On Friday, December 5th Haaretz (and possibly other papers) carried a 7x5 inch ad by Shalem Press, inviting the public to an event celebrating the launching of the first ever full Hebrew translation of Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan. The ad contained the names of several VIPs and luminaries, and of course all relevant details of time and place. What it did not contain was the name of the translator.
Perplexed, I re-read the ad carefully. No, I had not overlooked it. The name of eminent translator Aharon Amir was glaringly missing.
In righteous indignation, and seeing myself as defending the honor of all mistreated translators, I wrote an email to Shalem Press, a division of Shalem Center, pointing out the omission.
I left the research, or at least basic Googling, to later. Which was when I found out that Aharon Amir (who died February 2008) passed away before completing the translation. Or at least, that was what one website said. Other websites make it sound as if Amir had translated the whole thing (from English,) whereas the editor, Menachem Lorberbaum, edited while comparing with the Latin version, and added a preface, notes and a glossary. Surely that was not the reason for omitting Amir's name?...
A letter (i.e. email) of reply arrived a few days later. Naomi Arbel, on behalf of the publishing house, thanked me for calling the omission to her attention. Said it was an oversight that occurred since there was no picture of the book jacket in the ad. (Strange excuse.) She continued to say that Shalem Press are always "very attentive" about having the translator's name on book jackets and in publicity material, and will continue to do so in the future.
Though the excuse sounded lame, I know that mistakes happen, and was pleased that the error would be fixed. Imagine my disappointment when this Friday, December 11, the exact same ad appeared again. No correction.
Now, I know it's a nuisance and probably costly to re-do the ad and insert another line. Though it could be done fairly easily, there is definitely enough space in the ad to make room for another short line of text. But no one bothered. Or maybe they tried and the paper said Sorry, too late. I don't know. It just seems so unfair. Such an important, huge, and probably difficult, book. Amir must have put so much work into it. See Shlomo Avineri's review, published in Haaretz, in Hebrew.
Maariv also published a review of the book, by one Mati Shmuelof who totally ignored the translator. No mention of his name or anything. If it weren't for a short comment at the very end mentioning the notes and Hebrew/English glossary, one could be led to think that he'd read the book in English or Latin. (Fat chance.)
Aharon Amir's list of translating credits is dazzling; surely he doesn't need me to defend his interests, his name? But that's not the point.
How many of you have read, or will ever read, this tome, unless you have to, as part of your studies? That, too, is totally beside the point.
The point is, that credit should be given to the translator. Period.
Would you translate this bank's slogan for free?
Once again, an Israeli bank demonstrates that it is unwilling to pay a dime to have its advertising – in this case its slogan – translated professionally.
One of my fave agencies called me and asked me to translate an ad for Bank Leumi, slated to be published in the J. Post. This type of job is always a rush job.
I said yes, because I happened to be in-between two other things and could afford to take time out for a 150-word ad.
However, I noticed that the ad ended with a slogan. I told the girl at the agency that I'd translate the ad, but not the slogan. Perhaps the big bank has already had its slogan translated into English (and Russian, and perhaps other languages), in which case it would be silly to re-invent the wheel. On the other hand, if inventing the wheel is called for, it costs money. I am a professional translator and copywriter, I don't create English versions of Hebrew slogans for free. That is, not anymore I don't.
The girl said other translators do it… why, only the other day someone translated a Bezeq ad for them, slogan and all, and didn't make a fuss about it…
I said, well I don't. On principle.
The client (the J. Post? Bank Leumi? Both?) said, that's the way we always do it.
I said, fine, but I don't. On principle.
I sent off the translated ad, minus slogan, to the agency, and apologized for causing them this headache. They now have to find some sucker who will, at a moment's notice, translate the slogan for peanuts. It might turn out good. It might turn out awful. Neither the Post nor Leumi seem to care.
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To be fair, I must admit that in the past, in similar situations, I used to translate the slogan, with or without complaining about it being unfair. Why? Because I could. I suppose it was vanity: it was a challenge, and I got a kick out of being able to quickly think up good copy, natural-sounding English versions of Hebrew slogans. But slowly the realization dawned on me that I was giving away my talent for free. And to whom? Not to some poor, deserving non-profit association, but to the richest business corporations in the country. If I'm so talented, and save everyone involved lots of time and bother by coming up with a solution so fast, I should be paid more, not less, wouldn't you think?
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Obviously, I am not the only one approached by the agencies, and I am not the only one who can do a good job. I think we translators and copywriters should show some solidarity. I think we should all stand up to the big corporations and refuse to work for them for nothing, or next-to-nothing. C'mon guys, show some backbone!
One of my fave agencies called me and asked me to translate an ad for Bank Leumi, slated to be published in the J. Post. This type of job is always a rush job.
I said yes, because I happened to be in-between two other things and could afford to take time out for a 150-word ad.
