Get ready for the next step in banning books against common sense.
The next book that will have to be banned is the dictionary — for it contains all the words and meanings for which books are banned.
Words were given to us to communicate with each other, to share ideas, and enlighten the mind. Anything can be used for good or evil.
We must choose good or evil.
Hopefully our educators will learn to distinguish literature according to its theme. Hopefully our children will be presented with literature that will inspire their imaginations, encourage them to dream dreams, and give them hope for the future.
Childhood is such a brief yet important time. There will always be some who want to spread the evil things of life. We must all do our best to impart wisdom to our children so they can learn to discern what’s true and good.
Get ready for the next step in banning books against common sense.
The next book that will have to be banned is the dictionary — for it contains all the words and meanings for which books are banned.
Words were given to us to communicate with each other, to share ideas, and enlighten the mind. Anything can be used for good or evil.
We must choose good or evil.
Hopefully our educators will learn to distinguish literature according to its theme. Hopefully our children will be presented with literature that will inspire their imaginations, encourage them to dream dreams, and give them hope for the future.
Childhood is such a brief yet important time. There will always be some who want to spread the evil things of life. We must all do our best to impart wisdom to our children so they can learn to discern what’s true and good.
Since independence in 1980, Zimbabwe has in some ways become like Animal Farm. Like the pigs in the classic 1945 novel by English writer George Orwell, the country’s post-liberation leaders have hijacked a revolution that was once rooted in righteous outrage. In Zimbabwe, the revolution was against colonialism and its practices of extraction and exploitation.
The lead characters in Animal Farm have the propensity for evil and the greed for power found in despots throughout history, including former Zimbabwe president Robert Mugabe. Zimbabwe’s leaders have also acted for personal gain. They remain in power with no accountability to the suffering of the people they claim to represent.
Animal Farm’s relevance is echoed in celebrated young Zimbabwean author NoViolet Bulawayo’s recent novel Glory. Her satirical take on Zimbabwe’s 2017 coup and the fall of Mugabe is also narrated through animals. And visual artist Admire Kamudzengerere founded Animal Farm Artist Residency in Chitungwiza as a space for creative experimentation.
It’s within this context that a group of Zimbabwean writers, led by novelist and lawyer Petina Gappah and poet Tinashe Muchuri, have translated Animal Farm into Shona, the country’s most widely spoken language. A dozen writers contributed to the translation of Chimurenga Chemhuka (Animal Revolution) over five years.
It’s clear to me, as a scholar of Zimbabwean literature, that too few great books are available in the country’s indigenous languages. This matters particularly because there are few bookshops and libraries where young people can access good writing. But Zimbabwe’s writers are taking matters into their own hands.
The translation project
Translating Animal Farm into Shona makes perfect sense. Historically, Shona novelists have used animal imagery to conjure up worlds of tradition and custom, and also to examine human foibles. Great Shona writers – such as Solomon Mutswairo, Patrick Chakaipa and more recently Ignatius Mabasa – have written books that use allegory to respond to a range of crises in Zimbabwe. (Allegory is a literary device that uses hidden meaning to speak to political situations – such as using pigs instead of people in Animal Farm.)
Gappah kickstarted the translation project in a private post on Facebook in 2015:
A group of friends and I thought it would be fun to bring the novel to new readers in all the languages spoken in Zimbabwe. This is important to us because Zimbabwe has been isolated so much in recent years, and translation is one way to bring other cultures and peoples closer to your own.
Eight years later, Chimurenga Chemhuka has come to life. It’s a big achievement, considering that publishing has not been performing well in a dire Zimbabwean economy. Gappah and her friends have ambitions to translate and publish Animal Farm in all indigenous languages taught in Zimbabwe’s schools.
Chimurenga Chemhuka
Though Chimurenga Chemhuka is mainly in standard Shona, its characters speak a medley of different Shona dialects – such as chiKaranga, chiZezuru, chiManyika – plus a smattering of contemporary slang. It’s a prismatic translation in one text. As leading UK translation theorist Matthew Reynolds explains:
To translate is to remake, not only in a new language with its different nuances and ways of putting words together, but in a new culture where readers are likely to be attracted by different themes.
