not sure what to think of this . . . I think Riky’s right—this shift in writing has made it easy to publish German literature in translation, but taken to the extreme, the idea of abandoning a particular literary tradition for a style of writing that’s more accessible to the global marketplace is kind of disturbing. (I don’t think that is happening in the authors cited—Daniel Kehlmann, Julie Zeh, Jenny Erpenbeck, and Ingo Schulze—but I could see that thought process taking hold among writers all over the world who really want to become international best-sellers. And to my elitist tastes, that’s sort of sad.)
Like with Argentina, historically, some of the greatest literary figures have been both authors and translators. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Johann Gottfired Herder, and Rainer Maria Rilke, to name a few. And just like most other countries, translators are underappreciated and underpaid:
The average literary translator does not earn enough money to make a living. They hardly make more than 15 to 20 euros per page gross with an average of 100 pages translated per month. Former German President Roman Herzog confirmed this in a speech once: “That someone with one of the most important jobs in today’s cultural life cannot generally make a living is fundamentally outrageous.”
I’m sure the U.S. administration will be making a similar statement any day now . . .
Case Studies – China
The case study on China contains the most disturbing translation statistic I’ve ever come across:
According to the official statistics, China produced about 110,000 new titles in 2003, and 112,857 in 2005. Among the new titles for 2003 there were 10,000 new literary creations and 10,842 for 2005. But the number of those new titles that have been translated into other languages, as far as can be told from an extensive Internet search, was less than 100 in 2003, and almost the same in 2005, though these were mostly literary works. This means about 0.01% of Chinese books are being translated into other languages . . .
[Note: Using the figures of 100 translated titles out of 112,000 This actually comes out to 0.09%.]
And just to clarify and reemphasize, that’s less than 100 titles translated into all other languages combined.
For a country with the largest population in the world, these statistics are shocking:
The official Chinese Writers Association reported 6,128 members in 2005. But less than 300 of those writers have ever had their work translated into any other language—that is, less than 5%.
(This may well be the first country profiled in which it’s not just America and Britain that look like cultural ignorant jerks—in this case, the whole world is ignoring Chinese lit.)
Of course, there are political issues involved in the Chinese situation. As Chen Maiping, writer and translator and founding member of the Independent Chinese PEN Center (ICPC) states in this article, there are thousands of other writers who are not members of the official Association, and who don’t have an opportunity to publish their works in China. I may be wrong, but these are the authors that would probably most appeal to independent and university publishers in the U.S.—the two groups that publish the lion’s share of literature in translation.
Nobel Prize winner Gao Xingjian—who has lived in exile since 1987—is a member of the ICPC, and is still forbidden from publishing in China. Not sure about Yan Lianke, whose Serve the People! is a Reading the World 2008 title, but based on the blurb on the back from the Chinese Central Propaganda Bureau—”This novel slanders Mao Zedong, the army, and is overflowing with sex . . . Do not distribute, pass around, comment on, excerpt from it, or report on it”—I’m guessing he’s a bit of an outsider as well.
As if there weren’t enough obstacles already to getting a country’s literature translated into other languages, the political situation in China adds an additional layer of difficulty. Unlike the other case studies, nowhere in this article is funding for translations mentioned, although there is a comment about translation into Chinese that doesn’t bode well:
In Chinese cultural history, literature traditionally serves political purposes and so does literary translation. [. . .] The Chinese government has also sponsored translation of the kind of Chinese literature that suits their political propaganda.
In terms of translation into Chinese, Maiping claims that international literature has always been more popular in China than Chinese literature, leading to a situation nowadays in which a lot of books are translated because they are best sellers, rather than for their literary value. This has had an impact on the quality and interest in translation, with the prestige associated with being a literary translator on the decline despite the fact that China was one of the first countries to publish translations of books like The Da Vinci Code and Harry Potter.
Overall, this is a complicated situation, and I’m really looking forward to seeing what happens when China is the guest of honor at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2009. From an editorial perspective, it’s always been difficult trying to get information about Chinese authors worth looking into. And even if you do identify someone, the rights situation seems very messy . . . I rely on Paper Republic for general info, and in my opinion, Columbia University Press and its Weatherhead Books on Asia series is one of the best sources for Chinese literature (and lit from other Asian countries as well).
Despite everything above, Maiping is pretty optimistic, and ends his piece with an interesting look toward the future:
Literary translation itself follows the social development and people’s needs. It is also important to keep a diversity of cultures. Diversity means that we should let different values flow freely between areas in the coordination I describe above. With international support, we should try to break the barrier between them, no matter if these barriers are natural (from language perspectives) or artificial (political reasons). Internet will help to overcome the barriers.
Case Studies – France
This case study was written by Anne-Sophie Simenel when she was Program Director for the Cultural Services of the French Embassy in New York.
Before getting into specifics of the case study, I think it’s worthwhile pointing out some of the oddities of the French Cultural Services system. Unlike the German Book Office, appointments at the FCS are for a limited term. Anne-Sophie—one of the best books people the FCS has ever had—was, like her predecessors, limited to a two-year term, which is nonrenewable. So by the time she really figured out what she was doing and how U.S. publishing worked, it was time for her to leave. During her stint there, she worked a lot with Fabrice Rozie, who is one of the most energetic, intelligent, interesting people I’ve ever worked with, and who managed to advance a number of the innovative ideas discussed below. Of course, he’s moved on now as well.
From what I’ve heard, Fabrice’s and Anne-Sophie’s replacements are doing an admirable job and picking up right where Fabrice and Anne-Sophie left off. In fact, I’m sure they’re both wonderful and will do a great job in their positions.
My point isn’t to criticize them or long for the golden days of years past, but in relation to getting French books translated into English, this enforced turnover of key staff is a special obstacle that the French face that hasn’t popped up in any of the other case studies I’ve written about.
This case study starts off looking at the scene in France:
For some time now the French and foreign literature sections have been sitting side by side on the shelves of French bookshops in almost equal proportion. They reveal a diversity and an eclecticism that show, year after year, the opening of the French publishing scene to the world.
Of
