Regular visitors to Dead Guy Towers will know that I read and rave a lot about European crime fiction. Small indie publishers like Bitter Lemon Press and Arcadia have done us a huge favour by bringing the best French, German, Italian, Dutch and Spanish writers to our attention. And now most of the large UK houses have a respectable roster of Scandinavian writers. And thereby hangs a small problem for reviewers . . .
If you haven’t read the book in the original language, how do you tell if the translation is any good? I can manage books in French at a fairly sedate pace (and my admiration for the team who translate the excellent but idiosyncratic Dominique Manotti knows no bounds), but my one year of Old Icelandic at university isn’t what you’d call useful for reading the likes of Arnaldur Indridason and Yrsa Sigurdardóttir in the original.
At first, when I reviewed, translated books, I carefully never mentioned the translator. It was only when I’d been the recipient of some electronic hard stares by Yvonne Klein, my co-conspirator over at RTE, and a translator herself, did I finally click what a humungous role they play.
I read a very intriguing feature a year or so back in Crime Time where a group of translators were interviewed about their work. And very revealing it was as well. I should warn you that it’s a bit of a plod, as they’ve put each question to each of the translators. But stick with it …
Apparently one of the biggest menaces are authors who know just enough English to quibble over the use of slang – a French writer was adamant that flic should be translated as bobby! And the translators are divided on how much contact they want with the writer, but the consensus appears to be that having someone willing to answer questions is essential. They’re not always complimentary about reviewers, although Laurie Thompson takes it as praise if the translator isn’t mentioned!
A comment from Ian Monk particularly caught my eye: “I think I am well placed to translate crime work because you need to have learnt the language in the country. As I often say, I learnt my French in books and bars, so this means I have a better grasp of slang and real spoken French than University professors in the UK!”
As a reviewer, one of the things I’ve learned to look for in translated novels is up-to-date slang. One or two (no names, no pack drill) appear to have been rendered by someone who now lives up a mountain and last visited the UK in 1955! And yes, I do take Adriana Hunter’s point in the interview that sometimes the idiom depends on the age of the character and the situation. But I’m talking about younger, streetwise characters who have been given clunky, dated slang to spout.
In the end, about all a reviewer can do is acknowledge the work the translator has done and to keep an eye out for uneven text. We’re helped where more than one translator has worked on a series, such as with Henning Mankell. That way you can start to develop a feel for what’s the author’s own voice and what’s the translator’s head popping over the parapet.
