In June, the translator batton goes to the brilliant translator Ina Kronenberger, who recently visited NORLA's translators hotel in Oslo. In the interview she tells, among other things, what this stay has meant to her and why she has a very special relationship to the works of Per Petterson.
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.
Ina Kronenberger was born in 1965 and translated numerous books from French and Norwegian. Among the many Norwegian authors she translated are Linn Ullmann, Per Petterson, Stian Hole, Hanne Ørstavik and Erika Fatland. She is currently working on Dag Solstads novel "16.07.41".
Dear Ina, when did you decide to work as a literary translator and what were your reasons for making that decision?
The decision to become a literary translator seemed an attractive to me when I was a student because I had taken several courses in Translation Studies and found how much fun could be had from messing around with words and sentences. Also, I realised how content it made me feel when I arrived at a translation that read well, to my eyes and ears at least. Above all, it was satisfying to see all the single sentences fitting together in a convincing whole.
Are there certain kinds of book that you particularly enjoy translating and, conversely, are there books you are reluctant to work on?
I very much prefer to translate books that offer me new ways of understanding and still have more to give, even after the third, fourth and fifth round of scrutiny. As the translator I have of course to read the same text at least four times – often more, perhaps as many as eight times – and after all these repeat readings it can happen that the book gets on your nerves. The kinds of books that remain enticing throughout all that are, in my view, great literature.
However, when a book fails to hold my attention, or when I feel that the style of writing lets it down, I prefer to leave it alone. Quite apart from the fact that I would agonise while working on it, I think it would unfair to it. My experience tells me tastes vary so greatly among us literary translators that every book has the right translator – and deserves it.
You don’t only translate from the Norwegian but from the French. What kind of challenges does translating from two such different languages entail?
For one thing, it is essential to keep up with what is happening in two countries: to be aware of current events and discussions, what is stated officially and what the new linguistic developments are. However, the second aspect is that I find working with two such different source languages is really enriching. My work is transfer text into German and I often find that I hang on to one language as I translate and can’t dislodge already established constructions from my mind. Then it can be helpful to use translation into another language to let me play around with solutions I otherwise wouldn’t have thought of. For instance, the French are more varied and so more inspirational when it comes to expletives as well as words that express affection. By the same token, Norwegian‘s minimalistic strictness can have the effect of disciplining one’s expression and that can be a positive influence when one is dealing with more flowery French texts.
Which Norwegian book are you working on just now and what is it about?
At the moment I preoccupied with a book by Dag Solstad with an unusual title: 16.07.41. It is the day the author was born and makes the reader expect an autobiographical account. Rather surprisingly, the author has instead turned himself into a fictional character. It is clear that he will not tell us the history of his life but intends to create a work of fiction out of his personal reflections and experiences. In 16.07.41, Solstad is playing games with the novel genre. The author actually comments on what he writes in footnotes to the narrative, rather like an academic text. The footnotes vary in length and include distorted text fragments, metapoetic notes as well as anecdotes and bits of additional information.
You have recently worked together with your colleague Nora Pröfrock on the translation of Carl Frode Tiller‘s Begynnelser (not yet published in English). How do such collaborations begin, how do they work out in reality and what are the advantages and the disadvantages?
I got to know Nora Pröfrock years ago at a translation seminar where I had a first hand opportunity to learn of and be amazed by her tremendous talents as a translator. It was more or less just a matter of time before some kind of collaborative work would get under way. I had been on the lookout for someone to work with on the translation of Frode Tiller’s book and because Nora had time to spare, I was delighted that she agreed to join me in this project. Dividing the text between us was actually straightforward, though that isn’t always the rule for literary works. We arranged it so that we would each translate a defined part of the book and then read each’s other’s versions.
The advantage of sharing a book translation is that you are not alone when it comes to dealing with problems and also that you can cheer each other up. The obvious disadvantage is that doing half the work means getting half the pay.
In May this year, you were a guest in the ‘translators hotel’ in Oslo. Why do such opportunities to stay in Norway matter to you?
