Translated by Phoebe Bay Carter. He blinked several times, but nothing changed. The same putrid stench, the same pins and needles all along his right side, the same damp under him. He checked again to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He must have worn himself out yesterday, he thought, walking further than he had in years, and then slept wrong, causing part of his body to go numb, which affected his bladder in some way, leading him to lose control over it, which was a reasonable explanation as to why he had wet the bed at his age, and this last involuntary action was behind the smell. Having explained away what had disturbed him upon waking, he let out a sigh of relief.
Jan 13, 2022·edited Jan 13, 2022Liked by Mohammed Said Hjiouij
Again, thanks for all the insight into the work process! On the subject of how much of a distinct writing style and cadence to keep... What stuck out for me in this section was the repeated "He saw" and "He heard." If this was a text written in English that I was editing, I'd propose striking out most of those, as it's already been established that a lot of the info we're getting is coming from the guy in the bed (it's not strictly close third person, because we have a jocular narrator as well -- that complicates things -- but we're privy to the guy's thought process). You can just go ahead and say "His father ignored his sister and carried his wife from the room" and we pretty much know "our hero" has seen it happen.
BUT perhaps the function of "He saw" and "He heard" in the Arabic is to create a sense of distance and impassiveness? Something like: he saw and heard all this chaos erupting around him, and he didn't engage in any of it. In that case, maybe to make this clearer in English, a few of these could be rendered as "He watched as..."?
Not sure what to do about the "He heard," though as, for some reason, "He listened as..." doesn't strike me as such a good substitute. Maybe because it implies more calculation/thought/calm?
From the editor perspective, I will cut those repeated He-saw/He-heard. You are right Zora. The intention was to create a sense of distance and blurriness. Probably it was possible to wrote it in a better way, and Phoebe has the right and talent to come up with brilliant solutions for next revisions if needed. Personally, I don't prefer reading sentences like (by the way, I liked it's rhythm): "he saw and heard all this chaos erupting around him, and he didn't engage in any of it" that I found in some English translation of Arabic novels; this sentences added by translators/editors to explain, and/or to impose, a single interpretation on the reader... I'm not sure I have the right to comment on choices about translation to a language I know nothing about. Apology and thank you Zora for your patience.
Sorry, my mistake -- I wasn't proposing that "he saw and heard all this chaos..." as an actual translation. I was just saying that to summarize very broadly what was happening in that part. (I see I used "something like:" to introduce my proposed translation in my comment on part 2 -- hence the confusion. Sorry for the inconsistency.)
I like the distance and blurriness! And repetition in general can be effective and interesting. It's just the specific "he saw" and "he heard" clauses stick out in English because they are one of the things that English teachers very often flag, in the name of more concise, direct writing. (And then I reinforce in my editing work...)
So it raises another translation problem, of how much a translator should be bowing to style conventions. With translation, there's great potential to bring in really new and interesting ways of writing that are inspired by the source languages (most recent thing I read that made me think this was Yuri Herrera's novella "Signs Preceding the End of the World"). But at the same time, the translator has to thread that through the already established dictates of good and bad writing style in the target language.
For the question, as a reader I hate the Arabic translations (from any languages) that seem like it's written originally in Arabic. What there for me beyond the story? What I ask for is the original style. For my novels it depend. This one, Kafka in Tangier, it's the simplest. I have no strict demands. The second, The Riddle Of Edmond Amran El Maleh ('ahjiat 'iidmun amran almalih), I can gave the translator full freedom to Englishized the text, on the grounds that themes and overall narrative construction are more important than linguistic style. But for my third novel, By Night in Tangier, the style, the flow, is an essential component of the narrative construction.
I know it's necessary to keep the balance between what must save from the original and what the reader want. The more famous the writer, the easier it is to "impose" his style on the reader, and for the other writers, the market imposes its conditions.
Thank you so much for these thoughts, Zora! And you and Mohammed both bring up really excellent points in the ensuing conversation, about the question of balancing stylistic conventions in the original and target languages. I like your interpretation of what's going on in this scene -- how Jawad is there as this impassive observer. But I agree with you that the recurring "He saw" and "He heard" are unnecessarily repetitive.
