On “Skopos and Commission in Translational Action”

Translation is an action. Translation, which is a kind of action, has a purpose. Skopos is the technical word for the aim of translation. Translational action results in a verbal or non-verbal “target text”, whereas translation results in a translatum, which is the resulting target text (Vermeer 2000:221). When the translational action is initiated by the initiator (say, the company who wants a specific advertisement to be translated), the commissioner (say, the coordinator at the translation bureau) who has been informed on the offer of translation calls the expert (ibid 2000:222), which is the translator. All initiator, commissioner and the translator might be the same person as well, and in this case the translator wants to translate a specific text, an even in that case, this action has a purpose, for the translator should explain why he chose to translate this particular text while he could have acted otherwise (ibid 2000:223). If the former example is the case, explaining what kind of purpose s/he has in mind, the initiator should negotiate with the translator on the prospective features of the target text. “A precise specification of aim and mode is essential for the translator” so as for the translator make a good job (ibid 2000:221).The purpose of the source text will direct the translator throughout the process of translation (ibid 2000:222). There might be different purposes in one particular text. In that case the translator will “use the skopos concept with respect to segments of translatum” (ibid 2000:222).
“The source text is oriented towards the source culture” (ibid 2000:222). “Language is part of culture” (ibid 2000:222). “Source and target text may diverge from each other quite considerably”, but in other cases the skopos might also be literal translation of the source text, say for a book of comparative linguistics (ibid 2000:223). “The point is that one must know what one is doing, and what the consequences of such action are” (ibid 2000:223). The action during the process of translating involves decisions: “for an act to be called an action, the person performing it must potentially be able to explain why he acts as he does although he could have acted otherwise” (ibid 2000:223). Cicero argues that “some disadvantage, or some advantage is neglected in order to gain a greater advantage or avoid a greater disadvantage” (cited by Vermeer 2000:223). Tymoczko’s view of translation is similar: “there are many parts that can stand for the whole... which part we pick out determines which aspect of the whole we are focusing on... The metonymic aspects of translation are not random, but systematic” (1999:58) Metonymic here means a part standing for the whole, and its systematicity is no different than the strategy which is determined according to the skopos.

REFERENCES:
Tymoczko, Maria (1999) “The Metonymics of Translation” in Translation in a Post-colonial Context, St. Jerome.
Vermeer, Hans (2000) “Skopos and Commission in Translational Action” in The Translation Studies Reader ed. Lawrence Venuti, New York: Routledge.

On “The Nature and Role of Norms in Translation”

Translational activity has cultural significance. Since culture involves norms, translation is a norm governed activity (Toury 2000:198). According to Toury “socio-cultural constraints have been described along a scale anchored between two extremes: general, relatively absolute rules, on the one hand and pure idiosyncrasies on the other,” and right in the middle of these are found what is called norms (2000:199). Some norms are “more rule like (basic norms), some are weaker (secondary norms or tendencies), and some are almost idiosyncratic (tolerated behavior)” (ibid 2000:199,208).

