a culture of language and thought

When I’m in the middle of translating a book, every cell of my brain is completely consumed by it. It’s hard for me to focus on anything else because I’m so immersed in the story, the characters, the words, the feeling… I choose each word with incredible care and approach each translation problem with pages of notes, setting out my options, keeping track of the research I’ve done, weighing out the respective benefits of each possible choice that could be made, and eventually my reason for deciding to translate something in a particular way.

When I’m finished the entire translation, it usually takes days or weeks to really get my head back into other things. Slowly, all of the words and ideas from the book settle into a deeper layer in my brain. I feel as if they’ll always be there, though, not far away, ready to pull out whenever I need them. I’m finding that’s not the case, though…

My translation Turing’s Delirium, by Edmundo Paz Soldán, came out in 2006. Like most books I’ve translated, once the initial excitement of having the physical book in my hands had worn off, I set it proudly on the bookshelf in my living room and eventually turned to other projects. I never pick up the books I’ve translated - the desire to change just this little word here or that little phrase there is too much. There’s always something I think I could improve but once a book is in print, that’s no longer an option. I therefore find it best just to leave the book be and satisfy myself with gazing proudly at the spine, knowing I brought it to life in another language.

This year, however, Professor Paulo Horta at Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, Canada, has asked me to dredge up some of my memories about this particular translation and the translation process. He’s teaching a course on world literature and using Turing’s Delirium as one of the books. His students have now read it and passed on questions to both the author, Edmundo, and I. I’m thrilled to be included in this. Paulo is really making a point of examining the book “in translation” and he’s acknowledging my contribution by involving me in the discussion.

In this particular case, the book is very different in Spanish and in English: chapters were added, character motivations changed, aspects of characters modified. I was resistant to the changes at first but because Edmundo was fine with them, I slowly grew to accept the majority of them as well. (There are still a few I regret, though!)

In any event, Paulo’s students have asked some insightful questions and I would like to give equally insightful answers, but I’m finding that what I did or why I did what I did in the translation isn’t so easily accessible in what is evidently a much deeper layer in my brain than I’d thought. It seems the book I just finished in December is sitting on top of those memories, much more fresh in my mind. And the book I started working on a week ago is already taking up the majority of my thought and processing power.

Uh oh. I’d better go look for my notebook for Turing’s Delirium; looks like I’m going to need it…

I’ve been thinking about the concept of balance for quite a while now - and I do mean “concept” because it’s something I understand but is still somewhat ethereal, something I’ve never quite mastered. When I look back on my working life I’ve always juggled several things at once. The reasons for doing this have usually been different; I’m either working hard to save up for something (usually travel), or am forced to do so just to make ends meet, or because it’s simply the nature of the sort of work I do.

When I was younger, I worked at a law firm and also taught English, literacy and/or Spanish classes at the same time. At one point I even worked in a pet supply store on the weekends too! In Peru I owned a restaurant for a while, where I did the shopping at the market each day, cleaned the restaurant and bathroom, helped with food preparation, waited tables, and kept the books. I also taught at an English language academy, gave private classes, and did as many translations as came my way. A few years later, I owned a bar/café while working as a full-time, in-house translator, and took translations on the side. (Here again, owning that business meant taking part in every aspect of it: creating the atmosphere, buying supplies, doing the banking, bartending, serving customers until the wee hours of the morning, etc. etc., along with my business partner Lynda, a fellow Canadian and friend).

Last year, I had all the duties of running my own freelance business plus the actual work that I do in that business! Because the nature of freelance work is often feast or famine, when there’s a feast you simply dig in and take everything you’re offered, storing up for those times when famine arrives. I also have a hard time saying “no” to my favorite clients. They’re favorites for a reason: I  like the work I’m given, we’ve developed a good relationship, their deadlines are reasonable, pay is decent, and there’s a sense of reciprocal loyalty.

As well, part of being a successful freelancer is not to put all your eggs in one basket: you need to have as many clients as you can reasonably handle so that if one should take their business away for any reason, you won’t be left in the lurch.

Juggling all of this, however, can mean that you’re working seven days a week and up to sixteen hours a day. I love my work and identify with what I do, but it’s no way to LIVE for a prolonged period of time. Friendships and outside activities start to fall away and then when the famine, or even just a lean diet, comes along, I’m left floundering. I don’t know what to do without my work. For the moment I’m trying to enjoy my reduced calorie intake and keep in mind how good it feels not to be overwhelmed by the pressures of multiple deadlines, the stress of knowing I need to do my absolute best on each one to keep my clients happy and my pride in what I do. When the eventual glut begins, I’m going to need to take a breath, remember the concept of balance and find a way to pick and choose.

It’s January, so everyone’s talking about resolutions. My partner, Jon, and a group he belongs to chose to call them intentions and I kind of prefer this… Resolutions sound so, well, resolute and that approach doesn’t always work for me. When I inevitably fail to stick with one or more of the many “resolutions” I set for myself, I only feel bad and tend to wonder why I should bother trying to stick with the rest! So “intentions” it is…

Now that I’ve dissected the semantics of it, I suppose you’d like to hear some of my intentions. Well, that’s another thing I dislike… Once you speak them out loud to the world, you’re committed to following through. I’ve committed to writing this blog out loud on more than one occasion, and look what happened there! Six months went by without a single post. So rather than jinx my intentions, just stay tuned and I hope you’ll be pleased to see regular posts.

This year has started out with a much-deserved and appreciated reprieve from being overloaded with work. I’ve thus taken the time to update my site a little and write this post. On the top of the lefthand sidebar you’ll see a place where you can click to receive an RSS feed of this blog. That way, rather than having to check in every once in a while, you’ll be notified whenever a new post or comment is posted (two separate RSS, you can choose). I hope you’ll sign up!