Konstantinos Paleologos

Was it your lifelong dream to become a translator?

Νο… not in the sense that I wanted it from a young age, as some people say. It just became a need at some point. And that happened in Granada. I’m calling it “a need” now, at the time I just started translating as an excuse, i.e. I’d like some things that I’ve read to be read by my friends. E.g. some short stories. Now, however, I say in retrospect that I stayed in Granada for so many years and I rarely came to Greece, so it was probably a need to get back in touch with my mother tongue, Greek. But this may be a very sophisticated answer and may have nothing to do with reality.

What image of translation did you have before you started translating? Did it change after you became a professional translator?

What image of translation did I have? Well… I’d say that I had the image an average reader has, as I imagine it is, that is, not remembering any names of translators, thinking that books were translated in a somewhat miraculous way – okay, not so exaggerated. However, the truth is that translation as a process as a transfer of a text e.g. from German or Italian into Greek hadn’t concerned me that much.

And when you became a professional, did this image change?

Yes, of course. It changed a lot, because you start seeing the whole process, you move among translators, you constantly discuss these issues, so, okay, it’s different.

Is there a translator that you admire, that you hold up as a role model?

No. But there are a lot of translators whose work I like. Besides translators of Spanish, e.g. Kalokyris or Kyriakidis or Pratsinis, I’d say Giorgos Blanas, who translates from English. There are writers, pardon, – well, they are writers, too – there are translators that I like to read.

How do you feel when you translate a literary piece of work?

I’m a translator who has the luxury of usually choosing the books. So about 80% of the books I’ve translated are my own choices. They are books that I liked, so I get into a process that I have chosen. Okay, these situations don’t always end calmly. Many times, you can get bored of a book or a writer, or find out along the way that you didn’t like it very much, because it is one thing to read as a translator and another to read as a reader when you sometimes go through some pages faster.

What do you feel that translation offers you?

Balance. Balance. I enjoy it very much. This relationship I have with Spain and the Spanish language is a lifelong relationship. I mean that… I now consider Spain my second home. So translation is what unites these two cultures. I used to say, “I’d like some of my friends to read something so we can share it”. Well, this has now become much more general. That is, I’d like some Greeks to read something. Or when I translate vice versa I’d like some Spaniards to read something I like in Greek.

Apart from being a translator, are you also a writer?

I am an essayist. And I’ve also written some literary things that have been published… I’ve written most of them in Spanish, the literary ones, they have been published in various journals, but, okay, these are… sins… which are… I don’t know… No, I wouldn’t say that I’m a writer of literature.

Something else now.

Are you a member of a translators’ association?

No. But don’t tell anyone, because…

We’ll keep it between us. Apart from translation, however, do you do anything else?

Yes, this is the second luxury. I wanted to say before that it’s a luxury to translate things that you like. And why do you have this luxury? Because of another luxury, you can live on something else. I earn my living from university teaching, so I can say no to a book I don’t like.

Are you, however, satisfied with the financial rewards of translation?

No, but the truth is that, due to my character, I take on a lot of things, even for free, which may be wrong sometimes, because it’s bad for business, but it’s important for me that some things be translated, so I don’t pay much attention to the financial rewards. E.g. I’ve signed an agreement with a publishing house to be paid not by the publishing house but by the country… – in that case I was translating from Catalan – so if the Catalans paid, I’d get paid, otherwise I wouldn’t. Well, that’s not very professional. That’s why I say that you do such things when you have a few parachutes and a few safeguards to fall back on. If you make a living from translation – and lately more and more people have been doing it and I like it – you’ll inevitably act differently.

What special needs do you think a translator has? What do they spend their income on?

I haven’t thought about that. They are given books for free, so they don’t have to buy books, I imagine. I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. You got me on that one. On second thoughts, I’d say that most translators I know travel a lot. So they probably get something, I don’t know. Okay, they also travel to various centers and translation houses, so they have this option as well.

Are you optimistic about the future of translation in Greece?