Norms are constraints, and these constraints are not static, they change over time (ibid 2000:199). “Each type of constraint may, and often does move into its neighboring domain(s) through processes of rise and decline. Thus, mere whims may catch on and become more and more normative, and norms can gain so much validity that they become as binding as rules” or stop being deemed rules, and if the former is realized, in the course of time these constraints become norms (ibid 2000:1999). Norms are acquired by the individual during his/her socialization and always imply sanctions”, and one is evaluated by the society to the extent of her/his adherence to norms (ibid 2000:1999). Another important fact is stated by Herman’s that “non-compliance with a norm does not invalidate the norm” (cited by Toury 2000:200). “At the same time, there would normally be a price to pay for opting for any deviant kind of behavior” (Toury 2000:200), which means the deviant individual shall bear the consequences.
In translation, “initial norm” is constituted in two ways: translator’s subjecting herself/himself to the norms of the original text (adequacy), or subscription to those of the target culture (acceptability) (Toury 2000:201). Even if the translator wants her/his translation to be as adequate as possible, “shifts from the source text will be inevitable” (Toury 2000:201). “Actual translation decisions will necessarily involve some ad hoc combination of, or compromise between the two extremes implied by the initial norm” (Toury 2000:201). In other words, no matter how hard the translator might endeavour, no translation can be totally foreignizing or vice versa.
Preliminary norms are the norms regarding the translation policy (which source texts to be selected for translation) and the directness of translation (whether or not the translation is to be made from a mediating language or not, which languages are accepted as mediating languages, in the event of translation from a mediating language, is it overtly mentioned which mediating language the translation is made from) (Toury 2000:202). It can be said that norms affect the preparation period for the translation process, the translation process itself, and last but not least the product which is the result of such process. Preliminary norms are priceless for shedding light on asymmetric relations between languages, for example, is there a gap in the number of translations made from English into Turkish when compared to those made from Turkish into English? What are the mediating languages Turkish publishers tend to accept to translate from? Operational Norms govern the process of translation itself: “matricial norms govern the selecting of target language material. Omissions and additions may be determined by norms” (Toury 2000:202). Norms are not static, they change over time: “three types of competing norms can be observed in a society: the ones that dominate the centre of the system, the remnants of the previous ones and the rudiments of the new ones” (ibid 2000:205). So “who is allowed by a culture to introduce changes under what circumstances and under what circumstances such changes may be expected to occur and/or be accepted” (ibid 2000:206) can change over time, too.
Norms are not directly observable (ibid 2000:206). In the case of translation, only products, which are translated texts (“textual sources”) give information about the nature of norms (ibid 2000:207). There are also other kinds of texts, which Toury calls “extratextual sources” such as metatexts on translations, but Toury warns against the extratextual sources: “they are likely to lean toward propaganda and persuasion” (ibid 2000:207).

Reference:
Toury, Gideon (2000) “The Nature and Role of Norms in Translation” in The Translation Studies Reader ed. Lawrence Venuti, New York: Routledge.

On “The Position of Translated Literature within the Literary Polysystem”

Even-Zohar argues that translated works in a particular language “correlate in at least two ways”: (a) “in the way their source texts are selected by the target culture…” (b) “in the way they adopt specific norms, behaviors, and policies (Even-Zohar 2000:192-193). Even-Zohar’s including “at least” in this utterance gives me the opportunity to say that another quality such translations share is that they might be selected by the source culture, as well. As İsmail Kaplan argues, this is the result of a translation policy adopted by the USA. His article on George Orwell’s Animal Farm makes it clear that the dominant power USA is capable of getting a work to be translated exactly when it wants it to be translated, not before. So there may also be times when a particular work is selected to be translated by not the target culture but the source culture. This is a fact supporting that systems are always in relation to one another, and also that those occupying the central position have an effect on those occupying the weak or peripheral position.
Regardless of by whom it is selected, how does translation play a major role in shaping the center of the polysystem? When does translation become one of the means of introducing new repertoire? (ibid 2000:193). There are different but related answers can be given to the question: “When a literature is in the process of being established”, “when a literature is ‘peripheral’ or ‘weak’or both”, or “when there are turning points, crises or literary vacuums in a literature” (ibid 2000:194). When a literature is being established it “cannot immediately create texts in all types known to its producers, it benefits from the experience of other literatures” by translating (ibid 2000:194). This assumption is also valid for literatures whose “resources are limited and whose position within a larger literary hierarchy is generally peripheral” (ibid 2000:194). Translation also plays a major role in the making of the repertoire when “no item in the indigenous stock is taken to be acceptable, as a result of which a literary ‘vacuum’ occurs” (ibid 2000:194). In such a vacuum it is easy for foreign models to infiltrate. In his book The Scandals of Translation Lawrence Venuti he is trying to shake the regime of English. This can be interpreted in the light of Even-Zohar’s ideas that Venuti’s political agenda consists of transforming standard(ized) English getting translation to play a major role in the making of the repertoire of English. In fact, Venuti advises translators to be strategic in two things: (a) selecting which foreign texts to translate (b) developing discourses to translate them. These two steps can be compared to Even-Zohar’s “selecting the source text” and “adopting specific norms” mentioned above. Probably Venuti agrees with Even-Zohar that no polysystem can keep occupying the central position forever, and tries to end the occupation of the central language as soon as possible.
Despite the endeavors of Venuti, translation might be yet to begin playing a major role in the realm of English. But when translation assumes a central position (in the making of the repertoire in any language), “in the process of creating new, primary models, the translator’s main concern is not just to look for ready-made models in his home repertoire into which the source texts would be transferable. Instead [she or] he is prepared in such cases to violate the home conventions,” “translation will be close to the original in terms of adequacy” (Even-Zohar 2000:196). This will not be immediately accepted by the reader of the target text; “of course, from the point of view of the target literature the adopted translational norms might for a while be too foreign and revolutionary, and if the new trend is defeated in the literary struggle, the translation made according to its conceptions and tastes will never really gain ground” (Even-Zohar 2000:196). In Toury’s words, the translator who does not conform with the norms of her/his culture will bear the consequences. Even-Zohar says “periods of great change in the home system are in fact the only ones when a translator is prepared to go far beyond the options offered to him by his established home repertoire and is willing to attempt a different treatment of text making” (Even-Zohar 2000:196-197). Is there a great change in the home system of English, or is Venuti, with his 4.000 selling translation in two years, an exception to this rule? Only time will tell.