The use of dialects activates the book in a comical way that also leaves it open to different interpretations and connections. For example, Zimbabwe’s president Emmerson Mnangagwa, who does not have the same rhetorical gifts as his predecessor, has always tried to distinguish himself with his use of chiKaranga, a dominant dialect of Shona. He adopts a popular wailing Pentecostal style that rises and falls, raising laughter and dust among the rented crowds who attend his rallies.
The title, Chimurenga Chemhuka, is poignant and a direct reference to Zimbabwe’s liberation war. Chemhuka (animal) Chimurenga (revolution) is not a literal translation of Animal Farm, but here the writers take liberties to connect the book to the country’s larger struggles for independence, commonly known as Chimurenga.
Why this matters
This translation project is a significant event in Shona literature.
It’s done by an eclectic group of writers who are passionate about language and literature. They use Orwell’s book and its satiric commentary as a way to creatively express themselves collectively. If this was a choir, the choristers Gappah and Muchuri do a good job of leading a harmonious ensemble.
Read more: NoViolet Bulawayo’s new novel is an instant Zimbabwean classic
This is also the first of a series of Shona translations from House of Books, a new publishing house in Zimbabwe. The book is being promoted via social media platforms, where it is generating conversation about the need for more Zimbabwean translations of classic literature.
Translation was a major activity in Zimbabwe in the 1980s. It was a way for the newly emergent nation to reintegrate into the pan-African intellectual circuit. As Zimbabwe again reels from political and economic oppression, the translation of Animal Farm reveals to the country that what it’s going through is not new. It has happened before, and it will happen again.
Oxford University Press has announced a large-scale study that will culminate in the Oxford Dictionary of African American English, the brainchild of historian Henry Louis Gates that will focus on the contributions that African Americans have made to the English language.
The dictionary will be released in 2025 and is expected to include about 1,000 words.
“The editing of the Oxford Dictionary of African American English will realize a dream I’ve nurtured since I first studied the pages of Samuel Johnson’s ‘Dictionary of the English Language,’” Gates said in a press release. “Every speaker of American English borrows heavily from words invented by African Americans, whether they know it or not.”
Evidence for every entry, according to Gates, will be gathered from diverse sources like novels, academic research papers, newspapers and magazines, song lyrics, recipes and social media. Researchers have encouraged the public to make entry suggestions.
Oxford University Press last month announced they have completed the first 100 word entries and released 10 of them.
The 10 words include:
cakewalk (n.): 1. A contest in which Black people would perform a stylized walk in pairs, typically judged by a plantation owner. The winner would receive some type of cake. 2. Something that is considered easily done, as in, This job is a cakewalk.
old school (adj.): Characteristic of early hip-hop or rap music that emerged in New York City between the late 1970s to the mid 1980s, which often includes the use of couplets, funk and disco samples, and playful lyrics. Also used to describe the music and artists of that style and time period. (Variant form: old skool.)
Jiya Pinder, the creator and curator of We The Diaspora, looks at historical photos.
Courtesy Tina Pinder
How Black archives are highlighting overlooked parts of history and culture
pat (verb): 1. transitive. To tap (the foot) in rhythm with music, sometimes as an indication of participation in religious worship. 2. intransitive. Usually of a person’s foot: to tap in rhythm with music, sometimes to demonstrate participation in religious worship.
Some linguists and lexicographers agree that African American language and culture deserves its own dictionary. Tracey Weldon, a sociolinguist currently working at the education executive search firm Greenwood Asher & Associates and one of dictionary’s executive editors, illustrated the project’s importance.
“The African American speech community has contributed so much to American English, but so much of it has been invisible to the public at large,” Weldon said. “This is an opportunity to just acknowledge those contributions and educate the public about the various types of words, the breadth of the vocabulary and some information about its history.”
Weldon pointed out words that are used in everyday language. Words such as “yam,” “okra,” “shout- out,” “lit” and “woke” all began in the African American community and became part of the American lexicon.
“We are hoping this will be fairly comprehensive, extensive broad and going beyond just sort of the slang term that people typically think of when they think about African American English, and just show the full breadth of the vocabulary,” Weldon said.
