1.- What are the creative requirements of literary translation?
In a sense, a literary translator—and this is not an original thought, it’s been said before—performs (at least) three distinct yet almost simultaneous creative functions: creative reader, creative critic, and creative writer.
I think that, first and foremost, a literary translator has to be an incisive and creative reader: to dive below the surface of a text, to apprehend its devices, to decode its structures, to recognize subtle shifts in tone and register, to hone in on the underlying patterns and formal idiosyncrasies that make its style come alive. Like a critic, a translator has to develop a coherent interpretation of these things, but unlike a critic, a translator does so not to laud or poke holes, but to apply what is gleaned from that experience of a deep, critical, and creative reading to, as best as possible, recreate that experience using the unique tools of his or her target language. To that end, the translator is constrained by his or her personal lexicon and idiolect as well as his or her skills as a creative writer. In that sense, the translator becomes a kind of secondary author, a subjectivity through which the original work is filtered and recreated.
2.- Is it necessary for a literary translator to also be a writer?
I see literary translation as a mode of creative writing. So, in that sense, a literary translator is a de facto writer. But to the extent that “writer” means published author—though some translators are, of course, also authors of original writing—then I do not think it is necessary for a translator to be a writer.
3.- Is there fair recognition of literary translators?
That is a tricky question. In general, on a broad cultural level, I would say no. Awareness of literary translation as a profession and an art is very limited. There are no fixed industry standards for compensation, which allows publishers—some publishers, not all—to exploit translators and drive down the rates they are able to charge. Beyond having little bargaining power when it comes to charging a fair/livable rate, translators have to struggle for things as basic as keeping the copyright for their work in their name, and the nominal recognition of having their name on the book’s cover or, even, on the copyright page. Now, there are some translators who—through some combination of luck, skill, and reputation—are able to turn their name into a sort of brand, and thus command higher rates and recognition. But, I think, for the vast majority of literary translators, it’s not possible to make a living simply translating, and it remains a side hustle and labor of love. And yet, there are a handful of—mostly small, independent—publishers who not only try to treat translators fairly but actively advocate on their behalf. And there are cultural institutions like PEN and The National Endowment For the Arts that financially and rhetorically promote the work of translators. Beyond that, there are a variety of awards—the Man Booker International, the Best Translated Book Award, the (re)emergent National Book Award in Translation, etcetera—that place the translator on equal footing with the author in terms of recognition and prize money. So, when it comes down to it, I think there are competing forces at work: on the one hand, there is a growing cultural interest in and appreciation of translation as an art form; on the other, there are the entrenched tendencies of free-market capitalism. Where that leaves us, it’s hard to say, but here’s hoping the former is more than a passing trend.
4.- What makes Spanish literary translation unique?
I think something that makes Spanish literary translation unique is the variety of places in which Spanish is spoken and written across the globe. A quick Google search tells me that there are at least twenty Spanish-speaking countries in the world. And though the Spanish used in all those countries has a shared origin and certain common grammatical and orthographical conventions, there is a wide array of ways in which it has been adapted, modified, and hybridized. So, for example, a literary translator who works with a writer from Cuba is translating a different kind of Spanish than a translator who works with a writer from Spain, not just because the language is different in terms of dialect, idiom, slang, etcetera, but because the geographical, historical, and cultural context and consequent literary traditions of the two countries are different as well. And I think that—the variegated nature of the language and the diversity of literary traditions across the Spanish-speaking world—is what makes the translation of Spanish-language literature unique.
5.- Are all books translatable?
I am of the mind that a literary text that undergoes translation becomes a new work of art, distinct yet inextricable from the original. I’m also of the mind that not only is literal translation not possible, it is not translation. Word-for-word translations not only lose the meaning of the original, they often don’t make any sense. To me, translation is, by its very nature, a performance—a subjective and creative recreation of the original. And all performance implies a certain degree of improvisation, of invention. In that sense, a translation is never perfect, never definitive, because it is always filtered through an individual subjectivity. And so, if we accept, on the one hand, that translation is possible, and, on the other, that it is a performance, then there can be no book that is untranslatable. That said, there are, of course, texts that lend themselves to translation and texts that present near-impossible challenges.
6.- What is the state of translation in the US?
Historically speaking, the US has aggressively exported its culture and only passively imported other cultures. There is an oft-cited statistic that only three percent of the literature published in the US is in translation (I’ve also heard that that statistic overestimates the actual number) whereas in countries such as Germany and France, that number is closer to twenty percent. So, in that sense, the state of translation in the US is abysmal. But at the same time, as I’ve sort of hinted at previously, there does seem to be growing interest in literature in translation: a handful of new presses have sprung up over the past few years that focus largely—some exclusively—on publishing literature in translation: there are various initiatives (i.e. #name the translator, PEN’s model contract for literary translations: https://pen.org/a-model-contract-for-literary-translations/) that have attempted to raise awareness about the role translators play in bringing international literature to readers; and, as mentioned, there are awards specifically aimed at acknowledging and rewarding the work of translators. So I guess I would say I’m cautiously optimistic about the state of translation in he US, but, in a statistical sense, if we’re at all motivated to balance the rate at which we export our culture with the rate at which we import other cultures and to enrich our literary tradition vis-à-vis translation, we’ve got a long way to go.
7.- What is the state of translating Spanish literary works into English?
Spanish has historically been and remains one of the languages most commonly translated into English. And I think that, as interest in translated literature in general has spiked in recent years, so to has interest particularly in Spanish-language literature. I think there are a variety of factors that come into play there, and, though I’m no expert, I think one is the geographical and cultural proximity of Latin America and also the fact that, the US itself has one of the largest Spanish-speaking populations in the world. In addition, I think that, from a publishing perspective, the global success of Roberto Bolaño led US publishers, both large and small, to take risks with certain writers they might not have taken in the past. And I think that has contributed greatly to what might be termed a new boom in Spanish-language literature currently being published in translation.
8.- What work have you enjoyed the most translating?
Recently I have really been enjoying translating a short story collection by an Argentine writer who has yet to find an English-language publisher, Juan Ignacio Boido. His stories are beautiful, strange, and heartbreaking and the translation has been so fluid and natural that it feels almost prefigured somehow.
9.- Who has been the most challenging author to translate?
Carlos Labbé.
10.- What was the most difficult work?
Coreografías espirituales by Carlos Labbé.
11.- What are you working on at the moment? What are your future projects?
I am currently finishing Labbé’s above-mentioned Spiritual Choreographies. I am in the middle of translating La parte soñada by Rodrigo Fresán. I am working on a poetry collection by Fernanda García Lao and on the above-mentioned stories by Juan Ignacio Boido.
12.- What advice would you give an aspiring literary translator?
I don’t know if I have the experience necessary to offer any particularly sage or even practical advice, but I guess, if pressed, based on my experience, I would tell aspiring translators to find a writer or book that they really love and just start translating. Not to worry—at first—about publishing or rights or any of that. But just to go out and read and read and read until they find a voice that they feel truly passionate about and then practice and practice and practice until they find a way to recreate that voice in their target language.
Lily Meyer is a writer, translator, and critic. Her translations include Claudia Ulloa Donoso’s story collections Little Bird and Ice for Martians. Her ...
READ MORE
Lisa Dillman, Literary Translator, Professor of Pedagogy at Emory University, selected by...
READ MORE
Genre
Subscribe to our newsletter
Click here
Welcome to the New Spanish Books Website, a guide to current...