The Fine Art of Interpreting:
tougher than choppin' cotton
By Jack Seward
In my multi-checkered past, I have been a foot-soldier, I have hoed cotton in north Texas when the thermometer read 112 degrees Fahrenheit, and I have interpreted between Japanese and Americans. But should our gracious Lord on the morrow instruct me to return to my preference of the above three activities, I would surely opt for either of the first two well before the last, interpreting--and by extension, translation between English and Japanese--being without question one of the most difficult and least-appreciated tasks that the mind of man can conceive.
Reflecting the problems faced by a foreigner when he undertakes to learn Japanese, Saint Francis Xavier, a Jesuit missionary who first came to Japan in 1549, reported to the headquarters of his order in Europe that "the Japanese language must have been devised by Satan to prevent the teaching of the Gospel to the people of that island Empire."
A more recent observer has written that Japanese is one of the most effective barriers to mutual understanding ever devised. Linguists have estimated that whereas, on the average, it would take an American about 3,000 hours to learn one of the Romance languages, it would require 11,000 for him to learn Japanese--but even that latter estimate may be low. In the opinion of this writer, who has been wrestling with Japanese for more than 50 years, three years of full-time study followed by ten years of residence in Japan (with its obvious concomitant of frequent use of the language) would be the minimum required to achieve fluency in both the spoken and written languages.
And even though one may acquire such fluency and be able to conduct his linguistic affairs to his own satisfaction, it does not necessarily follow that he is, ipso facto, a competent interpreter/translator, which occupation calls for stamina, patience, a capacity for intense concentration, mental quickness and alertness, the ability to memorize technical terminology quickly, and--for reasons to be explained later-- a thick skin.
The ideal interpreter would be a person raised and schooled in both languages and then trained in specific interpreting skills. Although not yet in abundant supply, there is a growing number of young Japanese who could, with proper training in interpreting--as distinct from language--fill these roles in the future. These youngsters, for the most part, are the children of the representatives of Japanese trading companies and other large corporations who have spent years in the U.S., Canada, Australia, England and other English-speaking lands. A great many of these families had to raise their children in places where there were no schools offering instruction in the Japanese language and where, perforce, their children had to attend English-speaking schools as well as play with children who knew no Japanese. That this phenomenon did not exist in reverse is due to the fact that most foreign children living in Japan attend English-speaking schools or schools where other tongues, such as German or French, are the vehicle of instruction and consequently learn on only the "kitchen Japanese" they pick up from maids and Japanese playmates.
If Japanese is difficult for English-speaking foreigners to cope with, then it should follow that English is equally as hard for the Japanese to learn, which it does. The difference here is that the Japanese devote a great deal more effort to the acquisition of English, which is a required subject throughout the six years of junior and senior high school in Japan, followed, for many, by four years of further study in college.
Considering that English is the closest thing the world has to a universal language today, this is not surprising, nor is it surprising that so few Americans feel a compulsion to learn Japanese when all those around them in Japan seem to have some competence in English. (It has been estimated that seven percent of Japan's population can communicate reasonably well in English.)
Japanese is difficult for native speakers of English--and English for Japanese --because these are cultures that developed almost entirely independently of one another. The thought processes of the Japanese, and therefore, the structure of their language, are radically different from those of the West, where we take pride in being clear, direct, eloquent and what we call "honest," whereas the Japanese value vagueness and avoid statements that are too direct, clear and unequivocal. They are fond of incomplete sentences and often end even simple declarative sentences with the word "but," to suggest that there may well be other reasonable points of view and to avoid the arrogance of insisting on their own. They prefer suggestion to statement, implication to specification. To us words are the total of communication; to the Japanese they are a tool.
In fact, Japanese society is characterized by its noticeable lack of emphasis on language as a means of communication. Verbalization is held in low esteem, and it is considered poor policy to use words to persuade. Language is a ritual not necessarily to be taken at face value. The homogenous Japanese people, from centuries of living in close quarters and sharing the same lifestyles, have developed a degree of intuitive feeling for each other that renders much talk superfluous.
