Author Archives: australianfantastic

Zur Übersetzung von Kaaron Warren’s Hive of Glass

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply

In einer Gruppe von sechs Personen gemeinsam zu übersetzen, bringt einige Herausforderungen mit sich. Nach der halbwegs gerechten Aufteilung der Übersetzungsabschnitte unseres vergleichsweise langen Texts unter Berücksichtigung persönlicher Präferenzen gilt es etwa, bestimmte Einzelbegriffe, beispielsweise fishwives oder bablies, konstant zu behandeln. Auch Stil und Ton der Übersetzung sollten kohärent gehalten werden, damit das finale Leseerlebnis ultimativ so klingt, als läge ein einziger, zusammenhängender Text und kein Flickenteppich aus sechs Einzelwerken vor der Leserschaft. Gemeinschaftliche Absprachen können sich ebenfalls als ganz schöne logistische Herausforderung erweisen, wenn nicht alle Teilnehmerinnen immer gleichzeitig verfügbar sind, um wichtige Fragen zu klären, unter anderem: Wie sollen wir mit lokal spezifischen Realia wie Lebensmitteln oder Feiertagsritualen umgehen? Und was machen wir mit der Überschrift? Hive of Glass kann mehrere mögliche Bezüge abdecken – Seans Körper als geschäftiger Hort der Geister, „gläsern“ vielleicht, weil den Leser*innen von außen Einblick gewährt wird? Oder die Dorfgemeinschaft, die wie emsige Bienen durcheinandersummen und sich überall einmischen, sodass Seans Privatsphäre immer durchsichtiger verschwimmt? Viele weitere Interpretationen, die einer einigermaßen treffenden Übersetzung vorausgehen sollten, sind sicherlich ebenfalls denkbar.

Es herrscht also reger E-Mail-Verkehr in alle Richtungen. Besonders knifflige Stellen müssen gesammelt und als Fragen an die Autorin formuliert werden, auf deren unschätzbares Expertenwissen wir dank des Kooperationsprojekts exklusiven Zugriff haben.

Die Vorteile der Schwarmintelligenz für unser Übersetzungsprojekt sind allerdings auch nicht von der Hand zu weisen. So genießen wir den Input von nicht nur einem, sondern mindestens fünf Lektor*innen mit tiefenscharfem Einblick in den Gesamttext, was bei Entscheidungsunsicherheiten (z.B. „Kam“ oder „war“ der Sturm „wie der Zorn Gottes“? Oder „brachte [er] den Zorn Gottes mit sich“? Oder „brach [er] wie der Zorn Gottes über sie herein“?) und Formulierungsproblemen (z.B. Welche Übersetzung von Maleachis Bibelzitat erzeugt auf Deutsch eine ähnlich humoristische Wirkung wie im englischen Original?), ebenso wie bei Verständnisschwierigkeiten (z.B. Warum „winkt“ Sean den Menschen am Seeufer zu, als er beinahe ertrinkt? Rechercheergebnis: In Australien gehört das zum Standardwissen über Surf Safety, was sicherlich auch Sean bei seinem unfreiwilligen Schwimmkurs in der Schule vermittelt wurde – wer zu ertrinken droht, hebt die Hand, um Hilfe anzufordern!).

In unserem Fall zumindest hat der Einsatz so vieler Übersetzerinnen an einem einzigen Text zwar sicherlich der Koordination etwas mehr abverlangt als eine „normale“ Übersetzung allein oder maximal zu zweit, dafür aber auch ein sehr lohnendes Gemeinschaftserlebnis ermöglicht, von dem wir alle sehr profitiert haben.

Kaaron Warrens Hive of Glass haben im Übrigen alle Gruppenmitglieder persönlich als favorisierten Übersetzungstext ausgewählt. Fasziniert haben uns daran besonders das mystische Setting des versunkenen Skelton, als Kontrast zu Seans aktueller Heimat im staubig-trockenen Howell, die faszinierenden Persönlichkeiten der Protagonisten, der ungebrochene Bann der alten Geistergeschichte und die durch und durch das Spekulativ-Fiktive des Genres verkörpernden Geister, die trotz aller kreativen (und teils auch für Außenstehende etwas abstoßenden) Gegenmaßnahmen Seans Leben zu vereinnahmen drohen, verwoben in Warrens mitreißend dichtem Stil, authentisch, humorvoll und vor allem vom Anfang bis zum Ende ungemein spannend.

Vielen Dank für diese exquisite Gelegenheit, wir haben unsere Mitarbeit an dem Projekt sehr genossen!

Zur Übersetzung von Kaaron Warren’s “The Revivalist”

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
von Angela Agelopoulou, Laura Feiter, Jana Mankau

Laut dem Merriam Webster Wörterbuch (das Cambridge Wörterbuch scheint den Begriff nicht einmal zu kennen) ist ein Revivalist jemand, der religiöse Wiederbelebungen durchführt oder jemand, der etwas Unbenutztes wiederherstellt oder restauriert. In Kaaron Warrens Kurzgeschichte The Revivalist trifft Letzteres zu. Die Protagonistin Magda tut genau dies: Sie repariert ausgediente Roboter, die sie auf der Straße finden, um ihnen wieder einen Nutzen zu geben.

