(Ernst-August Gutt, Summer Institute of Linguistics)
Abstract
This paper builds
on the relevance-theoretic account of communication. It attempts
to show that the question whether a textual feature of the
original should be represented in the translated text as a
"communicative clue" depends on a) the intentions of the
original communicator and b) the translator's notion of what his
or her task is. Regarding the impact of the translation, it also
depends on how well the translator's intentions match the
expectations of the audience.
The
nature of communication
This study builds on the
conviction that human communication essentially relies on
inference. More specifically, I start from the relevance theory
of communication developed by Sperber and Wilson (1986/1995).
According to this theory, communication can and often does
involve the use of codes, such as human language, but ultimately
inference overrides coding. This is part of our everyday
experience. We often can correct a communicator's slip of the
tongue on the basis of "what makes sense". "Making sense"
crucially involves inference. Thus even if a person asks us
quite distinctly to pass them the "toffee", under certain
circumstances we may be almost completely sure that they
actually want coffee and that's what we'll pass them. Thus
inference can override what is linguistically encoded.
Textual
properties and Communicative clues
According to inferential accounts of human
communication, a text is a verbal stimulus designed by the
communicator in such a way that the audience can infer from it
what the communicator intends to communicate. Put a different
way, the communicator builds properties into her text that will
lead
the audience to the intended interpretation.
In Gutt 1991 such properties were referred to as "communicative
clues" (Gutt 1991:127). As was pointed out there, the notion of
"communicative clue" is not essential for a relevance-theoretic
account of translation. On the other hand, this notion has been
found helpful by a number of people and there was a request to
say more about it here. The main purpose of this paper will be
to emphasise that for "communicative clues" to be helpful tools,
other aspects of the whole communication process need to be
carefully considered.
The
"meaning" of the original text
One basic point the
translator needs to remember is that the notion of the
"interpretation intended by the communicator" in itself demands
careful consideration. On the one hand, there is not necessarily
a sharp dividing line between what a communicator did and did
not communicate; rather, information can be communicated with
varying degrees of strength, moving along a cline from strongly
communicated to not communicated at all, with no breakpoint in
between.
On the other hand, the
expression "communicated" needs to be handled with care. The
primary focus of relevance theory as developed by Sperber and
Wilson (1986, 1995) and as applied to translation in Gutt (1991)
is a particular kind of communication, called
"ostensive-inferential communication", sometimes shortened to
"ostensive communication". This is probably the richest form of
communication in that, as Sperber and Wilson point out, it "may
have social implications that other forms of information
transmission do not [have]" (Sperber and Wilson 1986:62). It not
only transfers information, but creates a mutual awareness
between the communication partners of what has been communicated
between them. It brings about "… a change in their possibilities
of interaction and in particular, in their possibilities of
further communication" (Sperber and Wilson 1986:61f).
Information I have ostensively communicated to you, I can assume
as shared between us from then onward.
Here is an illustration of
the potential social difference between awareness and
mutual awareness. This is an incident the author experienced
in a restaurant. One of the guests ordered soup with a sausage
in it; when trying to take the sausage out of the bowl onto his
plate, it slipped and dropped on the table. The author noticed
it but quickly looked away. When the man had managed to pick up
the sausage from the table and put it on his plate, he looked
around if anybody had noticed his mishap. The author gave no
indication whatever that he had noticed.
Now, he could have done so,
perhaps by a brief smirk on his face, or by staring at the spot
on the table where the sausage had dropped. Had he given such an
indication, that mishap would have become
part of the mutual cognitive environment of the author and
the other guest, and most likely that would have
changed their relationship: realising that the author had
noticed that the guest had dropped the sausage on the table, and
also that the author had noticed that he had noticed that the
author had noticed this, there could easily have been
embarrassment between the two persons. In the event, the
author's discretion prevented a mutual awareness and there was
no embarrassment. So, mutual awareness can make a difference to
social relations.
