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/715470
thelinguist.uberflip.com AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2016 The Linguist 9 FICTION IN TRANSLATION reached the MBIP shortlist with A Strangeness in My Mind. However fast the formats and markets change in global publishing, the long-term careers of literary giants such as Pamuk can anchor the entire business. After 2001, as I worked every year on The Independent's prize, I saw the British end of that business slowly grow in confidence and clout. At the beginning of my involvement, every expert player – publishers, agents, academics, translators and writers themselves – would gloomily repeat the figure of 3%: supposedly the average proportion of translated works amid the ever-rising output of English-language publishers. I always took that mythic statistic with a pinch of salt and refused to treat it as a diagnosis of despair. It should, of course, be much higher. Look at literary fiction alone and, in certain years, it is. However, the global might and scope of the English language dictates that the UK will never match the rate of translation (30, 40 or even 50%) found in some smaller continental nations. Moreover, the overall boom in recorded book titles, as corporate over-production, self-publishing and e-books swelled the ranks, means that the benchmark numbers for calculating percentages have exploded. If general output doubles, then 3% – or 5% – will signify twice as many books. Above all, translations not only need to exist in bulk but to be effectively marketed, displayed, reviewed, sold and, finally, read with curiosity, passion and enjoyment. I decided early that the encouragement of a livelier culture of reception and discussion does more for translation than any Soviet-style campaign for statistical leaps. I hope that the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize did its bit to improve the climate. So did many other elements. A foreign legion of dedicated publishers and imprints not only kept faith with translation but spawned offshoots and heirs with an equal commitment. In addition to stalwart translation-friendly houses, such as Harvill Secker, Bloomsbury, Faber, Granta/Portobello and Chatto & Windus, start-ups and breakaways have enlivened the landscape – among them MacLehose Press, Pushkin Press, And Other Stories, Europa Editions and Peirene Press. Far-sighted editors with strong international contacts found that English-language rights for major global names could be acquired at a modest cost. The new kids punched well above their weight. Networks of support Literary translators themselves have learned to network and collaborate with gusto and resolve. True, in Britain we seldom witness trade union jamborees such as the international conference of Harry Potter translators, at which the multilingual servants of JK Rowling's young wizard once gathered to complain (like dockers or miners of old) at their long hours and low pay. But translators do know that unity means strength; they actively pursue solidarity through internet forums, in professional bodies such as the Chartered Institute of Linguists, and via the teaching and learning opportunities afforded by institutions such as the (indispensable) British Centre for Literary Translation (BCLT). Bookshops have also aided the entrenchment of foreign literature in British reading habits. Stylish specialists, such as Daunt Books, make a virtue, and a USP, out of their globe-spanning range of stock. In branches of Waterstones, dedicated tables frequently point browsers towards work from different languages and cultures. Meanwhile, the torrent of Nordic crime fiction, from Henning Mankell to Jo Nesbø himself, has become such a reliable banker for publishers and retailers that it needs no special pleading any more. Beyond the bookshops, other actors have helped raise the voice of translation. Arts Council England, steadfast supporters of the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize until, in 2015, it harmoniously blended into the Man Booker International Prize, has kept the development of wider readerships for translation as one of its key priorities in literature. English PEN offers targeted grants to maximise the public impact of the translated works that it supports. Literary festivals, with Edinburgh in the vanguard, increasingly give readers the chance to encounter authors from beyond the 'Anglosphere', and their translators. Many newspapers and magazines no longer consign translated literature to a brief footnote. Coverage does tend to go through slightly predictable phases of 'discovering' and lionising the latest international superstar, from Bolaño to Ferrante. The process can look formulaic. Still, at a time when traditional literary journalism must fight hard to survive, much better a belated overnight sensation in translation than no notice at all. At The Independent, I tried to ensure that a substantial slice of review space – more like 30% than 3% some weeks – regularly went to non-Anglophone fiction. You may choose to boost the fortunes of global literature by making it look special and exotic: spicy IMAGES: © JANIE AIRLEY GROWING APPEAL Best-selling Korean books at Foyles (top); the winning book, The Vegetarian (above); and (below) guests at the Man Booker International Prize event on 16 May MIRANDA MOORE