To revive als transitives Verb bedeutet:

1. Bewusstsein oder Leben wieder herstellen.

2. von einem heruntergekommenem, inaktiven oder unbenutzten Zustand zurückholen.

3. Etwas im Gedächtnis erneuern, Erinnerungen wieder herstellen.

Also im Grunde etwas oder jemanden wiederbeleben. In The Revivalist stellt Magda auch Erinnerungen, die letzten Worte längst verstorbener Menschen, wieder her. Allerdings holt sie diese Menschen nicht zurück ins Leben. Wie also übersetzen wir den Titel der Geschichte?

Im Deutschen gibt es diverse Möglichkeiten:

Die Wiederbeleberin

Die Restauratorin

Die Erweckerin

Schauen wir uns die genannten Übersetzungen genauer an. Wenn wir den Begriff Wiederbeleber/in hören oder lesen, denken wir an die Wiederbelebung eines Menschen. Diese Person hätte dann ein Bewusstsein. In The Revivalist jedoch werden die Roboter zwar mithilfe menschlicher DNA reaktiviert, allerdings haben sie kein menschliches Bewusstsein, da sie nur die allerletzten Worte der toten Person wiederholen. Des Weiteren müsste hier aber noch diskutiert werden, ob die Wiederherstellung von Erinnerungen gleichwertig mit der Wiederherstellung eines Bewusstseins wäre.

Der zweite Titel Die Restauratorin käme in Frage, da der Begriff Restauration auch im Kontext von Veränderung und Wiederherstellung verwendet werden kann. Allerdings wird der Begriff meist in Zusammenhang mit der Restaurierung von Kunst verwendet, wodurch der Titel falsche Assoziationen wecken würde. 

Die dritte Übersetzung, Die Erweckerin, ist durchaus passender, da dieser Begriff kein Bewusstsein des Erweckten impliziert. Für diesen Titel haben wir uns letztendlich entschieden.

Trotz des herausfordenden Titels machte uns die Arbeit an The Revivalist großen Spaß. Warrons Kurzgeschichte handelt von komplexen Thematiken (einschließlich der schweren ethischen Fragen die mit der schnellen Entwicklung von Technologien verbunden sind). Allerdings, dank des eleganten und schlichten Schreibstils ist die Geschichte leicht zu verstehen (im Gegensatz zu anderer australischer spekulativer Belletristik, mit der wir uns auseinandergesetzt haben). Im Verlauf der Geschichte fühlt man mit den Opfern mit, interessiert sich für die Umstände ihres Todes, und vollzieht ihren Schmerz (und den der Angehörigen) nach, so dass man sich Gerechtigkeit für sie wünscht. 

Die Handlung eignet sich perfekt für eine ethische Diskussion über das menschliche Eingreifen in die Natur. Obwohl die Geschichte fiktiv ist, ist die Idee der Wiederbelebung und der Einpflanzung menschlicher DNA in ein Objekt (insbesondere in Roboter/Androiden), um das Leben des Menschen zu verlängern, nicht so weit von der Realität entfernt, wie es erscheint.

Durch die spannende Thematik und relativ einfache Sprache ist die Geschichte perfekt für Einsteiger in australische spekulative Belletristik geeignet (und für solche, die sich allgemein für die Optimierung des Menschen interessieren).

According to Merriam Webster‘s Dictionary (Cambridge Dictionary apparently doesn‘t even know this word), a revivalist is someone „who conducts religious revivals“ or someone „who revives or restores something unused“. In Kaaron Warren‘s short story The Revivalist (published 2018)we are certainly talking about the latter. Our protagonist Magda does restore unused robots she finds on the streets, giving them a purpose, and a function.

To revive, as a transitive verb, means

1: to restore to consciousness or life

2: to restore from a depressed, inactive, or unused state: bring back

3: to renew in the mind or memory

So, essentially, it is about restoring something or someone. In the story, Magda also restores memories, the last words of people long dead. But she does not bring those people back to life. So, how are we to translate the title of this story?

The German language offers us various options:

Die Wiederbeleberin

Die Restauratorin

Die Erweckerin

Let us take a closer look at those possible translations. In German, when we come across the term Wiederbeleberin, we would think of someone bringing another person back to life. This person would then have a conscious self. However, in The Revivalist, the robots are revived but they do not have a consciousness as they only repeat the last words of the victims. Moreover, here we would have to discuss if restoring memories can have the same status as consciousness.

Die Restauratorin is another possible choice as it is frequently used in terms of change and revival. However, the term is most frequently associated with the restoration of artworks and therefore may not be a suitable translation.

The third translation, die Erweckerin, would work better as it does not necessarily imply a conscious self. This is the title we chose in the end.

Despite the difficulties in translating the title, working on The Revivalist has been great fun. Warren‘s short story deals with a complex topic (involving the power of technology and the ethical decisions that come with it), however, due to the author’s beautiful and simple writing style, the short story was easy to understand (unlike other Australian Speculative Fiction stories we have read). Throughout the story you start to get invested in the victims’ lives and deaths and you understand the pain they (and their loved ones) had been through, leaving you wanting justice for them.

