Un débauché de profession est rarement un homme pitoyable. Which I am sure is a guide of the utmost use to us all in modern life. If we fully understand the nuances.
This morning I came across a writing challenge based on starting a story with the first line of your favourite book. I would have the greatest difficulty choosing ten books to be my favourites, let alone choosing a single book. So I decided to instead to use a book to which I return again and again: John Fowles’ The Magus. Ignoring the preface to the revised edition, it begins with the De Sade quotation at the start of this post.
My French is not terrible but I have not read either literature or poetry in it since school, so I decided to seek a translation rather than rely on my patchy and dis-euphonious comprehension. While it did not take long to confirm my direct translation was valid or to discover a more melodious and nuanced version, by the time I had so done my mind had begun to wonder about the use of quotations in fiction (or even non-fiction) without a translation.
By now I suspect the readers of this posts are split into three groups: people who have translated the it with no difficulty; people who are either relying on a basic understanding or a search engine; and people who skimmed it and might be waiting for a translation.
I have embedded the quote into the text, and referred to it in the next sentence, so I anticipate the last group is reasonably small. However, when reading a book I often fall into it myself. I still read most books on paper, sitting on a sofa, and the ebooks I read are almost always read with the wi-fi turned off on my Kindle to save battery. Putting down a book to either go to my computer or turn on the wi-fi, so I can search for a translation is almost always more effort and distraction than I wish to incur for the potential reward. If I, with an almost obsession to read everything and consume new knowledge set them aside for later, are these quotations really adding to the work?
Indeed, if the author has succeeded in immersing me in the story, or even in creating an engaging blurb, I might not even remember to seek a translation later. The effectiveness of these quotations is thus inversely proportional to the attractiveness of the book as a whole.
When books were the preserve of the wealthy (and thus educated man) it perhaps made sense to assume the reader would speak French, German, Latin, Greek, and other languages well enough to quote without a translation. But is that still a valid assumption? If having studied Latin and Greek at school is the exception not the rule, and becoming more so for each generation, then is omitting the translation moving from erudition to obfuscation?
Or is an air of exclusivity the goal? If many literary classics begin sections or even chapters with an untranslated quotation from a foreign classic, then is having untranslated quotations a message that this is serious fiction rather than whatever the author least wishes it mistaken for? Would Margaret Atwood’s protestations that The Handmaid’s Tale is not science fiction be unnecessary if she added “Ventosa viri restabit” before the first paragraph?
I have no objection to quotations; however, if they truly add to the story then would they not add more if a translation were provided as well? In such spirit, the initial quotation could be translated as the professional philanderer is seldom worthy of pity.
Do you take time to translate quotes if you do not recognise them? Do you find their inclusion annoying, even if you can translate them?