Reference:
Even-Zohar, Itamar (2000) “The Position of Translated Literature within the Literary Polysystem” in The Translation Studies Reader ed. Lawrence Venuti, New York: Routledge.

On “Translation and the Trials of the Foreign”
Berman sees translation as the “trial of the foreign”(2000:284), which has a dual meaning: 1- from the perspective of the translator and the readers of the target text 2- from the perspective of the source text which begins its adventure of survival in the foreign realm (the target realm). The translator will try to keep the foreignness of the text and the readers will have access to it (1), and the work will have been borne into another language (2). As Berman argues (2000:284) Hölderlin’s version of Sophocles makes the target reader feel the strangeness of the source text; however most translations have a tendency to “attenuate or cancel it” (2000:284). The violence of the work can only be freed (from its original language) by way of “accentuating its strangeness” (2000:285). This is the only way the target text reader will have access to the text.
In translating poetry, Alain seems to share Walter Benjamin’s approach (whether with or without being aware of his remarks): “I have this idea that one can always translate a poet exactly word for word, without adding anything, preserving the very order of the words, until at last you find the meter, even the rhymes...” (Cited by Berman 2000:285). Berman thinks that “thanks to such translation, the language of the original shakes with all its liberated might the translating language” (2000:285). Nevertheless, in this very article, he seems more interested in translation of literary prose than that of poetry. Due to reasons of brevity, poetry translation is more easily compared with the source text and criticized (2000:287). This handicap of novel translation is what Berman wants to remedy with his “analytic of translation” (2000:286). His “negative analytic” sheds light on “ethnocentric”, “annexationalist” and “hypertextual” translations. Berman speaks of deforming forces which do harm to the foreignness of the translated text and adds that every translator, consciously or not, serve these forces (2000:286).
A criticism prose often comes under is its “shapelessness”, which is the totality of languages coexisting in any language (Berman 2000:287). This is the result of the gigantic work the prose writer has to include in her/his work (ibid 2000:287). What makes prose be considered “bad writing” is in fact its richness: its polylingualism (ibid 2000:287). In my opinion, if works of prose, including those which are deemed the annals of world literature are criticized because they are rich, because they bring together different languages and/or vernaculars, then translations thereof are entitled to have the same richness and bring together different languages, as well, and this richness can be maintained with the help of keeping the foreignness of the source text in translation. Berman argues that “all translation is, and must be, the restitution of meaning” (2000:297). The ultimate task of the translator however, is not to neglect the other essence of translating, which is to maintain the trial of the foreign. Berman’s enumeration of tendencies is more than helpful in showing what should not be done so as to carry out that ultimate task.

