Translating with Creativity

Translation is an occupation that often requires creativity. The right words aren’t always easy to find and you have to search for a solution that works the best.

The most creative work I ever translated was a children’s book written in rhyming couplets. The author's original piece was truly incredible; it was engaging, and she painted the scene directly in your imagination using playful, inventive, and silly language. My challenge was to see if I could translate the book while keeping the rhyme scheme but also finding a way to allow the author’s style and ingenuity to shine through in the translation.

For example, the first two couplets already presented some challenges:

“Il principe Astolfo è un bimbo assai viziato,

coi suoi capricci tiene in scacco l’intero principato.

Urla, strepita, scalcia il mascalzone

e per le istitutrici è un vero zuccone.”

If you don’t understand Italian, you just have to take my word that these couplets are cute. The author is able to transmit the idea of a little prince who is badly behaved with language that is cute, silly, and very rhythmic. When starting a project like this, I always work first to create a very rough translation of the meaning, and then I can go back and refine the rhymes and the style:

“Prince Astolfo is a very spoiled child” is how I translated the first phrase, and even that basic translation sounded really nice. The next sentence, though:

“With his whims, he holds the entire principality in check” was more complex. Right off the bat, there are a few problems. First, it didn’t rhyme, so I would need to work on that. Second, “whims,” while not an incorrect translation of “capricci,” felt a bit flat. It required a more emphatic word, like tantrums or fits. Then, there was the translation of “tiene in scacco.” Scacco is chess, so I could use “hold in check” or “hold in checkmate,” but they felt less imaginative than the metaphor sounded in Italian, so I started brainstorming some possibilities that lent an idea of immobility, like “keeps,” “holds hostage,” or “grinds to a halt.”

Then I started looking at words that rhymed with the child, hoping that this would give me inspiration, and it worked. There were some words that rhymed with “child” that could create the image of an impetuous boy, like “wild” and “riled.” Looking back at the grammar and syntax of the phrase, I decided on the following translation:

“Prince Asolfo is a very spoiled child,

The principality is held hostage when he’s riled.”

Moving on to the next couplet, I drafted my basic translation:

“Screaming, screeching, kicking the rascal

And to the governesses, he is a real knucklehead.”

Clearly, this would be more challenging. None of the phrases gave a clear place to start, and the translation of “zuccone” as “knucklehead” just didn’t seem to work, which made me feel like the real knucklehead. Reading it again, I decided first of all that I didn’t like the way the verbs sounded with the -ing ending; it lacked the immediacy and staccato rhythm of the original. So “screaming” or “screeching” could become “screams” or “screeches” and “scalcia,” “kicks.” I revised the order of the phrase for a better flow, “The rascal screams, screeches, and kicks,” which wasn’t bad, but then thinking of synonyms, I had an epiphany. What if instead of “screams” or “screeches,” I used “yells,” which rhymes with “rebels?” Even though it wasn’t a perfect translation of “zuccone” (which would really mean something close to blockhead, giving an idea of stupidity), it still helped paint a picture of a poorly behaved prince who threw tantrums when asked to study. I decided to go with this option:

“The rascal bangs, kicks, and yells

And with his governesses, he rebels.”

I felt satisfied that this translation brought the spoiled little prince who didn’t behave himself to life, that the rhymes were cute, and that the rhythm of the original was mirrored enough to let the author’s brilliance shine through.

If another translator were to work on this piece, I am sure that the result would be much different. We each bring our own ideas and abilities to our work, and my history and personality informed the choices I made. If I were to be asked to translate this work today for the first time, the final result would likely be different.

If you're curious, this piece is from a book called “The Little Prince Astolfo” by Monica Corimbu and beautifully illustrated by Sara Sotgiu. You can find the English version here or, for those interested in reading the original Italian version, you can find it here.