Coloring within the Lines

    In “Jumping into the Pond,” Juliet Winters Carpenter makes a point that really stayed with me: changing the order of the images in a poem can make it feel like a completely different poem. I felt this myself when translating Bashō. The order determines what readers picture first, how they connect one image to another, and even what kind of little story unfolds in their minds. Moving just one phrase can change the whole experience.
    But keeping the original order can also sound awkward in English, or draw attention to something that does not seem to be the focus of the original. I found myself going back and forth between these possibilities. Do I keep the sequence of images, or rearrange them so that the emphasis feels right? It is difficult because the order itself is already part of the meaning.
    Another thing that surprised me was Carpenter’s discussion of dialogue. I had not really thought about how difficult it is to translate the way people talk. In The Hunter, she had to create distinct voices for characters of different ages, personalities, and backgrounds, from police officers to family members and a beauty shop owner. Each person had to sound like themselves.
    This makes so much sense once I think about it. A character’s personality comes through in small details: how they end a sentence, hesitate, argue, or address someone else. Those details do not always have direct equivalents in another language. The translator has to find ways for that personality to come through in English. This is where Carpenter’s coloring-book metaphor feels especially fitting to me. You have to give these characters their colors again, using the materials available in another language.
    Carpenter’s interview with Professor Elliott also introduced me to the possibility of working closely with the author. For her translation of Minae Mizumura’s A True Novel, Mizumura, who knows English very well but writes in Japanese, offered extensive input. Their process sounds both exhausting and exciting. They worked separately and exchanged emails, then met for long stretches to go through the translation together. Sometimes they worked eight-hour days for a week or two, eventually developing a rhythm of alternating between working alone and working together. Carpenter describes how close they became through this experience.
    I find this kind of collaboration fascinating because it almost feels like another stage of writing the novel. The author gets to revisit her own work through a different language, while the translator can ask questions and discuss choices directly with her. The additions and revisions they make together become part of what shapes the translated book.
    At the same time, I wonder what happens when they disagree. What if the author wants to add something that the translator does not think works? Having the author there might make certain decisions easier, but would it also make the translator feel less free to follow her own judgment? I would love to know more about those moments. How they negotiate their different instincts, and how they decide when the English version finally feels right to both of them.

        Kerry