Reference:
Berman, Antoine (2000) “Translation as the Trials of the Foreign” in The Translation Studies Reader ed. Lawrence Venuti, New York: Routledge.

On "The Task Of The Translator"

Benjamin argues that a translation which is not bad never “undertakes to serve the reader” (2000 :16). He supports this idea with the fact that “the original does not exist for the reader’s sake” (2000:16)”. The moment of creation of a poem similar to those of Baudelaire’s includes the transmission through the poet of ideas and feelings belonging to a superior being, therefore the original is written by the poet-prophet, and it is by no means created for the sake of those who will read it. So as to make a good translation, the fact that the original is not intended for the reader’s sake (and neither should be the translation) is to be taken into consideration by the translator. If a work is decided to be translated, neither this decision nor the translation process should be intended for the reader. Linked to this, is the notion of “translatability”:

“The question of whether a work is translatable has a dual meaning. Either: Will an adequate translator ever be found among the totality of its readers? Or, more pertinently: Does its nature lend itself to translation and, therefore, in view of the significance of the mode, call for it?” (2000:16)

If a work is translatable, which means is worth being translated, its encounter with one of its readers might result in the translation of the same. Even if this encounter, or the result of this encounter is not realized, that does not prove that the work is not translatable (ibid 2000:16). How does one decide, then, if a work is worth being translated or not? The answer might be related to the notion of universal language, or to the fact that the “kinship of languages” is hidden in elements which are language or culture specific (2000:17). “Languages are not strangers to one another, but are, a priori and apart from all historical relationships, interrelated in what they want to express” (ibid 2000:17). Then it can be said that, if a work will serve to show the differences of expression, make its readers aware of the different “modes” of expression and get them to acquaint themselves with the kinship of languages, it should be translated. Benjamin chooses to translate Baudelaire, for he believes he is the one who believes to be responsible to share with German speaking readers what Baudelaire says in French. This way, relating two different languages to one another, those who read his translation will come one step closer to the universal language.

“Wherein resides the relatedness of two languages, apart from historical considerations? Certainly not in the similarity between works of literature or words. Rather, all supra historical kinship of languages rests in the intention underlying each language as a whole- an intention, however, which no single language can attain by itself but which is realized only by the totality of their intentions supplementing each other: pure language” (Benjamin 2000:18)

Even the most similar words in two languages referring to or “intending” the same object, in other words the different signifiers in two languages of what seems to be the same signified, such as Brot and pain, are different from each other, for they are different modes of intention (ibid 2000:18). The act of translating (well) and reading of (good) translations help discover the hidden meaning of individual languages by showing what each of them lacks, and what one of them lacks is found in another language, and this way, one completes the other, until the pure language is realized as a result of all the various modes of intention (ibid 2000:18-19). Then, in light of these, it can be said, as Benjamin does, that what is included in the original work might not be found in its translation, but, I think, the original might lack what is included in the translation, as well, for as Tymoczko argues, there is always “loss and gain” in translation, and as Benjamin says, what one language lacks is present within the barriers of the other. Translation is more than helpful for comparing and contrasting of languages. As Akşit Göktürk says, it is “the language of all languages”.

REFERENCE:
Benjamin, Walter (2000) “The Task of The Translator” in The Translation Studies Reader ed. Lawrence Venuti, New York: Routledge.

RESPONSE TO POST-COLONIAL TRANSLATION: THEORY AND PRACTICE

“Octavio Paz claims that translation is the principal means we have of understanding the world we live in. The world, he says, is presented to us as a growing heap of texts, each slightly different from the one that came before it: translations of translations of translations. Each text is unique, yet at the same time it is the translation of another text. No text can be completely original because language of itself, in its very essence, is already a translation – first from the nonverbal world, and then, because each sign and each phrase is a translation of another sign, another phrase.” (Bassnett and Trivedi 1999: 2-3)

