"Translation" or "updating"?

[hdw]

We tend to assume on this thread that "translation" means rendering a work of literature from one discrete language into another, e.g. from French into English; but what about doing a version of an older text into the modern form of the same language? If I do a modern English version of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales or Mirabell decides to render the Nibelungenlied into modern German, is that also a "translation", or just an "updating"?

Seamus Heaney seems to be on a bit of a translation roll at the moment, and after "translating" the Anglo-Saxon/Old English Beowulf into modern English, he has turned his attention to the 15th-century Scots poet Robert Henryson. See the excellent review of his Henryson "translations" by Colin Burrow ("Be Nice to Mice") in London Review of Books 8 October 2009.

As Scots is generally speaking about as different from Standard English as the mainland Scandinavian languages are from each other, it may make sense to speak of "translating" from one to the other. Likewise, Old English - before the transfusion of French and Latin vocabulary into English in the Middle Ages - was a very different, more Germanic language than the English of later times, so maybe a rendering of Beowulf into modern English does count as a "translation". But where's your chronological cut-off point? If you edit Shakespeare's plays and modernise his language so that modern schoolkids can understand them, have you "translated", or simply "updated"?

Harry

[Omo]

An interesting question. Earlier this year a "translation" of Grimmelshausens Simplicissimus came out. The book was first published in 1668 and is for the experienced modern German reader understandable.
Nonetheless Reinhard Kaiser wrote his version, translated from the German of the 17th century, which is already New High German. There has been a lot of incomprehension and praise in the feuilletons, but see what the translator wrote:

Warum diese M?hsal und nicht erkennende Lust?, fragte sich Reinhard Kaiser, als er sich an die ?bersetzung des Simplicissimus machte und einen ungeheuerlichen Prozess der ”Entzifferung“, die ”brutale Operation“ des ?bersetzens in Angriff nahm: nach dreihundertvierzig Jahren sind im Barock gel?ufige W?rter und Wendungen in Vergessenheit geraten oder — eine viel t?ckischere Spielart der Sprache — in ihrer Bedeutung verschoben worden (”falsche Freunde“ nennt sie der ?bersetzer). Dar?ber hinaus gibt es Stolpersteine, die das fl?ssige Lesen und Verstehen behindern, sprachliche Merkw?rdigkeiten, alte Wortformen, altert?mliche Schreibweisen, absonderliche grammatische Strukturen, fehlende — den Text gliedernde — Satzzeichen u.v.m. Grimmelshausens Roman scheint mit ”einer Patina ?berzogen, die den heutigen Leser vor eine schwierige Wahl stellt. Entweder er liest langsam, h?lt bei jedem Stutzpunkt inne und r?umt ihn mit eigenem Nachdenken aus dem Weg... Oder der Leser liest, wie er es gewohnt ist: z?gig — und merkt bald, wie er nicht mehr alles mitbekommt. ... So bietet der Simplicissimus heutigen Lesern die Chance, sich auf zweierlei Weise zu verirren — entweder im Dunst des nur halb Verstandenen oder im Schw?rmen von Einzelheiten, die der Kl?rung und Erkl?rung bed?rfen.“
Hier gilt es, den verborgenen Glanz von Grimmelshausens ”Herzensz?hmerin“ wieder zum Vorschein zu bringen: dieses Buch durch ?bersetzen zu entziffern und — hinterher — beim erneuten Lesen zu Entdeckungen zu verhelfen, mit denen der geneigte Leser beileibe nicht gerechnet hat. Der Simplicissimus ist ”keine altbackene, muffig und fast ungenie?bar gewordene Scharteke, sondern ein Roman, der mit seinem Scharfsinn, seinem Witz und seiner gedankenspielerischen Kunstfertigkeit, mit seiner Gro?artigkeit und Eindringlichkeit zu den allerbesten geh?rt, die es in unserer Literatur gibt“.

[Liam]

...before the transfusion of French and Latin vocabulary into English in the Middle Ages...

Honey, baby, sweetie, the Anglo-Saxon period is PART of the Middle Ages in Europe, directly following the fall of the Roman Empire. We medievalists usually call that era the Early Middle Ages, as opposed to the Late Middle Ages you're talking about, when the aforementioned transfusion of English and French took place.

That being said, you absolutely cannot read The Canterbury Tales in the original without proper preparation. Chaucer's vocabulary is about 55% Old French, and some of it has been long gone or (at best) altered. So I guess a translation, like Nevill Coghill's or David Wright's really IS a translation, and not a mere "update."

But then again, English is unique. Russian is a very conservative language in that regard--you can probably read The Song of Igor's Campaign without too much outside help once you master modern Russian.

Can modern-day Icelanders read the sagas in the original? Someone told me that Icelandic was also a very slow-changing language.

