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/393748
14 The Linguist OCTOBER/NOVEMBER www.ciol.org.uk LANGUAGES AT WAR Sometimes, though, one can be lucky, as with this example from Cocteau's 'La cave est basse'. The protagonist, a stretcher-bearer, is billeted in a cellar. Summoned to fetch a casualty, he goes out through the bombarded town to the front: Combien la guerre met-elle de temps à manger une ville? Elle mange salement, grignote et garde un détail pour le dessert Cocteau's reader immediately picks up an eloquent allusion: after the race to the sea in 1914 and the realisation that the war was not going to be over quickly, the French Commander-in-Chief, Joseph Joffre, asserted: Je les grignote ('I'm nibbling away at them/wearing them down'). Losing the precise allusion can be compensated for by amplifying the image of war growing fat: How long does it take a war to consume a town? It's a dirty eater, nutrition by attrition, keeping one bit back for pudding Connoting war of attrition, 'nutrition by attrition' conveys the double meaning in grignote, and the blatant rhyme mocks what was, by 1916, seen to be the empty echo of Joffre's affirmation. Even general geographical references may have greater historical resonance for a French reader than for a British one. For example, in René Arcos's 'Crise d'effectifs', 300 carpenters are working flat out to make enough crosses for soldiers' graves. One stanza refers to areas of France immediately recognisable to French readers as the sites of terrible battles: Mille croix pour la Champagne Et mille pour le Laonnois, Mille pour le Soissonnais Et mille encore pour l'Artois. Most of these references will not strike a chord with British readers and may even seem esoteric. This version substitutes more recognisable places: A thousand crosses for Verdun, A second thousand for Arras, Another thousand for Soissons, And a thousand more for Mons. Soldiers, of course, had their own idioms and repertoire of allusions, which can also be a problem. Here is an example from Apollinaire's '2e canonnier conducteur'. The original is a calligramme, printed in the shape of a bugle; I shall focus on the allusion: As-tu connu la putain de Nancy qui a foutu la v***** à toute l'artillerie L'artillerie ne s'est pas aperçu [sic] qu'elle avait mal au * * This was sung to the tune of Reveille (referred to earlier in the poem). The sniggeringly coy omission marks stand for vérole and cul. A TT singable to the British Reveille, which troops did set words to, might be more crude than this rough translation: Did you know the whore from Nancy the artillery copped the pox off? The artillery never noticed her fanny was infected. Military parlance aside, there is as big a risk of unwanted anachronism in a Great War target text, as with any historical text. Here is an example from Cocteau's 'Délivrance des âmes', which begins: Au segment de l'Eclusette On meurt à merveille. On allait prendre l'air dehors… On fumait sa pipe ; on est mort. It is vital to keep it short and matter-of-fact, but with the gallows humour of the alliterative meurt à merveille. Here is a draft translation: A cracking place for getting shot, The Eclusette O.P. You stepped outside to clear your head Or puff a pipe; you're dead. 'Cracking' is less period- and class-specific than the anachronistic 'ace', 'cool', 'brilliant' or 'fab', or than anatopic terms such 'wizard', 'top-hole' or 'a corker of'. It is also slightly punning, to compensate for losing the alliteration. 'Ripping' is temptingly grisly but, again, more Boy's Own than French dugout. These examples are mostly works in progress. Ian Higgins would welcome suggestions. A MORAL JUDGEMENT British tear gas casualties during the Battle of Estaires, 1918. War poets are preoccupied by the damage caused by war and its aftermath