“Translation means doing violence upon the original,” said a character in Babel, Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution by R.F. Kuang. As I began my translations, I had this quote from a favorite novel in the back of my mind. Perhaps this is true. Even in translating similar Latin-based scripts like English to Spanish, there was always a choice to be made. Do I use the direct translation of a word at the loss of the original author’s intended alphabetical glossary? Do I repeat the same pronoun at the beginning of each sentence when the sentences flow better in Spanish without them? Translation is a violent act in its destruction of the original. But this destruction necessitates reconstructing the pieces—a reconstruction that may come at the price of losing something in the hopes that something might also be gained. My deliberate and purposeful approach to the texts I translated stemmed from my nuanced interpretation of this quote.
My intentionality shines through in the works I choose to translate into Spanish, which included: “Glossary for a Miscarriage,” “The Politics of Metamorphosis,” and “Left a Refugee Here in a Sterile Country.” In this selection, a unifying theme emerges—motherhood. The profound experiences of fear, loss, pain, and love depicted in these works surpass linguistic barriers. My motivation to translate them into Spanish is deeply rooted in the significance that motherhood holds within traditional Hispanic households. Of particular significance is my decision to translate “Left a Refugee Here in a Sterile Country." Many migrants entering the U.S. from the southern border speak Spanish and may share similar refugee experiences as portrayed by the author Sandy Longhorn. These texts delve into the more taboo aspects of motherhood, shedding light on elements that warrant greater attention. My aim is to empower mothers who read these translated texts, offering them a connection to narratives that resonate with their own lived experiences.
My process for translating poetry reflected my understanding of the inherent violence of translation. Each line and stanza matters in a poem like “Left a Refugee Here in a Sterile Country.” I grappled with my desire to preserve the original verses and to ensure the poem flowed like the original. I did not want to lose the poetic aspects in favor of a direct translation. I recognized that the essence of the poem lay not just in its narrative content but also in its poetic rhythm and nuanced language. To navigate this challenge, I adopted a meticulous approach, creating two first drafts of my translation—one where I translated line-by-line and another where I translated the poem as if it were prose. By carefully comparing and merging these drafts, I aimed to craft a unified poem that retained the story elements while preserving the intended cadence and poetic beauty of the original work.
My attempt to preserve the original line breaks while maintaining the poem’s cohesion is seen in lines 15-16. Longhorn writes: “... or kept the stray / dogs at bay with a stick.” A translation written in prose would be: “... o guardó a los perros extraviados acorralados con un palo.” However, to preserve the integrity of the verses, I translated these lines as: “... o guardó los extraviados / perros acorralados con un palo.” The change, though subtle, is seen in the placement of the adjective “extraviados” (meaning stray) before the noun “perros” (meaning dogs). In Spanish, unlike English, adjectives are traditionally placed after the noun. However, changing the placement of the noun and adjective disrupted the original poem's line break and end word. I wanted to preserve the emphasis on the word “stray” invoked in the English version of the poem, an emphasis that accentuates the speaker’s own strayness following her abandonment in the hospital. This led me to my stylistic choice to place the adjective ahead of the noun in my translation, a choice I found that is often invoked in poetic contexts such as this.
Another stylistic choice I made that attempts to preserve the significance of word choice and placement while ensuring the Spanish translation flows naturally is found in my translation of “The Politics of Metamorphosis” by Katie Farris. In the last few sentences of the third paragraph and the beginning of the fourth, Farris repeats the word “she” at the start of each sentence. The pronouns are necessary in English but not so much in Spanish. Instead, the repeated use of them at the beginning of the sentence can make the reading stilted. In my translation, I made the choice to include the pronoun “ella” in the sentences in the third paragraph. The verbiage of the original work in this paragraph gave agency to the girl the story revolves around while also emphasizing her youth and femininity. However, I decided to sacrifice the repeated pronoun in the fourth paragraph because it did not carry the same meaning as it did in the third paragraph and brought a smoother transition from sentence to sentence. This carries the reader to the end and mimics the girl’s own fast-moving panic as she runs.
I found that my understanding of the quote from Babel changed as I translated these texts. Translation is the compromise between destruction and reconstruction to create something beautiful that can be understood across languages. Translation is about bridging cultural and linguistic gaps. I have learned that the violence done through translation is used to rebuild and connect, not to destroy. In these works, the act of translation becomes a powerful tool, fostering understanding and empathy across diverse experiences, especially within the intricate tapestry of motherhood.
About the Translator
Isabel Haas is a Barrett senior double majoring in Global Studies and Applied Mathematics for the Life and Social Sciences with a minor in Spanish Language Studies. She is translating into Spanish.