Translation of the topic

Author: Xu Jun
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2006-11-01
Features: "Embarrassment" generally carries two meanings: It first implies a feeling of being at a loss; second, it suggests a state of indecision. The former is implicit, known only to the person involved; the latter is explicit, observable and noticeable by others. The embarrassment of translators is no exception; it is either implicit or explicit and embedded in the translation practice and theory of translators. The embarrassment of translators is entirely triggered by the issue of their identity. When the translation community still advocated that translators were servants of the original author, even believing in the view that one servant (translator) served two masters (author and reader), the identity of translators was clear, and thus no embarrassment was involved. "Embarrassment" arises from the consideration and discussion of a theoretical issue: As translators, should we maintain a loyal attitude towards the thoughts of the original author or adopt a rebellious stance? The answer to this question was once straightforward, almost self-evident, in earlier years. But in recent years, the advocates of fidelity have faced numerous criticisms, and the trend has reversed. Perhaps it is simply because the times have changed, and the focus of the issues has shifted accordingly. However, many translation practitioners and theorists who, in my view, belong to the camp of fidelity have indeed, to varying degrees, theoretically acknowledged and turned toward the argument of rebellion. This is a fact I have often sensed in recent years, and it is also a fact I have once again perceived after reading Xu Jun's major work, On Translation. [①] Xu Jun's On Translation is quite systematic and comprehensive. Without years of extensive translation practice and research in translation theory, such a work could not have been produced. His translation theory specifically includes: the theory of the essence of translation, the theory of the process of translation, the theory of the meaning of translation, the theory of the factors of translation, the theory of the contradictions of translation, the theory of the subject of translation, and the theory of translation value and criticism. However, I have not seen him propose a theory of translation types. I have not conducted specialized research, but I wonder if all translations can be roughly divided into three categories: 1) technical, 2) literary, and 3) ideological. Of course, whether this classification is complete is not actually important. The main purpose here is to say: if translation dominated by technology is related to the principles of linguistics, such as the laws of interlingual conversion, and if translation dominated by literature is related to the principles of literary studies, such as style and essence, then translation dominated by ideology is related to the principles of hermeneutics, such as the possibilities and limits of understanding and interpretation. Ideological translation must necessarily involve interpretive elements, and of course, it must first involve the element of understanding. And what I am concerned with is precisely ideological translation. It is undoubtedly true that ideological translation involves the issue of meaning more than other types of translation, primarily involving the understanding of the original author's intention, and then involving the retelling of that intention. I believe that scholars in the translation community would hardly deny the validity of this basic fact. To further elaborate, if meaning corresponds to thought and retelling or expression corresponds to language, then ideological translation, in my view, is primarily the relationship between thought and language. This issue has a long history. Ancient Western philosophers such as Socrates-Plato and Aristotle discussed it, for example, as the dialogue of the soul with itself, as described by Plato. Ancient Eastern philosophies, such as Buddhism, also discussed it, for example, as the relationship between intention, speech, and action. Ancient Chinese thinkers also debated it, for example, as the relationship between intention and language, as described by Zhuangzi. In modern times, it became a focal point of attention, with figures like Rousseau, Herder, Humboldt, and Schleiermacher making it a central focus of their thinking. Modern philosophers such as Wittgenstein, Husserl, and Heidegger could not avoid it either. Let alone contemporary linguistics and linguistic philosophy, psychology and philosophy of mind, which still occupy a central position in these disciplines. Regarding ideological translation, predecessors have already said a great deal, leaving many points for reference. What can our generation add beyond that? I am not entirely sure. But I believe that if anything new can be offered, it might lie in the repositioning of the translator's identity in translation theory. Fidelity and rebellion are clearly intrinsically linked to this redefinition of the translator's identity. The dominance of rebellion in translation theory may well be related to the current era's excessive preference for the right to interpret. The reader-centered theory in hermeneutics manifests as a translator-centered theory in translation theory. It is difficult to say whether the original proponents of contemporary hermeneutics would be pleased with this outcome. Even decades ago, translators were often required to embody themselves in the translation, making it indistinguishable from