The view from the bridge .......
It all looked pretty simple when I was sipping pastis in the Lozère and watching a super-bloggeuse showing me how it's done. Not quite so clear when she isn't there populating the site like a demented cybergene. I couldn't find the fancy templates she showed me, but I thought I'd make a start anyway by posting a review of Anthony Pym's study which I wrote a few weeks ago. I think it's one of the best things around. The Clifton Suspension bridge seemed to a good image to start with - translation after all is traditionally conceptualised as a way of communicating across gaps and I've lost count of the number of times I've read about 'transferre' and bringing across. Anthony Pym makes us re-examine the ways we conceptualise bridges in this study. Not a beginner's guide exactly but a cure for indigestion caused by chomping one's way through too many translation theories in too short a time.
Anthony Pym, Exploring Translation Theories (Abingdon
and New York: Routledge, 2010)
Work on translation theory has evolved over the last decades
and different approaches have multiplied.
There are many excellent synoptic introductions to the field and
anthologies of key writings, but readers are frequently left confused. Different theoretical frameworks seem to set
forth contradictory or competing models. Universalising narratives conflict. Claims and counter-claims baffle and bewilder.
Jargon abounds, all too often distancing
theory from practice and alienating translators, students and tutors alike. Pym’s readers,
as he tells us in the penultimate page of the volume, are ‘those who [are]
going to do something with translation theory’.
How can these readers pick their way through this labyrinth and find a
way to make theories work for them in practice?
Like Ariadne’s thread, Exploring
Translation Theories helps us emerge triumphantly from the maze.
Anthony Pym’s valuable
monograph takes as a starting point the need for his readers to move
comfortably between different theoretical models, or paradigms, as Pym prefers
to call them. He begins in a down-to-earth way by demystifying
the term ‘theory’ itself. All
translators, he says, theorise. It
comes with the territory. Theorising is
a critical interrogation of what we are doing when we translate. Invoking
a now obsolete but enlightening definition of theory as ‘a view’ or a ‘contemplation’,
Pym suggests that all translators engage
with theory each time they ponder the choices they make and the reasons for
preferring one solution over another. In
other words, translators conceptualise what they are doing whether consciously
or not. By beginning in this way and stressing
the act of theorising rather than the exposition of competing sets of rules or principles,
Pym is able to get across the fact that theory can be dynamic rather than
static, enabling rather than constraining, supple rather than rigid. It is, or
can be, a practical instrument in the translator’s tool-kit. In each
of the following 7 chapters, Pym reinforces this practical message by including
debating points, highlighting tensions and suggesting exploratory
activities. He encourages a dialogic
approach to theory, allowing theories to ricochet and interact between and
across the paradigms he identifies. This
is a welcome change from the discourses of conflict and contradiction, which so
often characterise theoretical writings.
We are constantly reminded that
we are free to choose our own vantage point from which we can contemplate the translation
landscape we see before us.
Pym identifies 6 translation paradigms which, in line with
Kuhn, he defines as sets of principles underlying different groups of theories.
These paradigms are: equivalence; purposes; descriptions; uncertainty;
localisation; cultural translation. He
deals with these in broadly chronological order but stresses that earlier
paradigms do not cease to matter just because others have entered the
arena. His pluralistic approach is one
of the most distinctive features of the book, since it encourages readers to engage
actively with translation theory and construct for themselves a theoretical
framework which supports their individual practice.
The value of this structured eclecticism is particularly
clear in the long section on equivalence, Pym’s first paradigm, which he
subdivided into two parts, natural and directional equivalence. He recognises that any concept of
pre-existing, natural equivalence between language systems is essentialist and intellectually
untenable, but argues persuasively that equivalence cannot on that account be
dismissed as an outdated or simplistic concept. In one
way or another, the notion of equivalence underpins dominant Western modes of
theorising translation and affects all of us who operate within that historical
tradition. He freely admits that for him, as for so many of the rest of us,
equivalence is social illusion but a necessary one. We believe in it and find it useful, even if
we know that our belief is not grounded in fact or certainty. We use terms, such as ‘source’ and ‘target’, which presuppose movement from the one to the
other and suggest that there is a potentially a unidirectional relationship of supposedly
‘equal value’ which can exist between source and target text. There is no reciprocal expectation that the
source text should be ‘equivalent’ to or representative of the target text. This conceptual
model of directional equivalence dominates much of our thinking. In the first place, it puts the source text
in pole position, while leaving the translator free to choose the kind of
relationship which is deemed equivalent. Secondly, the duality which is implicit in the
moving from one side of a linguistic and cultural divide to another is reflected
in other binary opposites which we have for centuries used to describe
translation strategies (word-for-word or sense-for-sense, literal or free,
semantic or communicative, overt or covert , domesticated or foreignised). These
polarities may not correspond to the reality of translation but the concept of
moving from one defined linguistic and cultural space to another is firmly
rooted and explains why in practice so many translators can relate so readily
to the equivalence paradigm and why, as Pym contends, so many later paradigms
respond to it in one way or another.
By taking this inclusive approach, Pym is able to stress
continuities and compatibilities rather than conflicts and contradictions when
he moves on to his second paradigm which he terms the purposes paradigm. Functionalist theories of translation widen
the angle of the analytical lens to include the context of the translation and the
independent life of the target text.
