Books: Rizal, Lost in Translation

FROM TIME to time I get the urge to pick up one of the Classics, you know, to get a little culture into the ol' brain.




Noli Me Tangere, I knew we would meet again.


Though we had it in high school and university, I can't really say I have actually read the Noli. I just never really took assigned work seriously back then, as I had, uh, better things to do with my life.

Well, the time had now come.

So I bought a copy of the new Penguin Classics edition, which came out in 2006. As I understand, it's the first English version of Noli to come out of such a major publishing house. This new edition, hailed as a "beautiful new translation" on the back blurb, was translated from the Spanish by Harold Augenbraum, the executive director of the National Book Foundation (wow).

Now, I have to admit that I hardly know any Spanish beyond para bailar La Bamba, and call me crazy, but I think there is something... strange about this translation.

To illustrate, let's look at just a tiny slice of text, from one of the more inconsequential, but nevertheless memorable scenes, the one featuring hot chocolate (it's from Chapter XI). I have marked in blue some words that stood out.

Penguin:

"Are you going to visit the parish house of the Dead Fly? Well, if they offer you chocolate, which I really doubt they will do, but anyway, if they do, be careful. If he calls the attendant and says, 'Fulanito, make a hot bowl of chocolate, okay?' then don't worry. But if he says 'Fulanito, make a bowl of hot chocolate, all right?' then grab your hat and hightail it out of there."

"What?" the frightened listener would say. "They give you big bowls? My lord!"

"N-no..."

"What then?"

"'Hot chocolate, okay' means thick and 'hot chocolate, all right' means watery."

Now compare that to the original text:

-¿Va usted al convento a visitar al curita Moscamuerta? Si le ofrece chocolate, ¡lo cual dudo! tenga usted cuidado. Si llama al criado y dice: Fulanito, haz una jícara de chocolate ¿eh? entonces no tenga miedo, pero si dice: Fulanito, haz una jícara de chocolate ¡ah! entonces coja usted el sombrero y márchese corriendo.

-¿Por qué? -preguntaba espantado su interlocutor-. ¿Acaso el fraile pega jicarazos?

-¡Hombre, tanto como eso no!

-¿Entonces?

-Chocolate ¿eh? significa espeso, y chocolate ¿ah? aguado.

3 THINGS.

(1) "Dead Fly" is a direct (literal) translation of "Moscamuerta". However, a quick google reveals that the term mosca muerta also refers to a hypocrite or a person feigning innocence. It is akin to the English idiom "butter wouldn't melt in her mouth".

It's an idiom, dude.

(2) In the original Spanish, the text refers to una jícara de chocolate. And later on, it refers to el fraile pega jicarazos. Now according to google, jícara is a "taza pequeña, generalmente con el fondo más grueso que las paredes, que se usa para tomar chocolate", the likes of which can be seen here here here and here. It is a cup or bowl made from the fruit (gourd) of the calabash tree.

On the other hand, the very similar sounding jicarazo, again from a quick Google, means "propinación alevosa de veneno" or in other words, a poisoned drink (here here). It seems Rizal was engaging in a bit of word-play, which the Penguin edition totally missed, translating instead to the utterly nonsensical "What? They give you big bowls?".

Wassuuuuup?

(3) Finally, 'Hot chocolate, okay', 'hot chocolate, all right'?? Jesus Christ on an effin raft man. I know one needs room to be creative, but chocolate eh and chocolate ah have long since achieved iconic status among many, many Filipinos, I think it was rather ill advised to have changed it. It just sounds soo wrong aaargh.

And to round things out, here is the same passage from Charles Derbyshire 's 1912 translation:

"Are you going over to the convento to visit the sanctimonious rascal there, the little curate? Yes! Well, if he offers you chocolate which I doubt-but if he offers it remember this: if he calls to the servant and says, 'Juan, make a cup of chocolate, eh!' then stay without fear; but if he calls out, 'Juan, make a cup of chocolate, ah!' then take your hat and leave on a run."

"What!" the startled visitor would ask, "does he poison people? Carambas!"

"No, man, not at all!"

"What then?"

"'Chocolate, eh!' means thick and rich, while 'chocolate, ah!' means watered and thin."

Wasn't that so much better?

The verdict:

Hate to say it, but it looks like the new Noli has simply been phoned in.