In the case of the Celtic branch of Indo-European, Old Irish has changed mightily (though the basic structure of the language wasn't altered), so if you're fluent in modern Irish it will be of no help (although still useful!) if you wish to read Old Irish texts in the original. The Welsh are luckier in that regard--once you learn modern Welsh, you can tackle The Mabinogion pretty much as it is, provided you have proper textual notes on the side (or at the bottom)--the way we usually consult them when we're reading our Shakespeare!

[hdw]

It's always instructive and helpful to be lectured by Yanks about European history. And I've noticed that Yanks are always pathetically grateful when we omniscient Brits put them right about their own history, such as it is. Not many people here use the words Middle Ages and medi(a)eval about the immediate aftermath of the Roman pull-out, but who knows what they say in Kansas City and Kalamazoo, where I'm sure they talk of little else.

Yes, modern Icelanders can and do read the sagas in the original Icelandic. The modern language has added a great deal of new vocabulary and the morphology has changed to some extent, but back in the 60s my Old Norse teacher Hermann P?lsson - who was a leading scholar and translator of the sagas and skaldic poetry - told us in the first meeting of our class at Edinburgh University that he felt self-conscious reading the sagas aloud in what he imagined to be the classical pronunciation, because it was his native, living language, so he proposed to read them aloud to us in his normal modern Icelandic pronunciation. So I learned my Old Norse in the accents of modern Reykjavik.

I know a little bit of Scottish Gaelic, and for a while I went to an evening class in Irish Gaelic, so I can testify to the differences between the two forms. But a professor of (Scottish) Gaelic once told me that, without a known provenance for a Gaelic poem, until about the eighteenth century it was impossible to tell if it had been written in Ireland or Scotland, so conservative were the Scottish bards in their literary language.

It's an interesting fact, well, to me at any rate, that the earliest surviving fragment of poetry in any form of the Welsh language - the Gododdin - was written in what is now Scotland, probably in or near Edinburgh. The Lothians area is full of Welsh (Brythonic) place-names, and the hill called Traprain Law to the east of Edinburgh was a tribal capital of the Votadini, to give their Latin name to the cast of the Gododdin.

Harry

[Liam]

It's always instructive and helpful to be lectured by Yanks about European history. And I've noticed that Yanks are always pathetically grateful when we omniscient Brits put them right about their own history, such as it is. Not many people here use the words Middle Ages and medi(a)eval about the immediate aftermath of the Roman pull-out, but who knows what they say in Kansas City and Kalamazoo, where I'm sure they talk of little else.

Yeah, you're right, not many people at all, except perhaps all the major historians and literary experts, but what do they know. If you've little or no time to consult a proper historical source, here's a little snippet from the truly omniscient Wikipedia:

The Middle Ages of European history (adjective form medieval or medi?val) was a period in history which lasted for roughly a millennium, commonly dated from the fall of the Western Roman Empire in the 5th century to the beginning of the Early Modern Period in the 16th century, marked by the division of Western Christianity in the Reformation, the rise of humanism in the Italian Renaissance, and the beginnings of European overseas expansion. There is some variation in the dating of the edges of these periods which is due mainly to differences in specialization and focus of individual scholars.

The Middle Ages form the middle period in a traditional schematic division of European history into three "ages": the classical civilization of Antiquity, the Middle Ages, and the modern period. The idea of such a periodization is attributed to Flavio Biondo, an Italian Renaissance humanist historian but commonly seen periodization ranges span the years ca. 400?476 AD (the sackings of Rome by the Visigoths to the deposing of Romulus Augustus)[1] to ca. 1453?1517 (the Fall of Constantinople to the Protestant Reformation begun with Martin Luther's Ninety-Five Theses).

I know a little bit of Scottish Gaelic, and for a while I went to an evening class in Irish Gaelic, so I can testify to the differences between the two forms. But a professor of (Scottish) Gaelic once told me that, without a known provenance for a Gaelic poem, until about the eighteenth century it was impossible to tell if it had been written in Ireland or Scotland, so conservative were the Scottish bards in their literary language.

Well, yes; also, Scottish was not a really a separate language from Irish Gaelic up until the late 17th century. You could probably travel from one territory to another and still understand the spoken language and BE UNDERSTOOD, as well. The regional differences in the two forms, as it were, were deepened as a result of the crumbling of a thousand-year-old Gaelic order in Ireland, and from then on the divergence between the two languages became irreversible.

It's an interesting fact, well, to me at any rate, that the earliest surviving fragment of poetry in any form of the Welsh language - the Gododdin - was written in what is now Scotland, probably in or near Edinburgh. The Lothians area is full of Welsh (Brythonic) place-names, and the hill called Traprain Law to the east of Edinburgh was a tribal capital of the Votadini, to give their Latin name to the cast of the Gododdin.

