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”Happy Babel?” Translation in Europe.

”Europe est fondée sur les traductions.” Meschonnic, Henri. Poétique du traduire. (Paris: Verdier, 1999): 32.

Romanian-American writer Andrei Codrescu tells the following story:

  ”One August evening in 1956, when I was ten years old, I heard a thousand-year-old shepherd wrapped in a cloak of smoke tell a story around a Carpathian campfire. He said that a long time ago, when time was an idea whose time hadn’t come, when the pear trees made peaches, and when fleas jumped into the sky wearing iron shoes weighing ninety-nine pounds each, there lived in these parts a sheep called Mioritza.
The flock to which Mioritza belongs is owned by three brothers. One night, Mioritza overhears the older brothers plotting to kill the youngest in the morning, in order to steal his sheep. The younger brother is a dreamer, whose ‘head is always in the stars.’ Mioritza nestles in his arms, and warns the boy about the evil doings soon to unfold, and begs him to run away. But, in tones as lyrical as they are tragic, the young poet-shepherd tells his beloved Mioritza to go see his mother after he is killed, and to tell her that he didn’t really die, that he married the moon instead, and that all the stars were at the wedding. The boy then tells Mioritza the name of each star, where it came from, and what its job is, just in case the mother, who is not easily fooled, wants to know names and faces. Before morning, the older brothers murder the young shepherd, as planned. There is no attempt to resist, no counterplot, no new deviousness. Fate unfolds as foretold. The moon has a new husband, and the story must be known.
Mioritza wanders, looking for the boy’s mother. But she tells everyone along the way the story as well. The murder was really a wedding, the boy married the moon, and all the stars were present. She names each star and explains where it came from. The Pleiades are bad girls who swept dust into the eyes of the sun. The Little Dipper feeds kind milk to the poor because it had once been an evil Titan who wasted his gold. Venus was once a vain queen who loved an evil angel. The circle of Orion is made of girls who can’t stop dancing. There are carpenters, witches, and smiths up there, worlds of people transformed and made forever exemplary. Mioritza knows everyone in the sky. She never tires of the story. She laments the death of her beloved with stories of the origin of the worlds.
Her wandering takes her across the rivers of the Carpathian mountains to the Black Sea, a path that describes the natural border of Romania. Her migration defines the space of the people, a space the Romanian poet Lucian Blaga called ‘mioritic.’ Mioritza herself is the moving border of the nation, a storytelling border whose story is borderless and cosmic. She calls into being a place and a people that she circumscribes with narrative.”(2)