However, as Sperber and
Wilson point out, information can be transferred between people
without the necessary creation of mutual awareness.
Suppose the communicator happens to feel angry with her
audience. Though she might not want to show her anger and hope
that it went unnoticed, the audience may still have picked it
up, perhaps from voice quality, intonation, facial expression or
body language. In such cases the audience would be aware of the
communicator's feelings, but the communicator would not have
intended them to be; she might not even realise that they did
pick up her feelings. Hence there would have been a transfer of
information without the establishing of mutual awareness. In
fact, the communicator could have denied her anger, if
questioned.
The amount of information
conveyed incidentally rather than ostensively can be large. One
can often tell from the way a person talks what educational
background they have, the social group they belong to, what kind
of audience they believe they are talking to, perhaps the
geographical region they come from, their emotional state,
whether they are short-breathed, have a cold or not, and other
kinds of information. Very often the communicator may neither
intend to convey all this information nor even be aware of its
accessibility. How much of this information the audience
actually picks up will very much depend on their mental
alertness, intellectual capabilities and experiences.
It may seem tempting to set
up some kind of typology of information to distinguish what is
ostensively communicated from incidentally transferred
information. We might, for example, assume that the semantic
contents of verbal expressions are usually part of what is
ostensively communicated, but that the more "associative"
aspects of meaning - register, connotation, dialect etc. - fall
under incidental information.
However, such a typological
approach would not work. Take, for example, a novel where the
writer portrays one of his characters speaking a certain
sociolect. At the level of the writer, the features
characterising that sociolect are certainly meant ostensively:
the reader is meant to notice those features and to use them in
his interpretation of the novel. At the level of the story
itself, however, that is, from the viewpoint of the person
in the story, these features would be incidental.
Since the same set of properties can be ostensive at one level,
and incidental at another, a typological distinction between
ostensive and incidental textual properties will be doomed to
failure.
The distinction rests rather
upon the intentions of the communicator. It is,
therefore, part of the communicator's task to make her
intentions in this regard mutually manifest, so that the
audience can arrive at the intended interpretation.
As always, the accessibility
of the right contextual information plays a key role for
inferring the communicator's intended meaning. Imagine the
following situation. A colleague comes to you and tells you, in
a broad Yorkshire accent, that the manager of the company wants
to see you. Now let us assume two different cases.
Case A:
It is mutually known by you and your colleague that he is from
Yorkshire and that he always speaks with this heavy accent.
In this case, you might
notice the accent - though you might not, if that is the way the
person normally talks - but assume it to be incidental and of no
significance to the intended meaning of your colleague.
Case B:
It is mutually known by you and your colleague that he normally
speaks standard English, but that he is good at imitating
dialects. It is further mutually known that the manager
speaks with a broad Yorkshire accent.
In this case, you would
probably notice the accent; knowing that your colleague does not
usually speak with that accent, you would have to conclude that
he is using it intentionally on this occasion, and you would
look for its relevance. Since he mentioned the manager,
information about that person would be highly accessible, and
you could reasonably expect that your colleague expects you to
use that information for interpreting his message. You would
probably interpret his use of the accent as a parody, either
friendly-funny in intent, or possibly mocking or derogatory,
depending on your colleague's relation to the manager. Of
course, the colleague may give further evidence of his
intentions by some facial expressions, but not necessarily so.
Thus, what is acoustically or
phonetically the same utterance, with the same textual
properties, can lead to rather different interpretations,
depending on the mutually manifest context, which is important
for working out which of those properties are to be taken as
"communicative clues".
Note that in case B it is
possible that the utterance of your colleague is practically
identical with what the manager actually said to him. So your
colleague could not be accused of having distorted the manager's
message by inaccurate reproduction. There is a
distortion, but it resulted from the accurate reproduction of
incidental features, which were irrelevant to the
intended meaning of the original message, and therefore must be
relevant in some other way.