Yes, but The Mabinogion came much later, of course, than the Gododdin poem, which I own both in the original and in several translations. Interestingly, those were what we would call "Pictish" territories around that time, but no one can testify if Pictish was a British or (what's more) an Indo-European language at all! What little evidence we possess seems to point both ways. Fascinating, what else can I say...


Harry, if you need a good reference to early European history, be sure to check out Early Medieval Europe: 300-1000 by Roger Collins, as well as The Early Middle Ages: Europe 400-1000 by Rosamond McKitterick (British scholars both). I don't know who's been teaching you history, but this difference in dating between European and American historical disciplines is something you've pulled out of your ass, .

[beelzebubbles]

This should be good. *awaits return volley with baited breath*

[Mirabell]

*starts clapping rhythmically in expectation of a brawl cuz there's nothing like two men having at each other eh?*

[beelzebubbles]

I thought it was a tennis match and I am curious to find out if Europeans do call the Middle Ages or Medieval Period something different.

[Mirabell]

I don't care about tennis. I want 'em to wrestle.

[beelzebubbles]

Okay, I'll bring the oil.

[Mirabell]

Okay, I'll bring the oil.

THAT's what I'm talking about.

[Liam]

This should be good. *awaits return volley with baited breath*

What are you girlie, a referee???

*starts clapping rhythmically in expectation of a brawl cuz there's nothing like two men having at each other eh?*

I don't know; maybe if they're both Bel-Ami models... LOL. (M, I hope you get the reference).

I don't care about tennis. I want 'em to wrestle.

Liam is actually quite good at tennis. Other than swimming, it is the only sport he "occasionally" plays.

Okay, I'll bring the oil.

You and your perverted ways!!!

THAT's what I'm talking about.

I'm not exactly sure if that IS what you're talking about, M. If it were up to you, Janet would be bringing not oil, NO, but a bottle of strawberry-flavored J.O. lubricant.

I thought it was a tennis match and I am curious to find out if Europeans do call the Middle Ages or Medieval Period something different.

No they don't! I stand by what I originally said: Harry's been pulling the wrong info out of his ass and feeding it to the gullible. Listen to the, ahem, expert, will you???





Cheers (you guys make me laugh, I love you),
~ L.

[Mirabell]

I'm not exactly sure if that IS what you're talking about, M. If it were up to you, Janet would be bringing not oil, NO, but a bottle of strawberry-flavored J.O. lubricant.
.

I'm found out!

[beelzebubbles]

What are you girlie, a referee???

I'm a moderator and don't you forget it. *flashes tin star, intake of breath from the crowd*

I don't know; maybe if they're both Bel-Ami models... LOL. (M, I hope you get the reference).

This is a respectable literature forum so it better be a reference to the Maupassant novel.

Goodnight gents. *gallops off into the sunset on her white charger*

[hdw]

This should be good. *awaits return volley with baited breath*

I think you mean "bated breath". Sorry, I'm a pedant.

Harry

[hdw]

I don't care about tennis. I want 'em to wrestle.

Like Alan Bates and Oliver Reed in "Women in Love"? (should've been called "Men in Love"). Which of us would be which?

Harry

[Eric]

Honies, babies, girlies, let's get back to the kernel of the matter. If you want a silly thread, start one yourself, like I do.

Despite all the punnery-flummery, bummery-comery displayed here, Harry's original question is important.

For me, you are translating, even if it is from a dialect or an older version of the same language. As simple as that. An arbitrary line seems to run between Chaucer (often translated) and Shakespeare (sometimes paraphrased). The Nibelungenlied has been available in parallel text for decades. Because when you are far enough away from both the vocabulary and the historical connotations, you can't read a book without masses of notes. A translation is one way of reducing the number of these.

I can't stand the work, but it would be interesting to see "Trainspotting", by the Welsh Scotsman, translated into standard English. This action would soon reveal the paucity of thought and vocabulary that Welsh generates, giving Scottish literature the reputation of having only been written by vocabularily impaired alcoholics. Curiously, a section of "Trainspotting" was translated into Joual, a French-Canadian Montreal (mont-r?al rather than montry-all) patois, swearwords and all. See:

Introduction - LiteraryTranslation.com

[hdw]

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Interestingly, those were what we would call "Pictish" territories around that time, but no one can testify if Pictish was a British or (what's more) an Indo-European language at all! What little evidence we possess seems to point both ways. Fascinating, what else can I say...
~ L.

Re Picts, you're talking to one. Not in the elective sense, where you can buy an oval sticker saying PICT (or SCOT) and stick it on the back of your car as some kind of statement (people actually do that here), but in the sense of having one's cheek swab tested in a genetic testing laboratory.

