Argyro Mantoglou

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon.

How did literary translation come into your life?

The first books I translated were my own choice. There wasn’t a publisher who assigned me a translation. The first book I translated was George Eliot’s The Lifted Veil, which I really loved. I was studying at the time and I thought it would be good to have it rendered in our language and I also thought that this was my mission. I started translating it very slowly for my own pleasure. At the same time I was also translating a novella by Henry James, The Lesson of the Master, and I felt that this too should be rendered in Greek and that at some point I would find a publisher. All this took years. I found a publisher after a long time, the books were published, these translations, these two short stories, and that’s how I got into the translation field. The next one was Virginia Woolf’s essays, which was also my choice. I wasn’t doing it professionally at the time. I was translating texts I thought they absolutely had to be translated into Greek. After that, more translations came up. Publishers assigned me books, which they wanted translated within a specific time frame. There was a deadline and a fee. That’s how it started. But I began translating because I wanted to render two or three specific texts into Greek and I did.

Did you have any criteria in terms of subject or did you just want to render them into Greek yourself?

Virginia Woolf’s essays – the first publication, because it was republished – were some essays that I was very much interested in, both as a woman and as a woman who is writing in the late 20th century – that’s when I translated them. Virginia Woolf wrote these essays in the early 20th century, and I saw that not many things have changed. And I felt it was my task to translate these texts into Greek. They had a lot to do with my own theoretical quests as well. I was translating passages from Virginia Woolf’s texts, which I was using in my theoretical texts. Then these passages became so many that, actually, the whole texts were published too.

What kind of translation problems do you usually encounter in the translation process and how do you deal with them?

The ones I now encounter don’t have to do so much with pragmatics – we find those – nor with issues that have to do with information – we find those too. The rendering of humor is the most difficult thing for me. In Virginia Woolf’s Orlando there is this underlying humor that took me many years to understand. I was also recently translating the Australian author Peter Carey. He has very peculiar humor. If you get it, it’s great, if you don’t, it’s incomprehensible. It’s difficult to be able to render into Greek what is not a joke or a funny story. The whole text is like that. The whole text undermines itself. It says something and means something else. That’s what I find the most difficult. And what can you do? You either abandon the book, which I have never done so yet, but I’m often ready to, especially with Carey, or you put it aside… and dream of it. That is, I leave it for a while and find solutions in time. Of course, when there’s a deadline, you get literally sick. There’s so much pressure to find a solution that, yes, I have happened to get sick.

Let’s now move on to translation as a profession. Do you find the financial rewards in literary translation satisfactory?

There’s no easy way to answer that. I certainly don’t think they are satisfactory, especially in Greece. I have spoken to European colleagues who have translated a tenth of the books I have, and they are well paid and there is a lot of appreciation for them. Here it’s not like that. While we have very good translators, the fees are not up to par, and in fact, due to the crisis, the fees have been significantly reduced.

So do you think that the status of the translator in Greece…

The translator is not considered a person worthy of attention and support. I remember I was at a conference in Marseille years ago, and I mentioned somewhere that I had translated Henry James. And two or three people came up to me and said in admiration, “But, you’re so young,” meaning I didn’t appear to be able to do so. They thought that whoever translates Henry James must be… because it’s very difficult. I didn’t see anyone here wondering how it is possible that I have translated it. Obviously these texts are a true feat to transfer into another language. And this is both appreciated and duly rewarded. Here, I don’t know, okay, it’s a feat, but we think we accomplish something because we like it, not because we have to make a living.

Regarding the contemporary authors of the texts you translate, what is your relationship with them, do you have any contact with them?

Yes, I exchanged some e-mails with Peter Carey, because his book was difficult to render and fortunately he helped me in some points. Before Ishiguro got the Nobel Prize, I was translating The Buried Giant by him. We exchanged two or three e-mails, nothing further was necessary. I think authors are willing to help if necessary. I try not to… A lot of times, their answers, instead of making it easier for me, create more of a problem. They write me long screeds and I need specific information. But yes, I try to contact them when there is no other way.

