In April, the translator baton goes to the hard-working translator Ursel Allenstein, who reveals what it has been like to live together with the characters from Johan Harstad's "Max, Mischa and the Tet offensive" for more than 1200 pages.
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’.
Ursel Allenstein was born in 1978. She took courses in Scandinavian Studies in Frankfurt and Copenhagen and, at present, lives in Hamburg. At first, she specialised in Danish but, according to her own account, the fact that she nowadays also translates from Norwegian has a special reason: it is thanks to a strong-minded teacher and the tireless tutoring and support from NORLA.
At the moment, she is working on the translation of Barnet, a novel by Kjersti Skomsvold (Hoffmann & Campe Verlag). Skomsvold is one of Ursel’s favourite writers.
Ursel, when did you decide to become a literary translator and what motivated you?
During my course in Scandinavian Studies in Frankfurt, we were offered the opportunity to try our hand at translating short pieces into German for an anthology. This came our way thanks to Uwe Englert, our language assistant at the time, and Isabel Kupski from the publishers S. Fischer Verlag. My set task was to work on a short prose text by Christina Hesselholdt and I took to it straightaway. Since then, I’ve been working quite hard to reach my goal of one day becoming a recognised translator. My contact with S. Fischer Verlag has lasted to this day and, meantime, I have translated two novels by Christina Hesselholdt – both gave me great pleasure.
If you had not decided to go in for translation, what might you have decided to do instead?
My secret love is long-distance running but I discovered it too late and, apart from winning 35 Euros, a cardboard trophy and a few other objects, the rewards have so far been limited. Besides, with increasing age runners steadily slow down and become more accident-prone. Hopefully that’s not the case for translators, at least not to the same extent.
You recently translated Johan Harstad‘s novel Max, Mischa und die Tet-Offensive (published in German by Rowohlt Verlag, so far unavailable in English). Stefan Pluschkat, a colleague of yours and a fellow citizen of Hamburg, has handed the relay baton to you. He is looking forward to an answer to his question for you: what was it like to live with Johan Harstad for more than 1248 pages?
‘Live with’ is very much to the point. I really felt that I had moved into the commune in the Apthorp building together with Max, Mischa and Owen and shared their lives and their sufferings (I actually felt tearful at times). Mostly, we had a good time together but just like real flat sharers they occasionally drove me crazy. Ever since we had to part company, I often think about them all as if they were people I had met in real life.
What do you think it was that made the novel so special and what were the most difficult things you came across while translating it?
I have already mentioned my growing sense of closeness to the characters but, apart from that, I feel that the novel is special because it deals with the creation of art and specifically speaks about the effort that has gone into the completed work of art: all the way, from the original idea to the preparation and research and then on to the often lengthy period of craft and punctilious attention to detail before it is presented. All the hard work that one ideally shouldn’t notice when the work of art or the stage play is finally shown (or heard, in Owen‘s case). As a translator, it is only too easy to identify with this element in the story. As for the translation, the toughest thing to deal with was probably the strung-out sentences that at times could run on over several pages. You might have thought that kind of sentence is typically German but in most instances I had to take them completely apart and reconstruct them in order to get anywhere near a German syntax.
Earlier this year, Rowohlt picked Harstad‘s Max, Mischa und die Tet-Offensive as its specially featured title. What did that mean to you, the book’s translator?
There is surely nothing sadder for a translator, who has worked passionately hard on the translation of a well-loved book, than to see it vanish unnoticed and unread in the vastness of the marketplace. For that reason alone I’m naturally very happy that the publishers and above all, the editor Diana Stübs, were so engaged in promoting Johan Harstad‘s novel. And I can hardly get my head round the fact that the book has the same title and even the same cover image and presentation in German and in Norwegian! It happens so rarely! Of course I wish with all my heart that their engagement will be rewarded and that very many German readers will read Max, Mischa und die Tet-Offensive. Already at this early stage I’ve had excited feedback both from the publishers and booksellers and that, too, is a rare thing to happen.
Are there places where you feel you can get on with work particularly well?
For me, the most wonderful place to work is the Baltic Centre for Writers and Translators on Gotland, the Swedish island. Being so far away from my daily routine, and in a room with views over the Baltic Sea and the cathedral in Visby, I am instantly filled with great calm and feel able to concentrate. My office in Hamburg’s Schanzenviertel is my second favourite place though maybe not in the loveliest of settings: from the outside it looks a bit murky but my room is almost sterile and free of unwashed dishes, dirty laundry and stacks of unread books (all that is waiting for me when I come home in the evening).
Have you come across any Norwegian word that you wish had a German equivalent? If so, please explain.
So, this one is not essential but all the same I would love to have good German word for ‚uteservering‘ (it means, roughly, street café but there is no perfect English translation either). Then there is a word that I think is much prettier in Norwegian. I came across it when I translated Kjersti Skomsvold's novel Jo fortere jeg går, jo mindre er jeg (The Faster I Walk, the Smaller I am, Dalkey Archive Press, 2013) and that is ‘pikekyss’ (Engl. girl’s kiss) – it means meringue.
To whom would you like to hand the translator’s baton? And which question would you like to have answered?
I would like to hand over the relay to Paul Berf and ask him how the translation of Karl Ove Knausgård's mammoth project has changed his life as a translator.
Translated from the German by Anna Paterson.