What do you think?
Rate this book
Why X Matters Series
Por qué la traducción importa
En este pequeño e incisivo ensayo, la eminente traductora Edith Grossman reflexiona acerca de la importancia cultural de la traducción, no sólo como el medio que nos permite acceder a la literatura escrita originalmente en uno de los incontables idiomas que no podemos leer, sino como una presencia literaria concreta que nos ayuda a conocer, a percibir desde un ángulo distinto y a atribuir nuevo valor a lo que hasta entonces era desconocido.
Grossman explicita asimismo su concepción del trabajo del traductor como un acto de interpretación crítica, un acto creativo, en suma, que requiere "desarrollar un agudo sentido del estilo en ambos idiomas, afilando y ampliando nuestra conciencia crítica del impacto emocional de las palabras, el aura social que las rodea, el escenario y el clima que las informan, la atmósfera que crean". Y lo fundamenta con dos ejemplos bellos y elocuentes presentados en los últimos capítulos: su propia experiencia como traductora del Quijote (que llevó a Harold Bloom a llamarla la "Glenn Gould" de la traducción) y de la poesía del Siglo de Oro español.
Grossman explicita asimismo su concepción del trabajo del traductor como un acto de interpretación crítica, un acto creativo, en suma, que requiere "desarrollar un agudo sentido del estilo en ambos idiomas, afilando y ampliando nuestra conciencia crítica del impacto emocional de las palabras, el aura social que las rodea, el escenario y el clima que las informan, la atmósfera que crean". Y lo fundamenta con dos ejemplos bellos y elocuentes presentados en los últimos capítulos: su propia experiencia como traductora del Quijote (que llevó a Harold Bloom a llamarla la "Glenn Gould" de la traducción) y de la poesía del Siglo de Oro español.
149 pages, Paperback
First published February 18, 2010
36 people are currently reading
894 people want to read
About the author
Edith Grossman
75 books114 followersEdith Marion Grossman was an American literary translator. Known for her work translating Latin American and Spanish literature to English, she translated the works of Nobel laureate Mario Vargas Llosa, Nobel laureate Gabriel García Márquez, Mayra Montero, Augusto Monterroso, Jaime Manrique, Julián Ríos, Álvaro Mutis, and Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. She was a recipient of the PEN/Ralph Manheim Medal for Translation and the 2022 Thornton Wilder Prize for Translation.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 76 reviews
March 10, 2011
I've read a couple of Grossman's translations, and was looking forward to seeing what she had to say on the art of translation. Not much, as it turns out, though we do learn a lot about her opinions of book reviewers.
I especially took issue with the following sentence:
"I am certainly not lamenting the fact that most reviewers do not make one-for-one lexical comparisons in order to point out whatever mistakes the translator may have made--a useless enterprise that enlightens no one since the book has already been published and errors cannot be rectified until the next printing--but I do regret very sincerely that so few of them have devised an intelligent way to review both the original and its translation within the space limitations imposed by the publication" (32).
One-for-one comparisons seem like a reasonable enough way to comment on a reviewer's issues with a particular translation, given the space limitations Grossman points out. Grossman admits that she values rhythm in a poem over "exact" lexical matches, which is an approach I find problematic--and perhaps this is why this book grates on me so much. For example, in Jaime Manrique's poem "Mambo," she translates the phrase "que no se olvida" as "I remember"--but especially in poetry, where words are few and carefully chosen, not forgetting and remembering are two entirely distinct things. "Fidelity should never be confused with literalness," she writes on page 67, but this is a strange sort of fidelity.
All that aside, there are some nice, warm and fuzzy one-liners floating around in her text about the importance of translation for writers, readers, society at large, and translators themselves. It's worth a skim.
I especially took issue with the following sentence:
"I am certainly not lamenting the fact that most reviewers do not make one-for-one lexical comparisons in order to point out whatever mistakes the translator may have made--a useless enterprise that enlightens no one since the book has already been published and errors cannot be rectified until the next printing--but I do regret very sincerely that so few of them have devised an intelligent way to review both the original and its translation within the space limitations imposed by the publication" (32).
One-for-one comparisons seem like a reasonable enough way to comment on a reviewer's issues with a particular translation, given the space limitations Grossman points out. Grossman admits that she values rhythm in a poem over "exact" lexical matches, which is an approach I find problematic--and perhaps this is why this book grates on me so much. For example, in Jaime Manrique's poem "Mambo," she translates the phrase "que no se olvida" as "I remember"--but especially in poetry, where words are few and carefully chosen, not forgetting and remembering are two entirely distinct things. "Fidelity should never be confused with literalness," she writes on page 67, but this is a strange sort of fidelity.
All that aside, there are some nice, warm and fuzzy one-liners floating around in her text about the importance of translation for writers, readers, society at large, and translators themselves. It's worth a skim.
September 3, 2012
Edith Grossman, renowned Spanish-to-English literary translator, has taken on the challenge of explaining why translation matters. She scarcely mentions non-literary translation, so a better title would be: Why does literary translation matter?
Another book on the subject of translation is “Is that a Fish in your Eye?” by David Bellos. He does discuss other forms of translation, such as business translation, and offers a good explication of Google Translate, which is clearly not on Ms. Grossman’s radar screen.
Both books are extended essays on the art, value, and essence of translation. Both are thoughtful, philosophical, and replete with intriguing references.
Both make the point that without translated literature, we would be deprived of access to world literature with all of its cultural treasures. Ms. Grossman points out that only 2-3 percent of books published in the United States and the United Kingdom are literary translations. I regard this fact as a wonderful counter-argument to those who maintain that there is no value in studying foreign languages. Essentially, monolingual Americans are cut off from the vast majority of global literary production, even if the most prodigious classics are available.
Ms. Grossman explains the enormous challenge posed by the task of “bringing over” works of prose and poetry into English. She devotes a chapter to her experience translating Cervantes’ “Don Quixote” and a separate chapter to her approach to a variety of poems, which are reproduced in both Spanish and English. She offers a very persuasive case that literary translation is a highly creative endeavor worthy of more recognition. Consider this cri du coeur about the low standing of literary translators:
“Putting to the side for a moment the dire state of publishing or the lamentable tendency of too many publishers to treat translators cavalierly or dismiss them as irrelevant, the fact is that it is no wonder translators are so frequently ignored. We seem to be a familiar part of the natural landscape—so customary and commonplace that we run the risk of becoming invisible.”
This reminds me of a passage in Ms. Grossman’s own fine translation of “The Bad Girl” by Mario Vargas Llosa. A professional diplomatic translator/interpreter is counseling his protégé to abandon his foray into literary translation: “Your livelihood is at risk. A literary translator aspires to be a writer: that is, he’s a frustrated pencil pusher. Somebody who’ll never be resigned to disappearing into his work, as good interpreters do. Don’t renounce your status as a nonexistent gentleman, dear friend, unless you wish to end up a clochard.”
