Translating Agony...
...or the agony of translating
These are some thoughts I had while watching kdrama on Netflix.
Usually, I make sure to turn off the subtitles because I'm fortunate enough not to need them, and I find them terribly distracting. However, I am not always afforded that luxury when I am watching with other people. So, here are some thoughts I had about translating/subtitling while watching The Interest of Love (사랑의 이해).
First of all, let me offer a bow of respect to all those doing the hard work of translating non-English language TV shows and movies, especially those coming from cultures very different from the West. This is a difficult task, and at times an impossible one - maddening, frustrating, thankless - done for little pay, and done under pressure, and motivated by love. Let’s give these people their props.
In my very humble opinion, certain fundamental rules should apply when it comes to the art and science of translating, the most important rule being:
1. The character’s intent, not the literal meaning of the words, should be translated. This applies even when the literal meaning is easy to translate (example below).
Other principles:
2. If the dialogue is ambiguous, awkward or just plain nonsensical, the translator should do their best to reflect that ambiguity, awkwardness or idiocy. If the original Korean screenwriter is a hack, it is not your job as the translator to make the writing better. You are the translator, not the editor. Stay in your lane. Reflect the hackiness.
3. Be as concise as humanly possible, even if this means the grammar is awkward. You are conveying a thought or an emotion, and you should do this as briefly as possible. You are not writing prose, you are writing speech. No-one wants to dwell on your words. And I think we can all agree that the viewer would rather be looking at Kim Ko-eun or Park Eun-bin than giant wedges of black-and-white letterbox covering up half the screen (additional note - if someone is endlessly repeating the same word, you don't have to subtitle it every time they say it. For example, when someone is calling out a name while they search for a missing person. Admittedly, this is more a production/editing issue than a translation one, but the general point I'm making is simply that the fewer subtitles the better).
4. Subtitles are not the place for explications. Viewers may not know what a matsun (맛선) is, or what a pojangmacha (포장마차) is, but subtitles are not the place to explain all this. Just write “pojangmacha.” Viewers are smart enough to understand (somewhat) from the context and the visuals, and if they really want to, they can look it up. I am not completely wedded to this rule, given that people know how to use the pause button. But if you feel that explanations are absolutely necessary, they should be very brief (see Rule 3).
5. When all else fails, just give up. Don’t make up stuff. Think about how annoyed you would be if you were the writer and some translator was taking liberties with your work, conjuring things out of thin air. (see Rule 2 about staying in your lane). If the character is making obscure references or spouting 말장난 (word play), just write [UNTRANSLATABLE]. Some of us will respect you for it.
Here is some fairly typical dialogue from The Interest of Love.
Female Lead: 그 때, 처음 여기서 보자고 했을 때, 무슨 애기 하려고 했어요?
Male Lead: 좋아한다고. 만나고 싶다고. 나랑 사귀자고
This was how it was translated:
Female Lead: That day... The first time you wanted us to meet here... What did you want to tell me?
Male Lead: That I liked you. That I wanted to ask you out. That I want to be your lover.
The translation of the female character's dialogue is pretty good. 그때 is translated as "that day..." which I think is the right thing to do (see point 1). You could quibble a little bit with the fact that the translator went with "What did you want to tell me?" rather than "What did you want to say?" The latter is a shorter sentence, and conveys the open-endedness of 무슨 애기 하려고 했어요. "What did you want to tell me" seems too precise in its intention. But this is a minor issue and, I admit, verging on pedantry.
However, the translation of the male character's dialogue is atrocious.
좋아한다고 is translated as "That I liked you." This is something you see a lot in kdramas when, during the flitterings and flutterings of courtship, one character will say to her or his love interest, "좋아해요." This is inevitably translated as "I like you." This is *wrong*. It changes the meaning of what the character is trying to say (see point 1). In English, "like" and "love" are mutually exclusive. If you like someone, you - by definition - do not love them (note to Korean readers: if an English-speaking person you are interested in tells you that they "like" you, this is not good news. In fact, this is very bad news). In Korean, "love" and "like" are not mutually exclusive. If you like someone, you are on the road towards love. By declaring, 좋아해요, you are saying to the person that they are inside a very small circle of people who have the potential of becoming someone that you will come to love. Love is a circle inside the circle of like. In this sense, 종아해요 (the mistranslated "I like you") is a more important declaration than 사랑해요 (I love you), because you are confessing to the other person that they have crossed the threshold from a person not of romantic interest to one who is. In the West, love is seen as a pinnacle but also as sui generis, and this is not the same in Korean culture where love is something of an inevitable consequence of like, an inevitable progression. Why would anyone think this is true? I imagine it has to do with the notion of 애정 (never mind - I'm not going down that rabbit hole).
