Why I Hate Untranslated Quotes
Nil sapientiae odiosius acumine nimio, indeed!
Upon securing an old copy of “Tristram Shandy” from a thrift store, I opened the book to the title page, eager to dive into the 541-page satirical masterpiece, when I saw something that made me shudder; it was my nemesis from years past: an untranslated quote.
Closing the book, I set it aside as several unwelcome memories came rushing back…
A) A Latin phrase that Poe inserted at the beginning of “The Purloined Letter”:
“Nil sapientiae odiosius acumine nimio.”
Did Edgar P believe this phrase would help foreign-language-challenged readers like me to better understand the story? If so, why the hell didn’t he present said phrase in my native tongue? Was he lazy, or just showing off? The best he could (or would) do was attribute the quote to Seneca, leaving me to fend for myself at the library.
B) This little gem, inserted between the title and first paragraph of Poe’s “MS Found in a Bottle”:
“Qui n’a plus moment a vivre N’a plus rien a dissimuler.”
Apparently, this quote originated with someone by the name of “Quinault- Atys.” Was this a friend? An associate? Edgar’s bookie? Maybe his brother-in-law?
In the end, it doesn’t matter. If Poe was showing off, that’s his business, but why inflict yet another mystery on me? I have a hard enough time figuring out Poe’s stuff, as it is.
C) Here’s James Joyce, lending “un mano ayudante”:
Even if I knew Ovid’s work backwards and forwards (or sideways, if that helps), I’d have nary a clue about the meaning or significance of the phrase.
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D) And then there’s British mystery writer Edmund Crispin, whose favorite part-time sleuth, Gervase Fen, is an Oxford Professor of English Language and Literature. So, it’s understandable that Fen or his cronies would break out in Latin or French, from time to time- not that it isn’t still irritating as hell:
“Too Watteau, my dear Charles,” he remarked. “Embarquement pour Cythere.”
“Come on,” he beckoned them. “La propriete, c’est le vol…”
“Conjuro te!” shrieked the Rector. “Conjuro te, Satanas!”
“In nomine Patris et Filii and all the rest of it,” bawled the Rector.
What a jerk.
And on and on it goes with Crispin’s characters, chapter in and chapter out. I’m just grateful the author leavens his tales with plenty of humor, or I wouldn’t last ten pages.
Now, before you dismiss me as an old, intolerant crank, no one is more understanding than I am of the suffering endured by a foreigner, plopped down amidst people whose language he doesn’t speak; that was me, many years ago, when assigned to serve a two-year church mission in Argentina.
Before I could depart for South America, I had to endure an eight-week crash course in Spanish, immersion-style. While I did learn enough to ask things like “What time is it?”, “When do we eat?”, “Where’s the bathroom, Senor?”, and “What happened to all the toilet paper?”, certain nuances of the Spanish language continued to escape me.
Forever confusing the verbs Ser and Estar, I would say “I’m sick,” not understanding that if I used “estar” instead of “ser,” it meant I was a mental case. If I later said “I feel better,” but used the word mujer instead of mejor, it meant “I feel woman.” I’ll leave to your imagination the impression I’d make on someone if I confused “I have good taste” with “I taste good.”
Though I always cut non-English speakers a lot of slack in their struggles to communicate, it’s those famous writers who cavalierly toss out untranslated phrases- like bread to hungry pigeons- who drive me crazy.
Maybe that’s why I enjoy the work of Robert Benchley so much. The king of comedy from the 1920s through the early 1940s, Robert B made fun of everything and everyone, so keen was his ability as an observer of human nature.
The following is his take on “helpful” phrases he believed an American needed to know, back in the day:
By the way, that Greek phrase at the beginning of “Tristram Shandy” is a quotation from the Enchiridion of Epictetus, a Stoic philosopher. It means:
“Of all the things which are, some are good, others bad, and others indifferent.”
That clears up everything nicely now, doesn’t it?