This book represents Ms. Grossman’s rejoinder.
Another book on the subject of translation is “Is that a Fish in your Eye?” by David Bellos. He does discuss other forms of translation, such as business translation, and offers a good explication of Google Translate, which is clearly not on Ms. Grossman’s radar screen.
Both books are extended essays on the art, value, and essence of translation. Both are thoughtful, philosophical, and replete with intriguing references.
Both make the point that without translated literature, we would be deprived of access to world literature with all of its cultural treasures. Ms. Grossman points out that only 2-3 percent of books published in the United States and the United Kingdom are literary translations. I regard this fact as a wonderful counter-argument to those who maintain that there is no value in studying foreign languages. Essentially, monolingual Americans are cut off from the vast majority of global literary production, even if the most prodigious classics are available.
Ms. Grossman explains the enormous challenge posed by the task of “bringing over” works of prose and poetry into English. She devotes a chapter to her experience translating Cervantes’ “Don Quixote” and a separate chapter to her approach to a variety of poems, which are reproduced in both Spanish and English. She offers a very persuasive case that literary translation is a highly creative endeavor worthy of more recognition. Consider this cri du coeur about the low standing of literary translators:
“Putting to the side for a moment the dire state of publishing or the lamentable tendency of too many publishers to treat translators cavalierly or dismiss them as irrelevant, the fact is that it is no wonder translators are so frequently ignored. We seem to be a familiar part of the natural landscape—so customary and commonplace that we run the risk of becoming invisible.”
This reminds me of a passage in Ms. Grossman’s own fine translation of “The Bad Girl” by Mario Vargas Llosa. A professional diplomatic translator/interpreter is counseling his protégé to abandon his foray into literary translation: “Your livelihood is at risk. A literary translator aspires to be a writer: that is, he’s a frustrated pencil pusher. Somebody who’ll never be resigned to disappearing into his work, as good interpreters do. Don’t renounce your status as a nonexistent gentleman, dear friend, unless you wish to end up a clochard.”
This book represents Ms. Grossman’s rejoinder.
August 7, 2010
Why Translation Matters is divided up into several several sections: an Introduction, Why Translation Matters, Translating Cervantes, and Translating Poetry. Unfortunately, though there were interesting points in them, almost the entirety of the first two sections and most of the third could have been probably combined into one and titled "Translators Get No Respect". It seemed less a defence of translation, less an explanation of just why translation is a valuable literary function, and more an airing of grievances. (The bits that did seem to match the title, or which presented a history of translation's acceptance among writers and cultures, were interesting at least, but they often seemed buried by the rest.)
When, near the end of Translating Cervantes, she finally did get around to discussing translating Don Quixote, it was certainly interesting, but by that point the majority of the book had already been taken up with complaints about reviewers and publishers.
Overall, a disappointment. There is a good, easily accessible to the general public, work defending translation as art rather than just copying someone else's words, but this isn't it. On the other hand, her judicious use of quotations from other writers speaking in defence of translation have put me on the path of other, potentially better works on the subject.
When, near the end of Translating Cervantes, she finally did get around to discussing translating Don Quixote, it was certainly interesting, but by that point the majority of the book had already been taken up with complaints about reviewers and publishers.
Overall, a disappointment. There is a good, easily accessible to the general public, work defending translation as art rather than just copying someone else's words, but this isn't it. On the other hand, her judicious use of quotations from other writers speaking in defence of translation have put me on the path of other, potentially better works on the subject.
November 11, 2010
Being a person who appreciates the work of translators, I really wanted to like this book. Unfortunately, I didn't. I was expecting a brilliant defense of translation as art and craft, and all this book does is say over and over, "Translation is an art! Translation is a craft! Please credit us (translators) in your book reviews!" Although the section on Golden-Age Spanish poetry, with its side-by-side comparisons of the original and translated texts, was fascinating.
If you want a better argument for why translation matters, please read Richard Pevear's introduction to his & Larissa Volokhonsky's translation of [i]The Brothers Karamazov[/i]. And then read the whole book, actually.
If you want a better argument for why translation matters, please read Richard Pevear's introduction to his & Larissa Volokhonsky's translation of [i]The Brothers Karamazov[/i]. And then read the whole book, actually.
April 25, 2023
I actually started reading this in, like, February, and I totally forgot I was reading it at all until I found it in a suitcase. That should tell you something about the reading experience.
It's not that I don't respect Edith Grossman's translation creds; nothing could be further from the truth. She's a legend, and rightly so. I've read and enjoyed a couple of her translations from Spanish. My issue is more that I don't think I'm this book's intended audience. As a translator myself, with a master's in the subject, I've covered a lot of what Grossman writes about in classes. Although she writes clearly and often elegantly, she didn't add much to the subject I didn't already know. I liked her breakdown of her poetry translation process the best; some have criticized her less-than-literal approach, but a clunky poem is such a terrible thing that I can't be anywhere but on her side.
Recommended to those who don't know much about translation, but want to know more!
It's not that I don't respect Edith Grossman's translation creds; nothing could be further from the truth. She's a legend, and rightly so. I've read and enjoyed a couple of her translations from Spanish. My issue is more that I don't think I'm this book's intended audience. As a translator myself, with a master's in the subject, I've covered a lot of what Grossman writes about in classes. Although she writes clearly and often elegantly, she didn't add much to the subject I didn't already know. I liked her breakdown of her poetry translation process the best; some have criticized her less-than-literal approach, but a clunky poem is such a terrible thing that I can't be anywhere but on her side.
Recommended to those who don't know much about translation, but want to know more!
Read
September 4, 2022As with all professions even remotely related to my degree, I will now proceed to fantasise about the future and plan my entire life trajectory so that it revolves around literary translation. See you in 5-7 business days when I inevitably have a new obsession.
September 2, 2025
Finished withe the book, finished with the dissertation.
Edith Grossman held my metaphorical hand throughout writing it, and really opened my eyes to how translators view their practice.
This book allowed me to have just that bit more knowledge when I was interviewing translators so that I wasn't a complete blind fool stumbling in a dark room.
Edith Grossman held my metaphorical hand throughout writing it, and really opened my eyes to how translators view their practice.
This book allowed me to have just that bit more knowledge when I was interviewing translators so that I wasn't a complete blind fool stumbling in a dark room.
October 4, 2023
மனித யத்தனம் வழி இடமாற்றம் பெரும் இரு பண்பாட்டு குறியீடுகள் மொழியில் வெளிப்படும் அழகை இந்நூல் எளிதாக விளக்குகிறது. மொழிபெயர்ப்பாளர்கள் ஏன் பதிப்பகங்களால், விமர்சகர்களால் அட்டையில் பெயர் போடாத அளவிற்கு இருட்டடிப்பு செய்யப்படுகிறார்கள் என்ற ஆதங்கம் நிறைய இடங்களில் வெளிப்படுகிறது.