The choice of words will vary from the middle ages to the plantation era, but the dictionary will also include popular words from current social media platforms such as Black Twitter.
“We are looking for variety and breadth, so not everything will necessarily make its way to the first publication. But we want to hear from the public, so the final version is a representation of a community’s perception,” Weldon said.
Double-longlisted for the 2022 International Booker Prize – and then shortlisted for Bora Chung’s Cursed Bunny – Anton Hur is perhaps one of the most recognised faces among international translators today. Born in Stockholm, Sweden, and raised in British Hong Kong, Ethiopia, Thailand, and Korea, Hur has created a body of translations from Korean to English that enables English-language readers to access the vast and fascinating variety of literatures that South Korea has to offer.
Hur has translated several female and queer writers from South Korea, and has been a vocal advocate for fair treatment of writers, translators, and publishing industry workers. A passionate and informed translator, a star in his own right, Hur spoke to Scroll about his translation choices, mentoring new translators, the role of boy band BTS in making Korean literature popular, and more. Excerpts from the conversation:
I read about your fascinating translation method on your blog. Since most of my questions were answered in it, I would still like to ask, how did you begin to translate? I was a kid and I would interpret for my mother. Eventually, I began doing it for money in high school and college and I just never stopped. This is a very typical path for many translators.
A translator can also be a curator. For instance, someone like me who knows nothing about Korean literature would be eager to read a new author if the front cover had your name as the translator. Do you consider yourself a curator for the English-language audience or do you take on a book simply because you like it and without burdening yourself with what the larger implications might be? Both things. I agree a translator can be a curator. The spate of science fiction novels translated from Korean that came out in the past couple of years – I’m Waiting for You, Tower, To the Warm Horizon, Cursed Bunny, Walking Practice – were made possible by a group of translators who actively and deliberately sought out edgy Korean SF to translate. I was also keen on translating queer Korean literature, hence Love in the Big City. But a lot of the time, I just like a book. Indeterminate Inflorescence is a great example, it’s the kind of book no one knew how to categorise and it was unthinkable anyone would translate it into English or any other language, but I really wanted people around the world to read it because it’s such a treasure.
If someone were to go through your list of published translations, they’d find a few names that make multiple appearances – Kyung-Sook Shin, Baek Sehee (sequel forthcoming in 2024), and Bora Chung. What makes you return to the works of these authors? It’s not dissimilar to certain actors appearing in the works of certain directors time and again. The match between a translator and a writer is alchemical, it’s like casting a movie or being in a marriage. The partnership has to somehow go beyond being a sum of its parts. With a writer like Bora Chung especially, I’ve invested so much of myself into bringing her name up from untranslated to Booker-shortlisted that any other translator taking her away from me would be considered really bad manners on the part of that translator. Translators are asked to sacrifice so much, we can’t keep doing all of that work if your author isn’t interested in working with you in the long term, although I understand if an author wants to move on.
It is also heartening to see how you have actively translated women and queer Korean authors. Is this a conscious choice? Absolutely. It’s very rare that I find a cis-het male writer that I like. I do translate them, but even as a young reader, I’ve always preferred the work of women authors. With queer authors, it’s happened a couple of times where I would take on their work and learn later on that they’re queer. So I seem to naturally gravitate towards their work. I enjoy destroying the patriarchy. We all have to do our part.
To add to this question, (if I am not wrong) Ocean Vuong’s Night Sky with Exit Wounds, thus far, is your only translation into Korean from English. Can you tell me what made you translate this book into your mother tongue? Well, it’s Ocean Vuong. You don’t say no to Ocean Vuong! I also really like this Korean publisher, they’re the most prestigious publisher of poetry in our country, and I wanted to work with them. I also wanted to translate a book into Korean because it’s a different vibe, but the opportunity never really presented itself because I was so busy with my other translation work. But I plan on continuing to be a bidirectional translator. I’m already a bilingual author, as I’ve signed contracts to write books in both Korean and English. No one told me I couldn’t do it, so I just went ahead and did it.