Consider what some prominent Japanese have said on this subject: "to give in so many articulate words one's innermost thoughts and feelings is taken among us as an unmistakable sign that they are neither profound nor very sincere," (Inazo Nitobe, writer). "Vagueness is a virtue," (Yone Noguchi). "In the Japanese language, exactness is purposely avoided," (Sumie Mishima, writer). "We simply do not think it civilized to be too direct in expression," (Yasushi Akashi, U.N. member). "A strong distrust develops between Japanese if they try to express everything through words," (Shuichi Kato, essayist).
Given the difficulty of both Japanese and English, it should come as no surprise that more than a few colossal, even disastrous, errors have been made in interpretation and translation. Some of these have been retold often, but repetition in no way diminishes their veracity--or lesson.
Frank Gibney, in his book Japan: The Fragile Superpower, refers to the confusion in last-minute negotiations, just prior to Pearl Harbor, between the U.S. Department of State and Japanese Ambassador Kichisaburo Nomura, because the latter may have misinterpreted Cordell Hull's diplomatic politeness as a willingness to negotiate further.
In the summer of 1945, Premier Kantaro Suzuki responded to the Potsdam Declaration by issuing a noncommittal statement that was, in effect, a request for time. Suzuki's wording, however, was ambiguous, especially his use of the word "mokusatsu," whose shadings of meaning include such as "to pass over in silence," "to ignore," "to reject" and "to make no comment." It was the last of these shadings that Suzuki had intended to convey, but the Domei News Agency chose to translate mokusatsu as "to ignore," a translation which paved the way for the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Not too long ago, Premier Sato used the expression "Zensho shimasu" in discussing the textile situation between the U.S. and Japan. Evidently Sato had meant to convey that he would do what he could, but he was making no guarantees of success. When interpreted, however, the English equivalent gave Richard Nixon the clear impression that the Japanese leader was saying, "Leave this matter up to me; I'll take care of it." Sato's inability to do so earned Japan the U.S. president's ire and did a disservice to the relations between the two nations.
The list reads on and on. The casual observer might say: Well, why not get better interpreters? But given the difficulty of the two languages and the differences between the cultures and thought processes of the two peoples, even the very best interpreters, if forced to work at the speed that is usually demanded at international conferences, might not be totally immune to errors. Add to this inherent difficulty the fact that interpreters, as such, are not fully appreciated in either country, serving as small incentive for harder study and greater effort.
Once, years ago, I was called upon to interpret at a business meeting between the vice president of a large West Coast corporation and Mr. Aikawa, a man who had been the tycoon of Japanese industry in Manchuria until 1945. I was there only as a favor to the American participant and was not to be compensated for my linguistic efforts so, in the relaxed atmosphere of the meeting, I thought it not inappropriate, on one occasion, to inject my own observation into the conversation. No sooner had I done so, however, than Mr. Aikawa turned angrily on me to say, "I am not interested in the opinion of an interpreter."
Therefore, I began to be chary of interpreting assignments and tried to avoid them whenever I could, which still was not as often as I would have liked. Even today, when I attend Japanese-American conferences where I do not have to interpret, I am distressed by the short shrift given the interpreter(s) by the Japanese and, to a lesser degree, by the Americans.
Whence comes this Japanese attitude toward interpreters? Partly, of course, it may be resentment against someone who can do something much better than the listener can, but I imagine there is more to it than that. Writing in the Harvard Business Review, Yoshi Tsurumi noted that ever since Japan's first contacts with the West, interpreters have not fared well socially and that no self-respecting Japanese businessman wants to have direct dealings with them.
Perhaps this dislike springs from the suspicion that the interpreter has "gone over to the other side," that to become so proficient in English, the interpreter has had to immerse himself in most things foreign to a depth not considered proper at home. In the West, we can see the same thing in reverse when one of us speaks contemptuously of a fellow countryman who "has gone native" or who "has been out there too long."
Even so, the American failure to appreciate the role of interpreters would seem to be based less on the belief that interpreters are machine-like flunkeys who are trying to make a better living that they deserve from a skill they probably picked up in six weeks at a quickie language school.