the original work. The translator's subjectivity may manifest or remain hidden depending on the strength of the translator's self-awareness, but it is unconscious, for example, in the translation style of Fu Lei, which is not in the translation. On the other hand, when translating a work that is stylistically incompatible with the translator's own style, the translator has an even greater responsibility to suppress their own style—of course, the best way is simply not to translate works that are stylistically too different from one's own. If an actor always wants to play themselves in any role, then that actor cannot truly be considered outstanding. Translation is no different. W.R. Benjamin once said, "If Pushkin wanted to translate Goethe, we would expect the translation to reveal not himself, but Goethe." [②] At the "Translation and Hermeneutics" symposium held at Sun Yat-sen University earlier this year, I frankly told Xu Jun, "I bought Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being not to read Xu Jun." These requirements should be self-evident, and even repeating them here would seem redundant. But on the other hand, it is indeed possible to see that among those who advocate rebellion, there are indeed serious scholars like Xu Jun, and thus the proposal of rebellion must have its theoretical foundation. The first point to note is that if someone advocates fidelity or rebellion, it must first be clarified to what fidelity or rebellion is referring. In ideological translation, for example, in the translation of the Bible, if the translator's task, as W. Benjamin said, is to convey ideas, then rebellion in linguistic expression is tolerable. Specifically, the question of how to convey the same idea or transfer the same meaning using different linguistic symbols, expressions, styles, and tones is a secondary issue, though not entirely insignificant. Conversely, rebellion against ideas or meaning is not allowed, otherwise the translator would be creating rather than translating. This can be considered the bottom line of the translator's identity as a translator. Such a statement, of course, implies a premise: thought and language are not on the same level; at least they cannot replace each other. The validity of this premise can be supported by the research findings of L.S. Vygotsky. He, drawing on the research of Gestalt psychologists on the language and intelligence of apes and the research of developmental psychologists on the language and intelligence of children, reached the noteworthy conclusion: "Thought and language have different genetic roots," "these two functions develop along different paths and are independent of each other," and he particularly pointed out, "In the development of thought and language, thought has a pre-linguistic stage, and language has a pre-thought stage, and the manifestations of both are very clear." However, Vygotsky also pointed out, and this is a crucial argument: "The relationship between thought functions and language functions in apes is not clear and unchanging," but in the development of children's psychology, these two functions can merge. At this point, "thought becomes the verbalized thing, and language becomes the rational thing." [③] It is precisely at this point that the key difference between humans and highly intelligent animals like apes becomes apparent: only in the former are thought and language mutually convergent and continuously elevated on both sides through symbols. This process is what makes humans increasingly different from apes and other highly intelligent animals. Of course, this convergence is not complete. We can be certain that there exist "non-verbal thought" and "non-intellectual speech." They are independent and do not participate in the above merging of thought and language, but are indirectly influenced by the process of verbal thought. [④] If we accept Vygotsky's research findings, we no longer need to consider the reflections of some philosophers of language on the issue of the identity of thought and language, such as no longer needing to answer the question raised by Wittgenstein: whether children "can think spontaneously even without learning any language?" [⑤] That is to say, we can accept the premise of the non-identity of thought and language. On this premise, when we talk about translation, we can distinguish two fundamental meanings: First meaning: the transfer of thought or idea into language. "Translate" or "übersetzen" first refers to the transfer of an idea from thought to language, or the transformation of something implied into something expressed. This process is completed by the original author himself. This is also the basic condition that makes the original author an original author. Therefore, Heidegger would say: "We are always translating our own language, our mother tongue, into its own words. Speaking (sprechen) and discourse (reden) themselves are translations. This translation (übersetzen) can occur without changes in linguistic expression." [⑥] This process may seem simple, but its complexity is not inferior to the transfer that translators must complete. Because the transfer from thought to language, in principle, involves two levels or stages: first, the transfer from mental activity to internal language, and second, the transfer from internal language to external language. From the above quote, it appears that Heidegger tends to equate thought with internal speech or discourse. This means that he is more influenced by Schleiermarch rather than Husserl on this issue. Husserl once clearly distinguished between