The Art Of Translation

Kendra Atleework interviews prolific translators Katy Derbyshire and Susan Bernofsky…

 

Fernweh – German 

The opposite of homesickness. Stronger than wanderlust. A deep longing for faraway places.

Fern: Old High German ferni—meaning far, distant

Weh: Old High German: meaning pain, suffering 

 

Two country bumpkins step blinking out of the train station and into Berlin. 

“Look at us,” I say to Patrick. “We’re two country bumpkins in Berlin.” 

We’ve come because Berlin looms like a legend 800km to the north of our little city. Because Patrick—Badisch son of the wooded hills and green quiet—has never looked over the glass-walled chamber of the Bundestag (parliament), never walked across the gray vastness of Alexanderplatz, never drunk a beer in a metal bar next to a friendly patron whose tee-shirt reads FUCK ME JESUS. 

“What’s a country bumpkin?” asks Patrick.

Because we do not share a mother tongue, our conversations often go like this. I tell him it’s a Landei, the literal translation of which is ‘countryside egg’—a reasonable description for the two of us, our clothes and shoes Black-Forest-practical, as if we might at any moment turn around and flee back to the familiar. 

Berlin-based translator and writer, Katy Derbyshire. Photo @ Nane Diehl

Some weeks before, in a cafe back in Freiburg, we read a book together. Patrick read the original by Judith Hermann while I read the translation, We Would Have Told Each Other Everything. 

“The story is a protective space for the narrator, cushioning her like the shell of a nut,” writes Katy Derbyshire in her translation.

A story is also a space for the reader, a space as intimate as the smooth interior of a nutshell. While we read, sometimes Patrick showed me a passage in his book. After one year in Germany, I live my life in translation. Every day I combine sounds in a way that conveys necessary information and, to my ear, nothing more. I can go to the doctor. I can absolve myself when my Pfand bottle causes a jam in the machine.

But in German I drop the emotional weight of words spoken in a mother tongue, the personal and generational memory imbedded in etymology. When I looked at the words in Patrick’s book, I could understand the information imparted there. But the space of the story, that nutshell guarding its undertones of meaning, remained closed to me. 

This is why translator Susan Bernofsky,…

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