If one were looking only at
intra-lingual communication, one could simply say that
communicative clues are a subset of the textual properties that
are significant for the intended meaning. There would not be any
difference in essence between a textual property
and a communicative clue.
Communicative
clues in translation
However, the situation
changes when considering cross-lingual communication, and this
is where it seemed helpful to form a more abstract concept than
textual property. The reason is that languages differ in the
inventory of linguistic features or properties they have; hence
property A of language X may simply not be found in language Y.
Nevertheless, one can very often find some means B in language Y
that achieves the same or at least similar effects as property A
did in language X, assuming identical contexts. Properties that
can be linked in this way are referred to as corresponding
"communicative clues".
Take, for example, the
pronominal distinction of gender, which is so common in
Indo-European languages but does not exist in the Finnish
language. This lack of gender distinction in Finnish can
sometimes be compensated by the use of a noun that does include
information about the gender of the referent. Thus, at a place
where the gender marking in the English pronoun she
is important, one could, for example, use the Finnish noun
äiti '(the) mother' which would make the gender
clear, instead of the gender-neutral pronoun hän.
The
handling of "communicative clues"
Turning to translation
itself, here are a couple of examples.
A premier's resignation
The following example is
given by Brain Mossop (1987) in his article "Who is addressing
us when we read a translation?" He compares two translations of
a note, written in French by René Lévesque, former Prime
Minister of Quebec, on the occasion of his resignation.
Version A:
I would appreciate if you
could transmit for me to the National Council this simple
message: Thank you from the bottom of my heart, thanks to you
and to all those, who will recognize themselves, and who have
not stopped for so many years paying with their selves and their
pocketbooks in order to build, implant, maintain this project
which is so healthy and democratic and which we have designed
together for our people.(Mossop 1987:11)
This English translation was
given in the Globe and Mail newspaper. Version B
was apparently produced by Mossop himself to illustrate the
"idiomatic" type of translation:
Version B:
I would appreciate if you could transmit this message to the
National Council for me: Thank you from the
bottom of my heart. My thanks to you personally and all those
men and women, - they know who they are -
who have for years been devoting their energies and their
pocketbooks to the task of building, and
maintaining a healthy and democratic road to the future, a road
which together we have laid out for the people of Quebec. (Mossop
1987:11f)
Interestingly, when
evaluating the two versions, Mossop prefers version A because it
avoids two problems he sees with version B. In the first place,
"… Canadians will have heard Lévesque speaking English on
television and they will know that … Lévesque does not speak
English idiomatically" (Mossop 1987:12). Therefore, such
"readers might wonder whether the 'voice' they are 'hearing' [in
version B, that is E-AG] is that of the same person they have
heard on television" (Mossop 1987:12). Version A, by contrast,
"… captures (perhaps not always successfully) Lévesque's
thought process - not just the force of what he
says - and by its unusual language it avoids assimilating
Lévesque to English-Canadian culture" (Mossop 1987:12).
The second problem is,
according to Mossop, that "… this resignation is a historical
document, and its translation should therefore indicate
something of the author's personal style" (Mossop 1987:12).
Partial analysis using
"communicative clues"
Applying the notion of
"communicative clues" to this example, we could speak of the
differences between versions A and B as differences in
communicative clues. More specifically, these clues are present
in version A, but missing in version B. The table below provides
a summary of these "clues" and their significance, as perceived
by Mossop.
|
Clues in version A
(lost in version B) |
Significance/relevance |
|
1 who will recognize
themselves |
Odd expression in
English |
|
2 implant |
Emotional involvement |
|
3 'build' and
'maintain' have an object that does not 'go with' them |
Odd expression in
English (unusual collocation) |
|
4 paying with their
selves |
Emotional involvement
(notion of self-sacrifice) |
|
5 juxtaposition of
three clauses without conjunction |
Abnormal grammar |
|
6 our people |
Emotional involvement
(identification) |
Clues (1), (3), and (5) are
all "odd" English; clues (4), (2), and (6) might be said to make
version A emotionally more expressive than version B, though (4)
may also be judged at least unusual for ordinary English.