conscious activity and inner monologue and external communication. It can be said that Husserl's perspective is closer to Vygotsky's research findings. In Vygotsky's view, this transfer from thought to language can be further divided into four aspects: 1) motivation (emotion, desire); 2) thought; 3) internal language; 4) external language. They can be considered as four connecting links between psychology and linguistics. For simplicity, we will only divide them into two stages here: internal language and external language. Yuchefu's saying, "Once language makes a sound, it becomes a lie," means that before transferring from one language to another, the transfer of thought (internal language) to language (external language) within the same subject has already become a problem. The common saying, "words fail to express the meaning," is an expression of this problem. Now, let's look at Heidegger's view of translation. In his view, translation is not reconstruction but transfer, that is, transfer to the original thing that was originally spoken. [⑦] This contains multiple meanings: first, the transfer from thought to internal language, then from internal language to external language—this is the task of the original author; then from external language to another external language—this is the task of the translator. Here, we have already mentioned the second fundamental meaning of ideological translation: the transfer of thought must be assisted by at least two external languages. This meaning is self-evident. It is also the general meaning of translation, that is, converting one external language into another external language. But if we take both meanings into account, then in translation, we are at least faced with dual transfer issues. In fact, if the possibility of translating from one external language to another needs to be proven, then the possibility of transferring from thought to language (approximately: from internal language to external language) also needs to be proven. L. Lein said, "Two different languages are two different worldviews. It can be said that every true translation must first strip the thought of unfamiliar words and then dress it up in one's own words." [⑧] Here, language is equated with the combination of thought and words, while the usual meaning of language is taken as words. The translation we usually refer to largely concerns this process of "stripping" and "redressing." It needs to be explained that in general translation, the first meaning mentioned above is often ignored. This is mainly because the transfer process from thought to external language mentioned above is assumed to be completed in the process of translating from one language to another. We usually do not doubt that the original author has expressed his thoughts through his own language. Once this point is questioned, the translator's tendency toward rebellion arises. At this point, the "betrayal" we refer to is not a betrayal of the original author's thoughts but of his linguistic expression. If the translator believes that the original author's language obscures the thoughts he wanted to express, then the translator's rebellion against the original author's words, sentences, and even style is legitimate. But this legitimacy is ultimately limited, depending on the strength of the translator's belief: whether he understands the thoughts expressed through the original author's language better than the original author himself. This involves the core issue of hermeneutics. Generally speaking, hermeneutics denies the existence of an objective meaning that can be accessed by everyone. It holds that meaning is always in interaction with the meaning recipient. However, hermeneutics does not deny the existence of the original meaning; otherwise, we would have no way to talk about the transfer of meaning. The understanding of meaning in hermeneutics is equivalent to the reconstruction of an idea, and this reconstruction is not original but cannot be copied. R. Spaemann said: "Reconstruction means to rethink an idea once again, but to think it better. According to the rules of art, one must truly think about something that was only vaguely guessed at the beginning, something that was only 'intuitively' grasped. Only what can be so reconstructed can be considered a truly thought-out thing." [⑨] Therefore, when a translator reconstructs the original author's thoughts, he may be able to think through them better than the original author (for example, more harmoniously) and express them better than the original author (for example, more accessibly). However, even in this case, it is difficult for the translator to grant himself the right to rebel overall. Specifically, the translator may have the right to rebel against certain linguistic expressions of the original work, but not the right to rebel against the understanding of the original work's thoughts. If rebellion theorists acknowledge this point, then our debate can be considered settled. If not, I may have to say a few more words. We can indeed acknowledge that value judgments and traditional prejudices are in various translation and research concepts, not only in the humanities but also in the social sciences and even natural sciences. But does this mean that the pursuit of objectivity is meaningless for scientists? The interpretation of the text is the same as the understanding of the truth. Currently, the understanding of hermeneutic principles in academia excessively promotes the aspect that the "original meaning" does not exist (strictly speaking, does not "objectively" exist), without