The other day an anonymous reader mentioned the dilemma of translating 椒鹽櫻桃 as "salt and pepper frog legs" at a Chinese restaurant: "....that to me is not translation."
The following statements are all TRUE:
椒鹽 = salt & pepper
櫻桃 = the cherry
椒鹽櫻桃 = salt & pepper frog legs
One doesn't need to know how to read Chinese to realize that something's not right in the equations above. Basic pattern recognition tells us that they don't add up.
I know where you're coming from, dear reader. 椒鹽櫻桃 literally says "salt and pepper cherries." (Why, even Google Translate says it's "salt and pepper cherry" as of now!) So even though you correctly inform that this dish is salt and pepper frog legs, you probably feel guilty about shortchanging your friends and depriving them of the opportunity to learn how this name came about.
I used to have a similar issue in doing English to Chinese translation. (I hope I've gotten much better since then!) The main theme of the feedback from editors was: I had no trouble understanding the source material, but had more difficulty than others in getting the meaning across in an economic way. I'd spend time dissecting each sentence, simply to make sure nothing got lost. But we all know that the whole is never the sum of its parts. This is especially true in translation.
Let's look at the restaurant scenario: As the only Chinese speaker in a group going to a Chinese restaurant, you are asked to "translate" the daily specials written on the whiteboard in Chinese characters.
Unless this is a field trip for a Chinese class at a less-than-busy restaurant, the best way to "translate" the menu is always the quick-and-dirty version: "salt and pepper frog legs" for 椒鹽櫻桃, "pork blood and tofu" for 紅白豆腐, etc. The group needs your translation to make an informed decision on what to order. We don't want our friends to be surprised when the food shows up: "I thought you said there were cherries in this dish!"
Once the business of food-ordering is out of the way, though, do feel free to share the naming trivia behind those dishes. If nothing else, it at least makes for interesting conversation, especially if some of the people in the group have shown interest in such topics. So, while you're waiting for the food to arrive, casually mention that the characters 椒鹽櫻桃 literally mean "salt and pepper cherries" and the name came about because cooked frog legs bulge and look like cherries. Or that the characters 紅白豆腐 literally mean "red and white tofu" because the pork blood is sliced into the same size as tofu, making the dish look like bicolor tofu.
The way I look at translation is: it informs. A translator's job is to find out what kind of information the audience seeks, then provide that piece of information. While ordering food at a Chinese restaurant, the piece of information needed is "what kind of food will I be getting if I order this?" The naming of these dishes is interesting knowledge, but would most likely make ordering a longer process than desired. Reserving it for later (say, while waiting for the food) not only saves time, but will probably be better appreciated by the audience as well as the people waiting behind you.
Please translate responsibly.
No comments:
Post a Comment