Lots of amateur genealogists who have exhausted the possibilities of 'paper-trail' family-history research have moved into the genetic genealogy field, which is developing by leaps and bounds, and it's now possible to have your ethnicity pinned down in exhaustive detail. The "Celtic" strain in British Y DNA [what men inherit from their father's father's father's father (etc.)] used to be called in the technical jargon R1b, but this has now been broken down into lots of sub-groups as more and more men have tested, and the group I belong to is now known as R1b1b2a1b5*. The asterisk means that even this sub-sub-group is now regarded as a fairly large catch-all which itself can be further subdivided.

This particular sub-group, to which about 15% of Scottish males belong, is also known for short as Scots Modal R-L21* - and Dr. Jim Wilson of Edinburgh University calls it "the genetic signature of the Picts". He got into genetic genealogy via his day job in medical genetics, and he found that this distinct Y DNA "haplotype" was commonest in the Scottish areas of Grampian, Tayside and Fife - historic "Pictavia" or Caledonia - and was less common elsewhere in Scotland and unknown in England.

As I was brought up in Fife in the village where my father's family seem to have lived for ever, to judge from my genealogical research, this is not too surprising. Fife was a separate Pictish kingdom, and is still referred to jocularly (and as a marketing gimmick by the tourist board) as "the Kingdom of Fife". There are Pictish standing stones all over the place, including one in a field a few hundred yards from our old family home. There are 4 farms in the vicinity called East Pitcorthie, West Pitcorthie, Easter Pitcorthie and Wester Pitcorthie. Pitcorthie means 'the place of the standing stone'.

Unfortunately, I don't have any racial memory of the Pictish language, and the symbolism of the carving on the standing stones is as much a mystery to me as to everyone else. The geneticist Stephen Oppenheimer was hyping his book "The Origins of the British" at the Edinburgh International Book Festival a couple of years ago and I could hardly wait for the microphone to go round to take a swing at him over his assertion that the Picts came from the Middle East and their language was proto-Semitic. Disappointingly, he literally went on the back foot (reeled backwards, in fact) and gabbled that it wasn't his theory, he was just quoting some nutty German.

The current theory propagated by Wilson and his colleagues is that the Picts were descendants of the hunter-gatherers who settled Scotland at the end of the last Ice Age, some 12,000 years ago. So we are as indigenous as it gets. These people saw out the Ice Age in nice cosy "refugia" in Iberia - basically southern France and northern Spain - which is presumably why this formerly red-haired and freckled east-coast Scot turns out to have close genetic matches on the public genetic databases with French-Canadians, Argentinians, Chileans, Puerto Ricans [I've corresponded with three of my Puerto Rican genetic 'cousins' who all trace their ancestry back to Asturias in northern Spain].

Sorry about the lengthy lecture, but it's a fascinating subject.

Harry (Enrique).

[Eric]

What is actually known about the Pictish language? Judging by the Wikipedia, remarkably little:

Pictish language - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

I always feel it is important to distinguish between racial origins, cultural origins, and language ones. Sometimes the three seem to overlap perfectly, sometimes people take over other people's languages and cultures. The Romans, evidently, weren't much interested in racial differences, as long as you conformed to the Roman way of life. It was also like that in the Soviet Union.

One instance of this miscegenation is surely the Normans (i.e. Northmen) who appear, according to some, to have been some kind of Scandinavians or Vikings, but ended up being assimilated and speaking French.

And all those Irish slaves that were assimilated into the Icelandic gene pool will have gradually dropped their Celtic language and ended up speaking a Germanic-Scandinavian one and writing sagas. You can still see quite distinctly the oval faces and, by contrast, the curly-haired more "Irish" faces of different Icelanders. But racial origins surely make no difference in modern Iceland.

Quite a few of the largely Scandinavian or German Finland-Swedes ended up, over the past several decades, speaking Finno-Ugrian language Finnish as their mother-tongue. If you look at a roomful of Finnish-speaking Finns, you can clearly see from hair colour and thickness, eye-flaps, and other racial characteristics that those speaking Finnish now are an amalgam of various races that have assimilated. Sometimes, the characteristics run down the middle of families. I knew a Swedish-speaking family in Ostrobothnia, Finland, where one brother and sister had the eye-flaps (i.e. similar to Asian eyes) while one brother didn't. It was no big deal, just a family fact of life, told to me by the younger brother.

There are lots of other examples.

[hdw]

What is actually known about the Pictish language? Judging by the Wikipedia, remarkably little:

Pictish language - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The problem is that, although they were clearly a powerful people able to put an army in the field and even launch naval expeditions, they didn't have a literary culture, and seem to have put all their artistic endeavour into the carved stones they erected, rather than writing and illuminating manuscripts, even after they were converted to Christianity.

Harry