In an earlier draft I had actually struck some of those, and changed some to "I watched," as you suggested. What led me to go back to a stricter adherence to the original was noticing that in the fourth chapter, the phrase "ra'a" (he saw) again repeats itself, but this time (sorry for the spoiler) Jawad is not seeing what is going on right in front of him, but what is going on on the other side of the door. One of the effects of his metamorphosis is an ability to see through walls. So I wanted to maintain this parallelism between these two moments of seeing. But I think I can do this without quite so much repetition.
A small observation I had when comparing your different versions was that there is a big difference in the cadence and rhythm when I speak it aloud compared to when I read it in my head...just another dimension of translation! I found I prefer your second version when I speak it because the sentences starting with 'And...' give both a chance for my brain to catch up and give the sense that each of the observations is a sort of accidental derailment of the narrator's thought. It also seems appropriately foreign to use this strange sentence structure as it echos the theme of not quite belonging /deslocation from the familiar
as suggested be this works title. But ultimately I can see arguments for all three and marvel that you have the courage to ever come to any translation choice!
Yes, this difference is something I've become particularly aware of since Paula started recording the audio version, so I've been thinking even more than usual about what this will sound like out loud. But I agree with you that sometimes what I like out loud, when I'm able to modulate the pace and pauses and inflections with my voice, is not that same as what I like when I'm reading silently to myself.
And I like your observation about how the more choppy sentences give the sense not of Jawad's racing thoughts, but of a series of derailments as each new piece of his explanation comes to him.
And to your last point, thank you -- I'm finding this format of sharing a draft along with several possible options for some of the tricky bits, instead of having to only share one final choice, to be an immensely gratifying experience!
Thank you Phoebe for this wonderful story and this engaging project! I actually have been thinking about the sentence length/flow both last week and this week... I always find it is the hardest part of Arabic to translate. I think in your example paragraph you do a wonderful job -- to me the "which"s capture well the train of thought of someone desperate for an explanation, and do so better than "and." To me Hijouij's humor is always based in the story's straightforward approach to an absurd situation, and the undulations between long trains of thought and quick matter-of-fact statements capture the absurdity. One very small suggestion would be to perhaps substitute a semi colon for the last and: "...which was a reasonable explanation as to why he had wet the bed at his age; this last involuntary action was behind the smell." It cuts the sentence a bit while maintaining the feel of Jawad's racing thoughts and transition into a satisfying answer. As for colloquialism, I think that "wore himself out" works in the final translation but maybe "tingling" is better than "pins and needles?" But it also feels like a personal choice; I think that overall it didn't feel overly colloquial. Thanks again for taking us on this journey!
Thank you Calvin! I'm so happy you're reading, and thank you for your comment. I played around with the punctuation a bit at the end of that long sentence, and I've taken your suggestion of changing "pins and needles" to "tingling." I agree it works better here. So thanks for that!
I’m not reading critically or weighing the problems faced by the translator; just simply allowing myself to be drawn into the story. The words, the rhythm and the flow do this very naturally and effectively, especially when read so beautifully by Paula. Thank you both. I eagerly await the next installment!
Thank you for your sweet and encouraging comments, my friend. Finally got a chance to read this week's installment just now. I cannot wait to record this one! It has so much energy and color. I love the exciting and suspenseful way it unfolds. And in addition to doing a fantastic job, Phoebe is so articulate when describing her translation process. We are all getting SO MUCH out of this experience. I am really grateful.
Let me put it this way: I can completely forget I am hearing a translation or that it is my friend Paula reading, and simply let the story come alive in me; and yet an independent witness, somewhere in a literate babk-corner of my mind (ah, the binary capability Of the human mind!) can still simultaneously marvel at/delight in the ingenuity and playfulness of the author, in his skill and in the sheer grandeur of the images arrising magically of their own accord out of the language; as, for example, in the description of the scream — one word, as it were, stretched out in time and over space until it indelibly and unforgettably and momentarily saturates an entire universe (parallel, to the one you consider real).
