My literary hero, the Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiong’o, once said that for most writers (and publishers), heaven is divided into French, German, Spanish and English. Since 2014, when he delivered that speech, a powerful stream has opened another gate into paradise. This force, which has always operated in the building blocks of knowledge, but not properly recognised for what it is, he described as the language of languages: translation.
Heaven now has more than four lanes. Through this medium flows the novelty of experiences from translated languages. A bit of a shock to the literary system which still has some difficulty accepting even the possibility that there might be riches stored in languages other than what a European heaven has to offer.
Aime Cesaire (poet and politician from Martinique) said that language contact through translation was “the oxygen of civilisation”. Both Ngugi and Cesaire refer to the capacity of translation to build, to connect, to renew meaning and life — in short, to create. Where would the giants of world literature be without translators and their skills? We experience second-hand, what the translator did first-hand as she internalised and travelled with the original experience into the target language.
Relocking the jigsaw
A suite of artistic processes are called for: code-cracking by grinding vocabularies hostile to each other, the occasional gentle rain of intuition bringing relief and euphoria, followed by a slow relocking of a jigsaw puzzle in the target language. The picture, perfectly clear in the original, has to be interpreted and reassembled in the target language from a dizzying maze of choices. The best salute to translation comes from Ambai who, in quoting Sangam-era Tamil exponent Idaikadar on the Thirukkural (he said that stating profound truths in two lines is like piercing a mustard seed and pushing seven oceans through it), elevated the act of translation to a sublime effort.
There are several editions of the Bible today, all translations from the originals in Hebrew, Aramaic and Koine Greek. | Photo Credit: Getty Images
This opinion is still disputed territory in the kingdom of literature because a noisy camp (which includes writers whose translators piggy-backed them to fame outside their languages) does not see translation as anywhere near the equal of the original. I need to only say this to prove the opposite: check the list of religious texts translated. Quite often, these surpass their originals in influence. As far as Christianity and Buddhism are concerned, translations have practically replaced the originals.
For Indians with their diversity of mother tongues, language emancipation is vital because political conflicts invariably pick up social and linguistic overtones as they are weaponised and sent into battle. Mutual incomprehension is our natural state! At his first glimpse of a South Indian feast, a native of Bihar wondered how anyone could eat a paan as large as a banana leaf. No wonder Paul Zacharia said that the oneness of Indian literature and tradition is a myth. “A reasonably book-and-literature-friendly person like me cannot access Ananthamurthy or Mahasweta Devi unless I read translations… What’s all this about oneness? The sooner we accept that we are Many, and most probably will remain so, the better for our interconnectivity.”
Language as a tool of conquest
Amidst the language rows that erupt from time to time it is important to remind ourselves that no language is intrinsically superior to any other. Even a national language, touted as useful for purposes of communication, must not be built on the gravesite of other languages. Since language control has always been at the centre of imperial conquests, let us not forget the damage that language oppressions the world over have done. In the colonial occupation of Korea, that is what the Japanese did when they imposed their language and even their names. Native Americans, as well as the natives of Canada, New Zealand and Australia, bowed to the dominant English or Spanish. Hawaiians nearly lost their language because it was banned when they were absorbed into the U.S. It was restored only in 1978.
To ignore the importance of the language of languages would be to invite catastrophe. | Photo Credit: Getty Images/ iStock
What the world with its innumerable pockets of conflict needs is a network of relationships built on the bridges of language. In what way has the technology of the last two decades empowered the average peace-loving citizen whose voice is growing fainter by the day? On the other hand, senior leaderships everywhere — monolinguals all, orchestrating chaos to their personal profit — are doing the opposite of what their nations need.
In its power to decentralise monolingualism and subvert a monolithic view of the world, translation is essential for humankind. A Translation for Peace programme in higher education is an urgent need, particularly to counter the force of social media to spread rumours, to divide and to fabricate conflicts.
To ignore the importance of the language of languages would be to invite catastrophe.
The writer coordinates a translation project for the Tamil Nadu Textbook and Educational Services Corporation.
