Translating Identity?

The main purpose of language, the one that is obvious constantly, on every single day of our lives, is communication. With different nations, with different people – well, and some would probably add the communication with themselves (sometimes quite an underestimated branch). While we as translators do our best to enable communication among cultures and to decipher produced texts and speeches for the ones who do not know the source language, how much of „identity“ are we translating? Or maybe not even translating, but taking away, adding and changing?

Language can unite people and it can divide people. This is the case not only due to different vocabularies and ways of expressing our thoughts, but it can also be the purposeful and conscious emphasis of one’s identity or distinctiveness from others through language.

According to Joanna Thornborrow there are four kinds of identity:

• Master identities (stable and unchanging: gender, ethnicity, age, …)
• Interactional identities (roles taken on in communicational contexts with specific other people)
• Personal identities (characteristic ways of behaviour: hotheaded, honest, forthright,…)
• Relational identities (kind of relationship enacted with a particular conversational partner or in a specific situation)

If we take a closer look, all of these identities produce a different use of language, as well as we can knowingly choose a use of language incongruent with our identity in order to hide our true self.

Imagine a middle-aged average citizen from central Europe. He is shy and not very sociable. His parents taught him to speak in a noble manner, never curse and always speak politely and in a calm, firm tone. In a new surrounding, he decides to start his life all over again. And he starts to use a language full of the newest expressions, swearwords, and to speak his mind – no matter what the sound of that might be. And – just to be a bit more exotic, he adds an African accent. He might still wear his woolen pullover with a red-nosed reindeer, but probably you would rather think his clothes to be a disguise than his language. So, if you are translating – be it a text or a spoken word – where is the dictionary that gives you a sense of that identity, of the true image you should be delivering? Usually we have our routine vocabularies, words and phrases we use with our own identity in our own life. As a translator there are cases, when we need to have the ability to put ourselves in the position of someone else – be it a function, a character in a play, or a real person. For interpreters that might sometimes even come close to acting – using a language and ways of behavior we usually do not, and maybe even cannot, identify with.

What can a translator support or mess up if he or she does not possess the necessary sensitivity for the nuances of human behaviour and, thus, language? Certainly, the character in a book or film can become a completely different person – maybe even loose its purpose – if the language use is changed. If Eliza Doolittle in „My Fair Lady“ would speak standard language, or make only slightly less mistakes in grammar and pronunciation, the whole story would loose its purpose and wit. Mr. Higgins would not even have to be in it. The identity of characters, thus, is a huge aspect of language use and its translation. 

The correct delivery of the identity of a speaker mirrored in his/her language use is an important factor in business meetings as well. A business man speaking using very elevated language emphasizing his elevated position cannot be taken as serious when his speech is translated with simple and unidimensional expressions. That is, his intended image of an appreciated intellectual will not be as clear when the translation misses out aspects of identity. An uneducated person at a court trial, on the other hand, might get a different treatment and the case might be considered differently than if an elevated, or at least very correct and precise language would be used.

After all, the question is whether a translator should have his own translating identity or whether he should be translating identity. Should translators pick one type of language use he always goes for, or should he be able to change his/her own language use in dependency of the identity of the speaker/charakter? 

Translators need to be flexible speakers. Whichever language use they are translating, they need to assume part of the identity in question and to stick to it throughout their translation. Doing a bit of research on the different types of language use in advance wouldn´t hurt. Sometimes it might cost quite an effort to withhold one’s own identity during the translation process.

In the end, this is one of the fascinating aspects of translating. In no other professional field you get the chance to dip into so many different areas of life, circumstances people find themselves in, ways of interaction than you do when observing others in order to translate their language – their identity.

Robots, translation and metaphor

We are living in times of constant change and mechanisation of every possible area of life. Books are replaced by Kindles, organs by 3D-prints, vacuum cleaners by robots and cashiers by automatic cash desks. Do translators need to worry?

Recently I had a conversation with a professor dealing with Artificial Intelligence that I cannot get off of my mind. It was certainly a queer encounter – a young Jane-Austen admirer adoring letters and old books that make you sneeze of dust when you approach them and an elderly professor adoring Artificial Intelligence and everything it provides humanity with. What began as a superficial pro- and con-discussion, quickly evolved into a consideration of the aspects of language that make it truly human and that might be irreplacable by any machine.

Machines have a seemingly unlimited capacity to learn new words, phrases and even whole contexts. In the near future, there will be robots teaching classes, nursing seniors and conducting consultations. But will there be robots completely replacing translators? I bet not. I bet not, because I want to believe in a human language that is resistant to technological progress. Facebook, Twitter and chatrooms actually lead to an approximation of our everyday language to a language that might be used by machines without larger barriers. Nevertheless, even though we are breaking down language to a minimum through these ways of communicating, we are still using aspects of language that, I believe, a machine can never be able to recognize.

