In 2012, I was visiting Xi'an in central China where the famous Terracotta Warriors of the Qing Dynasty (221-206 BCE) are encamped. I found the warriors fascinating, and the guest notice regarding the rules of Golden Flower hotel, where I was staying, equally fascinating.
'If you are stolen, call the police at once!' exhorted the notice, and warned that 'Dying right here is prohibited'. An injunction to avoid walking on the lawn assumed a lyricism worthy of Wordsworth, 'Do Not Disturb - Tiny Grass is Dreaming'.
I recalled these and other delightful diversions of 'duolingualism' on reading a recent report that has created a storm in the literary salons of Paris, occasioned by a French publisher of romantic fiction, such as Passion pour un Inconnu (Passion for a Stranger), who is in talks with an AI company to make translations cheaper and faster than by employing humans.
The 27-nation EU, with its 24 official languages, is a hub of textual translation and oral interpretation, which provides employment to thousands of people. Professional groups have reacted by calling the proposal to bypass human resources in building lingual bridges 'unacceptable' and 'outrageous'.
Indeed, a 2024 British Society of Authors (SoA) survey has noted that more than one-third of the country's translators have been pink-slipped, thanks to AI. According to the report, 'All point a finger to the indiscriminate use of language technology, in particular AI, to cut costs and replace or minimise human translation work.'
Industry watchers claim that computer-generated movie subtitles have greatly improved the accuracy of rendition by replacing human translators. As the founder of a German AI company prophesies, 'The change will be profound.'
However, despite Sartre's grumpy assertion that there are no good translators, only dandies who write like butchers, and butchers who dip their pens in eau de cologne, with AI taking over the translation business, what's gained on the swings of sense might be lost on the roundabout of risibility.
If proof be needed that two Wongs can make a write, a Chinese ad for an American brand of fried chicken whose slogan is 'It's finger lickin' good' rendered that zestful inducement to a cannibalistic command of 'Eat your fingers'--which gives a new meaning to 'finger foods'.
Sounding a funereal note, another Chinese ad for an American cola, which urged consumers to 'Come alive with the Pepsi generation', in a literally high-spirited translation interpreted this to mean that the beverage 'brings your ancestors back from the grave.' A Spanish promo for an American beer that enjoined customers to 'Turn it loose' gave would-be buyers runs for their money by assuring them that they would 'Get diarrhoea.'
Presidents, no less than publicists, are subject to vagaries of vicarious verbalisation as Jimmy Carter discovered during a 1977 goodwill tour of Poland. In the course of a public address, his American interpreter transformed POTUS' eagerness to 'understand your desires for the future' to 'I desire the Poles carnally,' providing an example of one's words unwittingly being lust in translation.
If topsy-turvy translation is accorded a Hall of Fame, pride of place in it must be given to Pedro Carolino who, for reasons known only to himself, embarked on a project to compile an English phrasebook, English As She Is Spoke, for Portuguese readers, undeterred by the minor obstacle of his being almost totally ignorant of the Anglo-Saxon tongue.
The work, published in 1855, became an international best-seller. In his introduction to the 1883 American edition, Mark Twain saluted it by saying, 'Nobody can add to the absurdity of this book, nobody can imitate it successfully, nobody can hope to produce its fellow; it is perfect.'
A section titled 'Idiotisms and Proverbs' contains helpful homilies such as 'Take out the live coals with the hand of the cat', 'The stone as roll not heap up not foam', 'There is not better sauce than who the appetite', and the utterly inimitable and impenetrable, 'To craunch a marmoset'.
No LOL, please. It might wake the tiny grass from its dreaming.
'If you are stolen, call the police at once!' exhorted the notice, and warned that 'Dying right here is prohibited'. An injunction to avoid walking on the lawn assumed a lyricism worthy of Wordsworth, 'Do Not Disturb - Tiny Grass is Dreaming'.
I recalled these and other delightful diversions of 'duolingualism' on reading a recent report that has created a storm in the literary salons of Paris, occasioned by a French publisher of romantic fiction, such as Passion pour un Inconnu (Passion for a Stranger), who is in talks with an AI company to make translations cheaper and faster than by employing humans.
The 27-nation EU, with its 24 official languages, is a hub of textual translation and oral interpretation, which provides employment to thousands of people. Professional groups have reacted by calling the proposal to bypass human resources in building lingual bridges 'unacceptable' and 'outrageous'.
Indeed, a 2024 British Society of Authors (SoA) survey has noted that more than one-third of the country's translators have been pink-slipped, thanks to AI. According to the report, 'All point a finger to the indiscriminate use of language technology, in particular AI, to cut costs and replace or minimise human translation work.'
Industry watchers claim that computer-generated movie subtitles have greatly improved the accuracy of rendition by replacing human translators. As the founder of a German AI company prophesies, 'The change will be profound.'
However, despite Sartre's grumpy assertion that there are no good translators, only dandies who write like butchers, and butchers who dip their pens in eau de cologne, with AI taking over the translation business, what's gained on the swings of sense might be lost on the roundabout of risibility.
If proof be needed that two Wongs can make a write, a Chinese ad for an American brand of fried chicken whose slogan is 'It's finger lickin' good' rendered that zestful inducement to a cannibalistic command of 'Eat your fingers'--which gives a new meaning to 'finger foods'.
Sounding a funereal note, another Chinese ad for an American cola, which urged consumers to 'Come alive with the Pepsi generation', in a literally high-spirited translation interpreted this to mean that the beverage 'brings your ancestors back from the grave.' A Spanish promo for an American beer that enjoined customers to 'Turn it loose' gave would-be buyers runs for their money by assuring them that they would 'Get diarrhoea.'
Presidents, no less than publicists, are subject to vagaries of vicarious verbalisation as Jimmy Carter discovered during a 1977 goodwill tour of Poland. In the course of a public address, his American interpreter transformed POTUS' eagerness to 'understand your desires for the future' to 'I desire the Poles carnally,' providing an example of one's words unwittingly being lust in translation.
If topsy-turvy translation is accorded a Hall of Fame, pride of place in it must be given to Pedro Carolino who, for reasons known only to himself, embarked on a project to compile an English phrasebook, English As She Is Spoke, for Portuguese readers, undeterred by the minor obstacle of his being almost totally ignorant of the Anglo-Saxon tongue.
The work, published in 1855, became an international best-seller. In his introduction to the 1883 American edition, Mark Twain saluted it by saying, 'Nobody can add to the absurdity of this book, nobody can imitate it successfully, nobody can hope to produce its fellow; it is perfect.'
A section titled 'Idiotisms and Proverbs' contains helpful homilies such as 'Take out the live coals with the hand of the cat', 'The stone as roll not heap up not foam', 'There is not better sauce than who the appetite', and the utterly inimitable and impenetrable, 'To craunch a marmoset'.
No LOL, please. It might wake the tiny grass from its dreaming.
(Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this column are that of the writer. The facts and opinions expressed here do not reflect the views of www.economictimes.com.)
Jug Suraiya
A prominent Indian journalist, author and columnist.