The storyline is perfectly suitable for another ethical discussion about human intervention in the course of nature. Although it is a fictional story, the idea of “bringing someone back to life“ by planting a part of human DNA into an object (especially into robots or androids) in order to extend human life is not as far from reality as it might seem to be.

The interesting topic and the relatively easy language make it a perfect beginner story for everyone who is interested in Australian Speculative Fiction (and human enhancement in general).

Übersetzungskommentar zu “Das Dieselbecken”

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
von Mandy Bartesch, Ava Braus und Lina Langpap

Eine junge Frau steht allein am Ufer einer Art unterirdischen Sees. Giftige Dämpfe wabern durch die Luft, sie kann kaum atmen. Die Oberfläche dessen, was Wasser sein sollte, aber keines ist, kräuselt sich, Tentakel tauchen aus den dunklen Tiefen empor, greifen nach ihr. Der Geruch von Diesel steigt ihr in die Nase.

Kaaron Warrens Kurzgeschichte „Das Dieselbecken“ baut stark auf Elementen des Lovecraftschen Horrors auf, der Furcht vor dem Unbekannten und dem, was wir nicht verstehen, um in den Lesenden ein Gefühl der Beklommenheit und des Schreckens hervorzurufen. Das Grauen steigert sich langsam, aber stetig, bis am Ende schließlich die abscheuliche Kreatur enthüllt wird, die den Kern der Geschichte ausmacht. Als Lesende verfolgen wir den Abstieg der Protagonistin in ein Tunnelsystem unter dem Old Parliament House in Canberra. Das Gebäude sieht nur noch wenige Touristen, seit das Gerücht die Runde macht, es sei asbestverseucht.

Die quasi-namenlose Protagonistin, die von ihrem verstorbenen Vater den Spitznamen Jenny Haniver bekommen hat, ist Sexarbeiterin, wohnt in ihrem Auto und besitzt die einzigartige Gabe, Geister wahrnehmen und mit ihnen kommunizieren zu können. Einer der Geister erzählt ihr, dass es in den Tunneln und Höhlen unter dem alten Regierungsgebäude Becken voller Diesel gäbe, Überbleibsel aus dem Krieg, aus denen sich Geld machen ließe. In Begleitung eines Mannes namens Lance, der im Old Parliament House arbeitet, folgt sie dieser Spur in die dunklen Tunnel hinab. Es stellt sich heraus, dass es tatsächlich ein Dieselbecken unter dem Gebäude gibt, aber das ist nicht das einzige, was Jenny dort findet. Das Becken wird von einem seltsamen Besucher bewohnt, einem, dem es nach frischer Luft giert, der jedoch nicht imstande ist, die dunkle Grotte zu verlassen, die über die Jahre zu seinem Gefängnis geworden ist …

Wie Lovecraft baut auch Warren die düstere Atmosphäre ihrer Geschichte nur langsam auf und steigert den Schrecken mit jedem Schritt, den Jenny tiefer in die Tunnel hinab steigt. Erst ganz am Ende enthüllt sie das ganze Ausmaß des Grauens, das dort unten lauert. Es ist eine existentielle Art des Horrors, die sich nicht auf blutiges Gemetzel oder billige Schockeffekte verlassen muss, um unheimlich zu sein. Diese dichte, spannungsgeladene Atmosphäre ins Deutsche zu übertragen, erwies sich als recht schwierig, denn sowohl als Lesende als auch als Übersetzende erleben wir die Ereignisse ausschließlich durch die Augen der Protagonistin: Wenn sie verwirrt ist, sind wir es ebenso, wenn sie Schwierigkeiten hat, zu unterscheiden, was echt ist und was nicht, geht es uns ebenso. Die Art, wie sie ihre Erlebnisse schildert, ist besonders oft durch Ellipsen geprägt, etwa wenn sie die Erinnerungen an ihren Vater völlig abrupt, sogar ohne Satzzeichen abbricht (Warren 74). Als Übersetzende müssen wir uns fragen, ob wir diese Leerstellen füllen oder doch lieber leer lassen sollen, und ob das etwas daran ändern würde, wie ein deutschsprachiges Lesepublikum die Geschichte wahrnähme.

Darüber hinaus stellt sich die Frage, ob wir während des Übersetzungsprozesses Erklärungen für Kulturspezifika einfügen sollten oder nicht. So finden sich im Ausgangstext Textelemente wie Old Parliament House, tent-embassy, oder Summernats, die in der Kultur von Australien, speziell von Canberra eingebettet sind und bei denen wir als Übersetzer erwägen müssen, inwieweit wir als Kulturmittler agieren sollen.  Etwa der Begriff Summernats, ein in Canberra jährlich stattfindendes Autofestival, bedarf in der Übersetzung eine zusätzlichen Erklärung. Ein weiteres Beispiel: gibt man beispielsweise den Begriff tent-embassy bei Google ein, so lässt sich leicht feststellen, dass es hierfür eine feststehende deutsche Übersetzung gibt, und zwar Zelt-Botschaft. Jedoch gehört dieser Begriff und der damit zusammenhängende kulturelle Kontext nicht zum Allgemeinwissen deutscher LeserInnen. Daher haben wir uns dazu entschlossen, eine Fußnote einzufügen.

