates a relationship between translation and semantics (they aren’t close but they’re still related). Semiotics makes the translator’s job harder rather than easier because it exposes the fragility of the connection between the signified and signifier. Prieto’s example shows how the signified can be transmitted innumerable ways: “Prieto starts with the signified, assuming optimistically that people want to say something before they start to speak. How they say what they want to convey depends on a number of factors, the first and most obvious one being the language that is used” (198). If I want to express intense excitement, even within my own language, there are many different ways: “I feel like a kid in a candy shop,” “I could explode, I’m so hyped up,” “there are butterflies in my stomach.” The second thing Schogt does with semantics is assert its limitations: “For texts where cognitive meaning prevails and formal expression of that meaning has no other function than expressing that meaning, the semantic theories are helpful and are adequate for describing the double process of encoding and decoding. For literary texts, it is precisely the literariness that falls outside the domain of semantics” (201). Semantics is only useful in so far as it decodes language with one or few layers of meaning. Literary language uses “the complexities of intention and innuendo” to create new signs (or change old ones) and therefore a semiotic analyst couldn’t rely on their system of interpretation. There are candles as in sticks of wax that burn and there is the candle as in the one that burns out the precise moment Anna Karenina dies.
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