March 5, 2020
Saya tertarik membaca buku ini karena punya hobi menerjemahkan, khususnya karya fiksi. Memang buku ini secara khusus membicarakan tentang penerjemahan karya sastra. Ada dua bagian yang masing-masingnya berisi pengalaman penulis dalam menerjemahkan novel dan puisi. Jadi penerjemahan yang diangkat dalam buku ini adalah penerjemahan sebagai seni, bukan penerjemahan teknis yang objeknya berupa dokumen dan sebagainya.
Buku ini bisa relatable juga bagi orang yang punya hobi mengarang. Sebab, dalam proses kreatifnya, hampir pasti seorang pengarang terpengaruh oleh karya-karya asing. Sebelum seorang pengarang belajar membaca dalam bahasa asing, mestilah terlebih dahulu ia mengonsumsi karya yang telah diterjemahkan ke bahasa ibunya. Entahkah pengarang Indonesia atau pengarang negara lain, karya-karya asing atau terjemahan membantu mereka belajar menghasilkan karya kelas dunia.
Banyak pula pengarang yang sekaligus penerjemah. Dengan menerjemahkan, mereka membaca (: mempelajari) karya orang lain secara mendalam. Keterkaitan antara kepengarangan dan kepenerjemahan ini sepertinya pernah beberapa kali dibahas dalam jurnal Eka Kurniawan.
Bahkan meskipun kita sekadar pembaca tanpa hobi menerjemahkan atau mengarang, sebagai orang Indonesia, pasti ada banyak karya terjemahan yang telah mewarnai masa awal kita gemar membaca. Apalagi bagi anak-anak tahun '90-an ke bawah, sebut saja serial Harry Potter, Lima Sekawan, Winnetou, Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, dan seterusnya, sampai ke komik-komik Jepang; itu semua kan karya terjemahan yang dinikmati banyak pembaca Indonesia sejak anak-anak.
Namun sayangnya peran penerjemah kurang diapresiasi; namanya tidak segemerlap penulis karya yang dia terjemahkan. Padahal yang dilakukan seorang penerjemah itu kurang lebih seperti menulis ulang karya orang lain, dari bahasa asing ke bahasanya sendiri. Satu karya bisa diterjemahkan oleh beberapa penerjemah, dan tiap-tiap hasilnya akan lain daripada yang lain. Dengan begitu, karya terjemahan seolah-olah bukannya tanpa orisinalitas sama sekali.
Entahkah di Indonesia, sebab buku ini secara khusus mengangkat keadaan di negara penulis berdomisili, yaitu Amerika Serikat. Rupanya di negara-negara adikuasa yang bahasanya menjadi lingua franca dunia dewasa ini, yaitu Amerika Serikat dan Inggris Raya, karya terjemahan cenderung didiskreditkan. Kalau di negara-negara lain (yang sepertinya termasuk negara kita) jumlah buku terjemahan yang terbit bisa sampai 50%, di Amerika dan Inggris jumlahnya minim sekali; seperti ada suatu gengsi yang terlalu tinggi atau sikap menutup diri dari kebudayaan asing.
Malah teman chat saya dari AS mengimbuhkan bahwa secara umum masyarakatnya memang tidak suka membaca buku, jangankan yang terjemahan. Mengherankan, sebab ada begitu banyak buku karya penulis AS yang diterjemahkan ke bahasa Indonesia sehingga timbul asumsi bahwa masyarakatnya pun gemar membaca.
Lebih jauh lagi disebutkan dalam buku ini, di antara orang Amerika dan orang Inggris pun belum tentu bisa menerima keragaman dalam bahasa satu sama lain yang padahal sama-sama bahasa Inggris.
Buku ini juga mengangkat realita menyedihkan kiwari, tentang semakin sedikitnya orang yang membaca buku. Bahkan sekalipun kita pembaca rakus, yang rajin membeli buku-buku baru, tekanan hidup dewasa ini semakin mempersempit waktu kita untuk membaca.
Di samping topik-topik relatable yang makanya saya sukai itu, buku ini bisa menjadi bacaan yang cukup sulit dan membosankan; khususnya kalau kita kurang mengerti atau tidak berminat terhadap ilmu linguistik, puisi, dan semacamnya.
Buku ini bisa relatable juga bagi orang yang punya hobi mengarang. Sebab, dalam proses kreatifnya, hampir pasti seorang pengarang terpengaruh oleh karya-karya asing. Sebelum seorang pengarang belajar membaca dalam bahasa asing, mestilah terlebih dahulu ia mengonsumsi karya yang telah diterjemahkan ke bahasa ibunya. Entahkah pengarang Indonesia atau pengarang negara lain, karya-karya asing atau terjemahan membantu mereka belajar menghasilkan karya kelas dunia.
Banyak pula pengarang yang sekaligus penerjemah. Dengan menerjemahkan, mereka membaca (: mempelajari) karya orang lain secara mendalam. Keterkaitan antara kepengarangan dan kepenerjemahan ini sepertinya pernah beberapa kali dibahas dalam jurnal Eka Kurniawan.
Bahkan meskipun kita sekadar pembaca tanpa hobi menerjemahkan atau mengarang, sebagai orang Indonesia, pasti ada banyak karya terjemahan yang telah mewarnai masa awal kita gemar membaca. Apalagi bagi anak-anak tahun '90-an ke bawah, sebut saja serial Harry Potter, Lima Sekawan, Winnetou, Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, dan seterusnya, sampai ke komik-komik Jepang; itu semua kan karya terjemahan yang dinikmati banyak pembaca Indonesia sejak anak-anak.
Namun sayangnya peran penerjemah kurang diapresiasi; namanya tidak segemerlap penulis karya yang dia terjemahkan. Padahal yang dilakukan seorang penerjemah itu kurang lebih seperti menulis ulang karya orang lain, dari bahasa asing ke bahasanya sendiri. Satu karya bisa diterjemahkan oleh beberapa penerjemah, dan tiap-tiap hasilnya akan lain daripada yang lain. Dengan begitu, karya terjemahan seolah-olah bukannya tanpa orisinalitas sama sekali.
Entahkah di Indonesia, sebab buku ini secara khusus mengangkat keadaan di negara penulis berdomisili, yaitu Amerika Serikat. Rupanya di negara-negara adikuasa yang bahasanya menjadi lingua franca dunia dewasa ini, yaitu Amerika Serikat dan Inggris Raya, karya terjemahan cenderung didiskreditkan. Kalau di negara-negara lain (yang sepertinya termasuk negara kita) jumlah buku terjemahan yang terbit bisa sampai 50%, di Amerika dan Inggris jumlahnya minim sekali; seperti ada suatu gengsi yang terlalu tinggi atau sikap menutup diri dari kebudayaan asing.