          The tale of Mioritza(3), here in Andrei Codrescu's version, is ”Romania’s most enduring cultural text.”(4) A fundamental component of Romanian national and cultural identity, it serves as the founding myth of Romania, construing both its origin and its destiny. Romanians recognize themselves and their nation in the story: Mioritza epitomizes their resilience in the face of occupation and oppression, humiliation and violence throughout their tormented history, a resilience that is coupled with and arises from a certain fatalistic streak. The young shepherd’s murder constitutes yet another expulsion from Paradise, yet another original sin. As a virtual big bang it calls into existence time, societal order, a country and a culture, a people and their history.
          More than the young shepherd’s actual fate it is Mioritza’s telling of the tale that establishes Romania, a text inscribed by and ascribed to the Romanian language. The wandering ewe draws an invisible border, and the resulting ”Mioritic space” outlines ”a geography of the Romanian poetic imagination.”(5) Her continual retelling sets up a mise en abîme: the tale I have related here is that of Andrei Codrescu, is that of the old Romanian shepherd, is that of Mioritza, is that of the young brother. The fable has been translated from Romanian to ”Sheep”, then again to Romanian, from Romanian to English, from myth to theory.
          En route, Mioritza’s story transforms everyone who hears it. Everyone she meets turns into a Romanian, for it is the myth and the shared knowledge of it that makes a Romanian a Romanian. Hence, storytellers like Mioritza, like Andrei Codrescu, like this author, ”Romanians” ourselves, have produced innumerable compatriots in passing. By retelling this tale, we have ensured the survival and transmission of the myth and have contributed to the spiritual and cultural proliferation of Romania.
Had Mioritza continued her journey across the continent, all of Europe would be Romanian today: Athens, Sarajevo, Barcelona, Paris, Berlin, Bratislava, Helsinki… But other lands in other parts have had their own Mioritzas–storytellers and chroniclers who, in their own stories, have captured the concrete and conceptual horizons of their cultures. Etched into national collective memories, the different stories, myths, legends and fables distinguish the different civilizations and peoples. Robin Hood, for example, is an English legend, the Lorelei is German, and fairy tales about the Baba Yaga witch are usually from Russia. Some stories, such as that of Little Red Riding Hood, have transcended linguistic and ethnic boundaries as well as geographical borders, and are therefore shared property. Le Petit chaperon rouge is known in Charles Perrault’s version, whereas Rotkäppchen was immortalized by the Brothers Grimm.
          Just as the Grimm brothers supposedly roamed and collected stories (6), just as Mioritza kept telling her tale, storytellers everywhere have been charting their own territory. Sometimes some sheep wander off to graze on neighboring meadows, adapting and modifying their foreign stories for consumption at home. Sometimes what they deem their own cultural heritage turns out to have been in translation already: Perrault’s Le Petit chaperon rouge for example was included in the Grimm’s national storytelling project Kinder- und Hausmärchen in the guise of a German folktale. Sometimes translations have become such literary milestones that the existence of an original is commonly forgotten altogether, as in the case of the clergyman Konrad’s Rolandslied (1170), a translation of the Chanson de Roland.
          Everywhere in Europe they are out in the pastures, those sheep-translators, browsing foreign grasslands, picking up foreign tales, making them their own. Just as Mioritza demarcated Romania with her story of sin and redemption, translators have circumscribed Europe by translating. Through their art they have created it as a cultural space, as a translating and as a translated continent. Its translated essence has defined Europe and set it off from other hemispheres. Translations have also spun a net of inner coherence: shared stories connect the distinct and yet related cultures that inhabit Europe.
          Translation, and the curiosity and appreciation of otherness it presupposes, has served as a continual impetus for literature. In fact some translations triggered new literary movements: the emergence of the Conte fantastique, for example, was owed to the translation of E.T.A. Hoffmann’s tales; French Romanticism resulted from Madame de Staël’s and other translations of German Romantic authors; translating Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry inspired the Symbolist movement; and the French versions of Freud’s theories put the Surrealists onto the scene. William Shakespeare’s plays are classics in many national traditions, such as in their German versions by Ludwig Tieck and Friedrich Schlegel, and he is also considered ”Poland’s National Poet.” (7)Translations of Lev Tolstoy’s works belong to our literary canons just as renderings of texts by Emile Zola, Samuel Beckett, and Arundhati Roy do. Some of the greatest thinkers and writers of all times have been translators as well, e.g. Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, Paul Auster, and 2002 Nobel Prize laureate Imre Kertesz. Being translated is a sure indication of success as well; even a writer of Friedrich Nietzsche’s renown was eager to see his texts translated into French for that would make him ”a properly European writer.” (8) Martin Luther’s rendition of the Bible is commonly credited with instituting a modern German language and thereby preparing the ground for a unified German nation, a feat of political and historical import indeed.
          While translation may be viewed as a peaceful variant of Europe’s history of conquest and annexation, it is also a gesture of curiosity and understanding, of reaching out rather than aggressing, a stance that is inclusive rather than divisive. And yet, if translation is the essential European practice how then could Europe have been the theater of so many devastating wars? How could the atrocities of the two World Wars have been possible? How could the Holocaust have been allowed to happen? In Alexis Nouss’ words:

  ”[S]i la vocation naturelle de l’Europe est de nourrir une culture de traduction, une culture en traduction, pourquoi et comment a-t-elle radicalement pu faillir à sa mission, trahir son essence, ce qu’elle fit il y a un demi-siècle ? Quelle en est l’implication quant à la vérité ou l’authenticité d’une telle dimension traductive ?” (9)