However, I noticed that the ad ended with a slogan. I told the girl at the agency that I'd translate the ad, but not the slogan. Perhaps the big bank has already had its slogan translated into English (and Russian, and perhaps other languages), in which case it would be silly to re-invent the wheel. On the other hand, if inventing the wheel is called for, it costs money. I am a professional translator and copywriter, I don't create English versions of Hebrew slogans for free. That is, not anymore I don't.
The girl said other translators do it… why, only the other day someone translated a Bezeq ad for them, slogan and all, and didn't make a fuss about it…
I said, well I don't. On principle.
The client (the J. Post? Bank Leumi? Both?) said, that's the way we always do it.
I said, fine, but I don't. On principle.
I sent off the translated ad, minus slogan, to the agency, and apologized for causing them this headache. They now have to find some sucker who will, at a moment's notice, translate the slogan for peanuts. It might turn out good. It might turn out awful. Neither the Post nor Leumi seem to care.
----------
To be fair, I must admit that in the past, in similar situations, I used to translate the slogan, with or without complaining about it being unfair. Why? Because I could. I suppose it was vanity: it was a challenge, and I got a kick out of being able to quickly think up good copy, natural-sounding English versions of Hebrew slogans. But slowly the realization dawned on me that I was giving away my talent for free. And to whom? Not to some poor, deserving non-profit association, but to the richest business corporations in the country. If I'm so talented, and save everyone involved lots of time and bother by coming up with a solution so fast, I should be paid more, not less, wouldn't you think?
------------
Obviously, I am not the only one approached by the agencies, and I am not the only one who can do a good job. I think we translators and copywriters should show some solidarity. I think we should all stand up to the big corporations and refuse to work for them for nothing, or next-to-nothing. C'mon guys, show some backbone!
In by Nina Rimon Davis
Would you let this bank manage your relationships?
Once again, an Israeli bank demonstrates that it's not a good idea to scrimp and save when having its huge expensive ads translated from Hebrew to English.
Today's (December 6th, 2009) J. Post carries, on page 5, a huge, yellow ad for Bank Hapoalim, covering nearly the entire page. You can see a snippet of it on the bank's Hebrew website. See it? Green grass, yellow sky, and a text about solar energy and loans for solar systems.
Great idea.
Forget the trivial fact that the English slogan uses superfluous capital letters:
Let the Sun Work for You. Forget other inaccuracies. I can live with those.
But then, after you've presumably been persuaded that this is a good reason to apply for credit or take out a loan, you read the following:
For further information, call your relationship managers, branches, or dial *whatever.
Relationship managers?
I couldn't figure out what they meant. Maybe this is a new term for "private banker", I mused, and clicked on the link provided.
The Hebrew page with the additional information said nothing about relationship managers; it says
לפרטים נוספים יש לפנות לסניפים, למרכזי עסקים או למוקד הייעודי בטלפון כך-וכך
i.e., for further details contact the branches, the business centers or the call center.
So I proceeded to the bank's unimpressive English language site, where the mystery was solved. The hapless translator must have gone to that page, where he/she came upon the following:
"Through our Customer Relationship Managers, our private banking clients benefit from yadda yadda yadda"
I'm quite sure the translator copied the phrase verbatim. Someone must have goofed at the proofreading stage, if there was one, which I doubt.
Once again, I wonder: why would an institution like a bank invest big shekels in an ad, only to make a fool of itself in the English version thereof?
Today's (December 6th, 2009) J. Post carries, on page 5, a huge, yellow ad for Bank Hapoalim, covering nearly the entire page. You can see a snippet of it on the bank's Hebrew website. See it? Green grass, yellow sky, and a text about solar energy and loans for solar systems.
Great idea.
Forget the trivial fact that the English slogan uses superfluous capital letters:
Let the Sun Work for You. Forget other inaccuracies. I can live with those.
But then, after you've presumably been persuaded that this is a good reason to apply for credit or take out a loan, you read the following:
For further information, call your relationship managers, branches, or dial *whatever.
Relationship managers?
I couldn't figure out what they meant. Maybe this is a new term for "private banker", I mused, and clicked on the link provided.
The Hebrew page with the additional information said nothing about relationship managers; it says
לפרטים נוספים יש לפנות לסניפים, למרכזי עסקים או למוקד הייעודי בטלפון כך-וכך
i.e., for further details contact the branches, the business centers or the call center.
So I proceeded to the bank's unimpressive English language site, where the mystery was solved. The hapless translator must have gone to that page, where he/she came upon the following:
"Through our Customer Relationship Managers, our private banking clients benefit from yadda yadda yadda"
I'm quite sure the translator copied the phrase verbatim. Someone must have goofed at the proofreading stage, if there was one, which I doubt.
Once again, I wonder: why would an institution like a bank invest big shekels in an ad, only to make a fool of itself in the English version thereof?
In by Nina Rimon Davis
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