Efi Koromila

Hello, Mrs. Koromila. First of all, we’d like to thank you for being here, and agreeing to this interview. We’re delighted.

It’s my pleasure, thank you.

Let’s start with the first question that we’ve been asking all these years. How did literary translation come into your life?

Yeah, how it happened. It happened by chance, I’d say. When I returned from France… My studies were in Law. I graduated Law School, applied and got my license to practice, and then went to France for my ΜΑ studies. When I returned I was all grown up and had to do something to make a living. My parents had supported me enough. In France I’d read a book I really liked, its French title was La Sultane, by Catherine Clément. I had a friend who worked at Nefeli publishing house, and I asked her if I could attempt to translate it, to make some cash. That’s how it started. The book was very successful in Greece, published under the title Hürrem. Bit by bit I got a taste for it, though I continued to do other things for many years. That’s how the story unfolded and I’ve been translating for over 30 years. I consider myself very fortunate to have managed to make a profession out of something I really love. Not many people have the benefit of a job that gives this much satisfaction. That’s about it.

On that note, we’d like to ask, in your experience, what does “to translate” mean to you, and what do you get out of it? Besides it being enjoyable.

It’s a pleasure, and it’s also a journey. Literary translation is a journey. It’s a journey, because if you’re not doing it under huge pressure, if you’re able and fortunate enough to pick the books you translate – and, for many years and still to this day I’ve been able to suggest books that were accepted – translation offers a great wealth on every level. Each book takes you to another world. It’s different. It might outwardly seem repetitive and solitary, sitting at a desk, at first with my notebook, then with my typewriter and now with my computer, though it seems that’s all it is, it really isn’t. Every book is another world. Translation personally gives me the opportunity to enrich my world, not just linguistically, but mentally, cognitively, and psychologically. It’s a multifaceted job.

Regarding translation as a process, what kind of problems do you usually face and how do you solve them? If you can give us a specific example…

I don’t know about a specific example because I was unprepared. The main problem in my view – since I’ve translated a lot of 19th century literature – the main problem is how to give present-day readers the spirit of an era that’s long gone. That’s one issue, so, by extension, the style of an author back then. How to not make it antiquated and unreadable without losing the individuality of the author, their style, and the era. Other than that, in every book there are specific translating problems. Because every book is a carrier of culture, isn’t it? What’s an author expressing? Their era, the place and time in which they’re living, that can be completely different than our own, different than both the translator’s and the Greek reader’s. That creates a lot of translation problems. They’re never the same, but unique each time besides the typical ones, like how much the infinitive is used in French, while we don’t, how the passive voice is widely used, but not in Greek… Those are commonplace. My last book translation was about Algeria, and it took me to a different world. Algeria during colonial times, then the war for independence, what that meant for Algerians who left to go to France. And how do you convey all that? There are words that signify situations that have no equivalent in Greek reality, and that needs careful consideration. Sometimes I have to go a little overboard with a lot of footnotes, in my effort to facilitate the Greek reader. It’s all about tuning in to the author and letting their own style take you where they want to go, not… And if you’ll allow me to comment on that, it’s a problem with authors who translate, good authors, who, understandably, tend to speak their own language, not that of the author. When we’re reading Dostoevsky in Greek, we don’t know if we’re reading Dostoevsky, or Aris Alexandrou. His work is excellent, that goes without saying. That kind of thing. A professional translator who isn’t a writer has to be more obedient to their author.

Out of everything you’ve translated, is there a specific one you found especially hard?

There is one…

You mentioned the 19th century, that’s considered classic literature.

There’s one that’s yet to be published, I hope it finally will be in 2019. It’s La Sorcière: The Witch of the Middle Ages, by the historian Jules Michelet, that’ll be published by MIET. It’s a book that gave me a really hard time. Now we’re at the editing stage in talks with the editor. I translated the book about five years ago and it’s just now coming up for publication. I look back on it and wonder how I did it, how I dared. I’m baffled. It’s an extremely important book and one that I found very challenging. I hope the end result is good, at least.

Talking about editors we’d like to ask, do you think editing is necessary and do you work with an editor?

I always do, and I strive to work with editors, because they’re essential. I disagree with the notion that a good translator doesn’t need an editor. I disagree. I’ve been translating for 30 years and I’ve got a lot of experience. There’s always a mistake somewhere, lying in wait. I mean, it’s lurking. It’s human nature to make mistakes, for one, but also, even if you don’t make mistakes, a second, more distanced look is always necessary. Especially if you don’t have the time – which I used to have, but not anymore since deadlines are very tight nowadays. It’s true about our lives and everything, the pace is hectic. If you’re not able to put a translation aside for 6 months or so, and pick it up again, then an editor becomes all the more necessary. I’m always willing to take editors’ directives, just as I’m always willing to say, “No, sorry, I think not”. It’s this relationship. The translator is way more immersed in the book they’ve done. The editor is more distanced, and it takes more than one reading to get some things that might seem awkward to them, but the translator selected for good reason.

Beyond that, what’s the relationship like between translators and publishers? Does the publishing house choose the title, or do you do it together?

