a culture of language and thought

Ever since my translation of The Book of Destiny came out, many of my Spanish-speaking friends and colleagues have been asking where they can buy the original Spanish. I’m sorry to say that there is no published Spanish of the translated English.

The author, Carlos Barrios, published a book in Guatemala in 2004, titled Ch’umilal Wuj: El libro del destino (Google books has a few pages as a teaser). Many of the chapters in the English are based on this original, but none are exactly the same. Instead, Carlos updated and rewrote much of the book based on the changing times and targeted at a different audience. Whereas the original was written in part to inspire Guatemalan Mayans to learn more about and regain pride in their past and future, the translation was for a North American audience to understand what the Mayans have contributed to the world and what they hope to contribute now.

You might think this is quite unusual for a translation project. I certainly thought that before I got involved in the industry, but the most unusual things can happen! One book I translated by Edmundo Paz Soldán, Turing’s Delirium, changed substantially from the award-winning Spanish version to the English, based on suggestions from the editor: a chapter was added, one character’s motivations completely changed, aspects of another character’s personality were deleted. This seemed like sacrilege to me at first, but since the author was alright with the modifications, I came to accept them, too. It’s funny; I often feel more vested in a work than perhaps I should.

And then there was The Book of Destiny, which I translated from a manuscript, referring to the published Spanish book, based on e-mailed questions and answers with the author, using certain passages from one particular version of the Popol Vuh (by Augustín Estrada Monroy), and receiving miscellaneous pages and chapters that Carlos added while I was translating.

You just never know with a literary translation – you have to be ready for anything. It’s part of what I love about the work: there’s always a challenge.

If you’ve had an interesting or unusual literary translation experience, either from the writing or reading perspective, do share!

I had an interesting conversation last night with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. Phil asked what I was up to in terms of work, and I told him I have a deadline looming… A book translation I’ve been working on for about four months now is due toward the end of September, so crunch time is here.  He asked whether I would make my deadline. What a question! Of course I’ll make my deadline! Even if I have to go to the doctor to ask for stronger anti-inflammatories to dull the pain of my RSI in order to work the long, long hours that haven’t been possible of late, I will make my deadline. I don’t think I’ve ever missed one. In fact, whenever possible, I much prefer to beat my deadline and deliver translations hours or even days earlier than they’re due. It’s something I pride myself on.

Phil then asked whether this was particular to me or to my profession, and I was unsure of the answer. It is definitely a personal trait, but what do other translators think about deadlines? The very few times I have subcontracted any work out (with the express permission of the client!), those translators took every last second of the time I gave them. There’s certainly nothing wrong with that, because they didn’t miss the deadline, but if it had been delivered earlier, thus giving me more time to revise and compile, I would have been much happier. It’s why I deliver as early as I possibly can, while never compromising on the quality of the work: it’s good customer service, and that’s the business we’re in.

Tell me about your thoughts on deadlines, your successes and horror stories. In the meantime, I’ll get back to work on the novel translation so as to deliver on time (or early!) and not make a liar out of myself.

Wendy Nind, Sacha Thoman & Juan Miranda! I’ll be in touch with each of you by e-mail to find out where to send your copy of The Book of Destiny. Thank you so much to everyone who posted… I was thrilled to hear from you all!

So far there have been no official reviews of the book in newspapers or magazines, but I’m happy to see it being displayed under “Hot Topics” in Chapters stores around the country. Oh, and the radio program “Tapestry” on CBC has requested a copy to see if it might fit their program. Wouldn’t that be great?! If you see any press online or in print – anywhere – write a comment here to let us all know.

In the meantime, if you have a chance to read the book and want to discuss any of the topics, I’d love to hear from you. Post a comment or drop me an e-mail.

**Post a comment here (click on the “with X comments” link right under the title “Responsibility”) by July 27, 2009, and you will be entered to win one of three copies of The Book of Destiny: Unlocking the Secrets of the Ancient Mayans and the Prophecy of 2012. Be sure to include your e-mail address so I can contact you if you’re chosen using the Random Integer Generator.**

The very act of translation implies a great deal of responsibility. First and foremost, you have a duty to what the author is expressing: beginning with the message itself and ending with form (vocabulary and style). You also need to be true to the language you’re writing in: follow its grammar rules, accepted style, and word usage. You have a duty to yourself: to trust the countless choices you make at each step along the way, to know why you made them, and to be able to back them up. Finally, but no less importantly, you have a duty to your reader: to make sure they understand the author’s words as you understood them, to feel, experience, or learn whatever he or she intended. It’s an enormous task and one I take extremely seriously.

