Killing an Arab
After Intro to Linguistics I went to the library to reread the sections I was to lead the discussion of in my Dialectology class. The presentation took a lot less time than I thought it would. I deviated from the linear delineation of the book; linking together the concept of deficient-difference controversy with the section on standardized testing and linking the concept of "correct" with the idea of development norms (Both have to do with standard English norms).
An interesting anecdote was told by the professor. We were talking about assumptions about language. The book had 8 tips for test taking from the US Department of Labor and we were discussing the social factors that might influence how these tips were perceived and the assumptions of language that the tip writers had. The professor then told us about how he was approached a few years back by the dean of undergraduate studies to teach a world literature class (ostensibly because the professor is from Sudan) after he had taught an American literature class. While preparing for the World Lit course he flipped through the
Norton Anthology of World Lit and came across a translation of an Old Arabic poem that he studied as a kid. It is comprised of 106 stanzas in Old Arabic, and as a kid he had to memorize the complete poem. The type of poem dictated a particular thematic structure. In the native version there was 40 lines describing a camel. In the English "translation" 35 of these lines had been cut out. The Professor commented that this section was the most important part of the poem in the Old Arabic version, but that obviously a camel isn't considered to be valued at 40 lines of poetry in English. He then went on to talk some about how well treated camels are in Saudi Arabia - and joked about them being hauled around in the back of pick-up trucks while wives were forced to walk.
This difference in importance reminded me of Edward FitzGerald's "translation" of the rubaiyats of Omar Khayyam; which some critics would say bear little resemblance to the original quatraines.
Some loss seem inevitable when translating from one language to another. Though probably less deliberate than in FitzGerald's case, the translation of Japanese haikus into English often lack their full cultural significance. Also, I have often been told that the same holds true of reading philosophy- knowing the native language rather than relying on translations, results in less loss between the author and the reader. Of course, even in these situations, a non-native speaker wouldn't pick up on
all the cultural ramifications of the text.
Still, 40 lines about a camel. Interesting.