T
ranslators' work often involves wrestling with meaning,
and certain media test a translator's abilities in
distinctive ways. Comic books, in particular, confront us
with something slippery: words on the page that attempt to
sonically or sensorially depict the actions shown by the
images in each panel. For example, a 'meow' might
represent a cat's cry, while 'crack' captures the sound of an
egg breaking. We call these elements by different names –
onomatopoeias, ideophones, interjections – but they all
form what we might describe as 'graphic noise': textual
material designed to engage the reader across multiple
dimensions, blending image and language in a multimodal
attempt to create immersion.
These are not words in the usual sense; they are expressive
forms that aim to evoke immediate sensations. Readers rarely
linger over them, so they must be punchy and effective. They
reach the audience as bursts of colour and text – playful
linguistic inventions that shape the reading experience as
powerfully as plot or dialogue. They can imitate various
senses – not only sound, but also movement, texture, taste
and emotion – often breaking the rules of the language they
belong to. This is why calling these forms 'onomatopoeias'
FROM 'BANG!' TO 'SBAM!',
PIER PISCHEDDA CONSIDERS
THE RICH SOUNDSCAPES OF
COMIC BOOKS AND THE
CREATIVE CHALLENGES THEY
POSE FOR TRANSLATORS
GRAPHIC
NOISE
©
SHUTTERSTOCK
