Translation, it’s not an easy task. I’ve often been asked what it’s like to translate a work from one language to another, in this case from German into English. The short answer would be hard work. But first, allow me to furnish a little background.
Having learned and studied English with all its idioms and exceptions, I embarked on a career as a police officer. There, I had plenty opportunity to write, but it was much later that I took a serious look at translation work. My reasoning was simple. I wanted to share some of the German books I had read with family and friends. But which would be easier? To teach them German, no easy feat, or to translate some of my favourite authors.
Alexandre Dumas’s works have been translated into English, so why not the works of Karl May, I reasoned. They were almost contemporaries, both having lived in the mid to late 1800s. So, after receiving encouragement from my wife, I embarked on my first project, translating one of Karl May’s novels into English. This in fact was a series, originally coined Die Liebe des Ulanen, which I rendered, The Hussar’s Love, to make it easier to identify with in North America.
Obviously what has helped me is that German was my first language. As a translator, you have to try to identify with the original author and his way of thinking and expressing himself. Unfortunately for me, Karl May died in 1912. There was no opportunity to consult with him. I would have to confine my thoughts and impressions to the works that have survived.
As I contemplated this translation project, I felt that I had the time and energy to do it justice, but I was surprised by its complexity. The challenge I faced was in remaining faithful to his original work while conveying the story into modern English. When you consider that much of this story takes place in Paris, where the characters spoke French (naturally!), this becomes all the more apparent. Also, Karl May’s novels, interspersed with French references, were penned in German over a century ago and contained a number of idioms largely unknown today.
I also discovered that there were a number of variations of his original work, Die Liebe des Ulanen. As I searched further, I realized that the four novels as we know them today (The Road to Waterloo, The Marabut’s Secret, The Spy from Ortry, and The Gentlemen of Greifenklau) later stemmed from a series of Lieferungen, or consignments in a local newspaper, der Deutscher Wanderer. These 108 parts comprised what would later be known as the Münchmeyer Romane. They were sold by Karl May to the newspaper and appeared there on a regular basis, running from September 1883 to October 1885.
These stories, which May penned in a style of adventure and intrigue, were well-received by the general public. It’s interesting to note that May started his tale circa 1870, and introduced the reader to the central characters, spanning to the second and third generation. The setting was just prior to the Prussian-French War. He then abruptly takes us back to 1814, not in a flashback but in dramatic fashion, explaining how the conflict originated between two particular families. Particularly clever is the way in which May weaved two central and historical figures into the story, Napoleon Bonaparte and Field Marshal von Blücher. The inclusion of these larger than life men added an additional dimension to the plot, heightening the drama faced by the novel’s protagonist, Lieutenant von Löwenklau.
I chose my translation work by beginning at what would be the chronological starting point, the events taking place in 1814. Although I have perused the later, more commonly known abridged text made available in a four-part series by several European publishers, I have followed the original, unabridged version. Having said all that, it’s very important that the translated text makes sense to the modern, North-American reader. That’s where the fun really begins, converting a hundred-year old text into readable modern English. So, to answer the original question, a translator has to certainly be competent, mindful of what the original author wanted to convey, yet make the experience fresh and enjoyable.
An English professor whom I had consulted, gave me some wonderful advice. She stated that a good translation is one that isn’t disjointed or cumbersome, but has a flow of its own and doesn’t read like a translation. That is what I wanted to achieve. My readers will be the best judges of that, I trust.
Thus the adventure began.