And that (Did you notice?) Is all one sentence!
But for Mohammed Said Hjiouij and for your literary commentary, I never would have dared.
The story has me hooked! 😃
Thanks for reading, Khalida!
Again, thanks for all the insight into the work process! On the subject of how much of a distinct writing style and cadence to keep... What stuck out for me in this section was the repeated "He saw" and "He heard." If this was a text written in English that I was editing, I'd propose striking out most of those, as it's already been established that a lot of the info we're getting is coming from the guy in the bed (it's not strictly close third person, because we have a jocular narrator as well -- that complicates things -- but we're privy to the guy's thought process). You can just go ahead and say "His father ignored his sister and carried his wife from the room" and we pretty much know "our hero" has seen it happen.
BUT perhaps the function of "He saw" and "He heard" in the Arabic is to create a sense of distance and impassiveness? Something like: he saw and heard all this chaos erupting around him, and he didn't engage in any of it. In that case, maybe to make this clearer in English, a few of these could be rendered as "He watched as..."?
Not sure what to do about the "He heard," though as, for some reason, "He listened as..." doesn't strike me as such a good substitute. Maybe because it implies more calculation/thought/calm?
From the editor perspective, I will cut those repeated He-saw/He-heard. You are right Zora. The intention was to create a sense of distance and blurriness. Probably it was possible to wrote it in a better way, and Phoebe has the right and talent to come up with brilliant solutions for next revisions if needed. Personally, I don't prefer reading sentences like (by the way, I liked it's rhythm): "he saw and heard all this chaos erupting around him, and he didn't engage in any of it" that I found in some English translation of Arabic novels; this sentences added by translators/editors to explain, and/or to impose, a single interpretation on the reader... I'm not sure I have the right to comment on choices about translation to a language I know nothing about. Apology and thank you Zora for your patience.
Sorry, my mistake -- I wasn't proposing that "he saw and heard all this chaos..." as an actual translation. I was just saying that to summarize very broadly what was happening in that part. (I see I used "something like:" to introduce my proposed translation in my comment on part 2 -- hence the confusion. Sorry for the inconsistency.)
I like the distance and blurriness! And repetition in general can be effective and interesting. It's just the specific "he saw" and "he heard" clauses stick out in English because they are one of the things that English teachers very often flag, in the name of more concise, direct writing. (And then I reinforce in my editing work...)
So it raises another translation problem, of how much a translator should be bowing to style conventions. With translation, there's great potential to bring in really new and interesting ways of writing that are inspired by the source languages (most recent thing I read that made me think this was Yuri Herrera's novella "Signs Preceding the End of the World"). But at the same time, the translator has to thread that through the already established dictates of good and bad writing style in the target language.
For the question, as a reader I hate the Arabic translations (from any languages) that seem like it's written originally in Arabic. What there for me beyond the story? What I ask for is the original style. For my novels it depend. This one, Kafka in Tangier, it's the simplest. I have no strict demands. The second, The Riddle Of Edmond Amran El Maleh ('ahjiat 'iidmun amran almalih), I can gave the translator full freedom to Englishized the text, on the grounds that themes and overall narrative construction are more important than linguistic style. But for my third novel, By Night in Tangier, the style, the flow, is an essential component of the narrative construction.
I know it's necessary to keep the balance between what must save from the original and what the reader want. The more famous the writer, the easier it is to "impose" his style on the reader, and for the other writers, the market imposes its conditions.
Thank you Zora.
Thank you so much for these thoughts, Zora! And you and Mohammed both bring up really excellent points in the ensuing conversation, about the question of balancing stylistic conventions in the original and target languages. I like your interpretation of what's going on in this scene -- how Jawad is there as this impassive observer. But I agree with you that the recurring "He saw" and "He heard" are unnecessarily repetitive.
In an earlier draft I had actually struck some of those, and changed some to "I watched," as you suggested. What led me to go back to a stricter adherence to the original was noticing that in the fourth chapter, the phrase "ra'a" (he saw) again repeats itself, but this time (sorry for the spoiler) Jawad is not seeing what is going on right in front of him, but what is going on on the other side of the door. One of the effects of his metamorphosis is an ability to see through walls. So I wanted to maintain this parallelism between these two moments of seeing. But I think I can do this without quite so much repetition.