Literary fiction, science fiction, speculative fiction, memoirs, poetry…you have done it all. Do you have a soft spot for any specific genre? And which one of these do you find most challenging to translate? I don’t really believe in genres, I mean, they’re cute marketing terms and handy for readers to find what they want to read, but from a translator’s point of view, the only thing I care about is that they’re well-written. Most readers I know read in multiple genres, so there’s no reason translators and writers shouldn’t work in multiple genres either. If I had to pick a genre I have a particular affection for, I would say speculative and science fiction. But I also have great respect for romance, memoirs, self-help, and nonfiction. And love poetry. My master’s degree is in Victorian poetry. I just really love books.
You are the only translator who was double-longlisted for the International Booker Prize. Other than that, you have multiple grants and awards to your name. It would not be an exaggeration to say that you are one of the most recognised translators in the world today. Despite the achievements, you have spoken up about how contract conditions continue to be unfair to you and translators in general. What do you think the reason for this apathy might be? Both Frank Wynne and Sophie Hughes were double-longlisted for the International Booker before I was, but yes, there have only been three such cases in history so far. I’ve only won two awards, and one of them was for fourth place. So I’ve actually not won a lot of awards. I feel like I’m so visible because I do a lot of social media and microblogging and interact with readers a lot, more than my achievements per se.
Contract conditions remain bad for translators because they remain bad for people in publishing across the board. Writers have it bad, young people in publishing have it bad, and the HarperCollins union went on strike – thank god they won. Capitalism is why pay in publishing remains stagnant despite huge profits. I don’t really have a special answer for this, my answer is the same as everyone else’s.
You have taught translation and you have been a part of translation awards juries too. What is the future of translation like? What excites you most about the new crop of translators? There is some truly exciting work coming from young translators all over the world, and so many names to watch out for. Soje, Lisa Hofmann-Kuroda, Jack Hargreaves, Robin Munby, Reuben Woolley, my mentees Clare Richards, Shanna Tan, and Gene Png – they are the lifeblood of our profession and I hope they all come out with their incredible and wonderful books soon that will make people forget about us oldies.
When I was a judge for the National Translation Award for Prose in 2021, I was also astonished by the incredible literature coming out of South Asia, so much so I said yes to judging the Armory Square Prize this year not so much for the experience of judging but for industrial espionage purposes; I just wanted to get a preview of what everyone in those languages was working on.
Every translator has a translation rule or mantra that they live by. What is yours? And have you ever deviated from it? I’m sure I have one, I just can’t quite put my finger on what it might be. I guess mine is “Return to the source”? I think I can safely say I’m one of the most conservative translators working in my language combination because I really hate leaving things out or putting new things in. Which is often a silly attitude to have, because sometimes you have to do those things for the sake of the translation, but for me, the fun of translation is to figure out a way to express something that seems inexpressible in the target language. Whenever I am stuck with something or I see something in the translation that’s a mess, I always return to the source to figure out a new way to do it. The answer is always there, in the source.
Korean movies have always been popular but the K-pop boom has made Korean culture a thing of desire. Every big city in India not just has K-drama and K-pop fan groups but cafes, bakeries, and restaurants serving Korean cuisine are mushrooming by the dozens. Language schools now teach Korean alongside French, German, Spanish, and Mandarin. There is clearly a great interest in Korea’s cultural offerings. Would you say this is a great time to be a translator of the Korean language? And does it sometimes get a little overwhelming? With extremely few exceptions, there is very little audience spillover from K-pop and K-drama into Korean literature. Just because someone likes a BLACKPINK song, it doesn’t make them want to pick up Hwang Sok-yong. That doesn’t happen for Korean K-pop listeners, so I don’t see why that would happen for non-Koreans. I recently had a “Korea blogger” try to interview me without ever having read any of my books. We’re just “content” for this crowd. My audience is not, and never has been, that audience. The only reliable ally for Korean literature in K-culture is BTS, specifically RM, who loves reading. The BTS fandom, called ARMY, has long been supportive of Korean literature in translation. They are almost the only exception to the rule.
Let’s imagine that Anton Hur has been asked to create a Translator’s Paradise. What are the top three things you will have in such a space? A room of one’s own, steady income, and an agent to take care of rights haggling, pitching, and other problem-solving that has nothing to do with the actual act of translation.