Weitere Übersetzungsprobleme, auf die wir gestoßen sind, waren die Nachbildung der eigenen Stimmen der Figuren und die mit dem Genre des Kosmischen Horrors zusammenhängende Schwierigkeit der Erschaffung einer spannungsgeladenen Atmosphäre und eines Gefühls des Unbehagens, das bei H.P. Lovecraft mit der Furcht vor dem Unbekannten verbunden ist. Warren‘s Kurzgeschichte baut dieses Unbehagen langsam auf, enthält mehrere Plot-Twists und endet mit einer schrecklichen Enthüllung, die in der Übersetzung genauso schockierend sein musste, damit der Horror-Aspekt der Geschichte funktioniert. Während die Sprache bei Lovecraft mit seinen langen Schachtelsätzen etwas altmodisch und fast schon gestelzt wirkt, spricht die Protagonistin Jenny in „Das Dieselbecken“eher einfach, direkt und umgangssprachlich. Doch auch hier finden sich einige Bilder, die schon ins Absurde gehen, etwa wenn Jenny den Geruch der unterirdischen Grotte mit dem eines im Dunkeln vor sich hintrocknenden Spüllappens vergleicht (Warren 75). Dann ist da noch Lance, der in sehr ominösem Ton spricht, aber auch manchmal absurde Lächerlichkeiten von sich gibt. Diese Eigenheiten der Figuren sollten auch in der Übersetzung nicht verloren gehen.

Wir hoffen, diese Besonderheiten von Genre, Figuren und unserer Übersetzung gerecht geworden zu sein und wünschen allen LeserInnen viel Spaß mit der Geschichte! Ihr findet sie hier.

A young woman standing alone on the shore of what seems to be an underground lake. Toxic fumes waft through the air, she can barely breathe. The surface of what should be water but isn’t ripples; tentacles emerge from the murky depths, reaching out for her. The smell of diesel fills her nose.

Kaaron Warren’s short story “The Diesel Pool” heavily draws on elements of Lovecraftian horror, on the fear of that which is unknown, that which we do not understand, in order to invoke uneasiness and dread in the reader, building up to the grand reveal of the abominable creature at the heart of the story. As readers, we follow the protagonist’s journey into the underground beneath Canberra’s Old Parliament House, a building mostly abandoned by tourists since the rumor of asbestos in the walls made its rounds.

The kind-of-nameless protagonist, nicknamed Jenny Haniver by her late father, is a sex worker operating from her car, who possesses the unique ability to see and communicate with ghosts. One of the ghosts leads her to believe that in the tunnels and caverns beneath the old government building, there are pools of diesel, remnants of the war from which she could potentially make money. She follows this lead into the dark tunnels, accompanied by Lance, a man working at Old Parliament House. As it turns out, there is a diesel pool beneath the building, but that is not the only thing Jenny finds there. The pool is occupied by a strange visitor, one that is hungry for fresh air but unable to leave the dark cavern that has become his prison over the years …

Like Lovecraft, Warren builds her atmosphere of terror slowly, raising the level of dread with every step Jenny takes further down the tunnels, only revealing the full scale of horrors lurking down there at the very end of the story. It’s an existential kind of horror that does not need to rely on gore or cheap thrills to be scary. Translating this dense atmosphere of suspense into German proved to be difficult, since we, as readers and translators, experience the story exclusively through the eyes of the protagonist – when she is confused, so are we, when she has difficulty discerning what is real or not, then so do we. The way she narrates her experience for us is especially often characterized by ellipses, for example when her memories of her father get interrupted abruptly (Warren 74). As translators we have to ask ourselves whether to fill those blank spots or leave them blank and whether that would change how German readers would then perceive the story.

There is also the question as to whether we should include explanations for culturally specific elements of the story. The story contains concepts specific to Australian, specifically Canberran, culture. As translators, we had to decide how much of it to explain to readers. There is, for example, Summernats, the name of an annual car festival held in Canberra, that needs explanation. Another example: If you search up the term tent-embassy on Google, you easily find the German term for it: Zelt-Botschaft. But it is not that simple, since most German readers won‘t be familiar with the cultural and political context of the term — the tent-embassy means a tent erected by Indigenous Australians to symbolize their protest against injustice and violence perpetrated against them by the European settlers. So we decided to add an explanatory footnote.  Attention should also be paid to finding respectful, appropriate terms when mentioning Indigenous people in the translation.

Another translation difficulty was recreating the the characters‘ voices and the sense of dread and tense atmosphere of the Cosmic Horror genre, which is connected to the fear of the strange and unknown in Lovecraft‘s writing. Warren‘s story slowly builds up the dread, contains several plot twists, and ends with a horrific revelation that needed to be just as hard-hitting in German as in the original to make the translation work. While Lovecraft‘s syntax is old-fashioned and sometimes stilted, the voice of Warren‘s narrator is direct and colloquial. Still, some of her descriptions seem almost absurd, like her comparison of the monster‘s smell to an „an old dishrag left to dry in the dark“ (Warren, 75). Then there is Lance, whose tone is ominous, coupled with occasional absurdities. We tried to not let these aspects of the characters to get lost in the translation

All in all, we hope to have done justice to these specifics of genre, characters and Australian culture in our translation and wish all readers of „Das Dieselbecken“ a great time with the story! Here it is!

