In the fourth leg of the relay race for translators, the baton goes to Christel Hildebrandt.
Translators and their outstanding work have made Norwegian literature the worldwide success story it is today and we are deeply grateful to them. To shine a light on their demanding work and get to know the individuals better, we have initiated a series of interviews with the men and women who translate from the Norwegian into the German.
Christel Hildebrandt has been working as a translator for more than thirty years, which surely qualifies her as an ‘old hand’ – someone who knows her way around the business. Thanks to her, German readers everywhere can immerse themselves in the worlds of the characters in Lars Saabye Christensen‘s novels. They can become acquainted with, for instance, Jon Ewo, Bjørn Ingvaldsen and Maria Parr, who all write books for children and young people. They can also rediscover in her translation some of the works by the old master himself: Henrik Ibsen. Not to speak of Amalie Skram … At present, Christel is once more working on a book by Lars Saabye Christensen: it is the first volume in a trilogy about life in Oslo during the 1950s.
Please tell us a little about your background. When did you decide to devote yourself to translating literature and what motivated you?
Originally, I wanted to become a sociologist but, later on, I studied German and also acquired a teaching qualification. Meanwhile, I grew increasingly enthusiastic about literature, and completed a doctoral thesis on women writers in the GDR – but I also learnt Norwegian for reasons of my own. It so happened that Gabriele Haefs had also joined language courses at the university in Hamburg (at the time, it was not possible to take Scandinavian Studies as a degree subject and, sadly, that is still a fact); thanks to her, it dawned on me that translating could be an intriguing thing to do. She challenged me at least to have a go. When I happened to came across Beatles by Lars Saabye Christensen, I absolutely wanted to translate it – just that book, in particular. After three years of looking for a publisher in Germany, I finally found one, a one-man show called Popa Publishing. The owner responded and simply decided to trust my judgement that it was an extraordinarily brilliant book!
As an ‘old hand’ in the publishing business, are you usually asked to pronounce on books and pick those you consider potentially interesting? Or do you feel that, from time to time, you have to translate a book that you perhaps don’t like all that much?
Nowadays, it is less common than it used to be for me to write reader’s reports for publishers and others. Still, now and then, I discover exceptional writing which is somehow close to my heart, and which I am happy to recommend. But it is of course inevitable that I sometimes have to carry on translating a work even though it does not thrill me all that much. Such criticisms tend to become clearer as I work on the text. It often turns out to be a crime story that has been praised to the skies but doesn’t actually fulfil one’s expectations.
Which translation from the Norwegian have you found especially satisfying? Or, maybe you feel that there are several?
Obviously, Lars Saabye Christensen’s books come to mind – most of all. I have been working with his texts since 1988, translated almost all his books and always feel especially happy about his writing because I believe that, by now, I know his language and his style so well that my ways with language have almost merged with his – and it is always such a joy to work with him. However, there are others that I like tremendously, for instance the books by Maria Parr. Come to think of it, I could make a list of people who have made translating a terrific experience and it would include just about all the writers I have ever worked with.
Of course, you translate not only from the Norwegian, but also from Swedish, Danish and even Faroese. How come that you have also acquired these other language skills? And, after all the years of working as a translator, have you arrived at a conclusion about what characterises the literature from the different countries and the ways in which they differ from each other?
Norwegian is – and will always be – my main foreign language. That is why I never try to talk to people in one of the other Scandinavian languages: I fear it might come out as just one big muddle. It was one of my editors who urged me to try Swedish, and written Danish is rather similar to written Norwegian. As for Faroese, well, it began as a choice driven by the ambition to learn another language, but one not too distant from those I already knew. Once I had started, I fell in love with the islands and with Faroese literature. Anyway, it is true to say that, when I’m translating, I barely notice which source language I’m using so presumably a switch in my brain has been flipped, somehow.
As for the distinctions between the literatures in the different languages, I could launch into a complete seminar talk on the subject. Generally, though, I think it’s enough to look at the history of the respective nations to realise how very different the roots of their literary writing must be.
Do you ever get round to reading for your own pleasure? And, if you do, can you get away from your work or do you busy yourself with translations done by your colleagues?
Nowadays, I can once again allow myself the time to read around and that includes German literature. In the past, there were periods when I read hardly anything except Scandinavian books. But one thing I only rarely do is to read translations by colleagues. I would naturally prefer the original and, on the few occasions when I do choose a translation, I often catch myself trying to work out how a passage would have read in the original and how I would’ve translated it. That is why it is hard for me to focus of the text as it stands and one reason why I’m reluctant to read translations done by colleagues.
You were handed the translator’s baton by your colleague Maike Dörries. She wanted you to answer this question: “For a long time now, Christel, you have been intensively engaged in the training of emerging translators. What is it about this kind of work that gives you particular pleasure?”
Over the years, this has become ever more important to me. I am fascinated by the young people with all their very different reasons to take up translation. They bring so much distinctive experience and knowledge and such varied interests to the work. Also, in each case, I’m on the look-out for new talents – and, every time, I’m amazed at the wealth of ability I find to help develop and support. And, once done, I can lean back in my armchair, satisfied at the thought that this or that translator in the new generation once attended my seminars. That‘s a good feeling.
In more immediately practical terms, what are the challenges for the new generation? And what advice for the journey ahead would you give to young translators, or to those who are toying with the idea of taking that road?
Every year for the last eight, I’ve run a four-day seminar in Nordkolleg Rendsburg (an institute in Schleswig-Holstein), which I gratefully acknowledge is supported by NORLA. It is aimed at young translators who are about to reach the end of their years of study or perhaps already have had some practical experiences of translating. I always invite a writer to collaborate with us as we work on his or her texts, and present the results at readings. The seminar topics don’t focus just on the textual aspects but also on practical matters of the marketing kind: how do you get in touch with publishers in both the source- and the target-country? And once you are engaged, what are your rights and your duties? What assistance is there, and what for? All these issues are not necessarily dealt with in the university courses. You know, it’s such a wonderful feeling when I later meet one of ‘my scholars’ with a personally translated book to show.
Actually there are three pieces of advice that I keep offering to emerging translators:
1. The most important thing to remember is that you must know your native tongue really well. It might sound totally obvious, but even though you can look up most things, the underlying instinct for your own language simply must be there to guide you;
2. Be honest. For instance, don’t try to get on by composing untrue reports or by slandering someone. Anything like that is bound to come back and haunt you.
3. Patience, patience, patience. It is a long, slow road to follow before you become known as a translator. But if it is what you really want to do, it will be worth the effort.
To whom among your colleagues would you like to pass the translator’s baton? Perhaps you would particularly like to pick a young emerging translator from the German scene. Whoever you choose, what would you like to ask him or her?
I would like to nominate Nora Profröck. And what I would like to ask her is: What are the problems you have to cope with when you don’t live in the country of your target language?
Read Nora's answer here.
Translated from the German by Anna Paterson