Life is a constant (re)production. Birth can be seen as the beginning of life. What is (re)produced by birth is the baby, the baby takes after her/his parents and grandparents and grandparents and all her/his ancestors to a certain extent. The extent of the resemblance, however, is birth-specific; baby A from parents B and C might have many similarities with them, whereas baby Ç from parents D and F might have less. Nevertheless, however the extent of the similarities might be, the baby is a reproduced form of her/his parents.
As soon as the baby comes into existence, s/he begins to think. And most children make their first translation as of the moment they are borne: their first cry. The cry is in fact the signifier of the pain they are suffering from, as a result of the first meeting of their lungs with oxygen. As they grow up, they make more and more translations, they translate their happiness into laughs and smiles, whereas they translate their pain and suffering into cries and screams. Thanks to these translations, they communicate, and make others know how they are feeling, what they are thinking, and make others know if they need something. In most cases, the mother is the most efficient reader of the simple language the baby translator uses in her/his target language, and she helps her/him learn a more complex language so that in the future s/he can communicate with other people to express her/his needs.
Some mothers and parents make their children learn more than one language at an early age, because they believe, as multilinguals they can become more successful in life. Some parents prefer sending their children to schools where they can learn a second and even a third language. The last two are the cases generally observed in countries where the natural language used in everyday life or the official language is not English, which is the most dominant (even if not the most spoken) language of our time.
“The passion for English knowledge” penetrates almost every part of these countries (cited by Arrojo, 1999:141). People with different social backgrounds can be observed using English words in their sentences, and this might be seen as a result of English’s being “the language of prestige and power” (Prasad 1999: 47). On a chat program over the internet, even a letter of the alphabet of the natural language can be substituted by “w” which is a letter of the English alphabet, for the one who uses “w” instead of “v” in her/his sentence is deemed more “trendy”. S/he signals that s/he belongs to a class which is capable of using (at least some) elements of the language of prestige (Prasad 1999:47). This kind of usage certainly does not stem from a need to ease the language, because, as Dyson argues “a true bilingual would have perfect control over two or more linguistic systems and manage to keep them separate from each other” (cited by Prasad 1999:46). Then it can be seen as another kind of need, which is psychological: the “dominated” people’s desire to turn into the dominant. By way of using the elements of the dominant language, they might be unintentionally attempting to gain the prestige of the people who belong to and/or own the most dominant culture of their time, or they might be unintentionally feeling as if they were one of the people of the “dominant” culture. The dominant culture, then, can argued to be the dominated culture’s “subject presumed to know” (Arrojo 1999: 142, 152). “The person in whom” one presumes “knowledge to exist thereby acquires” one’s “love” (cited by Arrojo, 1999: 143). It can be argued that the child who is subject to “the alluring foreignness of the dominant English” (Arrojo 1999:142) translates his admiration for this language into sentences in her/his mother tongue which include English elements.
On the other hand, from the viewpoint of the “dominant”, the dominated needs to be explored and explained, otherwise it cannot be known and understood: the explanation of the dominated is dependent on the dominant. Commenting on Lispector, Cixous says: “I would never have another seminar if I knew that enough people read Clarice Lispector... So I continue to accompany her with a reading that watches over her” (cited by Arrojo 1999:153). In a sense, what Cixous does not tell about her relationship with Lispector here is the fact that she is Lispector’s “subject presumed to know”, and Lispector can be “read” by “enough people” only if Cixous expresses in her own words what Lispector tells. Lispector is only reachable through Cixous’s translation, which she deems produced as result of “a careful word for word translation strategy...” (Arrojo 1999:148). The powerful one here is not Lispector, but Cixous (ibid 1999:153), and Lispector “has to be ‘saying’ precisely that which Cixous needs and wants to hear” (Arrojo 1999:153).
Every writing including translation is rewriting (Tymoczko 1999:41), and every rewriting tacitly includes information inter alia about the relationship it establishes with its predecessor. A writing which is used as a point of departure in another writing can mean something not at all/slightly/completely different from what is being retold, and the choice is made for a specific purpose. In most cases, asymmetrical relations of power can help determine what the purpose is.
References:
1- Bassnett and Trivedi (1999) “Introduction: of colonies, cannibals and vernaculars” in Post-colonial translation: theory & practice, ed. Susan Bassnett and Harish Trivedi, Routledge.
2- G. J. V Prasad (1999) “Writing translation: the strange case of the Indian English novel” in Post-colonial translation: theory & practice, ed. Susan Bassnett and Harish Trivedi, Routledge.
3- Rosemary Arrojo (1999) “Interpretation as possesive love: Helene Cixous, Clarice Lispector and the ambivalence of fidelity” in Post-colonial translation: theory & practice, ed. Susan Bassnett and Harish Trivedi, Routledge.
4- Maria Tymoczko (1999) “The Metonymics of Translation” in Translation in a Post-colonial Context, St. Jerome.