I have seen kdramas where 좋아해요 has been translated as "I love you." This is also incorrect, but I have some sympathy for the translator. They are at least acknowledging the difficulty that exists here.
Personally, I believe that 좋아해요 should be translated as "I have feelings for you." Anything that conveys romantic attachment without an actual, full-blown, declaration of love.
만나고 싶다고 is translated as "that I wanted to ask you out." This is a bad translation because the English phrase is ambiguous. You could argue that the following sentence: 나랑 사귀자고 is probably a closer approximation to "that I wanted to ask you out." The translator probably meant, "that I wanted to meet you" or "that I wanted to see you again or "that I wanted to be with you." But "that I wanted to ask you out" is too close to "that I wanted to go out with you" which can have an entirely different meaning. This leads me to believe that the translator is a native Korean speaker not entirely familiar with the nuances of the English language (I don't believe there is ever a perfectly bilingual speaker. Everyone is more comfortable using one language over the other).
나랑 사귀자고 could be translated as "I wanted to ask you out" or "I wanted you to be my girlfriend" or even "I wanted you to be mine" (see Rule 3). It was translated as "That I want to be your lover." This is wrong for two reasons. First, there is a change in tense (from wanted to want) which implies that this is something he wants now. And the word lover overtly declares a sexual meaning that isn't there in the Korean - and sounds creepy when it's supposed to be sincere. Somehow a declaration has morphed into a proposition.
Moving to the other end of the emotional spectrum, the word 새끼 is difficult to translate (I wrote a piece about the current Korean president's forays into 쌔끼-Land). But I don't think there is a single, universally-applicable word in English that corresponds well to 새끼, and it all depends on the context of what is being said. Like the word *asshole* in English (does the word actually conjure up an image of that part of the human anatomy?), 쌔끼 is such a common word that it has lost any real meaning , and you can ignore it altogether. For example, if someone says 이 또라이 깥은 새끼, you can just write "You moron." I don't think you lose anything by ignoring the 새끼 part. You could add some other words for emphasis, but they seem too localized - bloody moron (too British), goddamn moron (too American), fucking moron (may be too strong). Perhaps one could make the case for Netflix offering up localized translations?
Perhaps the greatest challenge when translating from Korean to English is the formal/familiar forms of address, the 존댓말/반말 distinction. This is a perennial problem, and one that will never go away.
Incidentally, does 존댓말 exist in English? It sure does! But it is much more subtle, whereas in Korean it is overt and codified.
An aside - here is something I wrote about 존댓말 usage in English (for those of you reading this who are bilingual):
(한국사람들은 영어가 존대말이 없다고 생각하시는 분들이 많이있는데 그것은 오해입니다)
애를들어서:
영어 - I’m terribly sorry but do you think you might excuse us?
한국어 - 나가
영어 - When you have a moment, do you think you could work on that project that we discussed?
한국어 - 해
영어 - I’m really sorry to bother you, but I do think you should begin working on that project.
한국어 - 해
영어 - I really must insist that you prioritize that project.
한국어 - 빨리해
영어 - I’m sorry to say that your tendency to procrastinate is really quite unfortunate.
한국어 - 야 뒤질래?
The use of honorifics vs the familiar form of address conveys a lot of information about relationship between people without having to say anything overtly. This is very convenient for Korean screenwriters because they can quickly establish relationships between characters. If you know Korean, consider Character A saying the following to Character B:
왜 반말 이야
왜 반말 해
왜 반말 하세요
왜 반말 하십니까
You can learn a great deal, and very quickly, about the relationship between two characters simply by how they speak to each other (and, it goes without saying, in life as in fiction - e kdrama ad vitam). I should add that these different forms of address are not subtle or nuanced. Every Korean speaker would understand the differences, and do so without thinking about it, but I don't know how you would even begin subtitling it (hence, Rule 5). But non-Korean speaking fans of kdramas should understand that if things are unclear, or that things are happening way too rapidly and you're thinking - "Oh my God, how could she know xyz? What is she a mind-reader?" - it probably has something to do with the usage of honorific vs familiar language, and deducing things on top of that. Or maybe she's a psychic.
This essay is turning out to be far longer than planned. And if that means I'm violating Rule 3, who cares? I'm not translating kdramas, and thank God for that.