Malah teman chat saya dari AS mengimbuhkan bahwa secara umum masyarakatnya memang tidak suka membaca buku, jangankan yang terjemahan. Mengherankan, sebab ada begitu banyak buku karya penulis AS yang diterjemahkan ke bahasa Indonesia sehingga timbul asumsi bahwa masyarakatnya pun gemar membaca.
Lebih jauh lagi disebutkan dalam buku ini, di antara orang Amerika dan orang Inggris pun belum tentu bisa menerima keragaman dalam bahasa satu sama lain yang padahal sama-sama bahasa Inggris.
Buku ini juga mengangkat realita menyedihkan kiwari, tentang semakin sedikitnya orang yang membaca buku. Bahkan sekalipun kita pembaca rakus, yang rajin membeli buku-buku baru, tekanan hidup dewasa ini semakin mempersempit waktu kita untuk membaca.
Di samping topik-topik relatable yang makanya saya sukai itu, buku ini bisa menjadi bacaan yang cukup sulit dan membosankan; khususnya kalau kita kurang mengerti atau tidak berminat terhadap ilmu linguistik, puisi, dan semacamnya.
December 9, 2010
Interesting account/defense of the art of translation. At times I both sympathized with and was annoyed by how defensive Grossman occasionally became: it’s true that most people, from highly esteemed literary critics down to myself, don’t give translation enough thought, tending to ignore it when it’s done well and mention it only to criticize. (If you go back through my reviews of translated books, I’m sure you will indeed find that where I’ve mentioned the translation/translator at all, it’s to bitch about how clunky it is.) Do translators deserve more credit for what they do? Absolutely. Is translating a book the same as writing one, so that, for example, my copy of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle should read “A Novel by Haruki Murakami and Jay Rubin”? Every instinct of mine—half readerly, half writerly—screams no no NO.
And yet, as Grossman illustrates in this book—and as the aforementioned Rubin discusses in his quasi-bio, Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words—the best translators, the ones whose work is not clunky, are the ones who are not literalists, who do the most shaping and rewriting. Now, I would argue that this is still not the same as writing a novel, but it’s a skill that I would agree is in need of more recognition. (It’s also one involving a degree of license that can be easily abused—I still remember with horror a French translation of Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere that I bought in Paris and struggled through back when my French was not so poor; the idiot translator had moved huge chunks of text around and added entirely new scenes. Sacrilege!) So yes, I would say that we should celebrate good translators, and put their names on the covers of books, and mention them in more than a cursory way in reviews, whenever possible. It’s either that or learn lots and lots of other languages.
...I wish I could do the latter, honestly, because when I start to think too much about how I’ve never really read Murakami or Marías or Tolstoy—not as they were really written, not truly—I start to feel panicky, like an existential crisis might be coming on. Um. When those instant language-learning chips become available, sign me right up.
And yet, as Grossman illustrates in this book—and as the aforementioned Rubin discusses in his quasi-bio, Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words—the best translators, the ones whose work is not clunky, are the ones who are not literalists, who do the most shaping and rewriting. Now, I would argue that this is still not the same as writing a novel, but it’s a skill that I would agree is in need of more recognition. (It’s also one involving a degree of license that can be easily abused—I still remember with horror a French translation of Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere that I bought in Paris and struggled through back when my French was not so poor; the idiot translator had moved huge chunks of text around and added entirely new scenes. Sacrilege!) So yes, I would say that we should celebrate good translators, and put their names on the covers of books, and mention them in more than a cursory way in reviews, whenever possible. It’s either that or learn lots and lots of other languages.
...I wish I could do the latter, honestly, because when I start to think too much about how I’ve never really read Murakami or Marías or Tolstoy—not as they were really written, not truly—I start to feel panicky, like an existential crisis might be coming on. Um. When those instant language-learning chips become available, sign me right up.
July 24, 2010
I was pretty excited about this book, thinking it would give me enough to think about without requiring me to really become a scholar of the field; I'm a big fan of the Very Short Introduction series, and also a dilettante, so I figured this'd be perfect. It also probably counts that I spent a year in a translation studies department overseas, without really understanding what was going on well enough to really form opinions and prejudices.
Well, this book, for the most part, didn't help. Grossman seems pretty comfortable swathing her writing in cliche and commonplace-- translation matters because it brings people together, and shows we share a common experience, except when we don't. English speaking presses don't publish enough translations. Reviewers don't know what do to with translations. Duh, duh, and duh. None of these ideas are really interesting enough on their own, and she doesn't really go into any of them deeply enough to, I don't know, make something of the problem beyond what is obvious and could be put on a bumper sticker.
The final chapter, on translating poetry, is pretty good, for taking us through her process and goals, how she tackles a translation. And likewise, the chapter on Cervantes is almost as good (though not quite). So it's not like there's nothing here, but there's an awful lot left out.
Well, this book, for the most part, didn't help. Grossman seems pretty comfortable swathing her writing in cliche and commonplace-- translation matters because it brings people together, and shows we share a common experience, except when we don't. English speaking presses don't publish enough translations. Reviewers don't know what do to with translations. Duh, duh, and duh. None of these ideas are really interesting enough on their own, and she doesn't really go into any of them deeply enough to, I don't know, make something of the problem beyond what is obvious and could be put on a bumper sticker.
The final chapter, on translating poetry, is pretty good, for taking us through her process and goals, how she tackles a translation. And likewise, the chapter on Cervantes is almost as good (though not quite). So it's not like there's nothing here, but there's an awful lot left out.
September 22, 2012
This book is, to put it nicely, pretty useless. It sings praises to translators / translations but it's just so oblivious to the problems involved in translation e.g. cultural appropriation, translators acting as 'guardians' of a certain foreign culture, translators purposely mistranslating texts, especially non-Western ones, to 'clean' them up / do away with references to sex - or, on the contrary, making the texts really 'sensual' (good example for this are the various translations of Arabian Nights), it's just extremely frustrating. I'm an amateur translator (if such a thing exists?) - I love moving texts from Romanian to English and vice versa. I love it because it's an interesting creative exercise and I think it sharpens your linguistic / writing skills in many ways - but, at the same time, when I'm translating I am constantly aware of all the problems that come from moving texts from one culture to the other - translation is not just a language game, it's an act of interference with (other) cultures. Grossman ignores the grave importance of this and instead gives a load of watered down liberal humanism nonsense about how we discover the ~universality~ of ~human experience~ through translated texts.