Pat Grant’s “Blue” – A Reading Diary

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
by Jo Hoffs
cartoon boy shown doing several steps of surfing

Pat Grant’s Blue is a graphic novel about surfing, about community, about migration and conservatism. First and foremost, it is a story about xenophobia, and about a blue alien race migrating to the fictional town of Bolton. We meet Christian, a Bolton citizen who starts off his story by complaining that the blue aliens “pretty much own the whole town now” (Grant 25). Christian is angry and frustrated – he wants everything to remain the way he knew it from his childhood, a time he spent surfing and having fun with his friends.

Once Christian starts telling the story of how he went looking for a corpse along the train tracks, I was immediately reminded of the novel The Body by Steven King – a similarity which was intended, as Pat Grant explains in an essay at the end. A huge theme in The Body is friendship and finding a sense of belonging somewhere. The four boys in The Body come from difficult family situations where they are either abused or neglected. During their adventure together, they find a sense of community and make some – not always positive – memories. In Blue the feeling of community and friendship also plays a part. Here, it is expressed through one of Pat Grant’s passions: Surfing. Christian, the protagonist of the story, like Geordie from The Body, tells the audience about his youth: A time where he often missed school to go surfing with two of his friends, “the only ones with families lousy enough to let them get away with it” (Grant 38). Christian still longs for this time, because it was a time when there were no blue people in Bolton yet. “You play spot the Aussie around here these days”, he tells the reader. As an introduction to his character, this is perfect because it immediately shows some of his main characteristics: He is a racist middle-aged man missing the days when he was not confronted by the existence of other cultures yet. At the time when Christian and his friends are looking for the body, the blue people have just arrived in Bolton, making it a huge topic of discussion among them. The first time they meet a blue person themselves the friends are already prejudiced wanting the immigrants to go back to “Oogety-Boong Land” (Grant 55).

from: Grant, Pat. Blue. Top Shelf, 2013.

The allegory of immigrants as a blue alien species in this graphic novel is interesting but at the same time confused me a bit. In my opinion, the political implications weren’t always clear, which doesn’t have to be a bad thing but in a story so heavily focused around a political issue, it weakens the material. On the one hand, the inhabitants of Bolton are biased against the immigrants for xenophobic reasons, as it becomes apparent on page 28, when racist slogans like “we grew here, you flew here” are shown. On the other hand, the blue aliens according to Christian do not take good care of the city, as there is garbage everywhere and the plants are dead (page 25). Without reading the author’s essay at the end, I would not have been sure if this story is actually pro-immigration.

When it comes to the visuals of the story, I like the drawing style and the use of the light blue color in contrast to the black, grey, and sometimes brown colors used for the Bolton natives. Sometimes there are dozens of panels on one page, which gets overwhelming to me personally if there are many word balloons to read (e.g., Grant 58). Another nice touch to the story was the Australian slang words in the dialogue. However, this also complicates the reading experience for those who are not familiar with Australian slang. Footnotes would have been helpful here.

While I enjoyed the story and its different themes – community, racism, generational conflicts, bullying – it left me a bit confused as to what to take away from the story. It feels to me like the author attempted to take the story into multiple interesting directions but failed to properly work out any of them. There is no character development on Christian’s part, no other characters to give some kind of a satisfying conclusion and especially, there is not much of a take-away from the story. Nevertheless, I would recommend this graphic novel, as I think it’s possible to have many different views on it and speaking from experience, every re-read helps you discover new aspects.

Works Cited

Grant, Pat. Blue. Top Shelf, 2013.

Thoughts on the Wordless Graphic Novel The Arrival by Shaun Tan

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
by Johanna E.

“My picture books are essentially an attempt to subversively reimagine everyday experience,” Shaun Tan says about his own work (Haber 23). His graphic novel The Arrival (2006) is a clear example for Tan’s usage of fantastic element to reimagine everyday occurences. In The Arrival, we a re dealing with the reimagined everyday experience of a refugee, starting a life in a new place far from home. In six chapters the graphic novel tells the story of a man who has to immigrate to a different country and leave his wife and daughter behind because of the dangers facing the family in their home country. Eventually, his family follows him after he has found a place to live and a place to work. His experiences are told without words so that the storytelling relies entirely on the illustrations. The subversion of the very common immigration themes of feeling displaced and overwhelmed in the new situation is especially present because realistic elements are juxtaposed with fantastical elements to depict the migrant experience.     