Comments on the "message" of
version A
As mentioned earlier,
"communicative clues", are properties built into the text to
guide the audience to the intended interpretation. Clues (1),
(3), and (5) lead the audience to infer that the English of the
communicator was odd. According to Mossop, this is the very
inference that should be conveyed, in order to avoid
"assimilating Lévesque to English-Canadian culture" (Mossop
1987:12).
The problem that Mossop does
not discuss, however, is that the original message was in
French, not English, and that it was perfectly idiomatic French.
Hence if there was anything that the original audience could
infer about the speaker's language competence, it was that he
mastered French; there was no clue about his abilities in
English whatsoever. It is therefore clear that the communicative
clues (1), (3) and (5), giving evidence about Lévesque's
problems with English, were introduced by the translator alone;
they had no base in the French original, and certainly did not
support its originally intended meaning.
Evaluative comments
How can one evaluate such a
practice? The most obvious question to ask is whether such
practice is legitimate for a translator qua
translator to carry out. This question is notoriously difficult
to answer because it all depends on what one takes translation
to be, and there simply is no consensus on this concept. What
one could do is try to find out which notions of translation
would support such practice, and which would not. Though an
interesting study of an encyclopaedic nature, it would not
necessarily help any translator deal with the issue.
Another, perhaps more useful,
evaluation - and this is the one to be pursued here - could
examine how successful the translator would be likely to be in
communicating this particular information to the audience. Since
that is the point of providing such clues, this kind of
evaluation seems to be only fair. So the question to ask is what
kind of inferences the audience would draw from these clues.
Like with all inferences, the premises, that is, the contextual
assumptions, that enter into them are of considerable
importance. So let us examine the influence different contexts
would be likely to have on the interpretation of version A.
Case 1
Assumed context:
The knowledge of Lévesque's problem with speaking idiomatic
English is highly accessible in the audience's mind.
Interpretation:
When reading version A in the newspaper and noticing the
unidiomatic expressions, they would most likely infer that this
was another instance of Lévesque speaking English. That is, they
would probably consider the text to be a verbatim quote of what
the politician had said or written in English.
Evaluation:
The translator's intention of reminding the audience that
Lévesque speaks unidiomatic English would have been fulfilled,
but it would have been accompanied by a wrong conclusion about
the circumstances of this act of communication.
Case 2
Assumed context:
Like in case 1, the knowledge of Lévesque's problem with
speaking idiomatic English is highly accessible in the
audience's mind. In addition, they happen to know that Lévesque
wrote his note in French, and that therefore the newspaper
version must be a translation.
Interpretation:
When reading version A against this context and noticing the
unidiomatic expressions, the audience could only attribute these
expressions to a translator; attribution to Lévesque would be
excluded by their knowledge that he wrote this message in
French.
Turning therefore to the
translator's involvement, two different lines of further
interpretation would be possible. One line would start from the
assumption that the unidiomatic expressions were
unintentional, that they were slip-ups by the translator.
This would probably lead to dissatisfaction with a seemingly
incompetent translation. In this case the translator's intention
of using the clues to remind the audience of the politician's
poor English would be lost.
The other assumption could,
however, be that those expressions were intentional. That is,
the audience could assume that the translator could have written
idiomatic English but purposely chose to deviate from it.
Processing non-standard language expressions requires more
effort than processing standard ones, and so the audience would
expect the translator to have intended to communicate to them
more than standard language could have done. (This follows from
the principle of relevance, believed to be operative in
ostensive-inferential communication.)
What could this extra
information be? Again, there would be different options. One
option would be to assume that the non-standard language was
necessary to bring out subtleties in the meaning intended by the
original speaker which would have been lost by idiomatic
expressions of English. People familiar with translation matters
would probably make this assumption quite readily. In the
current text, however, no such additional bonus-meaning seems to
be available: virtually the same contents could have been
communicated in natural English.
