Interpreting is Not an Easy Endeavor

Ludwig Wittgenstein, one of the great philosophers of the modern era, renown among other things for giving away his massive inheritance and becoming a gardener, once wrote: “ Language is a part of our organism, and no less complicated than it.” The truth is that no one realizes how truly complicated language can be until one feels the need to learn a new language. Most of our native language is generally learned at our mother’s knee by means of osmosis long before the onset of our higher critical faculties, which is why we don’t remember ever having to learn it. It is not until our first years in grade school that we come to the daunting realization that the language that we thought was so innate in us, so commonsensical, so second nature, now becomes a challenging and tedious system of rules and norms that bewilders the mind and bogs down our academic progress. Yet, let me reiterate, the bulk of our work in learning our mother tongue was done more or less unconsciously simply by steady exposure to our parents and siblings’ conversations throughout our upbringing; the drudgery of grammar and spelling rules simply follows from that. Now, try learning a second language, but rather than starting halfway through –as you would with your first language- you don’t get a head start, you have to start at zero. This is why most people still harbor an aversion to the strictures of language and despise those pedants who seem to have a flawless command of it. And this is also why most Americans learn a smidgeon of a foreign language in High School, conventionally foisted upon them by the school program, only to fully forget it in the following couple of years. It is only a small minority of students who happen to develop a liking for language, some of them even a passion for this field. Of said minority, only a rare tiny fraction will go on to make a career out their love of language and a yet slimmer portion will truly excel at such discipline. I am proud to boast the former as my current predicament; the latter, my constant aim.

As an interpreter/translator, two concepts are remarkably important: syntax and semantics. Syntax is simply the combination of words and other elements in order to form grammatical expressions, whereas issues of meaning and connotation fall within the purview of semantics. In practice, discerning among and extrapolating from these two distinct viewpoints can be a nightmare for both aspiring multi-linguals and automated translation systems. Here is a clear and brief demonstration. Using Google Translator –arguably one of the most complex translators on offer, I have entered the phrase in Spanish: George Carlin es un cínico. When translated into English, GT yields the following sentence: George Carlin is a cynic. The inaccuracy here is not obvious to most of us. On its face, this translation seems very precise. Two things are necessary in order for someone to spot the otherwise glaring mistake: one must have a rich cultural background in the source language, and a sufficiently wide vocabulary in the target one. Even for people whose native language is English only 1 out 50 college students knows what the word “cynic” means[1]. The problem lurks in the actual denotation of the cognate word “cínico”. In Spanish, someone who merits such disagreeable ascription is shameless, brazen, audaciously rude, or makes no effort to hide his bad intentions. In contrast, in English, someone who is “cynical” is someone who habitually distrusts people, or someone who perceives bad intentions where none exist. In the same vein, the word “vagabond” meaning someone who is homeless is translated into Spanish as “vagabundo”. The denotation for these words is actually identical in this case; it is their connotation that differs immensely. In English, the noun has a pejorative coloring, i.e., we don’t say, Let’s raise money to feed the vagabonds of Minnesota! However, a disgruntled divorcee would exclaim, My ex-husband left me only to become a squalid vagabond! Notice how the word “vagabond” captures the negative feelings she is trying to convey.  In Spanish the connotation is pretty much neutral. Vi a un vagabundo en la calle y le di de comer (I saw a homeless person on the street and gave him some food). No conspicuous ill-will or resentful emotions are in display here.  Thus, when the stakes are high as in public pronouncements, confounding these two nouns could cost someone his or her job!

Another common mistake is the capitalization of common nouns vs proper nouns. It just so happens that proper nouns tend to vary significantly depending on the language. The letter “m” in “Monday” deserves a higher case, but its Spanish equivalent, “lunes”, doesn’t. The same goes for the names of the months, and even for the names of languages and nationalities. One can speak “Urdu” or “urdu”, depending on whether one is writing in English or Spanish respectively. Hundreds and hundreds of examples like these exist, many more that I could squeeze into a terse paper of this size. It is in full awareness of these intricacies and ambiguities that I believe that it takes a lot more than is usually given credit for to be a non-mediocre interpreter, let alone a polished, perceptive and accurate translator. A shrewd interpreter/translator must able to pick up cultural cues that would otherwise go overlooked by the untutored eye of a less experienced interpreter. 

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[1] I personally surveyed 100 college peers for a school project in 2010 and only 2 provided an acceptable definition.