It becomes clear from the beginning that words are not necessary for Shaun Tan to convey the meaning of his story because the composition of panels, illustrations and icons makes it possible to be (almost) universally understood. This has the interesting effect that the story does not require anyone to either know English or any other language in particular. I liked this aspect of the story, especially because it reminded me of my own family member telling me about her migration story which was made a lot harder because of the language barrier and the loneliness that comes with that. The immigrant in the story also deals with language barriers as the new language system is completely foreign to him and it takes time until he is able to make sense of it. This is one of the reasons why the lack of words in the narrative works so well for an immigration story because understanding very often relies on knowing a certain language and the graphic novel removes this boundary for any of its potential readers. Additionally, using no words requires the reader to take a closer look at each and every panel and icon, which makes the reader engage with the illustrations more thoroughly.                

six panels showing the protagonist's hands as they carefully pack a family photograph

            The art style Shaun Tan uses is an interesting mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar. Generally, the panels and icons are drawn in a very realistic way, meaning the main characters, the refugee and his family, look similar to the way they might look in an old photograph. The entire book reads like an old document that is put together as a remembrance for the migrant´s experiences. Furthermore, Shaun Tan often “zooms” in and out of his panels or focuses on hand gestures which has a very humanizing effect amidst the many fantastical elements. In many instances, Tan shows the main character´s hand movements to symbolize his inner feelings and turmoil, like when his hand flexes in pain because he has to leave his family or when he holds on tight to his suitcase on the journey. Some pages zoom away from the small gestures to the characters as tiny specks in a city full of fantastical monsters which emphasizes the danger they are surrounded by in their home country.

           

In contrast to the rather realistic icons and panels we also have the fantastical elements the main character encounters as soon as he arrives in the new place. The more he explores the city, the more fantastical the elements like food, the buildings, the transportation, or the language system become. These fantastical elements are juxtaposed with the realistic art style Shaun Tan uses for the illustrations. The unidentifiable food, the strange animals or the unreadable language represent the newness of the place where the main characters immigrated to and how difficult it is to find your way around at first. Because these elements are not specific to any real culture, every reader is confronted with this strangeness in the same way. You do not really know what to make of the elements at first but they become more familiar with every chapter which connects the reader and the refugee as neither knows what the fantastical elements mean at first.                

four panels showing a newspaper boy with a newspaper in a strange language, a housewife with a strange pet, a strange vending wagon, and two people handling giant eggs

            One aspect concerning the realistic drawing of people reminded me of Scott McCloud´s discussion of comics and graphic novels as he states that “when you look at a photo or realistic drawing of a face, you see it as the face of another. But when you enter the world of the cartoon, you see yourself” (McCloud 36). For Tan´s work that would mean the realistic drawing of faces makes it more difficult to relate to the character´s experiences as you have a specific face you are confronted with. However, Shaun Tan seems to have a different view on relatability when it comes to drawing realistically which I thought was interesting to compare. He states that “The absence of any written description in The Arrival seemed to place the reader more firmly in the shoes of an anonymous protagonist.” (Arizpe et al. 161). Therefore, there seems to be a difference in approach as McCloud highlights the importance of abstraction for relatability whereas Shaun Tan does create a realistic-looking character but, because the story is told without words, there is more room for interpretation as different readers might make different connections between panels according to their own backgrounds. Furthermore, I think that a lot of the relatability of his work comes from the magical elements, which are jarring for all readers alike, and act as stand-ins for real life experiences of learning a new language, or not understanding the food, animals, or cities. I think that generally, McCloud and Tan have the same idea in mind though, because ultimately both play with the illusion of engaging the readers to feel represented and see themselves in the comic or graphic novel, just through different techniques.             

The importance of the lack of words, and the realism juxtaposed with the fantastical elements, is what the story lives off and what makes it compelling and new. There is a lot more you can say about The Arrival and the way meaning is constructed but for now, I think that the way the story is told is quite unique, especially in terms of the art style. This makes it possible for every kind of reader to connect with the story, especially people who have gone through similar experiences.

Sources

  • Arizpe, Evelyn, Teresa Colomer, and Carmen Martinez-Roldain. Visual Journey Through Wordless Narratives: An International Inquiry with Immigrant Children and The Arrival. Bloomsbury Academic, 2014.
  • Haber, Karen. Masters of Science Fiction and Fantasy Art: A Collection of the Most Inspiring         Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Gaming Illustrators in the world. Rockport Publishers, 2011.
  • McCloud, Scott. Understanding Comics: the Invisible Art. HarperPerennial, 1994.
  • Tan, Shaun. The Arrival. Hodder Children´s Books, 2007.                  

Translating Laila Lalami

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
by Emire Gül Yildiz

As a group, we chose the translatory strategy of foreignization to translate the excerpts from The Moor’s Account by Laila Lalami because we wanted to retain the source text’s information without changing the meaning (cf. Bassnett 2014, 47). For example, the novel has many Spanish and Arabic words. Therefore there was no intention to translate them into German, like the word Señor (Lalami 2014, 47).

Each of the group members took over a specific part of the text and first translated this excerpt individually, which is the part of our translation that I am going to focus on in this post:

During the translation process, I didn’t encounter significant difficulties. However, due to our decision to stay close to the original text, we had to find the balance between maintaining the original meaning and writing a grammatically correct German translation. Sometimes this was not as easy as it seemed.

Furthermore, another problem was the grammar, primarily because of the different sentence structures. When I began translating in the same sentence order as the English text, the result showed that the German text was full of grammatical errors and changed the meaning of the source text. Consequently, I had to find different approaches to modify the sentences until the syntax and meaning were both accurate, which took some time.

All in all, I can say that I had much fun translating my text excerpt. I learned a lot during the translation process, especially the importance of deciding which translation method to choose for the text. The procedure demands an understanding of the cultural references of the source text because we choose how to connect the author and the readers. By deciding on foreignization, we ensure the author can deliver her message without distorting the meaning.