explaining that the existence of the "original meaning" is precisely the premise for the establishment of various interpretations. If the "original meaning" is lost, or if the belief in the existence of the "original meaning" is lost, the comparability of various interpretations no longer exists, and interpretation is no longer interpretation but becomes original. Taking painting as an example, we can say that a forgery can be painted better than an original. But if there is no original, then the work that is considered a forgery also loses the right to exist as a "forgery." And the essence of a translation work contains the component of a "forgery." In this sense, the translator is no freer than the forger. Then does the translator have any freedom? Of course, he can freely choose the author, language, topic, concept, era, work, form, style, etc. But he cannot freely interpret. The subjectivity of interpretation does not equal the arbitrariness of interpretation. This means that the translator must, to the extent possible, approach the original meaning, regardless of whether he can achieve it. What is said here is our effort orientation in translation: we must move toward the pole of the original meaning, not toward the pole of arbitrariness. Whether the translator can understand the original author better than the original author himself depends largely on the strength of the translator's subjectivity. I have always maintained a cautious attitude on this point. Mr. Chen Xiuzhai once said, "The translator must not think he understands everything," which also expresses this attitude. In my view, the translator's right to interpret is very limited, usually only appearing when the original meaning is ambiguous. But even in this case, we still have the possibility of using ambiguity to deal with ambiguity, choosing a translation that is relatively close to the original ambiguous meaning in ambiguous language. Only when this possibility no longer exists, for example, when we do not know whether "bruder" refers to "brother" or "brother" and must, according to Chinese habits, tell the reader whether it is "brother" or "brother"; that is to say, only when we have to give up ambiguity and make a clear choice, do we have the right to interpret. According to the above division, today we can interpret the ideal of "faithfulness, expressiveness, and elegance" in ideological translation as follows:
Faithfulness: the reconstruction of thought. The truthful grasp of the thought to be expressed in the original work. As mentioned earlier, it can be said to be a certain kind of meaning reconstruction, that is, to rethink an idea, but to think it better.
Expressiveness: the retelling of language. Expressing the meaning of the original work as truthfully as possible, even more fluently, in one's own language, that is, the thought grasped by the translator from the original work.
Elegance: the replication of style. Not the embellishment of style, but the truthful replication of the original style, whether it is elegant or vulgar, obscure or clear. Then returning to Xu Jun's On Translation. Xu Jun is both the author of On Translation and the translator of Kundera's masterpiece, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Reports say that when Kundera authorized Shanghai Translation Publishing House to translate and publish his works, he had only one requirement: "faithfulness to the original." But the translator Xu Jun, in his On Translation, views the Italian proverb "A translator is a traitor" as a "simple truth," accepts it frankly, and proposes the concept of "meaning regeneration" in translation. [⑩] Here seems to be an actual confrontation between the author and the translator. However, from the media's introduction, Xu Jun also acknowledges himself as a faithfulist, close to the original as his translation principle. He draws a line between Han Shaoong's translation of The Unbearable Lightness of Being and his own translation of The Unbearable Lightness of Being: the former is a work "full of the author's personal style," while the latter can be said to be a "translator's work that is closer to the original." As a result, the confrontation between Kundera and Xu Jun turns out to be a confrontation between Xu Jun's own practice and his own theory. Can we say: a faithfulist in practice, a rebel in theory—this is Xu Jun's embarrassment, and also the embarrassment of many translators today? The purpose of this article is not only to point out this embarrassment but also to provide an attempt to theoretically explain and resolve this embarrassment. June 2, 2004, in Guangzhou--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[①] Xu Jun, On Translation, Wuhan, 2003. Xu Jun here firmly describes fidelity as "a naive and idealized view of translation" (p. 315). [②] Quoted from: K.Dedecius, vom übersetzen, Frankfurt a.M., 1986, p. 112. [③] See Vygotsky, Thought and Language, translated by Li Wei, Hangzhou, 1997, p. 46, 49. [④] Vygotsky, Thought and Language, p. 54. [⑤] See L.Wittgenstein, Philosophical Remarks, in: Werkausgabe Band 2, Frankfurt a.M., 1981, p. 53f. [⑥] M.Heidegger, Parmenides, GA 54, p. 17f. [⑦] R.Spaemann, "Quot;Zureinführung, Philosophiegeschichten nach Martin Heideggerquot;", in: Th.Buchheim (ed.), Destruktion und übersetzung, Weinheim, 1989, p. 5. [⑧] Quoted from: K.Dedecius, vom übersetzen, Frankfurt a.M., 1986, p. 110. [⑨] R.Spaemann: "Quot;Zureinführung. Philosophiegeschichten nach Martin Heideggerquot;", in: a.a.o., p. 4f. [⑩] See Xu Jun, On Translation, Chapter 3, Section 6, and Chapter 6, Section 2.