Thursday, May 8, 2008


After my last post, I thought something less pensive might be in order.
I wonder how many translators might ever enjoy a tipple whilst working.

Of course I’m referring to those ”freelancers” amongst us who work from the comfort of their homes, not from some enclosed coffin-like “workplace” under the stern guidance of the latest project manager.

Some believe we toil away in our pajamas, imbibing pots full of caffeine, juggling work with endless whining complaints or feckless cat fights on the various Portals. Not I. Full makeup, fetching dress, Manolos if I could ever afford them.

Let me be the first to publicly admit that, yes, I have, on occasion, enjoyed some liquid pleasure while hard at work. I’m not speaking of the tossing back of a few shots of Jameson [which I reserve for bedtime], but rather leisurely sipping a moderately priced yet respectable Cabernet Sauvignon.

It was a number of years ago when I would occasionally, but regularly, be confronted with 3000 words of intellectually demanding literary work. The deadline, self-imposed but necessary, was “5 minutes ago.”

It was not a timeframe with which I would ever be comfortable, given the nature and import of the work involved. I had been translating the gentleman in question, almost every day, for years. And, as anyone who has done such work will understand, I had come to know him. How he thought, what his referents were, his history and his words.

It was, in fact, a kind of osmosis, a necessary merging of two minds.
And, for me, the slow sipping of a bit of Everyday Red seemed to help that process, a small homage to the right side of my brain, a recognition that translation, like most that is good in the world, is not all Logos.