Works Cited
Bassnett, Susan. Translation. London / New York: Routledge, 2014.
Lalami, Laila. The Moor’s Account. New York: Vintage, 2014.

Translation: A Constant Act of Balancing Words

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
by Lea-Marie Schneider

Translation can be done in several ways with different emphases and different theories in mind. The focus we had was based on one of Walkowitz’s theories about the Born Translated: The Contemporary Novel in an Age of World Literature (Walkowitz 2015) which critically engages with the global dominance of English written novels. Born translated novels are written to be translated or even as if they are already translated. Those texts are treated either “as medium and origin rather than as afterthought” (Walkowitz 3-4) translations and mostly “pretend[…] to take place in a language other than the one in which they have been composed” (Walkowitz 4). The focus of the seminar was to engage with the Anglophone Arab Novel and how the authors managed to write their stories in English with contexts and plots that are tied to another culture. Those various forms of translation that happened in the process of writing of the authors are impacting the understanding of a potential readership who possibly do not have knowledge about the Arabic cultures, values, or habits.

The excerpt that was translated by us as a group was taken from the novel The Moor’s Account (2015) written by the author Laila Lalami. Our translation was mainly informed by Rebecca Walkowitz’s Born Translated: The Contemporary Novel in an Age of World Literature (2015). The novel is a historical fictional narrative and tells the story of Mustafa ibn Muhammad, a Moroccan slave who explores La Florida with a Castilian exploration crew and his owner. First, we agreed to stay as close to the original text as possible and tried to keep the meaning and the mood the source text conveys. This required us to consider the overall context of the novel and the context of the particular part that was to be translated. The fact that the novel’s genre is that of historical fiction was also a big part of the translation in terms of word choices. For example, the word “treasurer” (Lalami 47) can be translated into the word “Kämmerer” or “Schatzmeister”. The second possibility seemed more natural as a word choice because the novel is a historical fictional narrative and therefore ancient terminology fits more into the overall context. We also decided to keep the Spanish words and names as they are without translating them into German. For example, the Spanish word “Señor” (Lalami 47) was kept and was not translated into the German version Senior. This reminds the potential reader of other languages and places and possibly expands the view of the superiority of a language. As translators we always had to be aware of the grammar of both languages, the target and the source language. Changing the word order sometimes caused problems and changed the whole meaning. The sense was sometimes lost in translation but could be restored by the position of several words. Sometimes even the usage of metaphorical sentences is problematic and could cause misunderstandings. Therefore, we agreed upon a less metaphorical style and translated “he never said it to the treasurers face” (Lalami 47) into “in Abwesenheit des Schatzmeisters”.

The process of translation was a permanent balance of what makes the most sense and what keeps the implied mood of the novel. Even if in the position of the translator one tries to preserve as much meaning as possible with the willingness to keep the sentence structure, there are always compromises and decisions to be made. It is surprising how much one person can think about the choice of a word out of five options and how much time one paragraph can consume. Even though you are not the writer of the novel the decisions that you make can affect the novel and the meaning of the whole translation.

Works Cited

Lalami, Laila. The Moor’s Account. Vintage; Reprint Edition, 2015.
Walkowitz, Rebecca. Born Translated: The Contemporary Novel in an Age of World Literature. New York: Columbia University Press, 2015.

“Mad Max: Fury Road”: A movie about female emancipation and feminism

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
by Adesua Atamah

At first glance the Australian movie Mad Max: Fury Road by George Miller seems to be a stereotypical action movie; wild car chases, burning gasoline tanks, and deadly car crashes. But when you move your focus towards deeper meaning, the movie is clearly about women’s empowerment and feminism. Six women fighting for their freedom, against a cruel postapocalyptic regime. Six women are trying to escape their male predators in a world marked by a collapsed society, famine, droughts, male leadership, and natural catastrophes.

“Our babies will not be warlords.” “Who ruined the world? “We are not things.”

This is the powerful message left behind by five brave women who escaped dictator Joe. Imprisoned and used as “breeding machines”, their only purpose was to bear Joe more sons. Joe is the gruesome ruler, oppressing society by controlling the overall water supplies. Moreover, he especially oppresses women by taking away their freedom and sexually assaulting them. His character is a good example for many misogynistic men – men who are hostile towards women by believing they are more worthy and capable than women. Their message embodies what many women have felt for centuries. Even though the movie is set in the future the patriarchy still exists, moreover, it worsened. It is an act of rebellion when these five-woman escape with heroine Furiosa’s help. They actively emancipate themselves and risk their lives for independence. They rather die in a deadly car chase than submit to male torture and oppression.

Furiosa is the heroine of the story, and she embodies female empowerment and strength. She is the only female among the military ranks who serves in Joe as an imperator. When she was ordered to protect Joe’s wives, she forms a bond with the women and decides to escape with them, by hiding the women in the tank of her War rig, which she used to drive for Joe. She turned to a rebel overnight. She deceives Joe and catches him off guard. Her strength, commitment, and intelligence all contribute to their success in the end. She tricks Joe and escapes with his wives. Joe sees the women as his property and therefore gets angry when he noticed he was tricked. He responds with a violent hunt; however, he is defeated in the end. When the women return to Joe’s fortress they are cheered up and celebrated as heroes.