March 21, 2016
Мое глубокое убеждение — переводчик должен переводить, а не разговаривать о переводе. Бывают, конечно, исключения, но они редки — как вот эта книжка, построенная на лекциях, например, но до определенной степени. Эдит Гроссмен, выдающаяся переводчица с испанского на английский, — совершенно наш чувак, и очень многое из того, что она тут говорит, очень точно ложится на картинку переводческого и издательского дела в ръяз-пространстве (надо только заметить Штаты на Россию), — говорит с горечью и желчью, при этом, которые легко переводятся в наши реалии. Приятно иногда эдак ощущать поддержку своих инстинктов с другого берега, нащупывать мысленную опору.
(И все было бы прекрасно, пока речь не заходит о поэзии. Можно сколько угодно помавать руками о тонкостях поэтического перевода, но у Гроссмен в приводимых примерах попросту нет рифмы, а переводит она сонеты XVII века, — и поневоле возникает желание отправить ее с лекторской кафедры не лениться, а исправлять недоделки. Лучше бы о поэзии она вообще не заговаривала, все ощущение портит).
А в целом, хоть ничего принципиально нового она не говорит, я бы смело рекомендовал эту книжку всем коллегам по цеху. Ну чисто вдохновения ради.
(И все было бы прекрасно, пока речь не заходит о поэзии. Можно сколько угодно помавать руками о тонкостях поэтического перевода, но у Гроссмен в приводимых примерах попросту нет рифмы, а переводит она сонеты XVII века, — и поневоле возникает желание отправить ее с лекторской кафедры не лениться, а исправлять недоделки. Лучше бы о поэзии она вообще не заговаривала, все ощущение портит).
А в целом, хоть ничего принципиально нового она не говорит, я бы смело рекомендовал эту книжку всем коллегам по цеху. Ну чисто вдохновения ради.
January 1, 2015
Another brilliant exposé of the cultural world of literature. Edith Grossman writes fluently and insightfully on the role of translation in disseminating seminal literatures across languages.
January 13, 2022
4.25
Very interesting to hear about Grossman's journey as a translator, as well as how it was translating Cervantes' Don Quixote and Spanish poetry.
I first encountered this book when I was searching for books on translation for a children's book I ended up translating in 2020. However, I only really read the book later, when I was taking a class on Don Quixote de La Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. I was inspired by Cervantes' own take on translation and decided to use several passages of this work to inform me on an essay about translation and Quixote. Although I didn't read Grossman's translation of Don Quixote (I read Jarvis', as well as the original), her perspective and experience were very interesting and inspiring.
Grossman's take on translating poetry was also very interesting. Since she translates from Spanish to English, she speaks of the importance of understanding and conveying not only the lyricism and meaning of the original poetry, but to keep in mind that traditional metrics will vary from one language to another. For example, most English speakers will know that a common metric used in sonnets is the iambic pentameter, but it isn't a metric that lends itself as well to Latin-based languages, so it wouldn't make sense to use it when translating "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" (Sonnet 18) into Portuguese.
The less than 5 star review reflects the fact that I don't think it really managed to do what it proposes: explain why translation matters. Rather, Grossman speaks of her own experience and the struggles translators face when trying to have their work recognised. Not to say that she doesn't touch on the subject, she makes several valid points, but her answer to the question doesn't really warrant the length of this work. I understand that she was trying to get people to also see the relevance of translation through her own work and her explanation of it's amazingness, and I personally loved reading about her experience etc, but that wasn't what had been proposed by the series.
Very interesting to hear about Grossman's journey as a translator, as well as how it was translating Cervantes' Don Quixote and Spanish poetry.
I first encountered this book when I was searching for books on translation for a children's book I ended up translating in 2020. However, I only really read the book later, when I was taking a class on Don Quixote de La Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. I was inspired by Cervantes' own take on translation and decided to use several passages of this work to inform me on an essay about translation and Quixote. Although I didn't read Grossman's translation of Don Quixote (I read Jarvis', as well as the original), her perspective and experience were very interesting and inspiring.
Grossman's take on translating poetry was also very interesting. Since she translates from Spanish to English, she speaks of the importance of understanding and conveying not only the lyricism and meaning of the original poetry, but to keep in mind that traditional metrics will vary from one language to another. For example, most English speakers will know that a common metric used in sonnets is the iambic pentameter, but it isn't a metric that lends itself as well to Latin-based languages, so it wouldn't make sense to use it when translating "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" (Sonnet 18) into Portuguese.
The less than 5 star review reflects the fact that I don't think it really managed to do what it proposes: explain why translation matters. Rather, Grossman speaks of her own experience and the struggles translators face when trying to have their work recognised. Not to say that she doesn't touch on the subject, she makes several valid points, but her answer to the question doesn't really warrant the length of this work. I understand that she was trying to get people to also see the relevance of translation through her own work and her explanation of it's amazingness, and I personally loved reading about her experience etc, but that wasn't what had been proposed by the series.
December 21, 2018
An excellent introduction to the joys and difficulties of translation by one of the most famous translators of Latin American literature into English. I learned so much by reading it and am now very fascinated by this invisible art.
I absolutely loved the examples of poetry that she translated and shows in parallel verse. It was a joy to read and a very thought-provoking experience. It made me want to try my hand at translating some of my favorite rancheras into English.
As an absolute bonus, she provides a list of her favorite translations in literature. I can't wait to tackle this list.
I absolutely loved the examples of poetry that she translated and shows in parallel verse. It was a joy to read and a very thought-provoking experience. It made me want to try my hand at translating some of my favorite rancheras into English.
As an absolute bonus, she provides a list of her favorite translations in literature. I can't wait to tackle this list.
January 24, 2025
I am currently a translator, a profession I kind of slipped into indirectly out of convenience and circumstance. This made me very interested in reading this book! It was fascinating and a little humbling. Grossman studied at length for this profession and translates literature, poetry included, which is more challenging than the more prosaic and practical texts I usually work with. It's inspiring and challenging to read her description of how deep she goes into every line of text she translates. And of course, I already am convinced of the importance of translation, but her passionate and well-argued "apologia pro traductione" is articulate and convincing.
February 3, 2021
a delightful introduction to the art of translation perfect for people who have never given it much thought (myself very much included, despite the fact that I love reading books/watching movies originally written in other languages). Edith Grossman is a lovely writer and I absolutely adored Alastair Reid’s “Lo Que Se Pierde / What Gets Lost” — a poem about translation included at the book’s end. the TLDR: put some respect on translation 😤
April 15, 2023
I’ve been travelling in Lisbon recently, and while there’s lots to love about the country, what I was most struck by were the bookstores. Specifically the fact that many of them were stocked full of titles in different languages: French, Spanish, Portuguese, English and others. Often times right alongside each other; instead of the common North American choice of putting them into their own language ghettos.
Walking along those shelves, I was struck at how big the universe of books really is. I know a lot about most of the major titles published in the Anglophone world, and of course many of the literary classics translated from other major languages. But in those shelves, I could see so much that I had never known about, heard about, and will likely never come close to reading.