Now compound all of that by the fact that it is a book written by a Mayan shaman who has been asked and authorized by the Mayan Council of Elders to dispel inaccuracies about their existence, history, and culture; to set the record straight on the prophecy regarding December 21, 2012, which has been distorted nearly beyond recognition; to reveal prophecies and philosophies and ancient calendars never before seen outside of the tradition; to share the book on which their society has been based for thousands of years, in which “not a single word is ever added … or removed.” Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?!

The pressure I thus felt translating The Book of Destiny: Unlocking the Secrets of the Ancient Mayans and the Prophecy of 2012 was enormous, and certainly wasn’t helped by the extremely tight deadline set by the publisher. Thankfully, the author, Carlos Barrios, agreed to work with me and we were in constant contact throughout the translation process… although nothing about that was easy either! As a shaman, Carlos is often in the highlands of Guatemala, without access to a phone or the Internet. Questions were therefore copied to his daughter, Denise. She answered when she was able to, but more often than not we would have to wait to consult with Carlos whenever he became available. In the meantime, I would push on, leaving great swaths of text highlighted in yellow (”waiting for an answer”) or green (”must ask”).

The more I read and the more my understanding grew, the more anxious I became. I felt – and feel – that the messages in this book are of the utmost importance to humanity. I agree with Carlos and the elders: we have lost touch with the Natural Order and we have wrongly appointed ourselves masters of the earth, using it thoughtlessly to satiate our excessive wants and desires, destroying its beauty and worth.

There is, as Carlos points out, a fair chance that people will scoff at what he has to say because of a lack of empirical evidence. I admit I felt this responsibility acutely as well, wishing there were only some way to add more facts or irrefutable proof so that Western minds would find his revelations more palatable. But, alas, a translator can only go so far.

Now that the book is out in the world, I can only hope I accomplished my mission by being faithful to the text and to the craft of translation. My last responsibility is to encourage you to read what Carlos and the Elders have to say, to discuss the topics he raises, and to take action in your own life in the hopes of contributing to this heightened level of consciousness awaiting us in the Fifth Sun. I certainly will be.

As you might have noticed, my website has undergone some very slight changes… Or perhaps I should really call them updates. Because of my RSI (Repetitive Strain Injury), I had let things slide. A book I translated came out last fall (Everything Under the Sky), but I never managed to send out an announcement, update my site, or otherwise promote it. I hadn’t blogged for months. And although I get great comments about my site from those who visit, it is getting a little long in the tooth and I wanted to freshen it up.

I thus started to plan my new website look and content. It’s incredible how long this takes, how much work it is, and, frankly, I found that I can’t do it all on my own. I’m pretty tech savvy but when it comes to some things, I know I need help. Thankfully, I can rely on my partner, Jon, a true tecchie, to lend a hand. So… keep checking back as one day in the near future you’ll log on and be amazed at we’ve done.

In order to see what innovations were out there, I started to search other translator and writer’s sites and blogs. I wandered down a path that led from one to another, to another, reading, enjoying the content, getting tons of ideas, and then became so overwhelmed with all there was to do that I decided to procrastinate a little by writing this post.

Here are three of my favorites; I hope you’ll enjoy them, too:

Madam Mayo – A blog by C.M. Mayo, a writer and translator, that features her work and guest blogs

The Urban Muse – A blog by Susan Johnston, a freelance writer, with incredible blogging tips

Thoughts on Translation – A blog by Corinne McKay, a translator, offering great advice regarding the industry

It used to be I would have to get up in the morning and immediately sit down at my desk to begin work. If I went out or did anything else first, it was as if the whole day would slip away on me and literally nothing would get accomplished. This may have something to do with my upbringing… My dad, a five o’clock riser, always said there was no point starting anything after noon as the day was half over.

Much of the freedom I enjoyed working for myself was therefore negated. Sure, I could work for several hours then meet a friend for lunch, say, but that still meant the rest of my work day was effectively worthless. I would do a little of this or that, but feel essentially ineffectual.

