Dear colleagues and friends, I’m so happy to be here with you tonight celebrating the ATTLC/LTAC’s 50th anniversary!
I came to literary translation after various other careers, successful and less successful. I knew right away that I had found my true vocation. Everything I ever learned could be put to use, not only my studies in literature but all my experiences, even down to conversations I overheard on the bus. All the stuff of life, as reflected in literature.
And when I translated my first book and joined the LTAC, I knew I had found my organizational home. Howard had preceded me as a member, and I was welcomed into the small group of mainly French and English translators who at that time made up the association. They were few enough to fit into a Montreal backyard for a barbecue. And they were the most interesting, smartest, most erudite – and funniest! – people. And often they were so modest that they didn’t even know it. Not very many readers knew it either, because literary translators were largely invisible; the work, the love, the artistry they poured into their translations were rarely acknowledged.
My years in the LTAC saw the association develop, becoming a truly Canada-wide organization, with active members across the country. We began to attract more translators working with languages other than English and French; our Glassco Prize was awarded over the years to translations from Spanish, Hungarian, Russian, Yiddish, Danish, and Papiamentu into French or English, reflecting a long-cherished dream of the association to represent all literary translators in Canada, whatever their working languages.
Both at home and internationally, those years were good years for literary translators, with the publishing world and academia showing increased interest and respect for our profession. Translators were recognized as creators in copyright law and given a share in public lending right monies. Publishers were being persuaded to put translators’ names on book covers. Translation awards were established. Book prizes began to allot a portion to the translators of winning works. More and more translators were writing books about the art and craft of literary translation. Our remuneration slowly increased. Yet literary translation remains a labour of love.
Our profession is now under threat from AI. But there’s no AI program, no matter how “intelligent,” that will ever be able to replicate the literary translator’s loving engagement with a text, the essential process that takes place when the reflective, imaginative human intelligence is brought to bear on a literary text. Love is the superpower we literary translators bring to our work.
© Picture : Hélène Bughin