It is impossible to reply to your question in just a few sentences. I did have expectations of my stay offered to me thanks to NORLA and backed by funding from the German Foreign Office. I found that my expectations were exceeded and in such a way I simply can’t put it briefly. But I’ll try to summarise nonetheless. My two weeks were of course full of opportunities to meet writers and people from publishing houses but also many other treats: visits to cultural events and chances to wander in Oslo, as it were, in the footsteps of some of my writers whose books are set in the city, to speak and listen to Norwegian for two whole weeks and to familiarise myself again with Norwegian customs, including joining in the National Day celebrations, to get to know new, exciting colleagues (we were four people who benefited from a stay in the Hotel for Translators)and – last but not least – to have a place to work where I could find out more about NORLA at close quarters. I came to appreciate the sheer scope of the preparations for Norway’s spell as Guest of Honour in Frankfurt. In short: I make a heartfelt wish that all my colleagues should be able to enjoy a similar stay!
Are there one – or several Norwegian words that you wish had German counterparts. If you think there are – what are they, and why?
There are several Norwegian phenomena that don’t translate properly into German because they simply aren’t part of normal German life. It is true for instance of certain foods (geitost, lefser, kransekake, solbærtoddy, prim, rømmegrøt), and also for events and objects such as russefeiring, dugnad, niste, vinmonopol and so on. It can be hard to deal with words that combine within them several concepts and have no German equivalents e.g. slå ut med armene, å være oppgitt. If I were to write a little Christmas wish-list for Father Christmas, the [German versions of these] words would be near the top.
What do you do when you are not actually at work on literary translation?
To lead a more balanced life I like doing sports. I’ve been playing volleyball for many years now. I need physical activity to recharge after an intensive phase of translation work. But I’m sociable, too, and enjoy being with people. The ideal is when I’m on the move among friends: out cycling or walking or playing indoor ball games.
Your colleague Paul Berf handed you the translator’s baton with a question for you: he’d very much like to know what Per Petterson’s writing means to you and also how translating his books has affected you?
I discovered the writer Per Petterson during a period of study in Oslo in the 1990s, and was very pleased when, in 1997, I had a chance to recommend his novel Til Sibir (To Siberia, translated by Anne Born, The Harvill Press) to the Carl Hanser Verlag. This novel was actually my debut as a literary translator. As a result, I have a very special feeling for Per Petterson and his books.
I got to know the author during the work on his next novel I kjølvannet (In the Wake, translated by Anne Born, Harvill Secker, 2002). We prepared a presentation of it in a particular Oslo bookshop because the story begins at its front door. As part of this occasion, Per Petterson took me to the different locations where scenes in his book take place and I spent a very enjoyable, fun-filled afternoon with him. Which was far from what I had expected since I had thought I’d meet up with a melancholic writer.
Petterson‘s writing has provided us with some truly precious works of literature, characterised by a powerful narrative drive and scenes that imprint themselves into your mind and remain for a long time. He is indeed an author I feel I can trust blindly. Every one of his words is meaningful and there for a reason. Even though his writing can be hard to translate, for me anything by Petterson is a highlight – it feels a little like coming home and still, when you do, experiencing something new.
To whom among your colleagues would you like to hand the translator’s baton and what would you like him or her to tell you?
I would like to hand the translator’s baton to Hinrich Schmidt-Henkel.
I first met Hinrich Schmidt-Henkel at the beginning of my career as a translator, more specifically at a seminar for novice translators from the French. To my total astonishment, he greeted me with a welcoming phrase in Norwegian – ‘Velkommen hit’. It felt like bonding in a way. What he taught throughout that seminar has stayed with me and affected my work for ever after. Since then, we have met again in a whole variety of contexts. In a sense, Hinrich a constant presence in my life as a translator.
My question for Hinrich: For many years by now, you have translated from several languages. Is there still something about this profession that can surprise you?
Translated from the German by Anna Paterson.