          It is no surprise that Alexis Nouss formulated this question in an essay on the poet Paul Celan. After all Celan’s poetry is a response to a similar query, which pervaded poetry and other arts in the decades following World War Two. It is a coming to terms with Theodor Adorno’s postulate that to write poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric. Precluding the implicit question, however, Adorno proffers a solution: the suspension of poetic and thence of all artistic creation. A solution, though, which for Celan isn’t one. On the contrary–in a true proliferation of poems Celan proposed a poetics that, while being highly autobiographic and concrete, constantly reflected on language and on poetry itself. His is a translatory stance. An acclaimed translator and multilingual writer, he straddled several literary, cultural and linguistic traditions, fusing them into one new poetic language. (10) Therefore translation for Celan was not only a historic task, (11) it was the only possible way to salvage poetry. Poetry’s response to Auschwitz then was Babel, and the redemption for the Holocaust was the coexistence and re-creation of all languages in one. But if poetry’s salvation was translation, in all its manifestations, what does this mean for the art of translation? How did translation fail to prevent Auschwitz? If translation is a solution for poetry what then is the solution for translation?
          The answer to these questions has been enacted and put into practice in the aftermath of World War Two. While translation and poetry are indeed related, translation has an additional pragmatic and political dimension that had not been actualized before. This function is especially evident in its oral form, that of interpretation, and most specifically in simultaneous interpretation, which has gained an unprecedented importance in international and political relations. The first instance of large-scale, organized simultaneous interpretation, supplemented by other forms of interpreting and translating, occurred during the Nuremberg Trial, which took place from November 1945 until August 1946. The trial was held in German, English, Russian and French; ”multilingual instantaneous interpretation” was an integral, structural part of the proceedings and an essential factor in its planning and its success. (12) Some 300 translators and interpreters were used during the course of the tribunal. (13) Questions and testimony were transposed in real time, which enabled allied justices to try and convict 22 leading Nazi commanders. Political and military officials were held internationally accountable for their actions, and the concepts of war crime and genocide were defined for the very first time. Nuremberg was certainly ”an exemplary–and almost unparalleled–instance of human and technical triumph over the linguistic obstacles that can otherwise impede the implementation of the loftiest sentiments of fairness.” (14) The intensity of the deliberations, documented in photographs and written accounts, with defendants and prosecutors, court staff and lawyers, interpreters and their supervisors crowded into the courtroom, make it seem as if not only the Nazis were on trial. Nuremberg made clear that humanity and the Humanities had failed. Translation as an art had not delivered upon its seeming promise. Literally brought to court, translation was forced to assume a new, decisive role.
          Since then oral translation has been a recognized profession, and simultaneous interpretation has become part of any interpreter’s training. Interpreting has made translation, and the translator, audible and visible, (15) a tangible authority in the courtroom or in the conference booth. ”Unlike translators, interpreters are seen by their customers. They make face-to-face communication possible. They identify with the speaker by speaking in the first person. They present the speaker's ideas and convictions with the same intensity and the same shades of meaning.” (16) This human presence renders the different parties seemingly impartially. It allows for immediate communication. It was simultaneous interpretation that has enabled international accountability. As a political and judicial tool it has conditioned exchange and exchanges in areas as diverse as business, politics, technology, culture, and ecology.
          In 1946 simultaneous interpretation was adopted for all sessions of the United Nations General Assembly, (17) and subsequently by many other international organizations. Since its inception in 1957 the European Economic Community, today’s European Union, has practiced translation in all its forms. At present the EU, which was renamed and reconfigured in the 1992 Maastricht Treaty and other agreements, unites as many as 15 member states, with several candidates bidding for admission. EU institutions and politics have evolved into such a ubiquitous fact of life that for many Europeans today the term Europe implies the European Union. Europe also means the political, economic and social premises at the core of the EU’s structure as well as a somewhat idealized, unspecific set of European values and ideas that is continually being renegotiated.
          The principle of translation is one of them: based on the explicit understanding that language is a prime characteristic of personal and national identity, the languages of Europe are regarded as an immense, multiform cultural heritage entrusted to the care of all Europeans. (18) Since multilingualism is the ”linchpin” of the European Union, it is EU policy that the official language of each member state is an official and working language, regardless of geographical size, economical and political status or the number of inhabitants. According to the ‘policy of the (now) twelve originals,’ (19) documents are prepared in all of these languages, and ”[a]ll language versions of the EU's legal instruments have equal legal force.” (20) Naturally, the notion that each version is an original is more of a political than a practicable reality: original documents are translated which then serve as originals themselves. (21) For this purpose, the European Union employs an army of full-time translators, supplemented by free-lance translators in their respective countries. The European Commission’s Translation Service is the biggest one in Europe and the world, and uses up about half of the Commission’s budget, (22) or 0.8% of that of the entire EU. (23) Of the twenty-seven languages spoken in the countries of the European Union twelve are official and eleven are working languages of the EU. (24) This results in 110 language permutations for translation and interpreting purposes. (25) Each year over 1,200,000 pages are translated, a stack of documents more than 100 meters tall. These reams of translations, this ambitious ”tower of paper” (26) seems to measure up to the tower of Babel, and yet is supposed to redeem it.
          Translation provides the interior, communicative structure for the workings of the European Union. It puts members on an equal footing and overrides the established hierarchies of languages, where, like a currency, (27) ”smaller” languages from smaller countries are of lesser market value than ”greater” ones. Greater languages usually mean ”greater” literatures that are valued and translated more than smaller ones. Despite such considerations of markets and size the specific worth of a language is impossible to determine; one language can only be expressed by another one, just as one currency can only be translated into another currency. (28)
          As of January 1, 2002 the majority of EU members have adopted a common vehicular ”language,” a common currency. (29) As a sort of translated currency, or an Esperanto of a currency, the euro has made Europe and the European Union tangible. With its common design on one side of the coins and the nationally distinct designs on the reverse, the euro inadvertently and gradually introduces the other countries into every citizen’s wallets and pockets. The foreign coins exemplify the (co)existence of languages and cultures in Europe. While of course still just a currency, the euro is also a powerful idiom: it may be the most important public symbol of a common European identity and is intended as such. (30) While everyone in Euroland had to give up a material token of it, their national and ethnic identities have remained unscathed.
          Rather than eroding it, contact confirms one’s own identity, for, as translation critic Henri Meschonnic posits, ”l’identité advient par l’altérité au lieu de s’y opposer” [identity comes from otherness instead of being opposed to it]. (31) Flexible and relative, identity arises from and is reinforced in interaction rather than separation. It would be illusory of course to expect everyone to study one another’s languages. In the open multicultural Europe Umberto Eco envisions, translation and other forms of cross-cultural communication would be part of a common consciousness:

  ”Polyglot Europe will not be a continent where individuals converse fluently in all the other languages; in the best of cases, it could be a continent where differences of language are no longer barriers to communication, where people can meet each other and speak together, each in his or her own tongue, understanding, as best they can, the speech of others. In this way, even those who never learn to speak another language fluently could still participate in its particular genius, catching a glimpse of the particular cultural universe that every individual expresses each time he or she speaks the language of his or her ancestors and his or her tradition.” (32)

          By acquiring new languages then, for passive understanding rather than for active use, says Eco, Europeans would learn to appreciate one another’s culture, history and idiosyncrasies. The open-minded, educated citizen Eco proposes, who can converse across linguistic and cultural boundaries would be a sort of ‘ideal European,’ the exact opposite of the proverbial ‘Ugly American.’ (33)
          Meanwhile, some Europeans are apprehensive of losing their cultural peculiarities. Time and again such fears bubble up in fierce disputes over beer, cheese or toilet bowl shapes. At the same time Europeans have slowly come together through joint study programs and joint ventures but also through trade, travel and television. (34) Foreign exposure has increased in the past decades, especially on the air: (35) TV programs such as the German detective series ”Derrick” have long become European staples, as have international game shows and the bilingual French-German television channel Arte. The decades-old annual Eurovision song contest has fascinated viewers for its tallying of points in English and French and for the different countries represented. It is a fitting metaphor for the peaceful competition of cultures and languages and their worldviews. At the Eurovision this friendly competition is re-decided every year and therefore never final.
          Indeed cultural differences should be regarded as assets--and can be very entertaining, such as the ones portrayed in this classic hyperbole:

  ”In the European heaven the cooks would be French, the policemen British, the mechanics German, the lovers Italian and the whole system would be run by the Swiss. But in the European hell the cooks would be British, the policemen German, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss and the system would be run by the Italians.” (36)