Indeed, this is reflective of our entire American attitude toward foreign languages and their acquisition: something you learn in high school or from six weeks of night courses at Interlingua or from just living in a foreign country for a few months. In reality, however, the good interpreters are highly trained professionals who deserve much more understanding, courtesy and reward than they are accustomed to receiving.
Be that as it may, there are certain steps that one can take when he uses the services of an interpreter to make that person's efforts easier and insure a more reliable and efficient transference of his own thoughts to the parties on the other side of the linguistic fence.
First off, one should always take plenty of time to brief the interpreter in advance of what the conference is all about and what the speaker plans to say. If he has made notes of his talk, he should give the interpreter a copy of these the day before, together with literature that explains the business to be discussed. If the subject matter is technical, explain the difficult terminology beforehand--or at least give the interpreter time to do some review on his own.
One should speak slowly and distinctly, while being grammatically correct (and not resorting to "pidgin"). Use simple declarative senteces and straight questions while avoiding the convolutions of double-negatives, complex senteces, jargon, idiom, slang and arcane vocabulary.
When one comes to the major ideas he wishes to emphasize, it would be wise to explain them in more than one way. While one should not frequently question his auditors' comprehension ("Do you understand me?" "Am I getting through to you?"), he should briefly pause at appropriate places to give his listeners--or interpreter--a chance to say they do not understand.
The interpreter should be allowed time to make notes and to interpret every two or three sentences. Be particularly careful of numbers. More mistakes are made because the Japanese counting system is so different. Avoid the figure "one billion" if possible, since it means 1,000,000,000,000 to a European but only 1,000,000,000 to an American--a difference that confuses many Japanese who deal with both continents.
One should not lose confidence in an interpreter who has to resort to a dictionary. On the contrary, he should appreciate the interpreter's zeal to insure that he is functioning competently. No one can know all the words that might come up in a conference. He should not interrupt his interpreter, but wait patiently for his nod to continue, even though his words in Japanese may seem more numerous than they were in English. (Sometimes the interpreter feels it advisable to offer some background information or explanation to what has just been said.)
No interpreter should be expected to work without rest for more than an hour and a half. If the session is expected to last all day, it may be advisable to hire two interpreters--and alternate them hourly.
When the negotiations have ended for the day, it is recommended that a memo of understanding, briefly outlining the matters discussed and agreed upon, be circulated and initialed.
Many Japanese who have some competence in English will choose not to say anything at all in English at such negotiating sessions, but will speak only in Japanese and insist that all English words be interpreted for them . Some foreigners seem to feel that such Japanese are somehow indulging in an underhanded tactic by not using English when they could, but I doubt that any such ulterior motive is involved.
Rather, they probably want to insure their own certain comprehension by waiting for the Japanese interpretation while avoiding the strain (and it always is a strain for all except those who were fortunate enough to grow up truly bilingual) of understanding English. Also, they may want to avoid the risk of appearing presumptuous in the eyes of other Japanese participants less capable in English.
The selection of a competent interpreter is not a matter one can afford to leave to casual chance. When he comes to Japan and circulates among both Japanese and Western residents, the visitor may get the impression at first that there is a plethora of persons of both nationalities who are perfectly fluent in the other's language.
Here is where he should walk with care. The Japanese tend to over-praise as "fluent" any foreigner who can so much as ask directions to Tokyo Station in Japanese, while the foreigners--the vast majority of whom don't know enough Japanese to fill a thimble--perpetuate these exaggerated linguistic evaluations out of ignorance. Rest assured that nine out of ten foreigners described as "fluent in Japanese" are actually not. Or even close to being fluent.
One's recourse must, in most cases, be the professional. The office of the American Chamber of Commerce in Japan or the Office of the Economic Counsellor of the U.S. Embassy may have lists of competent interpreters and translators, while some of the language services have branches in major hotels.From the Sept. 5, 1997 Tokyo Weekender ( http://www.cyber.ad.jp/~weekendr/index.html )