There is at least one prominent stylistic device that might be truly resistant to mechanisation: metaphor. A metaphor is the transfer of characteristics of one area of reality to another. When we use metaphors like „He rolled the dice“ (in the sense of „take a chance“), we are giving away a lot of additional information about our mental structure, about our culture and our attitude. This metaphor would not be used in a culture where gambling is forbidden, it could be meant ironically and in some contexts it might as well be a literal statement. Well, one could say that one day machines will have such a huge pool of contexts, cultural information and nuances of meaning at hand that they will pick the right meanings for common metaphorical expressions and idioms. One thing that will be impossible for machines to grasp are creative metaphors. Imagine a conversation between a robot and a human:

„My dog really has a hard time deciding whether to destroy the pillow or the ball.“

„H-e w-i-l-l m-a-k-e u-p h-i-s m-i-n-d.“

„Well, on the one paw he really hates that pillow and the flowers on it. On the other paw, the ball should be stopped from rolling away from him.“

„---„

A robot cannot recognize the transfer of the phrase „on the one hand…on the other hand“ to the animal world and will not be able to make any sense of what he heard. A human being would probably answer with another humorous comment, or at least understand what was said. And there is another aspect that would be lost through robot communication – humour. How should a machine understand irony and comments that are not literal and how should a machine even produce something like that? And further, what would a life without humour and unpredictable conversations be?

Humour, irony, metaphor – all these non-literal uses of language are tools for expressing human emotions and attitudes. A robot can be programmed to sort and recognize these, but he can never truly understand and reenact them. In order to translate texts and utterances, every nuance and facet of the background of the message must be understood and felt. Even human translators are good translators only if they have a sense of style and fine-grained differences and if they are acquainted with the culture of the speaker/writer.

Culture-specific concepts are, even amongst human interlocutors, a very sensitive issue. Some are universal – happiness is in all cultures seen as an upwards movement. When it comes to the center of emotion in our body, things look different. In the Iranian culture, the liver is the seat of emotion – we don’t „fall in love“ and feel this in our heart, rather we „fall liver onto someone“. A machine would, thus, need to be able to 1. recognize the culture the interlocutor comes from and 2. know all cultural concepts manifested in the language.

Besides that, there are plays and literary pieces to be translated, including names and sceneries that need to be adapted to the target culture. A machine cannot have the sensitivity for finding the adequate equivalents to these expressions in a target language.

All in all, it seems impossible to replace human translators. If they do not implant a real brain in a robot and a heart (or a liver) for the reception of emotional waves, it will never be possible for machines to fully replace a human language specialist. It seems as if some aspects of humanity will just stay human.

Just a thought...

Sometimes your head is just so full of thoughts and images and memories that you can´t think anymore. You feel the urge to write something down, to think something through and it´s just not working. It´s like your thoughts are always one step ahead of your brain and all that stays palpable is their color. That´s where it really helps to read good books. Because if you´re lucky, you find thoughts in them you can hold on to.
I recently discovered such a book that was recommended to me by a dear friend (which actually means I didn´t discover it myself after all).
One sentence really stuck in this chaos and haze of adult life: "Every free minute is a short story with a happy ending" (Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts)
What would it be like to really stick to that thought? And to celebrate every minute as a short story. Wouldn´t that elevate our experiences to celebrations of complete awareness and make us live our lives really to the fullest? Even if it were short stories without a happy ending - they are valuable, too. I find myself sometimes rushing through life so much that I start having déjà-vus. I guess that is because I have not processed the moments with awareness and indulgence.
I admit, celebrating every minute might get a bit exhausting. But at least, it makes a difference to think about it. And to try to cherish our time. And the people we spend it with.

The Circus of Life

Chimpanzee, KP

When I look at the chimpanzee I drew in a creative minute last night, I imagine him in a zoo or in an arena, watching and imagining things he could do outside of it. And it strikes me that I sometimes feel exactly like this chimpanzee. Isn´t life a circus? We practice our show from childhood on. Some get very good at it and believe themselves that their show is their life. But sometimes it´s really about finding a tree to climb on and enjoy to misbehave and be wild.

Time flies

There is this one thing that is bothering me recently. I begin to perceive three months as a really short time before a deadline or some other event. Earlier in my life it was like "Oh, that´s in November, that´s so far away. It´s only August." Now it´s more sounding like "Oh gosh, November, that´s really close."

I´ve started to realize that I can´t live without my planner anymore. Appointments are made on the long run and my friends are usually booked out three months ahead. 