          When this joke (or versions of it) first started circulating, the European Union and its unified currency were still only fictions. In the meantime this whimsical fantasy of Europe has proved to bear a grain of truth. Ideally the European Union would bring out the best in one another and pool particular strengths and expertise for a common good. This delicately balanced, constantly renegotiated entity that is the European Union is clearly no ‘European hell.’ It is no ‘European heaven’ either. Translations have eased the fear of it: in today’s Europe Babel and everything it entailed are no longer a nightmare. The confusion of languages is no longer a punishment, said Roland Barthes, no, ”c’est Babel heureuse.” (37)

  ”It owes its happiness to a kind of subject that finds its pleasure not in the fulfillment of a phantasy of total identity and communal and communicative homogeneity but in difference, for example, in the cohabitation of different languages rather than their unification.” (38)

          This almost Utopian formula will be put to the test as more and more countries join the European Union, among them Romania. New cultural, historical and political backgrounds will come into play as well as new linguistic dimensions. As the EU is still enlarging, an official brochure foresees this for the future:
“When today’s schoolchildren become adults, they may live in a European Union compromising 30 or more countries, with more than 20 languages, a unique blend of cultures, and a sense of solidarity embracing more than 500 million people.” (39)
          Despite this optimism, if all around inter-translation will torpedo the EU’s viability. With the ever greater number of languages, can translation continue to drive the EU or will it rather stifle its efficiency? Is it hubris too to want to counter language confusion through translations? Will this (European) tower of translations hold up or will it end up crumbling as the Tower of Babel did?

Epilogue
          In the fall of 2001 a new French translation of the Bible was published in Paris. (40) It is the result of the work of six years and of fifty poets, Bible scholars, writers and exegetes. La Bible Nouvelle re-enacts a protestant gesture that eluded France before and prevented it from having it its own seminal, authoritative Bible. Still, it may never become what Martin Luther’s version has been for the Germans, or what the King James Bible is for the Anglophone world. After all the French had other and earlier works that galvanized their literature and identity the way Bible translations did in some countries. Yet this replicated act of liberation and assertion, this enormous collective effort not only makes a stand for translation in French culture. Once more it puts into focus this Ur-text that has shaped the languages, cultures and politics of the Occident, of Europe, in different versions. The timing of the project curiously coincides with the introduction of the new currency within the EU. It counterbalances the materialistic nature of the euro. The concurrence of the new French Bible and of the euro is a reminder that translation must operate on two levels: as a persuasive, subtle and intellectual connector of cultures but also a political and judicial tool. In the European Union today translation is no longer only the pastime of a few intellectuals; it is a decreed instrument, a tradition made political imperative. While literary translation and technical translation are regarded as disparate in nature, it is precisely in the convergence of literature and politics, in the double and joint effort in all domains that translation can fulfill its mission.
          Happy Babel? For the moment: yes, indeed. Pour l’instant, oui, en effet. Im Moment jedenfalls: Ja, unbedingt.

Von Ina Pfitzner


1)“Europe” is, of course, an ambiguous, or in Dimitris Eleftheriotis’ words, ”slippery,” term. Jacques Derrida’s concurs that ”on ne sait plus très bien ce qui s’appelle ainsi. A quel concept, en effet, à quel individu réel, à quelle entité singulière assigner ce nom aujourd’hui? Qui en dessinera les frontières?” [“one doesn’t know very well anymore what is called such. Which concept, really, which real individual, which singular entity should be assigned this name nowadays? Who is going to draw its borders?” My translation.] Derrida, Jacques. L’Autre Cap suivi de la démocratie ajournée. (Paris : Editions de Minuit, 1991): 11-12. Again Eleftheriotis: ”With every effort made to pin down its meaning(s), new sets of excluded concepts, overlooked relations and forgotten histories surface.” Eleftheriotis, Dimitris. Popular Cinemas of Europe. Studies of Texts, Contexts and Frameworks. (New York, London: Continuum, 2001): 1. Parting from a rather traditional understanding of the concept, which designates the geographical continent as well as the cultural and political space, I demonstrate that it is the tradition and continued activity of translation that defines Europe.

2) Codrescu, Andrei. The Disappearance of the Outside: a Manifesto for Escape. (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1990): 1-2.

3) “Mioritza” means, literally, “lamb;” from “mioara”—“sheep.” This shepherd’s ballad is known in different versions in Bessarabia, the Banat, Transsylvania, Moldavia, and Muntenia. Cf. adaptations by Mircea Eliade and other Romanian authors.