Similarly, if I was working on a literary translation, I would have to dedicate the entire day to it. It required such focus and concentration, “getting into it,” that I never wanted to sully my thoughts by working on anything else.

Then I got RSI and was forced to change my entire method and approach to work. Gone were the days of sitting down at the computer in the morning and not getting up from it until evening. After over a year, I’m still not at full capacity, and even if I was I will never again work that way. Frequent breaks are the only way the tendons in my arms and hands will heal, and later prevent re-injury. I have had to learn to take it easy in the morning if they are swollen, perhaps not sitting down at the computer to get deep into work until midmorning. I often start my day with Tai Chi as I know I will come home with pain-free arms and an abundance of energy that will allow me to be productive for the rest of the day.

When I do start translating, I know that to accomplish all I need to, I will have to switch from trademarks, to the novel, to updating my website, on to something else or perhaps back to the beginning again (all interrupted by computer breaks: trips to the living room to listen to the news, out on the balcony to water the plants or catch a moment of sun, a snack and a stretch). I’ve discovered that my brain isn’t nearly as rigid, as unable to change modes, as I thought it was. Allowing myself this flexible schedule means I can take advantage of the freedom this career affords me, and I’m immensely appreciative.

Plus, it’s encouraging to know that an old dog *can* learn new tricks.

It was April 1 of last year, about eleven o’clock at night, when I sat back down at my desk after dinner and a show with my partner Jon to make a few notes about things I needed to do the following day. Ping! As I picked up a pen, something in the middle finger on my right hand snapped, like a frayed elastic band, and I uttered “Ouch!” I jotted down my list, the knuckle on that finger smarting, and headed off to bed.

The next morning I woke up with it swollen to three times its size, unable to move let alone bend it, and in a considerable amount of pain. I headed to a walk-in clinic, had X-rays taken, and was told to simply rest it and come back in a week if it wasn’t any better. With a mere four weeks left to go on an incredibly difficult, rush translation of a book of non-fiction, I panicked and forged ahead, working through the pain.

That was the start to what has now been a thirteen month journey into learning about, understanding, and dealing with Repetitive Strain Injury. Not fun, to say the least. I finally feel like I am on the mend after cutting back on work last fall, taking November and December off entirely, and only slowly ramping up since January.

The start of the calendar year came and went, and still in agony nearly every single day, I spent only the absolute minimum of time on the computer. My usual new year tasks – such as updating my website, searching out prospective new clients, planning my business strategy for the coming year – simply never happened.

But given the economic downturn, which has affected my business more than I thought (or perhaps hoped) it would, I have the time and I am starting to have the energy to undertake some of these vital tasks. May has thus becoming the start of my “new year”.

I’m too afraid that RSI is only taking a brief reprieve to make any promises about updating this blog, but if you’ve signed up for the RSS feed and have been surprised to hear from me again, post a comment to let me know you’re out there. That will certainly encourage me to write as often as I’m able.

Hope to hear from you!

When I’m in the middle of translating a book, every cell of my brain is completely consumed by it. It’s hard for me to focus on anything else because I’m so immersed in the story, the characters, the words, the feeling… I choose each word with incredible care and approach each translation problem with pages of notes, setting out my options, keeping track of the research I’ve done, weighing out the respective benefits of each possible choice that could be made, and eventually my reason for deciding to translate something in a particular way.

When I’m finished the entire translation, it usually takes days or weeks to really get my head back into other things. Slowly, all of the words and ideas from the book settle into a deeper layer in my brain. I feel as if they’ll always be there, though, not far away, ready to pull out whenever I need them. I’m finding that’s not the case, though…

My translation Turing’s Delirium, by Edmundo Paz Soldán, came out in 2006. Like most books I’ve translated, once the initial excitement of having the physical book in my hands had worn off, I set it proudly on the bookshelf in my living room and eventually turned to other projects. I never pick up the books I’ve translated – the desire to change just this little word here or that little phrase there is too much. There’s always something I think I could improve but once a book is in print, that’s no longer an option. I therefore find it best just to leave the book be and satisfy myself with gazing proudly at the spine, knowing I brought it to life in another language.

This year, however, Professor Paulo Horta at Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, Canada, has asked me to dredge up some of my memories about this particular translation and the translation process. He’s teaching a course on world literature and using Turing’s Delirium as one of the books. His students have now read it and passed on questions to both the author, Edmundo, and I. I’m thrilled to be included in this. Paulo is really making a point of examining the book “in translation” and he’s acknowledging my contribution by involving me in the discussion.