Thanks again for your insightful comments!
A small observation I had when comparing your different versions was that there is a big difference in the cadence and rhythm when I speak it aloud compared to when I read it in my head...just another dimension of translation! I found I prefer your second version when I speak it because the sentences starting with 'And...' give both a chance for my brain to catch up and give the sense that each of the observations is a sort of accidental derailment of the narrator's thought. It also seems appropriately foreign to use this strange sentence structure as it echos the theme of not quite belonging /deslocation from the familiar
as suggested be this works title. But ultimately I can see arguments for all three and marvel that you have the courage to ever come to any translation choice!
Yes, this difference is something I've become particularly aware of since Paula started recording the audio version, so I've been thinking even more than usual about what this will sound like out loud. But I agree with you that sometimes what I like out loud, when I'm able to modulate the pace and pauses and inflections with my voice, is not that same as what I like when I'm reading silently to myself.
And I like your observation about how the more choppy sentences give the sense not of Jawad's racing thoughts, but of a series of derailments as each new piece of his explanation comes to him.
And to your last point, thank you -- I'm finding this format of sharing a draft along with several possible options for some of the tricky bits, instead of having to only share one final choice, to be an immensely gratifying experience!
Thank you Phoebe for this wonderful story and this engaging project! I actually have been thinking about the sentence length/flow both last week and this week... I always find it is the hardest part of Arabic to translate. I think in your example paragraph you do a wonderful job -- to me the "which"s capture well the train of thought of someone desperate for an explanation, and do so better than "and." To me Hijouij's humor is always based in the story's straightforward approach to an absurd situation, and the undulations between long trains of thought and quick matter-of-fact statements capture the absurdity. One very small suggestion would be to perhaps substitute a semi colon for the last and: "...which was a reasonable explanation as to why he had wet the bed at his age; this last involuntary action was behind the smell." It cuts the sentence a bit while maintaining the feel of Jawad's racing thoughts and transition into a satisfying answer. As for colloquialism, I think that "wore himself out" works in the final translation but maybe "tingling" is better than "pins and needles?" But it also feels like a personal choice; I think that overall it didn't feel overly colloquial. Thanks again for taking us on this journey!
Thank you Calvin! I'm so happy you're reading, and thank you for your comment. I played around with the punctuation a bit at the end of that long sentence, and I've taken your suggestion of changing "pins and needles" to "tingling." I agree it works better here. So thanks for that!
I’m not reading critically or weighing the problems faced by the translator; just simply allowing myself to be drawn into the story. The words, the rhythm and the flow do this very naturally and effectively, especially when read so beautifully by Paula. Thank you both. I eagerly await the next installment!
Thank you for your sweet and encouraging comments, my friend. Finally got a chance to read this week's installment just now. I cannot wait to record this one! It has so much energy and color. I love the exciting and suspenseful way it unfolds. And in addition to doing a fantastic job, Phoebe is so articulate when describing her translation process. We are all getting SO MUCH out of this experience. I am really grateful.
Thanks, Paula. Good to hear from you. I certainly am enjoying listening in on your collaboration and its results
Let me put it this way: I can completely forget I am hearing a translation or that it is my friend Paula reading, and simply let the story come alive in me; and yet an independent witness, somewhere in a literate babk-corner of my mind (ah, the binary capability Of the human mind!) can still simultaneously marvel at/delight in the ingenuity and playfulness of the author, in his skill and in the sheer grandeur of the images arrising magically of their own accord out of the language; as, for example, in the description of the scream — one word, as it were, stretched out in time and over space until it indelibly and unforgettably and momentarily saturates an entire universe (parallel, to the one you consider real).
And that (Did you notice?) Is all one sentence!
But for Mohammed Said Hjiouij and for your literary commentary, I never would have dared.
Thank you Lawrence. I hope you enjoy the rest of the novel.
Well said/written!! Love it.
An excellent sentence indeed! Thank you. I look forward to reading more :)