So, if the reward for the
additional processing effort did not lie in a richer
understanding of the original meaning, then what other
additional meaning could the unidiomatic expressions serve to
provide? At this point the audience would perhaps take a wider
look at the whole communication process, thinking of the
speaker, the surrounding circumstances etc. They might notice
that the unidiomatic expressions resembled those used by
Lévesque when speaking English. Hence they could conclude that
the translator had used the non-standard expressions to draw
attention to Lévesque's inadequate mastery of English. (Note
that ordinarily these interpretation processes operate
sub-consciously; we are not usually aware of them.)
Whether they would accept
this interpretation as the intended message from the translator
would partly depend on their notion of "translation". As a
general policy, it seems rather odd to expect that the
translation of someone's speech should reflect the original
communicator's knowledge of the target language. This could lead
to ridiculous or even unintelligible renderings, depending on
the original speaker's ability in the target language, and one
wonders what the translator should do if the original speaker
had no knowledge of the target language at all. In many contexts
it would also raise serious questions of propriety since the
deliberate imitation of mistakes in someone's speech tends to be
shunned by society as mockery.
At the same time, it seems
the language ability of politicians in Canada was a topic of
public interest. Perhaps this is the key to Mossop's concern.
Version B appeared to present Lévesque speaking idiomatic
English - which was contrary to fact and therefore, Mossop felt,
had to be corrected. Presumably there were others who shared his
concern. The size of this group would determine the degree of
success such a translation could count on in the receptor
community.
Comments on the "message" of
version B
Turning to version B, we are
dealing with communicative clues (2), (4), and (6), all of which
were arguably present in the original. In number (2), the
metaphor of enraciner, 'implant', is lost
altogether. The rendering devoting their energies
is emotionally less expressive than the original payer
de leur personne, and pour notre peuple clearly
shows that the speaker identifies himself with the cause of
Quebec, whereas for the people of Quebec fails to
show this identification.
What is interesting in this
particular example, is that version B is Mossop's own work, and
one wonders why in version B he combined the choice of idiomatic
English with the omission of those expressive clues. This is
certainly not a necessary combination - one could well imagine a
version C which did use idiomatic English while at the same time
maintaining the clues to the emotional involvement of the
original speaker.
From what Mossop says, his
choice seems to have been strongly influenced by two distinct
stereotypes: one was that of a French-speaking politician with
certain strong sentiments for Quebec and a French accent, and
the other of an English-speaking politician, leading one of the
English-speaking provinces, who would have idiomatic English but
no strong sentiments for Quebec.
I think within the scope of
this paper, we shall have to leave it at that, though it would
no doubt be fascinating to further explore the intricacies of
political sentiments in Canada, which we find exerting subtle
influences even on everyday translation matters.
A look at the Schocken Bible
In 1995 a new translation of
the Bible into English, the Schocken Bible,
appeared, prepared by Everett Fox, a professor of Jewish studies
(Fox 1995). In the words of Natalie Weinstein, Fox believes that
"… too many translations already try to "spoon-feed" the Bible
by using everyday, modern English that makes the reader feel
comfortable. In Jewish tradition, however, studying Torah isn't
supposed to be easy." (Weinstein 1997)
So, Fox himself characterises his purpose as follows: "Our
approach is that the Bible is difficult and something that must
be wrestled with. (…) This tries to give … a taste of what's
there." (Weinstein 1997)
The approach
Fox's approach was inspired
by the translation of the Bible by Martin Buber and Franz
Rosenzweig into German. These Jewish scholars were disturbed by
the fact that the existing translations of the Bible were
"pulling the 'contents' of the text over into another language,
not necessarily abandoning a priori the peculiarities of the
elements, structure and dynamics, but abandoning them too easily
where the brittle 'form' seems to hinder the passing on of the
contents" (Buber 1954:4; translation my own, E-AG). To this
practice Buber objects: "As if a genuine message, a genuine
saying, a genuine song contained a 'what' that could be detached
from the 'how' without damage, …" (Buber 1954:4; translation my
own, E-AG). No message can be completely transferred from one
language to another, but the translator must try to approximate
as best he can, "getting as close as the limits of the language
into which he translates will allow; but to these limits the
translator needs to penetrate" (Buber 1954:7; translation my
own, E-AG).
