[Max Goodman]

Originally Posted by Roger Slater

Let's say you took someone else's translation and copied it word for word, for example. That would be an infringement of the copyright on the translation

Obviously.

But what about unstolen similarities in translation, which, to some extent, must be inevitable? Are identically translated lines or even stanzas rare enough to be evidence of theft? I suppose after translating, if not before, it would make sense for a poet to check out other existing translations to determine whether one's take is unique enough to merit publication. But if one's translation was new in significant ways and similar in other significant ways, the decision might be difficult.

[Michael Juster]

I usually agree with Roger on most things literary (not so much political...), but I tend to like the facing original. I have grown increasingly wary about translations, and rather enjoy trying to see what has survived, what has been lost, and what has been shamelessly inserted.

But maybe that's just quirky old me.

[Terese Coe]

Hi Mary

Facing originals are convenient for those who are interested, but with the wide accessibility of the net they are a needless expense for the publisher, and drive up the price of the book.

Similar phrases: it's a complex question, and every instance is different. There are no easy answers, even though translators know that once in a great while there are very few alternatives for a phrase. Of course similarity is one problem and an identical phrase is a much larger problem~~again, each phrase has to be dealt with individually as well as in terms of the whole. And if a whole line is the same as that of a previous translation, the red flags go up, without doubt! But as others have said and keep saying (including Alicia, who for me was the first), it's best never to look at a metrical/rhymed translation (if that is also your intention) before starting out.

[Roger Slater]

Originally Posted by Max Goodman

Obviously.

But what about unstolen similarities in translation, which, to some extent, must be inevitable? Are identically translated lines or even stanzas rare enough to be evidence of theft?

It's always a copyright defense if you can prove that you didn't actually copy someone else's work, but came upon the same or similar words by coincidence. Of course, the more similarities, the harder it is to believe that it was just a coincidence, but if there are a few phrases or rhymes in common between two translations, I doubt very much that it would raise many eyebrows.

One of the remarkable things I find when I translate, however, is how rare it is that my own translation ends up substantially resembling other people's translations. It's fascinating, because it shows just how creative an act translation is, though many people look upon it merely as grunt work. I would be very surprised if anyone ever translated a poem -- especially while preserving meter and rhyme -- only to find that they have somehow produced a translation that appears to derive directly from the translation of the same poem by someone else.

[Michael Juster]

Yes, I have been surprised by that.

I did come across one two-line translation of Martial by James Michie that was exactly the same as what I had done independently--so I changed mine, maybe for the better.

I agree, though, that I am surprised how rarely I come up against it.

I also agree with Alicia's advice of not looking at other formal versions until you have a complete draft.

[AZ Foreman]

What Peter Cole does for his collections of medieval Hebrew verse, because space is an issue and because reliable editions of the originals are not always easy for non-specialists to come by, is to put the original texts in a pdf file and include a url for a link to that pdf in the printed book.

[Max Goodman]

Thanks for responding to my question with your thoughts and experiences, Roger and Mike. Enlightening.

[Michael Juster]

Good luck!

[Andrew Frisardi]

But I would also consider putting the originals into an appendix instead of facing pages.

I have to disagree. Mainly because I used to think the same thing, then caught flack for doing it this way in my edition of the Vita Nova. Various people were irritated the text was not right there to look at against the translation.

Obviously it is a matter of taste, but for me, having the original right across from the translation adds a lot of pleasure to the experience of reading, since I enjoy seeing what choices a translator made and am a lot less likely to do that if I have to look in an appendix or online for the original.

At the same time, there's truth to what Roger says about printing the translation alone, without the original across from it, since it simplifies appreciating the translation for itself, when the translation is really well done. I've loved some books of poetry translation that did it this way.

In the end, although I think that both approaches have advantages, I'd opt for having the facing text.

[Douglas G. Brown]

I appreciate the appendix arguments, but when I was 10 years old, I collected the Red Rose tea cards, on animals and birds of North America. This tea was sold in both the USA and Canada, so the text was in both English and French.

After a while, I learned a good deal of French merely by reading these cards. (the first word, I recall, was canard). In high school French, I had a bit of a head start (though not as much as the kids who had French - Canadian grandmothers).

I favor the facing pages. The reader can cover the French text with a piece of paper if he likes, in the same vein of one not flipping to the last pages of a puzzle book to find the solution.
And, it's a painless way for a person not fluent in French to become better educated.