ON “TRANSLATION AS EMPIRE” IN TRANSLATION AND EMPIRE

As Robinson (1997:48-49) points out, Herodotus (c.484-430/20 B.C.) deals with the issue of translation in the second book of his Histories, written in the mid-fifth century B.C. Robinson’s emphasis on translation in the intercultural communication between the Egyptians and the Ionians and Carians is striking:

Herodotus tells the story of the Egyptian king Psammetichus, one of the twelve kings who had made a mutual non-aggression pact: when he accidentally fulfilled an oracle saying that whoever drank from his helmet would become sole monarch of Egypt, the other eleven stripped him of his powers and banished him to the marsh country. Burning with resentment, he plotted revenge but could not act until a company of sea-raiders from Ionia (Heredotus’ country) and Caria were forced by bad weather to land on the Egyptian coast. Psammetichus made friends with the raiders, using their help to defeat and depose the eleven kings. Thus far the story is a fairly familiar one from the annals of empire: the banished king finds foreign allies and returns to overthrow his enemies at home. Because the foreign allies must somehow be rewarded, and the reward must be in proportion to the king’s regained throne, the result is the salutary breakdown of isolationist boundaries and the establishment of intercultural communication that leads to translation.(ibid 1997:49)

This is one of the first intercultural communications in written history, which leads to translation. Psammetichus granted land to his allies in return for their military help, and in addition to that, he sent Egyptian boys with them back home; they were assigned with the task of learning the language of the Ioanians and Carians: Greek. In those times, Greece can said to have been “quite primitive” (ibid 1997:49), and these boys, who would become the first Egyptian interpreters were the first to affect Greek culture.
This is an example from ancient times, which shows that a culture affects another culture through language, and when this kind of communication takes place, the significance of translators and interpreters can never be underestimated. This can also be seen as an example showing the power of translation. Psammetichus might have been grateful to his allies, but was that the only reason why he sent Egyptian boys to be put at their service? He had already given them land. Given the facts that he was a king, thus a man of politics, and that he had managed to regain his throne after having convinced the Ionians and Carians to help him, it can be argued that putting these boys at their service was a clever move to learn more about them, which would lead to taking advantage of their presence, in other words, one of the first examples of the desire to colonize in history (Robinson 1997:49).

Robinson argues that Horace and Cicero have usually been interpreted out of context (ibid 1997:50); however, what they had not said have usually been seen as what they had said. In order to understand what they really meant, without doubt the era they lived in has to be taken into consideration:

Throughout the history of translation theory, especially but not exclusively in Europe, later thinkers would quote Cicero and Horace out of context in order to consolidate what was gradually becoming dominant – indeed ultimately the only acceptable – approach to translation: translating the meaning of whole sentences, not of individual words. The Ciceronian and Horatian catchphrases, “I did not hold it necessary to render word for word, but I preserved the general style and force of the language” (Cicero) and “nor trouble to render word for word with the faithfulness of a translator” (Horace), are quoted or alluded to in virtually every treatise or passing remark on translation in Europe until our own day – and almost invariably in a context alien to the thrust of Cicero’s and Horace’s own arguments. (ibid 1997:50-51)

What they advised was not to translate word-for-word; nevertheless, many have tended to come to the conclusion that this meant just the opposite; “to translate sense-for-sense”, a term coined by Jerome, who lived more than 300 years after Horace and Cicero. To make things clear what we need is “a larger context of Horace’s remarks”(Robinson 1997:50):

