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Open Letter to the
press from a group of literary translators who participate in the
discussion list
Biblit,
demanding greater respect and just recognition for the all-too-often
overlooked figure of the translator, "literature's last, true knight
errant", according to the epic definition of Fruttero&Lucentini.
Knights Errant of Literature
English version
courtesy of Anna Milano Appel
«The
problem of translating is actually the very same as that of writing, and
the translator is at the heart of it perhaps even more so than the author.
He is asked [...] to master not just a language, but everything that lies
behind it, that is to say, an entire culture, an entire world, an entire
way of viewing the world. [...] He is asked to pull off this arduous yet
impassioned effort without calling attention to himself. [...] He is asked
to consider the fact that the reader isn't even aware of him his greatest
triumph [...] an ascetic, an essentially selfless hero, ready to give his
all in exchange for very little and to disappear into the twilight,
anonymous and sublime, when the epic deed is accomplished. The translator
is literature's last, true knight errant».
(Fruttero&Lucentini, I ferri
del mestiere (Tools of the Trade),
Einaudi, Torino 2003)
We are knights
errant: sublime, we can't say, but we know anonymity all too well. We do
not claim heroism, and twilight is the backdrop for all our days, but we
are tired of letting it swallow us up at every endeavor.
We have first and last names, behind which lie a passion for a work that
is nurtured in silence, as well as a bitter dose of frustration because
the world we feel we have every right to occupy, the world of words, of
literature, fiction and non-fiction, all too rarely notices and remembers
us.
Our publishers, it's true, print our name on the title page, and some of
the more daring ones even put it on the cover: they are bound to mention
it by a law that protects creative derivatives of a work, «such as
translations in another language», thereby rendering the artistic dignity
of the translator equal to that of the author under the law. But only a
few, honorable reviewers' voices concede full dignity to the figure of the
translator, and the editors of cultural pages of newspapers and magazines
who bother to indicate the translator's name along with other information
are scarcely more numerous.
The same law affirms that summaries, citations or reproductions of an
intellectual work must be «accompanied always by mention of the title of
the work, and the names of the author, publisher and, in the case of a
translation, the translator», yet the established practice is to replicate
passages from a translated work within other texts or read them in the
context of a program without ever citing the person who made that work
available in our language.
In the light of this debasing, routine fact, we consider it only just to
turn to the broader public in an attempt to break out of that eternal
twilight that, while it may regard the nature of what we do, does not
reflect the full truth about our work. Though it is important that we
remain discreet, we do not want to be invisible.
The fact that someone must certainly have dedicated several months of
his/her life to translating the pages of a book not originally conceived
in the reader's language may escape the general reader of that book...
But we do not feel equally as indulgent toward those who are «insiders»:
the critics, reviewers, editors of cultural pages, journalists, and hosts
of radio and television programs in which books are spoken of.
We too exist; we too are part of the process that generates those very
important items: books. Books that make you cry and make you laugh, books
of love and sorrow, books that bring knowledge and allow escape, books
that in some way touch people's hearts and minds, are due to us as well.
We want our name to be there to confirm it and we do not want our work to
pass unnoticed in silence.
A reviewer who lavishes praise on an author's style, lexical choices and
linguistic acrobatics should feel it his duty to comment on its translated
version if he has read the book in the original; and if he has read it in
translation, he should remember that what he has read are the words,
sentences, and rhythms chosen by the translator.
We demand just recognition at the same time that we are prepared to accept
any qualified, well-founded criticism.
We are knights errant, and we are not afraid.
As of
this time, the following have indicated their support
(see
Italian
version)
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