In this spirit, Fox translated Genesis 1,1-3 as follows:
At the beginning of God's
creating of the heavens and the earth when the earth was wild
and waste, darkness over the face of Ocean, rushing-spirit of
God hovering over the face of the waters -- God said: Let there
be light! And there was light. (cited in Weinstein 1997)
One of the major principles
that would distinguish Fox's translation from most other
contemporary translation efforts is his explicit commitment to
concordant translation,
because, following Buber and Rosenzweig, he believed that the
repetition of the same Hebrew word was important for making
connections or for establishing a theme.
For example, forms of the
word avod, or "serve," appear throughout the book
of Exodus. The Israelites must serve the Egyptians; they become
"serfs," which is the word Fox uses instead of the traditional
translation of "slaves." Later in the story, Moses uses the root
word "avod" in another context, asking the Pharaoh
to free the Israelites so they can serve God. That wording, Fox
said, shows the transition of the Israelites from serving humans
to serving the Divine. (Weinstein 1997)
So here is another instance
where the translator uses unidiomatic expressions in the target
language as "communicative clues". Yet there are some important
differences to Mossop's case. These differences arise from
differences in contextual knowledge.
First of all, it seems highly unlikely that the target language
audience would assume that the original might have been written
in English by someone with a less-than-perfect command of the
language. More likely, English readers would naturally attribute
the noticeable "oddities" of English to the translator, and they
would again have the choice of taking them either as accidental
slips or as deliberate. Since Fox is rather explicit in
explaining his purposes, the careful reader would have to accept
them as deliberate, and it would also be clear that the oddities
are meant to contribute to the intended interpretation rather
than provide information about the original writer.
Evaluative comments
What about the prospects for
the success of Fox's translation - success in the sense that it
will convey to his audience what he intended to communicate to
them through it?
From a relevance-theoretic point of view, the use of unidiomatic
expressions means that the translated text demands more
processing effort from its audience than a rendering using the
words, grammar and idioms of English in their normal way. In
order for Fox to succeed, the audience must a) be able to make
sense of the translated text, b) have access to the contextual
information which Fox had in mind and which will yield the
promised gain in understanding, and c) be willing to invest the
additional effort needed for a) and b).
Interestingly, the expenditure of this additional effort is one
of the main effects Fox aims at; as he said, he wants to give
the English reader "a taste" of the fact that "the Bible … must
be wrestled with" (as cited in Weinstein 1997).
Reactions seem to indicate
that some people meet these conditions and share Fox's taste.
Thus David Noel Freedman, a professor of Hebrew biblical studies
and editor of the Anchor Bible Series, comments: "It's a very
fresh approach. I'm surprised it worked" (as cited in Weinstein
1997) Similarly Nahum M. Sarna, a professor emeritus of biblical
studies, who also worked on the Jewish Publication Society's
revised translation, writes: "It's extremely useful conveying,
to those who don't know Hebrew, the sense of the original" (as
cited in Weinstein 1997).
Others apparently fail to
meet those conditions. Rabbi Chaim Stern, himself a translator
from Hebrew into English, finds that it is "not a workable
proposition. … English doesn't like that kind of structure. It
isn't native to English. It's native to Hebrew." (as cited in
Weinstein 1997) It seems to me that Stern has a point here, if
one considers the following. Granted that the interpretation of
the Torah is not an easy matter, even in the Hebrew original,
there is however, an important difference to Fox's English
version because in his translation the difficulty is often
linguistic, resulting from unusual or even ungrammatical English
constructions; for the Hebrew original, however, that is
certainly not the main problem, though linguistic problems do
arise from textual corruptions and the like.
