As summer approaches, and several of us anticipate finishing the MFA program, there are a lot of unknowns, and so I was, perhaps, most struck by Michael Cooperson’s ability to admit, accept, and even thrive on not knowing. He admitted openly that he could not have translated such a text without the internet or without the help of many colleagues and friends. He talked about reaching out to people who spoke different dialects for their help, support, and knowledge. He acknowledged how some of his colleagues would have produced different, perhaps even better, translations. He told us that he no longer feels inclined to translate from Arabic anymore, although he might change his mind later. When Professor Litvin asked him why he did not render an imposture in “Arabeezi” he ultimately said that he didn’t really know why. When asked with which authors or dialects he was familiar before he started the project, he told us that he hadn’t known any of them that well.
I think “not knowing” is central to translation, and perhaps we don’t talk about it enough. Time and time again we come up against words, authors, styles that we don’t know or haven’t heard before. We think of not knowing as a constraint. But Cooperson’s talk was a good reminder that it’s okay not to know. It’s anything but a constraint; it’s an opportunity to take the time to learn, to ask, and to ultimately give it a try.
Relationships between translator and author similarly seem to pivot on this notion of “not knowing.” Vanderschelden explains how “translation collaboration can sometimes shift the decision process from translator to author” (26). In other words, when a translator is unsure about something and asks the author, the translator can simply avoid this “not knowing” process which, as Cooperson demonstrated, can be central to thoughtful, analytical, creative translation. Moreover, while “not knowing” often enables translation to proliferate discourses and allow for many different interpretations of a given text, Vanderschelden explains that “collaboration of the author with the translator can be perceived as a way of controlling the proliferation of meaning” (26). This proliferation of meaning is perhaps one of the most profound and beautiful aspects of translation.
That being said, I think this question of collaboration between an author and translator may also depend on the languages and cultures in question. For example, given the power dynamics that exist between Arabic and English, I believe it is important for translators from Arabic—especially American English speakers like me—to communicate with the author when possible and, at the very least, make sure that the author has given their approval on any liberties taken in the translation and the overall translation produced. English/American culture has already cherry-picked and distorted so much from Arabic that this seems like a basic act of respect for the author, their work, and the Arabic language. If they do not want something represented or translated in a certain way, I should, at the very least, ask, understand, and respect why. Their name will be attached to the translation too, after all.
-sharon
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