The Art of Translation, pt. 4

In part 3 of this series, I said, "...isn't the translator's job not only to make a book readable for us, but also to make it connect with us?"

I want to shift focus slightly and spend a bit of time considering what sorts of translations connect with us. Is it always the most accurate translation? Does the "most accurate" translation automatically equal the "best" one? Hmm...

This time around, rather than talking about hypothetical blue skies and hair pulling, I’m going to use an actual literary example from an Italian book you’ve probably heard a thing or two about: The Inferno by Dante Alighieri.

Technically speaking, The Inferno is actually an epic poem (basically a book-length poem). And in its original Italian, the book rhymes.

I don’t speak a word of Italian. I think buon giorno might mean good day, or something like that. That’s about it, though. (Okay, fine: if I’m right about that, I guess I speak two words of Italian.)

That said, I’m going to give you lines 1-6 of The Inferno in four different forms:

• The original Italian
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s 1867 translation
• Robert Pinsky’s translation (© 1994 by Robert Pinsky)
• Google’s translation

…but not in that order. ;)

Let’s see if we can guess which is which. Should be fun, right?

A

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita

   mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,

   ché la diritta via era smarrita.

Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura

   esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte

   che nel pensier rinova la paura!

(Okay, I’ll give you a hint just this one time: this one’s the Italian.)

B

In the middle of the walk of our lives

   I found myself in a dark forest,

   as the straightway was lost.

Ah how to tell what it was was tough

   it is wild wild and hard and strong

   that in thought re-fears fear!

C

Midway on our life’s journey, I found myself

   In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell

   About those woods is hard—so tangled and rough

And savage that thinking of it now, I feel

   The old fear stirring

D

Midway upon the journey of our life

   I found myself within a forest dark,

   For the straight-forward pathway had been lost.

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say

   What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,

   Which in the very thought renews the fear.

Again, I don’t speak Italian. But if we look at these translations, we can probably pick out a couple important tidbits about them, don’t you think?

First of all, what’s up with the repeated words in B? The repeated “was” is okay – just an unfortunate quirk of English that pops up sometimes. But why is “wild” repeated? 

Actually, if we compare B to the original, we can see where that "wild" repetition comes from. In right about the same place as “wild wild,” the Italian has selva selvaggia. Even without speaking Italian, we can see how similar those two words are – both start with “selva,” the second word just adds a suffix. I wonder if the Italian “-ggia” is similar to the English “-ly.” (I have NOT looked this up; I’m just theorizing.) In which case, selva selvaggia might mean something like “wildly wild.” – if so, that’s actually not quite as ridiculous, is it?

Also, interestingly, neither C nor D use the word “wild” here. C uses “tangled,” and D tells us the forest is “savage.” And neither uses a repetition, nor even an -ly adjective. Hmm. Maybe it's just a typo in B's translation? (Hey, these things happen sometimes...)

I have no idea which of these words is the most accurate. Then again, we’re talking about a forest here. Wouldn’t you say that all three (wild, savage, tangled) could be synonymous?

So all three might be decent translations, but B, at least, sticks the most true to the repetition in the original Italian. This seems important. The punctuation seems kind of weird in this one, though - although, then again, it actually matches the original Italian pretty well.

Now what can we pick out of C?

Perhaps the most obvious thing we can say about C is that where the line breaks happen in C doesn’t match either of the other two versions. B and D seem to end line 1 with the idea of our “life’s journey.” C, though, finishes the life’s-journey thought, then keeps going into the “I found myself” bit, all in line 1 (whereas “I found myself” begins in line 2 in the other two translations). In fact, perhaps because of this, C is a line and a half shorter than B and D.

C is also the only one that uses "woods" instead of "forest." Of course these words are highly synonymous, but why would it disagree with B and D on this front - even if it's only slightly?

Surely you see the pattern here: by comparing these four versions – even without speaking Italian – we can already see that C is shaping up to be less literal than B and D. It doesn’t automatically mean it’s a bad translation, per se, but, based on these few examples, it’s not the one I’d call the most accurate, at the very least.

Anything special about D?

The line breaks seem about right, as far as we can tell. It certainly isn't the most fluid of the translations, though – would you say? Sure, we can totally tell what’s going on in these lines. It feels a little forced, though. Not the smoothest of the three, anyway. (For example: who says "the forest dark"? Wouldn't we normally hear "the dark forest"?)

Aside from this, though, the overall ideas in D seem to match the other two reasonably enough.

So then. What’s your guess? Between B, C, and D, which is which? (Again, your choices being: 1867 Longsfellow, 1994 Pinsky, and 2017 Google.)

…

You’re absolutely right!

B = Google

C = Pinsky

D = Longsfellow

Google (B) certainly seemed the most literal. Clunky read and bad punctuation, but it seems rather accurate.

Pinsky (C) is probably the easiest to read, but he definitely takes the most liberties. (In fact, I didn’t point this out, but Pinsky’s is the only version that tries to make everything rhyme. Not the same rhyme scheme that Dante uses, but at least he tried to use rhymes. Lots and lots of them, if you read the whole book.)

Longfellow (D) was a bit old-timey – but, then again, it was translated 150 years ago, so of course it is. And it seems to have the right ideas, more or less.

That said, next time you read The Inferno, which translation would you pick?

• Literally Literal* (Google),
• Old-Timey But Halfway Accurate Wording (Longfellow), or
• Readable But Not-So-Accurate (Pinsky)?

Is one translation better than another? If by "better" we mean "more accurate," then yes, certainly one of these is "better." But which do you think will help you understand and enjoy and connect with the book more? And, ultimately, wouldn’t you say that’s the best translation for you, at least?

*Please tell me you picked up on why I called it "Literally Literal" – get it? – like this translation’s “wildly wild” thing? 

...Anyone?

 …eesh. Tough crowd.