Korea Times Translation Awards 2015: Judges' Report
Brother Anthony, professor emeritus at Sogang University
By Brother Anthony, Jung Ha-yun and Min Eun-kyung
What are the judges in The Korea Times Translation Awards expected to look for? The answer might seem obvious: the best translations among those submitted. But how are we going to decide whether a translation is “good” and what is going to make one translation “better than the others” when each translator has translated a different work in a different way? What do we mean by “a good translation?” Every year we start again with these questions. This year we were asked to read eight poetry entries and 10 translations of works of fiction. Clearly, all the translators had tried hard to “do their best” but we were going to have to choose some award-winners among them. On what basis?
Our starting point is to read the English translation without looking at the Korean original. At this stage, it often becomes clear that some of the entries are going to be eliminated on account of their weak or disappointing English grammar and style. Even among “native speakers” of English not everyone has mastered the art of writing in a convincing literary style; Koreans do not always realize how difficult it is to write well in a foreign language, even when it has been studied for many years. Sometimes a desire to be extremely “faithful” to the words of the Korean original can prevent the production of a translation that reads well. English and Korean are too different for a strict “word-for-word” method to be possible. We were especially impressed this year by the overall quality of the English writing, especially in the fiction entries. Most of them were really good. The poetry was, as always, on the whole, less convincing. It is far more difficult to produce good English versions of Korean poetry, it seems.
Our next step is potentially more controversial. We now set about comparing the English text with the Korean original in order to evaluate the translations in terms of “faithfulness.” This is controversial because literary translators often demand considerable liberty in producing their final English version. We have to decide whether the liberties taken contribute to rendering in English the style and narrative craft of the original Korean or whether the translator has taken the text too far away from its original in an attempt to produce an easily readable text. We are judging a translation competition and our concern is to find translations in which the translator has clearly identified and attempted to reproduce the specific style and prosodic structures of the original. This sensitivity to the “feel” of the Korean work, and the ability to reproduce it, are, we think, as important as the ability to write good English prose or verse. The future publishers of a translation may demand additional editing to make it more “reader-friendly” but we have slightly other criteria. We hope to help launch a lifelong career for our winners as literary translators, and it is when sensitivity to the characteristics of the original goes hand-in-hand with skill in writing English that such a career becomes possible.
There were some cases in the fiction entries where we felt that the translator had made too many unnecessary changes or failed to capture the essential tone of the original. However, we soon found ourselves admiring three entries which were very readable and made clear attempts to reflect the prose and narrative style of the original, albeit to varied degrees and through different methods. The judges were unwilling to give much weight to their personal likes and dislikes regarding the works chosen. Not all Korean fiction is equally appealing and we assumed that each translator had found some strong reason for selecting the work they had translated. But for that very reason we found it impossible to go on to select a single Grand Prix winner. We had three works of equally high quality, very different in their narrative techniques, themes and settings, but all very well and sensitively translated.
Each of the three translations, however, had its share of shortcomings, as well as merits: "More Than Half of Haruo" demonstrated the translator's efforts at staying close to the origin, but we felt the prose required more polish. "The Old Diary" was well translated, but took many liberties with the original narrative. In particular, the translator chose not to render the stream-of-consciousness style of the original text accurately. We felt that this was a loss. Lastly, although "The Left-Handed Woman" was a very polished work, we felt that its narrative voice was more lyrical than that of the original, and the style also more elaborate. So we decided to select the three as equal winners of commendation awards, as being the only fair solution.
In the poetry entries, there was less hesitation because one entry stood out clearly by its intelligent grasp of the original and its poetic quality as a translation. This was one of two entries where the poet chosen is one of the younger generation, characterized by considerable difficulty and even obscurity. We felt that some more revision with a skilled reader might bring the translations even closer to the originals, where the ambiguities are considerable. But we were glad to find an entry with the courage to tackle one of Korea’s leading young poets and with the skill to bring it off so well.
To those whose entries were not selected we would offer words of encouragement. Training as a translator requires much time and practice. If you did not succeed this time, there is plenty of time before the deadline for next year’s awards. Keep trying, and above all, translate works which you feel deeply convinced deserve translating and which, you also feel, will be well received outside Korea once they are published. The world is waiting!