The Linguist

The Linguist 54,4

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

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'magic' in the middle. The letter 'I' can also refer to the fact that 'impicturement' is a punishment for individuals, and the 'con' at the end is slang for convict or inmate. Then there was the mud run of the Lunatrixish dialogue. The Lunatrixes speak in a very complex way, which is totally at odds with the simple language usually found in the Oksa Pollock books. The authors use this to show how strange and fascinating these cute household stewards are. Sometimes my eyes and ears became so clogged up with mud that it was hard to tell exactly what the Lunatrixes were saying – something that Oksa struggles with too. Here is a typical example: 'The lineage of the Lunatrixes has preserved the recollection garnished with warmth of your erstwhile consent to cradle his body and lavish caresses on him'. All the Lunatrix is saying is that his toddler has remembered being cuddled and stroked by Gus – but the French is very difficult to understand and does not sound like everybody else's normal, chatty way of speaking, so I had to do the same thing in English and make the language just as peculiar. Then it was a clear sprint to the finishing line, although I had to be careful not to trip over my own feet on the way. Sometimes a translator has to avoid translating words just for the sake of it. Some of the names in the French are just as effective in English and just as easy to understand. It is important to know when to translate something and when to leave well alone – it's all part of trying to stay invisible. For example, the Getorix (a creature with long, shaggy, untidy hair) was left unchanged, since its name is a reference to the Gallic tribal leader Vercingetorix, who had a voluminous mane of hair. Amplivox is another example. This is a pill to be swallowed that acts like a megaphone and amplifies the voice. It would be hard to find an English equivalent that worked as well as the French, which combines 'ampli' (as in 'amplify/amplification') and vox, which is Latin for voice and is often seen in phrases such as 'vox pop'. In the books of Anne Plichota and Cendrine Wolf, Oksa likes to think of herself as a ninja warrior, so perhaps she would have grown up to be a translator if she hadn't had a different destiny to fulfil. As Israeli writer Etgar Keret said, 'Translators are like ninjas. If you notice them, they're no good.' This article was first published in The Guardian, 25/2/15. thelinguist.uberflip.com AUGUST/SEPTEMBER The Linguist 19 I was delighted when I came up with Gargantuhen, which plays on the word 'gargantuan' combined with 'hen' (also providing a neat reference to the epic series by the French author Rabelais, Gargantua and Pantagruel). That was only the first obstacle though. There were also the names of the amazing magical powers that Oksa and the other Runaways (who have been exiled from an incredible, invisible world somewhere within this world) could use as weapons or useful tools: Volumiplus. The French – Chuchalotte – is based on the verb chuchoter, which means 'to whisper'. This power allows someone to hear the tiniest sounds clearly. I came up with a name that merges 'volume and 'plus'. Volumiplus also sounds like some of the other powers, such as Magnetus (which I left the same as the French, as it was clear what it meant) and Alpinismus. Here I used a mix of 'alpinism', which means mountaineering in many European languages, with the same 'us' ending (the French Varapus comes from la varappe, meaning 'rock-climbing'). Having made my way through the tyre run of powers, I had to confront the monkey bars of magical accessories and objects. There are a variety of instruments and concoctions that help Oksa and the Runaways escape the terrible dangers that befall them, and these were just as tricky to deal with. One example is the Imagicon, which appears in Volume Two, and is the object that imprisons Gus inside a painting. The French – Claque-toile – joins the word for canvas or painting (toile) with 'claque', from the verb claquer ('to slam or bang a door'). There is also the verb claquemurer, which means to shut in. I tried all kinds of combinations with canvas and picture, but couldn't come up with anything that was as snappy as the French, so I had to swing a little harder. 'Imagicon' sounds a little like 'emoticon', which is used in texting and emailing, combines 'image' with 'icon', and also contains My eyes and ears became so clogged up that it was hard to tell what the Lunatrixes were saying

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