4) Collins, Richard.“Andrei Codrescu's Mioritic Space.” MELUS [Publication of the Society for the Study of Multi-Ethnic Literature of the United States] 23:3 (1999): 83.

5) Ibid.

6) The German myth of the wandering Grimm brothers turns out to be a fairy tale in itself: “The idea that the Grimms themselves traipsed through the countryside sitting at the feet of doughty peasant tale tellers is pure fiction.” Bacher, Michael in Konzett, Matthias, ed. Encyclopedia of German Literature, Volume 1 A-I. (Chicago: Fitzroy Dearborn, 2000): 378. Rather their informants, among them many French Huguenots, came to visit them in their offices. Likewise the itinerant translators and storytellers in this essay are merely metaphorical; writers and translators often work solely at their desks.

7) Sito, Jerzy. “Shakespeare, Poland’s National Poet.” Delos. no. 3 (1969): 147.

8) Pym, Anthony. “Getting Translated: Nietzsche’s Panama Canal.” Europe et traduction, ed. Michel Ballard. (Arras: Artois Presses Université; Ottawa: les Presses de l’Université d’Ottawa, 1998): 181.

9) Nouss, Alexis. “La traduction comme Ethos européen: le cas de Paul Celan.” Europe et traduction, ed. Michel Ballard. (Arras: Artois Presses Université; Ottawa: Presses de l’Université d’Ottawa, 1998): 248. “[I]f it is Europe’s natural vocation to nurture a culture of translation, a culture in translation, why and how could she so radically fail her mission, betray her essence, which she did half a century ago? What does this imply for the truth or authenticity of such a translatory dimension?” My translation.

10) In his dual work as a translator and poet, Paul Celan personified what Yves Bonnefoy described as a community of translators and poets. The parallel between the two goes back to a similar undertaking. Bonnefoy, Yves. La Communauté des traducteurs. (Strasbourg: Presses Universitaires, 2000): 38.

11) Nouss, 248.

12) The Nuremberg Trial was followed by twelve so-called subsequent Proceedings from 1946 until 1949, which were held in German and English only. For a detailed account of the organization of the trial, its technical and technological challenges as well as the role of interpreting see Gaiba, Francesca. The Origins of Simultaneous Interpretation. The Nuremberg Trial. (Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 1998). View also Morris, Ruth. “Justice in Four Languages or  ‘Interpreters and Mistresses.’” Review of Francesca Gaiba’s The Origins of Simultaneous Interpretation: The Nuremberg Trial, Communicate! 6 (2000): 1. (http://www.aiic.net/ViewPage.cfm/page238.htm)

13) Several of the interpreters recruited and trained for the trial were expatriate Germans, mostly Jews, themselves (such as Wolfe Frank and Eva Colvin). At times defendants and supervisors would assist the relatively inexperienced interpreters in finding the right term. Namely Hermann Göring is reported to have been quite aware of the role of the interpreting process and tried to use it to his advantage. One of the expatriates turned interpreter was Wolfgang Hildesheimer, who became one of the most eminent German-language writers of the post-war period.

14) Morris, cf. note 12.

15) Nonetheless, the interpreter usually remains nameless, and unacknowledged, a plight he shares with the translator. View, for example, Venuti, Lawrence. The Translator's Invisibility: A History of Translation. (London: Routledge, 1995.)

16) Office for Official Publications of the European Communities. Translation and Interpreting. Languages in Action. (Luxembourg: 2001): 6.

17) Baigorri-Jalón, Jesús. ”Bridging the Language Gap at the United Nations.” UNChronicle. vol. XXXVII, no. 1 (2000): http://www.un.org/Pubs/chronicle

18) Der Übersetzungsdienst der Europäischen Kommission. So arbeitet eine vielsprachige Gemeinschaft. (Luxemburg: Amt für amtliche Veröffentlichungen der Europäischen Gemeinschaften, 1998): 4.

19) Wilms, Franz-Josef M. ”Intelligente Textvorbereitung und rechnergestützte Übersetzungshilfen: Chancen für produktiveres Übersetzen?” Übersetzungswissenschaft: Ergebnisse und Perspektiven, ed. Reiner Arntz and Gisela Thome. (Tübingen: Günther Narr Verlag, 1990): 499.

