Some Things Do Not Translate

I’m grateful to have friends that read and share their books with me.

A few weeks ago, I borrowed the English translation of Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. It is translated from Japanese into English by Geoffrey Trousselot. The author Kawaguchi adapted the book from their play which won the 10th Suginami Drama Festival grand prize.

Some of you may confuse your Murakami (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and others – we all have our favourites ) from the Nobel prize and Man Booker prize-winning, Ishiguro (Never Let Me Go and others). Haruki Murakami is Japanese and writes in Japanese but also translates English novels into Japanese. He does not translate his own works into English. Kazuo Ishiguro, although born in Japan was raised in Britain since age five in a Japanese family. He identifies as British and writes in English.

I emphasize these things as I learn more about the challenges of translating a work not only into another language but also into another culture. Some things do not translate.

Since I can only read English and basic French novels, I rely on all those decisions that translators make about content, tone, style, rhythm and pacing. What about the cultural mannerisms and styles, directness, indirectness that are prevalent in each culture?  How does an author work with a translator? How does the translator apply all the implicit and explicit cultural nuances of the native culture into the translated culture? How deeply must a translator understand both cultures?

From the little I found out about Geoffrey Trousselot, the translator of Before the Coffee Gets Cold, his main works have been technical or business translations. (Linked In) Is this his first literary translation? His minimalistic detached tone and style suit the constrained environment of the café and the restrictions of the time travel.

The novel is contained in physical space of small café, called Funiculi Funicula. There are nine seats, one of which is permanently occupied by a character who did not obey the rules of time travel. The five rules of time travel which include returning to the present before the coffee gets cold also restrict the possibilities. The setting and actions feel like a one-scene play with four acts. The door chimes sound “Clang-dong” as characters leave and enter the café like a stage.

The story is constructed into four chapters, each a tale of desire to time travel to reconcile with a loved one. Through spare rituals and repetition, and detached prose we learn of the four losses that motivate time travel. Characters recur and develop over the four chapters. Our assumptions and prejudices are challenged as more is revealed about each of them and their constraints.

The present will not change. And even knowing they cannot change anything, the lover, the spouse, the sibling and the parent still choose to time travel. They choose to manage their regret by spending only the time it takes a freshly brewed coffee to cool with their loved one. I wanted to time how long it takes before a coffee gets cold but there are too many variables. I would have to make it in the exact way described in the book by the character, Kazu.

And while I would also like to try Seven Happinesses Saki that is served, it made me wonder where the name came from. Fukurokuju which means happiness in Japanese is also the name of one the seven lucky gods in Japanese mythology. (this was from a google translated website!)

The last story of the four chapters is the most moving perhaps because it involves a mother and a child. But also because after the previous three stories, the reader more fully understands the relationships among the small cast of characters and the cruel limitations of the time travel. The present will not change.

It was hard for me as a non-Japanese speaker to learn the names and identify the characters and their relationships (sisters, spouses, in-laws and so forth) as they were introduced and re-appeared in each chapter. Like reading my Russian novelists, I had to write out Kazu, Kumi, Kei, Yaeko and Kohtake. And the translation is faithful to the Japanese custom of using last names at times which is even more confusing as the characters are sisters, or sisters-in-law or married.

The main theme in this novel is regret, a horrible but unavoidable human emotion. And the four stories amplify the futility of trying to avoid regret. Management of regret requires reflection and forgiveness and perhaps wishful thinking about time travel.

Read here for Murakami’s thoughts on translating The Great Gatsby into Japanese. He talks about translation as necessarily ephemeral, like dictionaries and language itself. Translation is done in the cultural context of the time and the translator.

What’s New?

It’s hard me to think about The Great Gatsby without thinking of high school or Robert Redford or more latterly, Leonardo DiCaprio and Carey Mulligan. In the setting of the lapse of the American copyright to The Great Gatsby, I’m looking forward to reading the prequel, Nick by MF Smith.

And soon an Ishiguro release, Klara and the Sun which promises more of that dystopic after-burn of Never Let Me Go.

And for those of you in the Northern Hemisphere, I hope you are all enjoying the longer days.

Happy Reading and Writing.