In this, the fifth relay, the baton is passed to Nora Pröfrock. She has completed courses in Scandinavian Studies and Literary Translation from English into German. Since 2011, she has translated fiction and non-fiction, poetry and books for children and young people, from English, Norwegian, Danish and Swedish. At present, she and Ina Kronenberger are working together on a translation of Carl Frode Tiller’s "Begynnelser".
Translators have made outstanding contributions to the worldwide success story that Norwegian literature has become today and we are deeply grateful to them. To cast 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 Norwegian into German. We have entitled the series ‘The Translators’ Relay Race’.
In this, the fifth relay, the baton is passed to Nora Pröfrock. She has completed courses in Scandinavian Studies and Literary Translation from English into German. Since 2011, she has translated fiction and non-fiction, poetry and books for children and young people, from English, Norwegian, Danish and Swedish. At present, she and Ina Kronenberger are working together on a translation of Carl Frode Tiller’s "Begynnelser" (The first two volumes of Carl Frode Tiller’s trilogy Encircling have been translated into English by Barbara Haveland, Sort of Books (UK) and Graywolf (USA), 2015 and 2018).
When did you decide to become a literary translator and what motivated you?
I have actually been translating since my fifth year at school, when I had to learn my first foreign language. At the time, the language was Latin, for reasons I now cannot fathom. From the start, we had to translate short narrative texts in writing. Two years later, English entered the curriculum. I developed my knowledge of it mainly by translating song lyrics but with only limited access to dictionaries and so forth, so the results were rather weird. Generally, I have always enjoyed working out the German words that represent texts in other languages. All this added up to a career choice by the time I had almost finished the course in Scandinavian Studies. We took a seminar on Applied Cultural Communication organised by Karin Hoff, our very committed professor. We had been working in small groups on translations of extracts from books by Brit Bildøen, Christina Hesselholdt and Steve-Sem Sandberg and discussed our tasks. Finally, we arranged and presented readings from selected works by these authors. One day, Paul Berf came along to tell us what the day-to-day working life of a translator was like for him. The examples drawn from his book reports have been my models for years. I got to know Gabriele Haefs at a NORLA Seminar in Rendsburg and she is another source of many valuable hints. Even so, it did take a few more years before I got my first commission. Then it finally came, after I had completed a short course on ‘Literary Translation from English’ in München. Since then, I have done nothing but translate.
Where are you normally when you work on translations?
I have a study at home and have also been allocated a desk in the Writers’ Room in the House of Literature in Bergen. Desks are not always available but for anyone who writes for a living it is a wonderful opportunity to have a private place of work without any attached costs.
My home isn‘t usually as untidy as on the photo but my belongings are still mostly inside packing cases because I‘ve only recently moved house.
You have translated several works in collaboration with colleagues. What are the advantages and disadvantages of working together with another translator?
I feel that juggling delivery deadlines is among the biggest challenges in the life of a translator. It happens all the time for some reason or other: projects are delayed or start earlier than planned, a dream project that you feel you mustn’t refuse materialises just as you have accepted undertaking work on another book. Now and then, there are inevitably lulls when nothing happens and you worry where the next job will come from. Sometimes, your private life might throw you off course and you end up facing a mountain of work that seems impossible to cope with. In all such cases, a supportive colleague is a true blessing. Besides, there’s always the worry that, in a solitary job like translating, you easily could end up – as it were – stewing in your own juice.
By doing co-translations I seem always to be learning something new and, above all, if there’s enough time left before the delivery deadline for us to edit each other’s work thoroughly. But if that is not possible in the timeframe, it is still helpful if the two of us can check word lists with each other. Even when I’m the sole translator, I actually like to be in constant touch with colleagues. The best solutions are most often arrived at simply by collaborating – it’s an experience I keep having all the time.
How do people working in translation manage the balance between being competitive and prepared to support others?
When all is said and done, I can only be sure about what I feel. To me, being part of a network of colleagues is so important and enriching that consideration for them is my highest priority. Naturally, it’s impossible to be aware of everybody’s interests and, yes, it has happened that a text has landed on my desk that probably would have suited someone else better. That is at least partly due to the publisher not informing me properly but all the same, I have been cross with myself that I wasn’t more alert and failed to stay on the safe side by consulting more widely. To have lasting good relationships with my colleagues is in the long run much more valuable than getting the odd, short-term commission. Besides, I’m positive that, fundamentally, there is enough work around for all of us.
What kind of translation do you prefer – if any? How would you define the difference between working with fiction and with non-fiction?
What appeals to me most about a text is that the writing is driven by genuine impulse to create insights into another world. Or, more concretely, that the writer is committed to the work and the words make a coherent whole and speak to me. This can be the case whether it is literary fiction or non-fiction. The woollier and vaguer the book, the harder the translator’s task.
Last year, I translated the children’s book Alt som teller (Everything That Counts) by Ingrid Ovedie Volden. It was truly greatest fun I’ve had translating. At first, the book seems straightforward but, at the same time, it is so wise and the language is so full of joy that, after a while, one simply falls for it. The German title is Unendlich mal unendlich mal mehr (Thienemann). It got some very nice comments, which of course pleases me a great deal.
Which Norwegian books are especially close to your heart?
I’m such a great fan of Vigdis Hjorth. The recent Arv og miljø (Wills and Testaments by Vigdis Hjorth, English translation by Charlotte Barslund, Verso, 2019). impressed me deeply – I read the book at a febrile speed and, since then, I have devoured all the books by her that I have been able to lay my hands on. I become entranced by her multifaceted approach to writing, the way she always cross-references to other books or works of art or philosophical ideas. At the same time, she writes with such an underlying sense of humour. All along, she offers you choices – it’s always ‘do or die’ in her plots.
By now, you have been living in Norway for a few years. Your colleague Christel Hildebrandt passed the translator’s baton on to you, with a question: she would like to know if not living in the target language area might be a cause of problems with work.
Problems are mostly just practical. For instance, I can’t simply go to the library round the corner to search for quotes in German. In such cases, though, I ask for help from my much-loved network of colleagues (I cannot praise them enough). Since I came to live in Norway, I’ve also had to expend a bit more energy on administrative things (keeping accounts in two currencies, tax exemptions to ask for, now for the third year). And because I’m not in daily contact with my target language, my false-friend alarm (“False friends” for a translator are similar-sounding words in source-and target language that turn out to have different meanings, e.g. Engl. ‘become’ and Ger. ‘bekommen’ meaning ‘receive’) is triggered much more often. I’m more anxious that I might overlook something in a hurry. But, fundamentally, I’m not at all concerned about my German. My husband is a German and is sensitive to language. Also, we are part of a small enclave here in Norway and I ogle the news casts on a daily basis.
To whom would you like to pass the baton? And what question would you like answered?
I’ll hand the translator’s baton on to Stefan Pluschkat, who has specilaised in Swedish literature and whose translation of Lina Wolff’s De polyglotta älskarna(The Polyglot Lovers by Lina Wolff, English translation by Saskia Vogel, And Other Stories, 2019) was recently singled out for the award of the Hamburger Promotion Prize for Literary Translation 2018. The news is that we have managed to complete our first joint project, a translation from Norwegian. When do you feel that you might have reached the limits of your capacity as a translator? Do you believe that there are situations or concepts that are just about impossible to translate? Or is it only a matter of being creative enough?
Translated from the German by Anna Paterson