I would have entitled this "Actually Lost in Translation" but I'm not certain I haven't already used this phrasing for another blog post.
March 29-April 1 in Vernon, Haute Normandie there was a Salon du Livre - a fancy book fair, with authors from this year's chosen theme of Nordic countries: Finland, Sweden, Norway, (and my book) Denmark. P-baby's mom, who is involved in the organization of Vernon's salon du livre every year, asked Emily and I to participate as interpreters back in January and we graciously agreed to the task, knowing it was a kind of honor to be considered up to the job, and also believing 4 months would be plenty of time to prepare. Were we wrong? No. Were we right? ...Iiiiiiiiii'm not so sure.
The author I was assigned to was Erling Jepsen, whose first book The Art of Crying (L'art de pleurer en choeur) is an autobiographical story about his family. In the late 60's while Mr. Jepsen was a young boy of 11 years old, his family experienced a series of tumultuous events. First accepting and battling the knowledge of his father's incestuous (the father would describe it as deeply romantic) relationship with his daughter Sanne, her subsequent mental fragmentation, the death of various townfolk (including their grandmother), Sanne's institutionalization in a mental hospital, and Allan's (Erling's) coping activity of raising rabbits in the mean time. It's an incredibly well written book from the 11 year old's perspective, especially considering all the abhorrent topics discussed in its pages. An account written from an adult perspective would be so disgusting, difficult, and depressing but from a child's point of view it leaves the reader room to question, analyze, and accept these events, as he had to do. A child doesn't judge as an adult judges. So we're able to follow the storyline simultaneously through the child's eyes as well as our adult interpretation. It's a good read which has won several prizes and been made into a Danish film.
It was my job to interpret the Danish author's responses from English (at one point he forgot himself and answered in Danish!) to French for a question and answer period of about an hour. There were 3 other authors there as well, two of whom spoke French and answered for themselves, and another Finnish author for whom Emily translated.
I like speaking in front of crowds. I find I do it well, even if I do get nervous. IN ENGLISH. The idea of speaking in French, ridiculous errors and misinterpretations of questions and all, is absolutely terrifying!! And also incredibly exciting. To sum up the event, it went well. Aside from my author speaking for literally minutes on end, and then expecting me to meticulously interpret all of that into French (without a note pad, mind you) I would say I correctly interpreted about 80% of what he said. And P-baby generously estimates the audience understand about 90% of what I said. So that's good! Really, I was never aiming for 100% comprehension for the audience members because I'm a realist. 90% is A-Okay! The fact that I'm not remotely certified to act as translator for anyone but was still given this great opportunity to stretch and expand my experience is wonderful and I'm thankful I was thought of, and also that I didn't completely fuck it up. Woohoo!
Afterward I bought his book and got his signature, along with another signed book by a different author. The whole experience got me thinking. Would I want to be an interpreter? A translator? Does Hollywood need more French language interpreters for red-carpet events, à la the Oscars 2012? Not so sure. But I'm getting closer to knowing what it is that I want to do after June 2013 when I will find myself once again at a crossroads.
Meantime, I'm totally adding this to my resume.