And what do you think of the relationship among translators, editors and publishers? Is editing necessary or not?

Absolutely. A good editor can save both you and the book. They can find mistakes and things that don’t sound quite right or improve an expression. But good editors are few and far between because they are not affordable. It’s a matter of cost. But I believe editing is necessary, especially in demanding books. And so is the collaboration between translator and editor. Whenever I’ve had this, I’ve been more relaxed and happier and more confident that I will not be exposed, because when no one else edits the book I deliver, major mistakes might have escaped my attention. A second professional is required, it’s essential.

Have you experienced any instances of censorship? Has an editor or publisher ever changed your text?

Yes, it has happened to me. Of course… Do you mean if they’ve changed it and made it worse?

Maybe worse or more commercial, in your opinion.

No. The books I translate aren’t commercial anyway and they have no right to cut out parts of the text. You can’t cut out something from Ishiguro or Carey. I haven’t had that kind of text manipulation because I haven’t worked with commercial texts. A proofreader had sometimes negatively intervened and I realized it in hindsight. E.g. I had delivered texts with possible solutions and he found other solutions of his own. And I saw afterwards that mine were better. But I didn’t have, you know, the readiness to correct the proofreader at the time. So, yes, this has happened.

Have you received any criticism for your translation work that may have affected you or made you feel wronged?

Yes. There are people who never bother with you – because I also have my writing work – and they might see a mistake somewhere in a translation and write on a Sunday newspaper about that one mistake in 500 pages. It has happened to me, yes. And it was a big shock. It was August 15th, people were on vacation, I was at the beach and I was watching everybody reading the Vima newspaper and there was a text that said something about a mistake of mine. I don’t remember… Actually I do, I just don’t want to mention it. It was a mistake of mine in a book which should have been rendered differently. I was younger then and I panicked that the whole world saw the mistake. It’s a little shocking. There should be criticism, I don’t disagree, but the person who decides to engage in translation criticism should see the translation as a whole and not one mistake that might be… I think my mistake had to do with pragmatics, a character was a scientist and I called him a researcher, or something like that, I don’t remember. Anyway, it had to do with pragmatics. And it’s a little bit unfair, I think, to focus on one word and miss the whole text.

Are you optimistic about the future of translation in Greece?

Yes, I am optimistic, because I see that there are new translators who are doing a very good job and it is also a pleasure for me to read books that are well translated by people younger than me. I hope fees will increase too and young professionals will be motivated to be involved in translation. Yes, I am optimistic, because new translations of classics are made and the language is enriched. I think there is a future, yes, as long as publishers start paying better too. I think that’s where the issue is.

Do you have any advice to give to a student who may be discovering translation now and wishes to pursue it professionally?

Professionally? Okay, it’s not a profession I would recommend to someone saying, “Be a translator”. But if they really like it… I like this job because I like working alone and in my own time, meaning that sometimes I can sleep during the day and work at night. I have this freedom regarding the working hours and I like it. Of course, there’s also a negative side to it because you may work 24 hours, but this freedom to work where you want, at whatever time you want, is important, I think. What advice would I give? I would advise them to first start translating a text they love, not to do it for money or because someone has asked them to do it, but because they want to do it. That is where they will be tested. If they love doing it and if through that text they get joy, then, yes, they can pursue it professionally. They may not like it at all. They may think they like it, but realize they don’t. And most importantly, they should want to be alone and work in their own time. This job is not appropriate for a highly sociable and outgoing person. If you’re an extrovert and you want people around you, you can’t work 12 to 15 hours by yourself. Of course, now that’s possible, too. You can take your laptop and go to a café. I don’t, but other people do it. I can’t work in an open space, but other colleagues can. They go to a café or the beach and work there. I think it’s significant to enjoy the company of yourself. If you don’t, you’d better find another job.

That’s where we come to the end of our interview. Thank you very much for your time.

I thank you, too. The questions were great. I had a good time and I also got to see another perspective of what I do.

Thank you very much.