In this particular case, the book is very different in Spanish and in English: chapters were added, character motivations changed, aspects of characters modified. I was resistant to the changes at first but because Edmundo was fine with them, I slowly grew to accept the majority of them as well. (There are still a few I regret, though!)

In any event, Paulo’s students have asked some insightful questions and I would like to give equally insightful answers, but I’m finding that what I did or why I did what I did in the translation isn’t so easily accessible in what is evidently a much deeper layer in my brain than I’d thought. It seems the book I just finished in December is sitting on top of those memories, much more fresh in my mind. And the book I started working on a week ago is already taking up the majority of my thought and processing power.

Uh oh. I’d better go look for my notebook for Turing’s Delirium; looks like I’m going to need it…

I’ve been thinking about the concept of balance for quite a while now – and I do mean “concept” because it’s something I understand but is still somewhat ethereal, something I’ve never quite mastered. When I look back on my working life I’ve always juggled several things at once. The reasons for doing this have usually been different; I’m either working hard to save up for something (usually travel), or am forced to do so just to make ends meet, or because it’s simply the nature of the sort of work I do.

When I was younger, I worked at a law firm and also taught English, literacy and/or Spanish classes at the same time. At one point I even worked in a pet supply store on the weekends too! In Peru I owned a restaurant for a while, where I did the shopping at the market each day, cleaned the restaurant and bathroom, helped with food preparation, waited tables, and kept the books. I also taught at an English language academy, gave private classes, and did as many translations as came my way. A few years later, I owned a bar/café while working as a full-time, in-house translator, and took translations on the side. (Here again, owning that business meant taking part in every aspect of it: creating the atmosphere, buying supplies, doing the banking, bartending, serving customers until the wee hours of the morning, etc. etc., along with my business partner Lynda, a fellow Canadian and friend).

Last year, I had all the duties of running my own freelance business plus the actual work that I do in that business! Because the nature of freelance work is often feast or famine, when there’s a feast you simply dig in and take everything you’re offered, storing up for those times when famine arrives. I also have a hard time saying “no” to my favorite clients. They’re favorites for a reason: I  like the work I’m given, we’ve developed a good relationship, their deadlines are reasonable, pay is decent, and there’s a sense of reciprocal loyalty.

As well, part of being a successful freelancer is not to put all your eggs in one basket: you need to have as many clients as you can reasonably handle so that if one should take their business away for any reason, you won’t be left in the lurch.

Juggling all of this, however, can mean that you’re working seven days a week and up to sixteen hours a day. I love my work and identify with what I do, but it’s no way to LIVE for a prolonged period of time. Friendships and outside activities start to fall away and then when the famine, or even just a lean diet, comes along, I’m left floundering. I don’t know what to do without my work. For the moment I’m trying to enjoy my reduced calorie intake and keep in mind how good it feels not to be overwhelmed by the pressures of multiple deadlines, the stress of knowing I need to do my absolute best on each one to keep my clients happy and my pride in what I do. When the eventual glut begins, I’m going to need to take a breath, remember the concept of balance and find a way to pick and choose.

It’s January, so everyone’s talking about resolutions. My partner, Jon, and a group he belongs to chose to call them intentions and I kind of prefer this… Resolutions sound so, well, resolute and that approach doesn’t always work for me. When I inevitably fail to stick with one or more of the many “resolutions” I set for myself, I only feel bad and tend to wonder why I should bother trying to stick with the rest! So “intentions” it is…

Now that I’ve dissected the semantics of it, I suppose you’d like to hear some of my intentions. Well, that’s another thing I dislike… Once you speak them out loud to the world, you’re committed to following through. I’ve committed to writing this blog out loud on more than one occasion, and look what happened there! Six months went by without a single post. So rather than jinx my intentions, just stay tuned and I hope you’ll be pleased to see regular posts.

This year has started out with a much-deserved and appreciated reprieve from being overloaded with work. I’ve thus taken the time to update my site a little and write this post. On the top of the lefthand sidebar you’ll see a place where you can click to receive an RSS feed of this blog. That way, rather than having to check in every once in a while, you’ll be notified whenever a new post or comment is posted (two separate RSS, you can choose). I hope you’ll sign up!