The final word on the title is always the publisher’s. There are times, like Hürrem was originally La Sultane in French, but my judgment was that a book called The Sultana in Greek wouldn’t illustrate the personality of Roxelana, this particular sultana who was the wife of Suleiman the Magnificent, and Hürrem was much more poetic. That was my suggestion, and it’s happened again since. Other times, the publisher decides. I had a disagreement with the publisher on my latest one by Zeniter, for instance, but when I explained why the title should remain The Art of Loss, and not The Art of Losing in Greek, they agreed. There is cooperation, but the publisher makes the final decision.

Being so experienced, what would you say to a young person who wants to get in the “game”? How would they begin working with a publishing house?

What can I say, it’s a tough question. There’s no one way. It isn’t like every other profession where you see there’s an opening and show up with your CV, your degrees, and perhaps your previous experience. The question is, how does a new translator acquire experience, right? It’s difficult. It needs a lot of patience and persistence, young people need to stay positive and keep trying. The best way is presenting a sample of your work, and having the publisher evaluate it. Honestly, you need to be a little lucky. I think graduates of literary translation workshops, e.g. from the French Institute – now that Cervantes no longer exists, I don’t know how many there are left. Those graduates have more of a chance, precisely because they have a certificate, so somewhat of a specialization. They can present translations that they’d done in the workshops, so it’s more likely to happen. Otherwise… You just have to keep trying and trying.

Going back to the relationship between translator, publisher, and editor, has there been a time when you felt the editor was intervening too much, or even that you were being censored?

No. The truth is it hasn’t happened to me. Or rather… Actually it has happened. I’ve had an editor who was also a translator, and that’s another trap. I’ve done it myself. I’ve edited a text, and the translator was very displeased with how many things I’d changed. I had the tendency to do it my way, and that wasn’t my job. So, it happened because the editor was also a translator and she’d interfered so much that it was as if she’d retranslated it. In that case there was obviously a long discussion, with the participation of the publisher, and finally my version was retained in 95% of the cases, because I’d told them – and it’s unfortunate that the editor is even more obscure in this process. Their role is awkward, although it’s vital. Though they often save the translator, nobody ever wonders who the editor was. They don’t even do it about the translator. So I’d told the publisher that I take full responsibility, since, at the end of the day, it’s my name on that translation. But it was just that one time. And I think the reason was that the editor was also a translator, and got carried away.

Since you talked about translators being visible or not, we’d like to ask about translation as a profession. What are working conditions like? What are the biggest challenges a translator might face?

The greatest challenge is that the work that goes into a translation will never commensurate with the fees. Translation takes a lot of time. It takes a huge amount of time, and a huge investment. An investment of the mind, mentally, but also of the heart. That can’t be repaid easily. There are translators who’ve made a name for themselves over the years, have specialized in certain authors, therefore their fees are better than others’. But in order for them to get to that point they’ve put in a lot of hard work, I don’t think I know – I may be exaggerating, but I don’t think so – a translator, even a well-known one, who makes a living solely from translation. Everyone does something else in addition to it. So, as a livelihood it isn’t the best. It’s difficult to make a living off it, it has to be said. Even if it was well-paid, though with the difficulties in recent years fees have gone down. Sometimes there are objective difficulties in the publishing field, but oftentimes they’re a good excuse to say, you know… That being said, the volume of translated literature is enormous. There’s an enormous production of translated literature. But you either have to turn into a machine, translating non-stop – which takes away the pleasure – or do something else on top of it.

Are you in the category that does other things?

I teach at the French Institute.

So, the two combine.

Yes, they do.

As for the future of translation, how do you see it 20 years from now?

Better, I hope. It’s connected to how one sees the future of literature in general, and the future of language, because translation follows behind that, right? Obviously I don’t believe in automated translation at all. That any software, Google or whatever could ever replace the human mind and the human pen, because, in any case, you might be translating… A translator might not produce original work, but it’s still creative work. I hope human creativity, in all areas no matter what they are, will never diminish and keep getting better although we live in an era that’s largely automated, and very… Things are becoming more and more impersonal. But I’m going to stop here because I sound like a whining old lady, and I don’t want to.

In closing, what advice would you give a young student who aspires to be a professional translator?

My advice would be – and it probably applies to more than translation and it’s something I also urge my students in literary translation workshops to do – to read a lot. A lot. Both Greek and foreign literature, and to enrich their general knowledge. What we called a well-rounded education. What I see as I grow older, is that, due to racing times, things are lost, and I see young people who lack knowledge of basic things, because they’re not part of their everyday life. But if they have to translate a text they’ll be lost on what it’s talking about. So they need to cultivate their knowledge more generally. In language and literature, but also many other things, like history… Of course, the tools available now through the internet make it all much easier. For me, too. Like, for the book I did on Algeria, I’d never have found all that information. That’s a fact, right? Now, you type in a word and get infinite results. But that means nothing. Another piece of advice to young people, but any translator as well, is to be very suspicious. Don’t take anything for granted. Language is full of pitfalls. We could be sure we know the definition of something we’ve translated, but in that specific case it might have a different meaning that we hadn’t suspected. It’s a very subjective process, that takes a lot of patience and perseverance, very good concentration, but the pleasure one gets out of it is… It’s a very rewarding job. Morally, that is. Not financially. But it’s very morally rewarding.

Thank you very much.

Thank you, too.

Have a great day.

And you, too.