How do You Say... Translation?

All European languages...

Three percent of all books published in the United States are translated. Three! That means ninety-seven percent of books published in the United States were written in English originally. By the way, we're talking about all books here. If we just take literature, that number is closer to 0.7%. And, in spite of globalization, bilingualism and the spread of the English language, that still means that there's a whole world (almost literally) of words out there that no one in the United States is hearing.


Why? Ah, that's an interesting question.


There's good old American exceptionalism. For those of us cloistered in academia, American exceptionalism has become a tired excuse for everything. But we have to remember that the vast majority of people aren't cloistered in academia and, quite possibly, think, "Why do we need them foreign books? We've got plenty of good writers here in the US of A!" Or, if they're not quite so blatant about it, they seek comfort in the familiar. They can't relate as well to characters who don't look, sound or think like them.


Then there's globalization, vestiges of colonialism, that three percent and a vicious cycle borne of all three. Take me, for example. I spent the first fourteen years of my life in Chennai, India, and I speak English better than I do Tamil. I can read and write Tamil, meaning that I can decipher and write characters, but I have very little grasp on grammar and sentence construction and a very small vocabulary (it doesn't help that there's a maddeningly wide gap between spoken and written Tamil). I learned Hindi in school, but I'm terrible at speaking it because, again, I have very little grasp of the grammar. And all this happened because I went to a school where I was taught in English, because I have educated parents who studied in convent schools where the language of instruction was also English and because English is the language that is necessary to get ahead in business and careers. But, even if I had been really fluent in Hindi, Tamil or both, I'd never have dreamt of writing in either. Because I'd have had dreams (as a lot of writers do) of landing a big book contract and I knew that wouldn't happen if my book couldn't be circulated around the world, to those English-speaking countries where people have the time to read. The more writers write in English, the less perceived need there is to translate (because see! We have diversity! We have this writer from another country, whose view is different because they're from another country). And, the more writers who get contracts writing in English, the more other aspiring writers see that as the way to a career.


And then there's the fact that translation is pretty damn difficult to do. First, you have to be really familiar with another language, to the point where you can understand idioms, puns, colloquialisms. This, by the way, has led to some wonderfully interesting collaborations and processes. Christina MacSweeney, who translates Valeria Luiselli's work (nonfiction and fiction) from Spanish to English, collaborates with Luiselli, who is bilingual. MacSweeney translates, Luiselli edits the translations and sometimes, they rinse and repeat. Hilary Kaplan, who recently translated Angélica Freitas' book of poetry from Portuguese to English, wrote seven different translations of a single poem before deciding on one with an editor. Then you actually have to find a work to translate (not the easiest thing to do without time to keep up with international literature). Then you have to have the time, energy and resources to work on a translation for an extended period of time. Then (or, often, concurrently) you have to find a market for it, which often involves selling people on the idea that a piece of literature isn't inherently frightening or off-putting because it comes from a different context and country.


There is the argument, of course, that translation is, in some way, contributing to the problem–the belief that writers can only become popular if they're published in English. Why promote translation without promoting language study, so that more people can enjoy a writer's work in the original? I struggle with this dilemma. But, since even less people are willing to learn a new language to enjoy literature, than to buy a translated book, I'll take the lesser of the two evils for now.


I'll say that it's just as important to support translators as it is to support writers (and, of course, by supporting translators, you're supporting even more writers). If you've ever read the Bible, you've read a translated book (though you were probably reading a translation of a translation). So it isn't that hard. Find a bookstore, pick up a volume of your preferred genre in translation, and have at it. Or, you could just go here or here to find literature that was originally in Uyghur, Lithuanian, Medieval High German and everything in between.

Read more of Rukmini's work on Floodmark.