WP2: Perspectives and Challenges

Kearry Qian
7 min readMar 21, 2024

The purpose of this project is to gather insights from various sources and help develop and support my argument in WP3. I will review and analyze the three interviews I conducted.

Part 1: A Linguistics Approach (Key Q&A)

Interviewee: Linguistics Ph.D. student at USC / Badminton Partner

Question 1: From a linguistics perspective, what are your general thoughts on translating artistic works?

“It’s a pretty established tenant in Linguistics that all languages but basically are equally communicable, which means that any thought or idea that can be communicated in one language can be communicated in the other. It might be a little bit harder if there’s one language has a specific word for something; it might take a sentence in other languages, but it shouldn’t be that different … That being said, poetry is definitely a big part where that can pull apart because there’s a lot of elements to poetry, and they’ll differ from language to language, particularly phonological elements …”

Question 2: Chinese poetry involves strict restrictions on rhymes and tones, which makes translating a lot more challenging. Tell me something about rhyming and how it works in translation.

“… The first half is that people of different cultural backgrounds do not have the same connections between artistic works and rhyming. On the other hand, there is the linguistic internal reason: words or syllables can only end with a very, very small set of sounds; you can’t end a syllable with a “te” in Chinese or Japanese; you can’t end a syllable with a “se” in Chinese or Japnese. It’s only about a third of the sounds that you can start a syllable with you can end a syllable with, in Chinese or Japanese. In English, you have more parity: you can basically start with anything and end with anything. Because of that, it’s harder to rhyme in the West because we have, say, 30 different ways to end a word, whereas in Japanese, we only have, say, 12. So, in the case of Chinese or Japanese, stuff just rhymes a lot more. It’s just not that interesting or impressive thing to do from an artistic standpoint to rhyme because it’s just so much statistically more likely… Sometimes, interpreters find a similar wordplay like alliteration to reach the same effect of lingual symmetry between lines in substitution.”

Question 3: The concepts of “信,达,雅” (faithfulness, expressiveness, and elegance) are very important in the field of translation. How should we balance the dynamics of these three?

In most cases, there’s no perfect translation, and some sacrifices need to be made to balance in between. An example is a game called Banjo Kazooie, which, unlike most Nintendo games, was first developed in English by a British studio and then translated into many other languages. There is a character called Gruntilda, who speaks excessively rhymes. That was partly done because it was funny, but partly done because it reminds the speaker of the West of dramatic fairy tales. This fails in two accounts when translated to Japanese; on one account, as discussed before, rhyming is not as interesting in Eastern languages; on another account, the cultural connections can not be linked. In this case, the faithfulness of the exact words Gruntilda says might not be as important, which serves as a portrait of the character: it is more important that a beloved video game character talks expressively. However, in the case of legal contracts or serious academic research, elegance should give light to faithfulness. Another example is the Bible and the people and missionaries were trying to translate and get other people to understand; on one end, they wanted them to see what they saw as beauty in the Bible and the artistry; on the other end, they wanted them to understand the literal rules in the book and to follow them in a literal way.

“Although you’ve smashed my mecha-suit, don’t think you’ve given me the boot. Now I’ve trapped you on my tower. I’ll crush you with my ghostly power!”

Part 2: Push and Knock (Excerpt)

Interviewee: Poet, lyric writer, translator / Best friend

Me: There’s nothing more frustrating. You, of all people, should understand me. We have a profound love for the beauty of the text, astonished and nurtured by the greatest work of literature. However, this joy and love turn into a great sense of helplessness because you fail the job of sharing these fervent, graceful, sorrowful, or intriguing texts with other readers who cannot directly access this piece simply because they don’t speak the language. It is in our nature to share, and it makes me feel disheartened to know that one of the greatest treasures of humanity, literature, cannot be shared.

Eric: Indeed, the frustration. Just as I know we are doing this interview in Chinese, and you will be translating our conversation into English. I will talk with small words and have English sentences in mind to save you from the pain.

Me: Tell me something about your recent work. What’s rewarding? What’s challenging?