What’s interesting is this follows along with a statistic that is central to Grossman’s book: did you know that in the industrialized, Anglophone world (i.e. US, UK, Ireland, Australia, NZ, Canada), only about ~2% of books published are translated from other languages? Whereas in many other comparable countries in Europe, this number is north of 40% (which is not just made of up books translated from English)! World literature is incredibly rich, and what we experience in our bookstores is an infinitesimally, tiny portion of that universe. It’s intellectually humbling to think about.
But Grossman’s book doesn’t just dwell on the basic facts about translation in publishing. She describes the actual process of translation, and makes a very compelling case about why it is important. One of the key parts of her argument is understanding how central it has been for the exchange of ideas over time.
She recounts the web of influence of historical translations. Specifically the fact that Cervantes’ Don Quixote heavily influenced Faulkner, who’s works that were translated into Spanish were hugely influential on many Latin American Boom writers such as Garcia Marquez. Of which called Faulkner his favourite writer, and from which his works went on to influence contemporary writers like Salman Rushdie.
This criss-cross of influence between Spanish and English writers throughout time is amazing. It shows the power of translation in breaking down borders between language and history. It also demonstrates the power of translation to make the language richer itself, every act of translation expanding the boundaries of what is possible for each generation of writers. English literature would be so much the poorer if it were not for translated literature.
Which makes it all the more frustrating for Grossman, a translator herself, to see how little we seem to care about translated literature in the Anglophone world. Even to the point of not even recognizing the work of translators, sometimes even refusing to put their names on the books they work on, or having professional book critics fail to acknowledge the work of translators at all.
All of this was interesting and definitely has given me a lot to think about, but I think Grossman could have done more with this book. Most of this book rehashed similar arguments over and over, and also felt like a list of grievances with the industry rather than positing solutions. Overall, I enjoyed this, mostly because world literature is something I’ve been thinking a lot about since I’ve been learning Spanish, but I just wished from more from Grossman here.
Walking along those shelves, I was struck at how big the universe of books really is. I know a lot about most of the major titles published in the Anglophone world, and of course many of the literary classics translated from other major languages. But in those shelves, I could see so much that I had never known about, heard about, and will likely never come close to reading.
What’s interesting is this follows along with a statistic that is central to Grossman’s book: did you know that in the industrialized, Anglophone world (i.e. US, UK, Ireland, Australia, NZ, Canada), only about ~2% of books published are translated from other languages? Whereas in many other comparable countries in Europe, this number is north of 40% (which is not just made of up books translated from English)! World literature is incredibly rich, and what we experience in our bookstores is an infinitesimally, tiny portion of that universe. It’s intellectually humbling to think about.
But Grossman’s book doesn’t just dwell on the basic facts about translation in publishing. She describes the actual process of translation, and makes a very compelling case about why it is important. One of the key parts of her argument is understanding how central it has been for the exchange of ideas over time.
She recounts the web of influence of historical translations. Specifically the fact that Cervantes’ Don Quixote heavily influenced Faulkner, who’s works that were translated into Spanish were hugely influential on many Latin American Boom writers such as Garcia Marquez. Of which called Faulkner his favourite writer, and from which his works went on to influence contemporary writers like Salman Rushdie.
This criss-cross of influence between Spanish and English writers throughout time is amazing. It shows the power of translation in breaking down borders between language and history. It also demonstrates the power of translation to make the language richer itself, every act of translation expanding the boundaries of what is possible for each generation of writers. English literature would be so much the poorer if it were not for translated literature.
Which makes it all the more frustrating for Grossman, a translator herself, to see how little we seem to care about translated literature in the Anglophone world. Even to the point of not even recognizing the work of translators, sometimes even refusing to put their names on the books they work on, or having professional book critics fail to acknowledge the work of translators at all.
All of this was interesting and definitely has given me a lot to think about, but I think Grossman could have done more with this book. Most of this book rehashed similar arguments over and over, and also felt like a list of grievances with the industry rather than positing solutions. Overall, I enjoyed this, mostly because world literature is something I’ve been thinking a lot about since I’ve been learning Spanish, but I just wished from more from Grossman here.
August 15, 2010
Edith Grossman is an award winning translator of Spanish language novelists and poets such as Gabriel García Márquez, Mario Vargas Llosa, Carlos Fuentes, Jaime Manrique and Nicanor Parra, who is best known and respected for her recent translation of Don Quixote (which I read several years ago and highly recommend). This book was based on a series of lectures that she recently gave at Yale, as part of the university's "Why X Matters" series.
The book is divided into four sections: an introduction, in which Grossman convincingly makes the case for the importance of translation for authors, readers, and modern societies; an insightful discussion of the life of a translator, including interactions with writers, readers and publishing companies; a description of the joys and difficulties she faced in translating Don Quixote; and the challenges of translating modern and Renaissance poetry. According to Grossman, a good translator must not simply transcribe the text word by word from one language to the other; she must understand the prose or poem as fully as possible, and rewrite the work in the second language, while maintaining its rhythm and the intent of the writer.
The book includes quotes from influential writers and translators about the importance of this underappreciated craft, and ends with a list of translated books recommended by Grossman.
I found Why Translation Matters to be very well written and most insightful, which gave me a much better understanding and appreciation of the art of translation, in a conversational style that was easy to digest. She skewers publishers and reviewers in the UK and US for their narrow minded attitudes and ignorance about translated literature and the process of translation, which at times seemed overly personal, but this is a minor critique of an otherwise brilliant and highly recommended work.
The book is divided into four sections: an introduction, in which Grossman convincingly makes the case for the importance of translation for authors, readers, and modern societies; an insightful discussion of the life of a translator, including interactions with writers, readers and publishing companies; a description of the joys and difficulties she faced in translating Don Quixote; and the challenges of translating modern and Renaissance poetry. According to Grossman, a good translator must not simply transcribe the text word by word from one language to the other; she must understand the prose or poem as fully as possible, and rewrite the work in the second language, while maintaining its rhythm and the intent of the writer.
The book includes quotes from influential writers and translators about the importance of this underappreciated craft, and ends with a list of translated books recommended by Grossman.
I found Why Translation Matters to be very well written and most insightful, which gave me a much better understanding and appreciation of the art of translation, in a conversational style that was easy to digest. She skewers publishers and reviewers in the UK and US for their narrow minded attitudes and ignorance about translated literature and the process of translation, which at times seemed overly personal, but this is a minor critique of an otherwise brilliant and highly recommended work.