In the movie, men want to achieve singular glory. However, Furiosa and the other women work together as a team and their success is built by a collective power. In the end, they can improve the oppressive system of this post-apocalyptic society. “Mad Max: Fury Road” is a movie about feminism and the rebellion against the patriarchy. Women fight as a team against men who try to bring back old gender roles, and male authority. Therefore, the movie also tries to warn us by implying that fight for gender equality is not over yet. Misogyny is not only a problem of the past, but also a problem of the present, and future. Misogyny can just be defeated if women work together and not against each other.

Crikey! Australian Voices in Borderlands The Pre-sequel

Posted on by australianfantastic
Reply 
by Danny Tran

“Hello hello? Thought you were salvage, you are about to die!”

Following the action-packed opening mission and violently crash landing on the moon of Concordia, Borderlands The Pre-sequel, with its bizarre but strangely amusing name, opens up with a thick Australian accent, something that took most gamers by surprise.

Known for its quirky dialogue and loot-based gameplay, Borderlands has been deemed the precursor of the “looter shooter” genre, a genre that to this day is unbelievably successful. While the original games Borderlands 1, 2, 3 were all developed by American studio Gearbox Software, 2K Australia, a subsidiary studio under the branch of Gearbox studios, pitched the idea of a prequel game following the release of Borderlands 2.

This prequel would explore the backstory of some of the characters, while simultaneously setting up the future following Borderlands 2 abrupt, cliffhanger ending. In short, 2K Australia wanted to develop a special kind of game, one which took into account both the past and the future: a pre-sequel indeed. Gearbox Studios approved the pitch and 2K Australia began their journey on making their own game. While the pre-sequel built upon pre-existing mechanics, the Australian developer wanted to put their own mark on the Borderlands franchise, and a lasting one at that.

Mainstream media and videogames in general are largely dominated by American influence and Borderlands up to that point in time, was no exception to this. In response to this, 2K Australia saw a great opportunity to sprinkle some of their own culture into the game: since the game took place in a new destination, why not make the inhabitants of the moon Concordia Australian? While the series was always known for its humorous dialogue, the developers who now had their own Australian writing staff, made use of this unique opportunity to implement a plethora of references to Australian comedy and culture. Charming characters like “The Don”, an aptly named NPC whose name is a reference to the renowned batsmen Donald Bradman, serves as one of these examples.  Never seen without his bat, this NPC fittingly references the Australian’s favorite sport of cricket on numerous occasions, even tasking the players to retrieve his ball in homonymously named mission “The Don”. The developers at 2K Australia were seemingly quite invested in Australian literature too, as the bush ballad “Waltzing Matilda” found itself recreated in the mission “The Empty Billabong”. Written by Banjo Paterson in the late 1800s, the song is about a “swagman” who gets himself into trouble by killing the sheep of a nearby landowner. Unwilling to get caught by the pursuing authorities, he defiantly declares “You’ll never catch me alive!”, before ultimately drowning himself in a nearby billabong. In the Borderlands version, a NPC named Peepot tasks the player with finding their best friend, “The Jolly Swagman”, who has seemingly gone missing. Similar to his counterpart, “The Jolly Swagman” meets his untimely demise near a river — in this case one made of lava — while holding onto a tuckerbag. Upon opening his tuckerbag, it is revealed that it contained a baby Kraggon, — Borderlands equivalent of a sheep. While the overall setting and humor of the Borderlands universe are unique to say the least, the writers managed to stay somewhat true to the original, simultaneously adding their own twist to the story.

Other more peculiar examples include a foul-mouthed, talking shotgun which stands in direct reference to the “Bogan” stereotype. The Bogan stereotype, which is quite renown in Australia and New Zealand, describes an unfashionable and uncouth person, one that is usually of lower social status.  The dialogue of “Boganella”, certainly reflects the colorful vocabulary of someone who is supposed to represent this particular stereotype.

Taking everything into account, this brings us to the final point of this blogpost. The Borderlands community took a divided stance on both the unfamiliar accent and the quirky cultural references. While most of these examples went over the heads of the majority of people, Australian gamers were thrilled to finally see a game in which they could see themselves represented. English is getting more and more prevalent in every aspect of mainstream media, yet people tend to forget that other dialects and cultures exist beyond the culturally accepted American and British variation. While the pre-sequel was ultimately met with mixed reviews overall, 2K Australia sprinkled in linguistic and cultural diversity one a scale that many games to this day have not displayed. I for one enjoyed learning about Australian culture in this game, and I hope to see some more of it in the future.

Bibliography

Borderlands Fandom Wiki. https://borderlands.fandom.com. Accessed 28th February 2022.

Sailing Whitsundays. “The history of waltzing Matilda”. https://sailing-whitsundays.com/article/history-of-waltzing-matilda.  Accessed 28th February 2022.

Max Langride. “What’s A Bogan? Are You A Bogan? You Probably Are”.  https://www.dmarge.com/signs-youre-a-bogan. Accessed 28th February 2022.