Eric: Lately, I’ve been translating some Chinese lyrics for artists who want to put their works on English platforms. I am fortunate that an album that I am working on is very literal, which makes the process a lot easier, and some of the pieces are, luckily, poetic and beautiful in both languages. However, a problem with highly literal texts is that it does not give the translators any freedom but to translate literally, so it’s really a job of diction the correct words to express the images in original texts. The fact that the Chinese language is so cultural that every character has so many underlying meanings and so many poetic works to allude to makes it very hard for me to “推敲.”

Me: It’s very interesting that you used the phrase “推敲.” If you think about it, that phrase is the perfect embodiment of the subject matter. You cannot translate that literally. How would you translate that?

Eric: Yeah, exactly. This is a hard one. I would probably go with “diction”. That’s all I’ve got. However, “推敲” would make no literal sense in the sentence: “推” means “push,” and “敲” means “knock,” but when we say “推敲” we don’t mean push or knock, we use it metaphorically to describe the process of carefully polishing one’s writing or work. This refers to an anecdote about Jia Dao (779–843). He was riding a donkey along a busy street, debating with himself whether to use the word “knock” or “push” in a poem, when he almost blundered into the high official Han Yu (who happened to be one of the Great Eight Scholars of Tang and Song Dynasty). Instead of being angry, Han Yu asked Jia Dao what he was thinking about and helped analyze the poem, eventually leading to the two’s friendship. The words TUI and QIAO (“knock” and “push”) were later combined into the phrase TUIQIAO(推敲), meaning to weigh and choose one’s words carefully.

鸟宿池边树,僧推(敲)月下门

A bird rests on the tree by the pond,

A monk pushes (knocks) the door under the moon

(excerpt from the original piece)

Me: Poets can be that particular about choosing the correct word: “pushing the door” and “knocking the door” can be very different. The poem is about the writer (Jia Dao) visiting his friend’s (Li Yu) yard at late night. “Knocking” would have broken the quiet atmosphere and woken the resting birds and people, but “pushing” a door without knocking might be a little impolite…

Eric: If that much of “推敲” is needed to create original work, think about how subtle it is to translate someone else’s work. Obviously, you have to maintain a certain degree of faithfulness, but not capturing the essence and beauty of the original piece is another defilement of the original piece. Not to mention there are so many phrases like “push knock” for me to “push knock.”

Part 3: Flavor of Text

Interviewee: Ph.D. in Chinese Literature, High school Chinese teacher, contributor to China’s most used high school Chinese textbook.

Question 1: I remember you teaching me the concepts of the three translation principles of “elegance,” “expressiveness,” and “elegance.” How do these principles apply when we are not translating ancient Chinese but between modern languages?

“I do not know too much about foreign literature and translations; as you know, I barely speak English. However, I know how challenging it is to translate ancient Chinese into modern Chinese and how much of the artist’s charm is lost during translation, and that’s within the same language. I can imagine reaching the level of expressiveness and elegance in a different language being a nearly impossible task.”

Question 2: What do you think of the dynamics between the original writer, the translator, and the reader?

“The relationship between a reader and a writer is an intimate one. The interplay between an original writer, a translator, and the reader shapes the journey of a literary work across cultures. The writer’s original context imbues the work with specific cultural and linguistic nuances, setting the stage for its reception. The translator, then, acts as a critical bridge, tasked with adapting these nuances for a new audience while striving to maintain the essence of the original. This requires not just linguistic precision but a deep cultural empathy to navigate the subtleties of both languages. The reader completes this triad, bringing their own interpretations and cultural expectations to the translated work, thereby influencing its final reception.”

Question 3: What is a way to improve the quality of translation?

“I would say read more and read consciously. Read not only to absorb the content but to be aware of the text. Dive into reading and do it with intent. When you’re going through a book, article, or even a social media post, try not just to gulp down the information. Instead, chew on the words a bit. Notice how sentences are structured, how the author plays with language, and the rhythm of the text. It’s like listening to music and picking out each instrument’s role in the song. This practice will not only enrich your understanding of the content but also subtly enhance your language skills. You’ll start spotting patterns, picking up new words and phrases, and understanding their nuances. It’s a bit like learning to cook by tasting dishes attentively. You begin to recognize ingredients and seasonings, which then inform how you cook your own meals. So, read widely and pay attention to the linguistic flavors.”

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