June 2, 2017
Kitap çevirmek kitap yazmak kadar meşakkatli bir süreç. Kitap yazmamış ve çevirmemiş olmama rağmen bu işin zorluğunu buradan hissedebiliyorsam bizzat uygulayan için ne kadar yorucu bir süreçtir.Bu kitapta yazar kitap çevirmeye olan tutkusundan ve hassas olduğu noktalardan öyle güzel bahsetmişki ona katılmamak elde değil.Amerika ve İngiltere üzerinden örnekler verilmiş ama ben ülkemizdeki çeviri kitap okuma oranını da merak ettim doğrusu.Çeviri konusunda yazarın da savunmuş olduğu kitabın kelime kelime çevirisi yerine bağlama uygun çeviriyi mantıklı buluyorum.Güzel bir denemeydi.Her zaman yazara da çevirene de hakkını teslim etmek lazım..
July 18, 2010
The second half of this book focuses on specifics of translation and is therefore interesting. The first half, though, is a tiresome screed of the I-don't-get-no-respect variety. Yes, translators are important, and I understand why they'd be aggrieved by the lack of attention paid to the translation itself in book reviews; but what *makes* a good translation, and what sorts of details should reviewers be attending to? Grossman never says. And translators as important as the authors themselves? Pure egomania.
February 3, 2011
Edith Grossman is my favorite translator and she gives me lots of arguments to counter my son's scholarly preference for reading literature in the original. No, I cannot learn all the languages. Translation is a beautiful thing. I do have to work on my book club; only 9% of our reading was written in a language other than English. Appalling.
July 27, 2013
In this thoughtful short book, Edith Grossman, the famed translator of Cervantes and Marquez, explores historical and contemporary notions of what literary translation is and what it does. In making her argument for the importance of translation, she elegantly demolishes a pile of long-standing cliches and misunderstandings about the topic.
July 27, 2019
This slim volume (119 pages minus lists, acknowledgments, index, etc.) seems intended more for an academic environment rather than a general reader (which is not a criticism, simply an observation).
The book consists of the following sections: An introduction "Why Translation Matters," followed by three chapters: "Authors, Translators, and Readers Today," "Translating Cervantes" (Grossman is quite well-known for her exceptional new translation of Don Quixote (~2002, I believe), and "Translating Poetry." Additional material includes a short "Personal List of Important Translations."
As others have noted, Grossman exclusively discusses literary translation, so the book may more accurately have been entitled "Why Literary Translation Matters."
I completely agree with the author's premise and believe she effectively builds her case as to the huge cultural importance of literary translation, without which, obviously we would only have access to literature originally written in languages we can personally read, which would limit most Americans' options to just English, or possibly one additional language in a few instances.
(Practically) no American living would be able to read Dante, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Ovid, Homer, Sartre, and Cervantes all in their original languages, so the cultural necessity of translation seems self-evident.
Perhaps less self-evident is the additional fact that translation has enriched our vocabulary. To illustrate, the author provides a list of lexical items etymologically rooted in Gaelic, for example.
I also agree with the author's premise that the reading public and literary reviewers often take for granted the skill and artistry required of translators to recreate a piece of literature in a new language. She elaborates this point throughout the book with numerous anecdotes, quotes, and observations.
The book is certainly well-written and boasts an amazing vocabulary: even the most literate reader will surely be sent scurrying to the dictionary a number of times before finishing the book.
Additionally, the author includes a number of insightful quotes from writers and translators throughout history, including a quote from the translators of the King James Bible in 1611:
"Translation it is that openeth the window, to let in the light; that breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel; that putteth aside the curtain, that we may look into the most holy place; that removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water."
I also completely agree with the author's philosophy of translation. At one point, she states: "... a translator's fidelity is not to lexical pairings but to context—the implications and echoes of the first author's tone, intention, and level of discourse."
As other reviewers have noted, there is some repetition (particularly regarding the observation of how reviewers mostly ignore or discount translations) throughout the short book, perhaps owing to the book's origin as separate talks given (as explained in the author's preface).
At any rate, some good, accurate, informative bits, well written. Translators would find much of interest, but I wouldn't especially recommend this book for the general reader, however, due to its format and style.
The book consists of the following sections: An introduction "Why Translation Matters," followed by three chapters: "Authors, Translators, and Readers Today," "Translating Cervantes" (Grossman is quite well-known for her exceptional new translation of Don Quixote (~2002, I believe), and "Translating Poetry." Additional material includes a short "Personal List of Important Translations."
As others have noted, Grossman exclusively discusses literary translation, so the book may more accurately have been entitled "Why Literary Translation Matters."
I completely agree with the author's premise and believe she effectively builds her case as to the huge cultural importance of literary translation, without which, obviously we would only have access to literature originally written in languages we can personally read, which would limit most Americans' options to just English, or possibly one additional language in a few instances.
(Practically) no American living would be able to read Dante, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Ovid, Homer, Sartre, and Cervantes all in their original languages, so the cultural necessity of translation seems self-evident.
Perhaps less self-evident is the additional fact that translation has enriched our vocabulary. To illustrate, the author provides a list of lexical items etymologically rooted in Gaelic, for example.
I also agree with the author's premise that the reading public and literary reviewers often take for granted the skill and artistry required of translators to recreate a piece of literature in a new language. She elaborates this point throughout the book with numerous anecdotes, quotes, and observations.
The book is certainly well-written and boasts an amazing vocabulary: even the most literate reader will surely be sent scurrying to the dictionary a number of times before finishing the book.
Additionally, the author includes a number of insightful quotes from writers and translators throughout history, including a quote from the translators of the King James Bible in 1611:
"Translation it is that openeth the window, to let in the light; that breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel; that putteth aside the curtain, that we may look into the most holy place; that removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water."
I also completely agree with the author's philosophy of translation. At one point, she states: "... a translator's fidelity is not to lexical pairings but to context—the implications and echoes of the first author's tone, intention, and level of discourse."
As other reviewers have noted, there is some repetition (particularly regarding the observation of how reviewers mostly ignore or discount translations) throughout the short book, perhaps owing to the book's origin as separate talks given (as explained in the author's preface).
At any rate, some good, accurate, informative bits, well written. Translators would find much of interest, but I wouldn't especially recommend this book for the general reader, however, due to its format and style.
January 20, 2020
Not what I expected.
The final section of this book was valuable to me. It's not exactly an essay on why the translation of poetry is important but rather an insight into Grossman's aims and processes. It was incredibly interesting to read and answered a number of questions I've had about what translators try to do when translating poetry. (It also has me very interested in reading Grossman's translations further, since she seems to succeed at striking a balance between form and meaning, something which seems to easily go awry when poetry is translated).
However, the first parts of this book address the importance of translation only in brief, and repetitively at that; Grossman spends a greater amount of time lamenting the maltreatment of translators and the way translations are handled in reviews. She rightly does not expect all reviewers to be bilingual or to spend their time on line-by-line comparisons between the translation and the original, but then complains that reviewers do not often address whether the translation carries the same nuance, meaning, and feel of the original. While it's no surprise that she does not offer a way for monolingual reviewers to do this, I do wonder what else she expects. Her plaint that translation is the most underappreciated profession in the modern West is also sure to ire a huge number of readers (granted, she probably does not consider many of them to be within her target audience, but that's as insulting).
