On L2 (“non-native”) translation

(originally published by The Linguist magazine, issue 56, 1, February/March 2017)

There are many names attached to the practice this article discusses: L2, non-native, bilingual or inverted translation. They all describe translation out of one’s ‘native’ language into a ‘non-native’ one. The terminology is still in flux, and as my inverted commas suggest, even the most basic terms defining the practice are disputable. I will use ‘bilingual translation’, although this term is not without its problems.

Bilingual translation has not been extensively researched and, maybe partly for this reason, it provokes a frisson of disapproval, at least in the literary translation community, which is my background. Nonetheless, it is widely practised, especially from ‘smaller’ languages, as the limited number of native English speakers able to translate from them encourages others to act as ambassadors of the literature.

I became interested in bilingual translation when I moved to London after working for a few years as a literary translator into Polish, my native language. Four years ago, I attended the London Book Fair’s Literary Translation Centre for the first time. During a discussion following one of the events, a German audience member mentioned that she wanted to translate into English. Someone sitting next to me whispered, “But why would you want to do that?”. This was the first of many instances I witnessed of bilingual translation being treated as whimsical at best, and gross incompetence at worst.

This bias has demonstrable consequences: bilingual translators I have spoken to report being denied work on the basis of their nativity status or nationality (although one said a publisher changed their mind after reading a sample of her work), and seeing translation grants advertised that only invite applications from ‘native-speaker translators’.

Disapproval of bilingual translation seems to stem from a belief that, if a translator comes to a language later in life, she cannot inhabit it fully, cannot use it with the flexibility and nuance required of a competent translator. It is the same assumption that prompts many English language schools to advertise teaching posts only aimed at ‘native speakers’ – sometimes regardless of whether they have relevant experience or a teaching qualification.

Silvana Richardson delivered an eye-opening plenary on the issue of native speakerism in EFL (English as a foreign language) teaching during the 2016 IATEFL conference.¹ She cites research analysing whether students really prefer native-speaking teachers. What emerges is that both native and non-native teachers are perceived to be competent, each with unique strengths.

Parallel research to verify whether editors and readers can differentiate between translations provided by native and non-native translators would be very interesting. Can we attribute any sharp points to a non-native mis-rendering? Or can these be due, just as often, to the texture of the original text or the work of a native translator? Maybe it is impossible to tell the difference.

Language ownership

Literary translation is less professionalised than EFL teaching. A diploma is still not a requirement for a successful career – many eminent translators say they “fell into” the profession. If we, as an industry, are content to accept this democratic approach, the issue of language ownership, frequently conflated with national identity, seems to become critical.

I propose that distinctions such as ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ are becoming irrelevant. Richardson notes that the very idea of ‘second language acquisition’ can be more usefully reframed as ‘plurilingual development’. The PETRA-E Framework for Literary Translation, developed by eight eminent scientific institutions to map out five levels of competence for literary translators, from ‘beginner’ to ‘expert’, does not mention the translator’s linguistic status once.² Instead, even for the most advanced levels, it mentions pragmatic manifestations of language skill: “can justify choices made in translations”, “can write publishing reports”, “optimal creative ability”.

Both an informal survey of bilingual translators I conducted, and a panel about non-native translation I organised and chaired at this year’s London Book Fair (LBF),³ were expressive of an open-minded, descriptive, pragmatic approach to language use. My respondents emphasised the importance of the quality of the text produced over the identity of the translator. When discussing the latter, they were alive to the complexities involved, keen to add nuance to our understanding of how we come to use languages, and supportive of the translator embracing all the national and linguistic aspects of their experience. After all, as one of the participants of the LBF panel pointed out, issues such as mixed parentage and international upbringing (not to mention migration to a target-language country) blur the native/non-native distinction.

A large number of my respondents did not define themselves as bilingual translators – just as translators. That does not, however, invalidate their various identities, linguistic histories and individual preferences – which all translators have.

During the LBF seminar we discussed translation as creative writing, focusing more on the similarities than the differences between these two artificially separated groups: ‘native’ and ‘non-native’. All translators, Maureen Freely noted, are writers, and all benefit from enhancing the tools they use to write, for example experimenting with voice, register and style. As translators we try to travel back and forth between languages, understanding what language is and exploring the things that lie beneath. Furthermore, all translators need to find their niche, the texts they find most rewarding to work on – whether it is smooth Oxbridge diction or the deliberately fractured patois of a first-generation immigrant – but also be flexible enough to accommodate other styles.

Retiring the dichotomy of native versus non-native would help to do away with the impostor syndrome and the lack of confidence many bilingual translators struggle with. This can even lead those with foreign-sounding surnames to use their English married names, or pseudonyms, so they are not rejected out of hand by editors and clients. Interestingly, some bilingual translators I interviewed considered this ‘impostor syndrome’ to be an asset, as it made them second-guess and deeply analyse their linguistic choices.

Collaboration vs chaperoning

Co-translation is widely proposed as a way of integrating bilingual translators: they provide the first draft of the target text, and then a native speaker of the target language produces a final version. While some of my respondents work like this – one says she “can’t imagine working in any other way” – this is only one form of co-translation.

My view is that, while all translators can find co-translation stimulating, more sociable, and more rewarding, considering the quick verification of their proposed solutions, the suggestion that a bilingual translator should necessarily want a chaperone when engaging with a language is not helpful and, again, assumes a hierarchy of language competence that has not been verified.

The bilingual translator may have acquired her target language later in life, but if she approached the process seriously, she would have spent years decoding the rules that govern the language, learning from various teachers and possibly doing some teaching herself, diving headfirst into the literature and culture. The difference is that the process of expanding the user’s linguistic repertoire happens consciously, not via the osmosis granted to the ‘native’ speaker.

This is not to say that either way of acquiring a language is better – and there are endless other ways between those ends of the linguistic spectrum. It is to argue that, if they are all rooted in a deep, passionate interest in the language, in continued professional development, in keeping the translator’s voice rich and flexible, then they are equally valid and neither should disqualify the translator from engaging with the language in active and creative yet rigorous ways.

Notes

1 See http://bit.ly/1XxfxDH . Checked 13/1/17

2 See http://bit.ly/2iVbtSu. Checked 13/1/17

3 See http://bit.ly/2fVJF0d. Checked 13/1/17