It is a hard task to treat what is common in a way of your own; and you are doing more rightly in breaking the tale of Troy into acts than in giving the world a new story of your own telling. You may acquire private rights in common ground, provided you will neither linger in the one hackneyed and easy round; nor trouble to render word for word with the faithfulness of a translator. [...] (cited by Robinson 1997:51)

Here, two questions are important: who the addressees of Horace’s text are, and what he is really focused on. Horace is addressing story tellers - not translators - who tell mythological stories of the old times. “In this context Horace is specifically warning writers not to stick too closely to the original” (Robinson 1997:51). Although Horace’s addressees are not translators, he is talking about something which a translator would be interested in: two different cultures. Greek and Roman cultures are what he refers to as “common” and “own” respectively. “He is calling upon Roman writers not only to establish their originality vis-a-vis the original text but to appropriate Greek culture for imperial Rome”(ibid 1997:51). What they are called upon to do is reproduce Greek stories through replacing Roman elements with those which are Greek. In order to become the new super power in cultural terms as well as in military terms, Romans strive for taking advantage of the cultural elements of the previous super power. As Robinson puts it, “What was once Greek and ‘common’ will now become Roman and ‘private’ – the private property of a Roman writer who is thus no longer indebted to the perceived superiority of Greece” (ibid 1997:51). In other words, as a result of the “Roman Appropriation”, the Greek would be alienated from the stories their own culture had once produced. According to Copeland, the Roman respect for Greek culture was nothing but a result of “the desire to displace that culture, and eliminate its hegemonic hold, through contestation and hence difference” (cited by Robinson 1997:52).

Horace and Cicero were the first writers in the “postcolonial project” of appropriating “Greek culture, literature, philosophy, law”, but this “Ciceronian/Horatian tradition” was followed by many others such as Pliny the Younger, Quantilian and Aulus Gellius. Nevertheless, Quantilian and writers who lived centuries after him such as Augustine and Jerome were focused on something else: “The importance of appropriating (or colonizing) Greece for Latin culture remained, and in fact was expanded in the Christian Middle Ages to a concern with appropriating ‘pagan’ Greece and Rome for the ecclesiastical Latin culture of the medieval church” (Robinson 1997:53). This would be possible through injecting Christian elements into a non-Christian text as if it were written by a Christian writer. Any work by any writer regardless of the time he lived in (in Christian or non-Christian times) would be “appropriate” to this end. Works of Ovid, Plato, Virgil or Homer could be turned into works of Christian writers (ibid 1997:53). As Robinson has stated, “a good example of this concern with the medieval Christian reader’s doctrinal needs, rather than with the author’s intention or source text meaning its historical context, is the fourteenth century French work Ovid Moralisé [...]”(ibid 1997:53). From an objective point of view, to moralize Ovid means to turn Ovid into a writer who is a devoted protector of the ecclesiastical church, to moralize Ovid means to take advantage of Ovid in order to justify the moral values of Rome and Christianity. How Jerome describes this process of translation is worth attention:

“Time would run out if I were to mention all those who have translated according to this principle. Here it is sufficient to notice Hilary the Confessor as an example of the rest. When he turned some homilies on Job and several Psalms from Greek into Latin, he did not bind himself to the drowsiness of literal translation, or allow himself to be chained to the literalism of an inadequate culture, but, like some conqueror, he marched the original text, a captive, into his native language.” (cited by Robinson 1997:55)


In his letter to Pammachius, due to the fact that talking about all religious people who are immensed in their studies of appropriating Greek culture would cause “time to run out”, Jerome just gives the example of a priest (a confessor, to be exact) who, just like the others, is against word-for-word translation from Greek into Latin. Jerome finds the other culture inadequate, and they just use what they deem necessary from that inadequate culture. Translating in order to captivate the other culture is the skopos of all Roman religious men in those times, and Jerome’s way of describing this process enables us to see how translation can be used in order to captivate the other, and how the translator was considered a soldier to march and gain victory over the other culture.

REFERENCE: Douglas Robinson, Translation and Empire, St. Jerome Publishing, Manchester 1997.