While she addresses the great discrepancy between the number of translated works published in the Anglosphere and the number of translated works published in other countries, she gives raw numbers only. This passes up a great opportunity to further underscore her point, or at least brings up a tangent of equal importance - the majority of translated works published elsewhere are translated from English, so the same great and important works that are not translated into English also often aren't widely translated into any other language. Surely this is at least as great a dilemma as the dearth of works published in the Anglosphere that originate from elsewhere?
Grossman's research is meticulous, which makes her handful of odd errors and incredibly huge omissions all the more mystifying. After complaining about how American works - and translations into US English - are often anglicised for publication in the UK, she then says that she has encountered no such phenomenon in the reverse direction and can only assume that it happens rarely, if ever. This is quite famously not the case. Works published in the UK (and indeed in any version of English other than American) are Americanised incredibly frequently - from mere title changes (think Sorcerer's stone) to whole paragraphs being excised out of fear of inciting the wrath of the moral minority. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere was Americanised so skillessly that "flatly" became "apartmently" in its first US pressing.
Interesting and informative reading nonetheless, but (but for the last section) not quite what I expected. If this is par for the course, I'm a bit hesitant to check out anything else in the Why X Is Important series.
The final section of this book was valuable to me. It's not exactly an essay on why the translation of poetry is important but rather an insight into Grossman's aims and processes. It was incredibly interesting to read and answered a number of questions I've had about what translators try to do when translating poetry. (It also has me very interested in reading Grossman's translations further, since she seems to succeed at striking a balance between form and meaning, something which seems to easily go awry when poetry is translated).
However, the first parts of this book address the importance of translation only in brief, and repetitively at that; Grossman spends a greater amount of time lamenting the maltreatment of translators and the way translations are handled in reviews. She rightly does not expect all reviewers to be bilingual or to spend their time on line-by-line comparisons between the translation and the original, but then complains that reviewers do not often address whether the translation carries the same nuance, meaning, and feel of the original. While it's no surprise that she does not offer a way for monolingual reviewers to do this, I do wonder what else she expects. Her plaint that translation is the most underappreciated profession in the modern West is also sure to ire a huge number of readers (granted, she probably does not consider many of them to be within her target audience, but that's as insulting).
While she addresses the great discrepancy between the number of translated works published in the Anglosphere and the number of translated works published in other countries, she gives raw numbers only. This passes up a great opportunity to further underscore her point, or at least brings up a tangent of equal importance - the majority of translated works published elsewhere are translated from English, so the same great and important works that are not translated into English also often aren't widely translated into any other language. Surely this is at least as great a dilemma as the dearth of works published in the Anglosphere that originate from elsewhere?
Grossman's research is meticulous, which makes her handful of odd errors and incredibly huge omissions all the more mystifying. After complaining about how American works - and translations into US English - are often anglicised for publication in the UK, she then says that she has encountered no such phenomenon in the reverse direction and can only assume that it happens rarely, if ever. This is quite famously not the case. Works published in the UK (and indeed in any version of English other than American) are Americanised incredibly frequently - from mere title changes (think Sorcerer's stone) to whole paragraphs being excised out of fear of inciting the wrath of the moral minority. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere was Americanised so skillessly that "flatly" became "apartmently" in its first US pressing.
Interesting and informative reading nonetheless, but (but for the last section) not quite what I expected. If this is par for the course, I'm a bit hesitant to check out anything else in the Why X Is Important series.
May 3, 2018
Ms. Grossman is a writer of integrity, intelligence, experience, and passion. Her prose is elegant and clear. She has pondered the life role of the translator and offers the reader a consistent view of the translator as a co-author with the writer of a work's original language. She sees that literature is sometimes ineffable even to the original author or poet. And because literature -- that is, a novel, a story, a poem -- is itself a translation from whatever appeared in the author's mind, the translator is similarly a creator. He/she has the obligation of bringing the work to a wider audience so that the life of the work expands and the life of the audience can be enriched -- whether the audience member is a reader or a reader/author/poet. A most excellent example of the need for and power of translation is the great influence of books like those of Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Chekhov, and many others who wrote in Russian, a language that most readers do not understand, but who receive the works because of the minds and pens and skills of translators. Another example is the long life and influence of the Faulkner works in the world of Latin American writing to the extent that Faulkner, through translation often, has influenced Marquez and other important Latin American writers who have created their own literary works.
Ms. Grossman's book is also inspirational for those of us who have tried some translating just for the pleasure of it. She describes the work and joy of transforming literature from one idiom to another.
If one were to read one chapter, I would suggest the chapter on translating Don Quixote which gives insight into Ms. Grossman's approach and love of her work. The chapter on translating Spanish poetry is somewhat less comprehensible -- because of the need to know the function of particular meters at different times in history. The comparison translations, however, are interesting in themselves.
Ms. Grossman's book is also inspirational for those of us who have tried some translating just for the pleasure of it. She describes the work and joy of transforming literature from one idiom to another.
If one were to read one chapter, I would suggest the chapter on translating Don Quixote which gives insight into Ms. Grossman's approach and love of her work. The chapter on translating Spanish poetry is somewhat less comprehensible -- because of the need to know the function of particular meters at different times in history. The comparison translations, however, are interesting in themselves.
February 6, 2018
I didn't realise, when I picked this book off the shelf at Blackwell's in Oxford (sigh, as much as I love e-books, you don't remember where you were when you bought them!), that much of it was dedicated to the translation of poetry. It isn't a field I have much experience in, though I have tried it a few times. So after I first started reading the book back in August 2017, I put it aside and didn't pick it up again until February 2018, at which point I pretty much devoured it in one sitting.
Unsurprisingly, a celebrated translator like Edith Grossman has a way with words. If you're remotely interested in the topic, I highly recommend this book. It is only 119 pages long, so it won't take long to read - and it is time well spent.
Unsurprisingly, a celebrated translator like Edith Grossman has a way with words. If you're remotely interested in the topic, I highly recommend this book. It is only 119 pages long, so it won't take long to read - and it is time well spent.
April 6, 2018
I must admit disappointment in this work. It came highly recommended by someone I have great respect for but it just didn't do it for me. If you're looking for a dazzling short work on the art of translation, I'd recommend 19 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei. The current book under review struck me as very pedestrian and restating the obvious repetitively. Apologies to my friend. In fairness, the section on her approach to poetry translation and her reasons for different choices probably went beyond my expertise. But again the single simple poem of Wang Wei's and it's various translations knocked me out.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 76 reviews