The Linguist

The Linguist 57,4 - August/September 2018

The Linguist is a languages magazine for professional linguists, translators, interpreters, language professionals, language teachers, trainers, students and academics with articles on translation, interpreting, business, government, technology

Issue link: https://thelinguist.uberflip.com/i/1010759

Contents of this Issue

Navigation

Page 26 of 35

@Linguist_CIOL AUgUST/SEPTEMBEr The Linguist 27 REVIEWS In this thought-provoking novel, Miles Platting has founded Lingua Franca – a jazzy start-up full of grads, perks and enough buzzwords to convince themselves they're doing something worthwhile. what's the "idea of tomorrow" that's going to "change the face of a generation"? renaming UK towns after corporate brands who sponsor their revival. There's Birdseye-in-Furness, Monster, waterstones and other tenuous homophones. Lingua Franca William Thacker Legend Press 2016, 272 pp; ISBN 978- 1785079740 Paperback, £8.99 Much of the book consists of Briggs thinking aloud about the multiple linguistic obstacles she faces and the various (rarely satisfactory) options available for overcoming them. These monologues are punctuated by entertaining asides about various related subjects, from the language of dragons in children's literature to the sometimes turbid relationships between famous writers and their translators. reference is made to Mann and his much-maligned English translator Helen Lowe- Porter, who provides Briggs with a counterpart from another age against whom to contrast her own doubts and achievements. Thanks to the author's excellent prose, her probing questions and her impressive though unobtrusive erudition, I am sure that This Little Art will be enjoyed not only by practitioners of the 'little art' of translation, but by lovers of literature in general. Ross Smith MCIL This Little Art is an insightful, whimsical and deeply personal approach to the mysteries of literary translation. It takes as a focal point the author's English translation of two volumes of lecture notes by the French essayist and critic roland Barthes (The Preparation of the Novel and How to Live Together), as well as the principal works referred to in those volumes, notably Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain. Briggs wastes no time in getting to the heart of the matter, as her essay begins with a lengthy reflection on how remarkable it is that translation actually works; that is, that readers are prepared to go along with the translator's charade and accept that, for instance, the german characters in a novel written by a german author are talking to each other, and to the reader, in English. In The Magic Mountain the situation is made even more complex by the use of French in the original, amid the german (the same issue arises in Tolstoy). what is the English translator to do: translate the French as well, or leave it as it is and hope the reader can understand? It is quandaries such as these that make This Little Art such an enjoyable and interesting read. The author seeks to unravel the complex triangular relationship among reader, translator and writer, reflecting on their mutual influence and dependencies (she mentions writer Javier Marías' opinion that translation is essential practice for good writing). In the process, she provides a calm but staunch defence of the validity and importance of the translation itself as an independent artistic creation. This Little Art Kate Briggs Fitzcarraldo Editions 2017, 400 pp ISBN 978- 1910695456 Paperback, £12.99 Lingua Franca makes a persuasive pitch: a failing town can get back on its feet for the small fee of its name. The town is marketed as a destination, increasing home values, business opportunities and wages to boot. what's in a name anyway? Language evolves to suit our needs. In a Brexit climate, it seems believable that some provincial ghost towns, suffering from a decline of industry and lack of jobs, might jump at this chance to have their town made 'great again'. As with taking a punt at the ballot box, they'd have nothing left to lose. yet, Lingua Franca is only making enemies. "our name is our identity", the local people cry. Language equals values, culture, community. People value their heritage over commercialism. They want to believe their souls cannot be sold. The most insidious opponent proves to be Miles himself, whose belief in his own company comes into question. It doesn't help that he's infatuated with one of Lingua Franca's most strident protestors. In the face of love, his professional vision is rendered meaningless waffle. In what contorts into a surreal picture, Miles becomes a prisoner in a world that turns mute as an extreme reaction to the chaos and controversy caused; he is punished for something in which he never truly believed in the first place. with the quandary left open – if language evolves, does it only devolve? – it is perhaps the protagonist's apathy that makes us reflect the most. If we do not interrogate the language we use, we are subjects to it. Through language we can be manipulated, and manipulate others. Language tells us what things are called, what we should not say and even how we feel. Thacker shows us a world where language gets the better of its speakers. when the going gets too difficult or diverse, they scurry into silence. This was a surprising and intriguing read. The dystopian reality alienates the reader, allowing us to listen intently to the language we are used to simply exhaling. How far do we choose the words we say? what does what we say, say about us? Do we always believe it? what do we really believe in? How easily do we accept what we hear? How much are we willing to speak up? what are we willing to bargain? Maddie Kilminster

Articles in this issue

Archives of this issue

view archives of The Linguist - The Linguist 57,4 - August/September 2018