They dethrone narrowly linguistic theoretical models and hegemonic
discourses of literary translation. The translator
is joined by clients, project managers, translation companies and all the other
actors and agencies involved in the translation industry. This may be a much comprehensive account than
is offered by the equivalence paradigm but
that is no reason, Pym suggests, for throwing the baby out with the bathwater. We do not have to ally ourselves with one
paradigm or another. We can select and make our own choices. Battle-lines,
he reminds us sceptically, are in any case liable to be a consequence of
institutional rivalry.
Moving on to the descriptive paradigm, Pym again encourages
a pick-and-mix approach. This seems a sensible suggestion, given that we have to navigate the swirling
waters created by a ‘loose flotilla’ of innovative scholars. He highlights the usefulness of models which
keep prescriptive and dirigiste
diktats at arm’s length, even if claims to scientific objectivity are at best
unpersuasive and at worst self-referentially inconsistent. Descriptive approaches allow us to think
about translation, past and present, in a detailed, empirical way. If they do not reveal universals, they can nonetheless
deepen our understanding and encourage us to reflect critically on the myriad
complexities of the work we do.
One of Pym’s greatest
strengths as a writer and theorist is his ability to make sense of the most
complex philosophical debates about translation in relation to the construction
of meaning. His skill is never more
apparent than in his treatment of the uncertainty paradigm. Here again, he is able to forge links to
other paradigms even if we accept that theories positing the instability of
meaning detonate a depth charge under the concept of equivalence. If
human communication is indeterminate, and meaning is not fixed, how can a
translator ‘carry across’ or transfer a
message from a source to target language as if it were a piece of merchandise
to which a value could be attached? Any act
of communication necessarily implies transformation. One
might go further and claim that any communicative act is an act of translation,
since it involves change and movement.
What are we to make of that and where does it leave the translator? Common sense tells us that translation
happens and we do, in practice, treat it is an act of communication across
fixed boundaries. Translators get paid
to do it and they are judged on the quality of what they produce, which is,
more often than not, described in the language of equivalence. Does not a theory based around the
impossibility of determining and transmitting meaning deny the possibility of
translation altogether? As an answer to
that question, Pym points us to the sciences, where practitioners have also had
to come to terms with uncertainty. Communication across distinct language
communities is possible and it is mediated
by translators. That said, the more we
understand that borders and boundaries are permeable and accept that
translation must be accommodated within the uncertainties of human
communication, the more we shall be able to make sense of the job.
Pym’s two final paradigms, localisation and cultural
translation also deal in uncertainty, though in different ways. Both point
toward a future where national and linguistic borders disintegrate. In the
digitised world of global communication, traditional concepts of linear translation
give way to artificially decontextualised or ‘internationalised’ passages of
text which allow translation to take place simultaneously into multiple
languages, a ‘one-to-many’ pattern of translation. Paradoxically, the process of ‘internationalisation’,
which strips away cultural and linguistic specifities, fixes language and permits
(albeit artificially) direct and predictable equivalence. Translators work syntagmatically in
conjunction with machines, standardising terminology and creating glossaries. Deep asymmetries between languages emerge in
this process since translation moves from the language of the central
‘internationalised ’ language to
peripheral languages. The further the languages are from the centre the less
complete the process of cultural relocation. In other words localisation reconfigures relationships
between cultures, changes the way in which we conceptualise translation and
creates new ethical and political dilemmas.
We can only guess where this ongoing process of change will take us.
Similarly open questions abound in Pym’s treatment of
cultural translation, his final paradigm.
If localisation stabilises the unstable, Pym’s cultural translation
leads us in the opposite direction though into an equally unpredictable future.
Cultural translation uncouples
translation from the concept of finite text production and clearly defined
movement of text objects across linguistic and cultural frontiers. Migrant
populations create hybrid cultural and linguistic groups as they are
‘translated’ geographically from and culturally from one place to another. Translators inhabit vast and complex
inter-cultural spaces where borders and boundaries are imprecise and fluid. It is a dizzying and in some ways intimidating
prospect and opens the way to a definition of translation so broad that it is
in danger of becoming a loose metaphor for any form of cultural and linguistic
interaction. At the same time, the
possibilities of cultural translation can offer a means to explore the new and
rapidly changing globalised contexts within which translators operate.
Pym concludes his exciting volume with a short invitation to
his readers. He positions himself as a
translator explaining that he is independent of any single paradigm. He then suggests that we follow suit and
write our own theory. If we are going
to find this useful, he advises, we should start with a question. What is it we want to know and where can we find
an answer? In other words, Pym’s book is all about theory in action. How can we best engage critically with our
practice and where can we find ideas and information which might help us?
Pym undoubtedly has a gift for exposition, but this volume
is much more than just another account of translation theories. It is
full of succinct, evaluative summaries, enabling readers to weigh up the
strengths and weaknesses of different theories and to find answers to questions
that puzzle them. There are end-of-chapter suggestions for ways in which
theoretical models can be applied to practice and there is excellent supporting
material on the web. It is Pym’s
no-nonsense focus on theory as a means of developing reflective practitioners
that makes this volume work unique and justifies a new and revised
edition. The way we theorise translation
is an ongoing process. Global
communication networks are obliging us to reconceptualise and redefine
translation at every turn. This volume may
be relatively recent but a new edition will certainly be a welcome addition to
translation theory when it appears.
Adrienne Mason
University of Bristol
