Sunday, September 20, 2020

reading review - lost in translation

Longtime TOA readers will recall 2016’s Lost In Translation bracket, a well-intended linguistic circus that ultimately saw me crown 'iktsuarpok' as my favorite from among the book’s many untranslated, wonderful words. My 2019 December rereading exercise brought me back to this work, and I feel the time is right for an update. So, in lieu of a reading review (but how could anyone review this book, honestly) I'm giving you, dear reader, something you didn't have the courage to ask for - a sequel. This time, I’ve gone with a ranked list rather than a bracket, which is much less work for everyone (including you); as a homage to the original exercise, I roughly organized the list into bracket-sized blocks.

We'll begin today with the eight words that would have been knocked out in a theoretical Round of 16 (aka, the sweet sixteen, for those of you who don't like to pay athletes).

Lost In Translation by Ella Frances Sanders (December 2019)

Just missing the cut

17) Nunchi (Korean) – noun, the subtle, often unnoticed art of listening and gauging another’s mood.

Ha! You can't have a bracket without someone just missing out, so let's start at #17.

This word names a natural behavior and therefore enables us to both value and cultivate the skill. With words like nunchi, we elevate what gets taken for granted to an artform. I acknowledge that English at least recognizes the base behavior of nunchi, so a translation of this word isn't urgent, or even unnecessary; I left it just outside my top sixteen.

One and done

16) Goya (Urdu) – noun, a transporting suspension of disbelief – an ‘as-if’ that feels like reality – such as in good storytelling.

One common theme in this book is that the biggest threat to greatness is the modifier, which prevents the nuanced distinctions that would otherwise get lost as a torrent of '-ers' or '-ests' crowds around an overused base word. At first glance, goya seems like a small step above ‘wonderful’, but it's hardly the same thing as saying ‘pretty wonderful’; my advice to any storyteller is to reject the modifier, and guide the audience toward their own moment of goya.

15) Mangata (Swedish) – noun, the road-like reflection of the moon in the water.

14) Cafune (Brazilian Portuguese) – noun, the act of tenderly running your fingers through the hair of somebody you love.

13) Pisan zapra (Malay) – noun, the time needed to eat a banana.

Another theme throughout was the long list of words naming the mundane that might otherwise pass without a second thought. A name turns a moment into an experience – one day after starting this post, I noticed how the smoke-covered sun left its own mangata in the Charles, a clay-colored causeway across the rippling river. A fresh label can also be a catalyst for change - when we acknowledge how long it takes to eat a banana, it changes the way we think about eating; when we mark propaganda, oppression, or injustice, it changes the way we participate in our democracies.

In terms of the ranking, for these three words I felt that although each was an example of a charming way to use language, none of the trio was as insightful as the words higher in my list. I put mangata at the back because it's essentially a more colorful way to describe certain reflections; pisan zapra made me laugh so it ended up beating cafune by a hair.

12) Struisvogelpolitiek (Dutch) – noun, literally, ‘ostrich politics’, acting like you don’t notice when something bad happens and continuing on regardless, as you normally would.

This word is almost an extension of the previous three with the added bonus of an animal comparison, which seems to be a widely shared preference across various languages, and pushes this word up by one slot. I like this word because it names a behavior (and a pretty common one, as far as I can tell). This word, unlike the others thus far, seems to have purpose - it calls out absurdity in the hope of directing our elected officials toward better future performance. The mocking tone in the word is critical; don’t they say that the Devil is defeated with laughter? But as a word, I'm not sure it requires translation, so #12 seems appropriate.

To bring it back to the prior trio for a moment - if there was a word for how long it took a monkey to eat a banana, it would surely be much higher in the list. For those who are inventing new words, take note - if possible, use animal comparisons.

11) Saudade (Portuguese) – noun, a vague, constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist, a nostalgic longing for someone or something loved and then lost.

10) Szimpatikus (Hungarian) – adjective, when meeting someone for the first time, and your intuition tells you that they are a good person, you can refer to them as ‘szimpatikus’.

These words score higher for describing subtle variants on otherwise commonly shared feelings. The nostalgia of saudade may be especially relevant in these days of COVID, where so much of normal has been relegated to the drying ink on freshly revised history books. But I slotted it behind szimpatikus because the Hungarian word is a reminder that as social creatures our powers of interpersonal intuition can only be restrained, but never eliminated. These words are similar in a certain way for they establish a link between our emotions and our imaginations; szimpatikus looks forward and sees untapped potential, so it narrowly finishes ahead of saudade, which to me feels like the downside of applying the same instinct to the past.

9) Tima (Icelandic) – verb, not being ready to spend time or money on a specific thing, despite being able to afford it.

Tima is truly a word in the spirit of this book; it takes a common situation that we all understand - the stingy miser - and adds a subtle, brilliant nuance that changes our perspective. We see a pile of coins, and vilify Scrooge being consumed by greed; tima is the empathy required to help our imagination see in those dollars a protective shield, or a crutch, which will stand guard until the support is deemed surplus to requirements.

I suspect tima can also speak to both a problem and a solution at a societal level - the pandemic response has proven our ability to move and move quickly on important problems, spending freely once ready; I fear bringing the reluctant around will once again become an obstacle when the situation stabilizes and we look for our next problem. The horizon beckons with new challenges and the solutions will require another full collective effort. We must act now because at current prices, we can afford it; the sale will end soon.

Quarterfinals

I'll be back shortly with the quarterfinals, but for now I'll leave you with a list of those top eight words, presented here in alphabetical order:

Akihi (Hawaiian)
Commuovere (Italian)
Hiraeth (Welsh)
Iktsuarpok (Inuit)
Komorebi (Japanese)
Mamihlapinatapai (Yaghan)
Trepverter (Yiddish)
Warmduscher (German)

Thanks for reading.