20) Publication of the Translation Service of the European Commission. 1. http://europa.eu.int/comm/translation/en/eyl/en.pdf

21) This in itself undermines the concept of original and translation.

22) Loffler-Laurian, Anne-Marie. “La traduction automatique. Bref historique.” La traduction plurielle, ed. Michel Ballard. (Lille: Presses Universitaires, 1990): 145.

23) Publication of the Translation Service of the European Commission. 5. An expenditure this same brochure comments thus: “Multilingualism costs each European citizen only two euros a year.”

24) The official languages are Danish, Dutch, English, Finnish, French, German, Greek, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, and Swedish. Irish (Gaelic, “Gaeilge”) is regarded as an official language where primary legislation (i.e. the Treaties) is concerned, but is not one of the EU’s  working languages. European Union. Translation and Enlargement. “Why do we need translators? Multilingualism in the EU.” http://europa.eu.int/translation_enlargement/multilingualism_en.htm

25) Touitou-Benitah, Colette. “Le modèle de la traduction en Europe: réalités et potentialités.” Europe et traduction, ed. Michel Ballard. (Arras: Artois Presses Université; Ottawa: les Presses de l’Université d’Ottawa, 1998): 361.

26) Publication of the Translation Service of the European Commission. 2. From personal experience as a translator, the particular relevance or importance of documents produced and commissioned for translation is not always evident. In fact, the EU may be translating more than necessary–particularly with English as its unofficial lingua franca.

27) Munteanu, Romul. “Translation, Mediation, Necessity.” Cahiers roumains d’études littéraires 3 (1986): 35.

28) Mercier, Daniel. “Une ‘mesure commune’ des langues européennes à l’âge classique.” Europe et traduction, ed. Michel Ballard. (Arras: Artois Presses Université; Ottawa: les Presses de l’Université d’Ottawa, 1998): 108.

29) EU members were entitled to opt out of the monetary union but compromises are not allowed on other issues, such as translation. 

30) Shore, Cris. Building Europe. The Cultural Politics of European Integration. (London ; New York : Routledge, 2000): 115.

31) Meschonnic, Henri. “Sur l’importance d’une poétique de la traduction.” Etudes de Lettres 4 (1989): 6.

32) Eco, Umberto. In Search for the Perfect Language, trans. James Fentress. (Oxford, UK & Cambridge, USA: Blackwell, 1995): 350-351.

33) This is a concept open-minded, educated Americans have coined for those of their compatriots who travel overseas (namely to Europe) and behave starkly insensitive toward cultural and linguistic differences.

34) The French motion picture L’auberge espagnole (directed by Cédric Klapisch, 2002) condenses the European Union into a group of ERASMUS students from France, the United Kingdom, Spain, Belgium, Italy, Germany, and Denmark sharing an apartment in Barcelona. The film depicts everyday life, including romance, study, cultural conflicts, and subtly addresses stereotypes. The students mostly interact in English or Spanish but also in their native languages, and are subtitled throughout the picture. Barcelona, to their surprise, is Catalan and so professors and comrades speak that language rather than Spanish. In this particular episode the film draws attention to the role of regional and linguistic identity, which may come to the fore in a unified Europe more than within a nation state.

35) Shalini Venturelli has underlined the significance of adequate information and exchange of information for a European identity. Venturelli, Shalini. ”The Information Society.” Europe’s Ambiguous Unity–Conflict and Consensus in the Post-Maastricht Era, ed. Alan W. Cafruny and Carl Lankowski. (Boulder, London: Lynne Rienner, 1997): 85-107.

36) Reeves, Nigel. ”Presidential Address ATG May 13 1989 given at the joint MLA/ATG AGM. 1992 and the Linguist.” Modern Languages 70:3 (1989): 131.

37) Barthes, Roland. Le Plaisir du texte. (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1973): 10.

38) Nägele, Rainer. Echoes of Translation. Reading Between Texts. (Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1997): 8.

39) European Commission. Directorate-General for Press and Communication. The European Union: Still enlarging. (Luxembourg: Office for Official Publications of the European Communities, 2001): 4.

40) Boyer, Frédéric, ed. La Bible Nouvelle. (Paris: Bayard, 2001)

 

 

 

 
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