The need to convey meaning on the first two levels hampers the translator, because it limits him or her in the words that can be chosen, and the ones that are available inevitably color the translated work in a new way. A translator may come up with a new creation that has some parallel relationship with the original, hoping to evoke similar feelings and experiences through the second language, but they cannot ever be truly the same, because they live in a realm beyond intellectual meaning. This also can be translated to a certain extent.īut the third element, the actual sound-sculpture of the language, which gives color and emotional resonance to the story, is not translatable. Then there’s how these materials are worked with: how the plot is structured, how the narration works, what kinds of images are chosen, how description is balanced with plot development. There’s the basic plot and character framework, the general raw materials of fiction this element, I think, can be translated, because it can be understood independent of the language used. As I read Le Grand Meaulnes, one of the most acclaimed and popular novels that came out of the past century in France, I pondered the various aspects of the writer’s art, and how they can or cannot be translated from one tongue into another. It’s been a while since I read a novel in translation.
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