Furthermore, one suspects
that, contrary to Sarna's evaluation, it will mostly be readers
who already know Hebrew who will recognise Hebrew structure
behind the distortions of English, but surely they are not
really the ones who will need Fox's translation for that
experience.
Robert Alter, professor of
Hebrew and comparative literature, calls Fox's text a "bold and
admirable" effort but objects that "The English too often seems
strange", an impression which he sees in conflict with the
"magnificent, literary Hebrew" of the original (as cited n
Weinstein 1997). This comment shows, that for this critic the
approach is mistaken because it fails to lead to the conclusion
that the original version of the Bible was of high literary
quality.
That is also a concern when
considering the purpose of preserving communicative clues
present in the original: the Hebrew writers certainly did not
compose their texts in order to communicate an awkward use of
language. So, again it seems that the clues the translator chose
are not in line with the intentions of the original author.
So, one suspects that the
group with whom Fox succeeds will be small compared to those who
prefer English translations which are more readable, even if
they lose some aspects of the original meaning. It is difficult
to estimate what the overall balance of gain and loss is, and
Fox himself concedes that "… his method sometimes loses the
nuances found in other translations" (as cited in Weinstein
1997).
Lessons from the examples
What can we learn from this
study with regard to "communicative clues" and their use in
translation?
First of all, in translation
"communicative clues" need to be considered at two different
levels: the level of the original communication process and the
level of the translator communicating with her target audience.
Secondly, the identification of "communicative clues" at neither
level is necessarily clear-cut or simple. This is partly due to
the nature of ostensive communication, which allows for
indeterminacy, and partly due to the practical problem of
working out the particular intentions of the communicator in a
given instance of communication, especially when there are
differences in the assumed contextual information.
Thirdly, the relationship between these two sets of
communicative clues touches on the essence of translation. Most
contemporary translators would probably agree that their
primary, if not their only task, is the expression of clues
found in the original that will help the target audience recover
the originally intended meaning. Other translators would want to
include communicative clues that give access to information
about the communication act - e.g. about the speaker or the
nature of the original language - even if these clues were not
intended or not even present in the original.
Fourthly, the preservation of communicative clues from the
original may increase the processing effort, for example, by
leading to unnatural or unidiomatic expressions in the target
language. The translator will have to carefully gauge whether
for her particular target audience this additional effort will
be rewarded by additional benefits. Where this is not the case,
the translator has no reason to expect success in her
communicative effort with that particular audience.
In conclusion, this means
that the notion of "communicative clue" cannot be used in
translation in any mechanical way. It requires a good
understanding of the inferential nature of communication. I
therefore suggest that the translator should check her purpose
in translation against the following three questions:
1)
What
does the audience expect from the translation?
2)
Do
they have the contextual information (background knowledge)
required for the intended interpretation?
3)
Can
they be expected to invest the effort necessary for processing
the translated text?
References
Buber, Martin 1954 'Zu einer Verdeutschung der Schrift'.
Supplement to Buber and
Martin 1954.
Buber, Martin and Franz Rosenzweig 1954 Die fünf
Bücher der Weisung, Köln und Olten: Jakob Hegner.
Fox, Everett 1995
The Schocken Bible: Volume I -- The Five Books of Moses;,
San Francisco Jewish Community Publications Inc., dba
Jewish Bulletin of Northern California.
Gutt,
Ernst-August 1991 Translation and relevance: communication and
cognition Oxford: Blackwell.
Mossop,
Brian 1987 'Who is addressing us when we read a translation?'
TextconText vol. 2, pp. 1-22.
Sperber,
Dan and Deirdre Wilson 1986 Relevance: communication
and cognition. Oxford: Blackwell (2nd edition 1995).
Weinstein, Natalie, 1997 'New
Torah translation: a radical approach' (e-mail communication,
July 1997)