I don´t want to live like that. I don´t want my life to be a series of appointments. How should I know in August if I want to go out for dinner with friends on the 16th of November? Isn´t it a pity that spending time with your friends becomes an obligation in your planner? I tried to make my appointments spontaneously - and there is very few people whom that works with. So you get to decide - either enter the appointment mill or see only very few of your friends. Entering the mill with only one leg works for now. We will see how it goes later in life, when we all have a family with children, pets and a garden. I believe, it is important to stay spontaneous in every stage of life. And I´m pretty sure that this is possible - at least I will try to resist the planner for my private life a bit more. 

But let´s get back to the title of this post. I was shocked how fast weeks flew by the past few months, just because they were unbelievably packed with obligations and events. It was certainly exciting, but I wondered when I will every get the time to stand still for a moment again. To just sit and listen to my own thoughts. I know I need that, but there´s always something to do and somewhere to go and as I´m a curious person, I can´t resist the temptation. As Oscar Wilde says "Temptation is the one thing I cannot resist." How to find the balance between the exciting life and an inner peace?

Mind in chaos on a summer night

What is wrong with us humans? Why do we understand when it´s too late. We work, work and work. We work until we collapse. And we are said to be smarter than ants. I am not so sure about that. Some are, yes. They end up being crushed by the others.
Why does it take tragedies to make us understand what happiness is? To remember what life is. No one will remember the things he bought on his deathbed. A life consisting of shopping and business is sad and empty. In the end there will be nothing left worth remembering and being happy about. Nothing making you think "Yes, my life was fulfilling and I can let go. And I have given the people I leave behind enough love to let them remember me with a warm feeling." And that is the real tragedy. And the greatest misfortune.

Sometimes, just sometimes, we encounter people, who inspire us to live life as we should - to the fullest. These people are rare. And sometimes they are so far from people who are, or pretend to be, flawless. Who have the highest recommendations of society. Hardly anyone would trust a homeless person. But maybe that homeless person would give his life for someone. Do we know what led to his situation? No. But we judge. We judge as soon as we lay an eye on him. "Look at the man over there, honey, who never did anything valuable in his life. Never end up like him." But maybe he was betrayed. Maybe he lost everything.
We see a disabled person and feel compassion right away. Not noticing that this disabled person does not need our compassion, he needs to be treated like everyone else, to joke around and to live. And we do not realise that maybe this homeless person looks at a sunbeam and feels more joy than we did the whole last week. And the disabled person has a strength we will never gain.

There is so much more than what we can see with our eyes. And what is invisible to our eye is mostly what it´s worth living for. As the little prince says - what is essential is invisible to the eye.

Hugo...the Boss

No, I didn´t plan to invite my dog into my bed. Yes, I know that it is scientifically proven that dog owner´s sleep quality drastically wanes if they are woken up by a devoted face-licking session every morning. And a few times during the night. But who could resist those cute little button eyes. Well, I admit, accompanied by a bad breath that would never be forgiven in a lover.

One year has gone by since my little Tibetan Spaniel/Pekinese Hugo came into my life. Since then we are inseparable. He was found on the street, covered in dirt and fleas. I fell in love with him as soon as I saw his image on the internet. Seems as if we were destined to go through life together. It turned out, he had been found by my neighbours and a few hours later he was my new companion. I was happy and scared at the same time. Owning a dog and living alone is not always an easy task. But the reward of a dog´s love is priceless. 

My neighbour asked me not long ago if I love Hugo because he´s so well-behaved. People seem to forget that any misbehaviour of our dog is our own mistake. I feel Hugo getting nervous everytime I am not in a good mood. Your behaviour and condition is mirrored in your dog. And it needs a lot of dedication, patience and a bit of knowledge about dog training to make a dog a well-educated dog. No, when the dog enters your door, he needs to be well-behaved. If he´s not, he will be abandoned. End of story. There are no words to describe my disappointment in humans every time I see an abandoned dog on the street looking at me with sad eyes. Why? Because he was sad you were at work leaving him alone all day and destroyed your pillow out of boredom or dispair? Because you again walked him only ten minutes even if he´s a hunting dog that needs to be running a few hours a day in order to be satisfied? 

If you pay just a little attention to your dog every day and walk him a bit longer, you will be rewarded with ever-lasting, unconditional love. More than humans can give you in the most cases, isn´t it? Well, ok, they could learn our language to be perfect. But maybe they are so perfect just because they don´t speak it. 

I remember losing a lot of nerves with Hugo. He was not one of the easy-going ones, I had to fight for every tiniest piece of authority with a lot of patience and sometimes a small portion of despair. But he is my true companion, every day, in whatever shape I may be. I don´t know how my day would look like if he wouldn´t do his see-I´m-standing-on-only-two-legs-and-waving-to-you-I´ve-deserved-my-meal-earlier-dance. Or if I would enter the door and he wouldn´t come running with his guilty face in front of almost the whole content of my clothes basket. Or finding the furniture always in a perfect position. My, would that be a boring life.