As much as we would all love to read some Rimbaud, Dostoevsky, or Ferrante in their original tongues, unfortunately, multilingualism is not entirely achievable for us all, and so we must rely on translations to give us an insight into the intricacies of many great works. And it is here that the translator becomes as much an artist as the writer—the task is not solely to convert words, but to carry over tone, metre, and cultural understanding.
“Aujourd’hui Maman est morte.” For all the literature lovers out there, you may recognise this as the opening line from Albert Camus’ L’étranger (The Stranger), commonly translated into English as “Mother died today.” But does that truly encapsulate the blend of affection and detachment that Camus is striving for within his protagonist, Meursault? “Mother” feels somewhat too formal and distant, and yet, “mum” or “mummy” seems too casual, too immature. “Maman,” however, sits somewhere in between, carrying with it Camus’ portrayal of his protagonist as both emotionally reserved and yet undeniably bound to his mother in a familiar, intimate way. Therefore, the most ideal outcome I have seen is one which preserves this “maman” even within an English translation, in order to retain its authenticity and stay true to Camus’ understanding of Meursault. Leaving this word untranslated not only respects its cultural and emotional weight but also reminds the reader that they are encountering a text born of another language, another world.
When regarding poetry, a further issue arises in terms of metre and meaning. If we take Goethe’s Faust, for instance, translators are faced with a dilemma: must they prioritise the rhythm and rhyme of the original verse, or its literal meaning? Rarely can both be preserved simultaneously—a verse that sings in German may become clumsy if translated directly into English, and if metre is sustained, then philosophical and cultural nuance may have to be sacrificed. Neither option is necessarily wrong, and each translator will have their own specific style, but it does, nonetheless, beg the question: are some works of literature so culturally entwined as to be rendered untranslatable?
We can even take examples from more popular literature, such as Harry Potter, which show just how playful translation can be. In French, “Hogwarts” becomes “Poudlard,” “Snape” becomes “Rogue,” and whilst they are entirely different words, they carry the same sense of wordplay and characterisation that exists within the original version, allowing every reader to be fully immersed in the world.
Authenticity in translation, then, is not about perfect fidelity to the original; it is about evoking the same experience, emotion, or energy for the readers. And the most beautiful part is that there is no ‘right translation’—only different interpretations that open up new ways of encountering a text. Each version becomes a dialogue between author and translator, with each translation being not a distortion of the original, but an extension of its life.
“Confused” by CollegeDegrees360 is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0