I’m neither optimistic nor pessimistic. First of all, it’s something that’s not going to end. Despite the economic crisis, literary translation hasn’t decreased that much in amount. But the involved languages have changed. E.g. Greek translations from Spanish have decreased a lot. On the other hand, translations from Norwegian, from Swedish that we talked about before, or from Danish, have increased. But the number of literary books that are translated every year in Greece hasn’t been dramatically reduced on account of the economic crisis. Since I follow the market, I sometimes wonder why some books have come out. In order for this to happen, there should be either a readership that supports them – doubtful – or grants, which support them. So, it’s not a matter of optimism or pessimism, the market will keep developing in this area. In some cases, things will be fine, in others, they will be worse.

Ok. What is your relationship with the source language?

 With Spanish and Catalan. Mainly with Spanish, because Catalan is more recent. It’s what I said before. It was a love, it was a choice to live there, it is a country that I like, it is my second home and I read a lot of its literature, not only its own, but also what’s written in Spanish and comes from Latin America. So it’s a very strong relationship and I’ve invested a lot in studying and writing about Spanish and Latin American literature. In other words, this is my main profession.

Let’s talk about literary translation. You mentioned before that, in most cases, you had the opportunity to choose what to translate. So, what’s your relationship with the authors you translate?

I’ve met most of the authors I translate at some point. Some, most of them, before the translation process started, some others later on, when their books were given to me by publishing houses. They are all very happy to have their work translated into Greek for a reason that has nothing to do with the financial aspect of the agreement, because Greek isn’t a language that will offer them much profit. But most of them are well educated, they have studied ancient Greek at some point and it flatters them to have their work translated into Greek. And the vast majority is very helpful. They help you with answers to questions you ask them, with clarifications, even with changes in their books. So you collaborate with them. Only once did I have a problem. There was one case with a writer, who refused to show up. Considering that I have translated around 50-55 books by 30-35 authors, this one case is an insignificant percentage.

And which literary genre stimulates your interest the most?

Short fiction. That’s clear to me. Short fiction and even more so in recent years, flash fiction. That is, stories that don’t exceed 200 words. They’re a widespread tradition in Spanish.

Why this genre in particular?

I like it very much. First of all, not just now, it has always troubled me when someone writes a 1000-page, a 1200-page novel. It’s all well and good that they write it, but I get suspicious, I say: this man thinks he has something to say and can hold the interest. How does one stage 24-hour theatrical performance? I basically find this very selfish. So I prefer the wittiness of short stories.

How do you think the quality of translation can be improved?

I am at a certain age and I’ve seen it happen. Our readings, the translations of the ’70s have nothing to do with what we read today. Translators are now very different from what they used to be. They are people who know the language well, who translate from the original and not from intermediary languages and mainly they are people who have other tools. I’ve been working in bookstores since the late ’70s, so I’ve met translators – me as well when I translated my first books – who didn’t have internet at their disposal, who didn’t have dictionaries, they were of a different kind. Nowadays, I want to know for example what has happened at some point in Lima, because I am translating a Peruvian novel and I have 70 sources at my disposal. The other day I was searching for a restaurant and I found photos, the menu. Thirty years ago, this would have been impossible. I would have known neither the food nor the street, I wouldn’t have had any image. It’s completely different today. The tools, but also the people. Nowadays, they’re people who have studied, who work in a different way. I have met good and bad translators in both periods. It’s irrelevant whether they are good or not. But today there are many more good translators. What are the difficulties of a translation? What’s the easiness of a translation? I don’t know. The difficulties of a translation are many. Every book, every new text you translate has its own particularities. So this is the first difficulty and the first challenge, you start every time almost from scratch. Okay, you may have an experience, you may have traveled many miles, as we say, but every new book is a new relationship and has its own difficulties. So I couldn’t answer this question except by saying this: I don’t see much easiness in translation.

Do you have an example of a cultural element in mind, something that you found particularly difficult to render?

Yes! It happens very often. There’s something very typical in Granada, since we mentioned it before. In Granada and some other parts of Andalusia, the houses didn’t have any heating, so they invented a means of heating, which is amazing. I, too, had it in my house in Granada. It’s a round table, with a blanket that reaches the floor, and underneath it used to have a brazier with charcoal and now it has an electric heater. That’s what they call “brasero”. Well, that’s the center of the house in all these areas. So what does that mean? The temperature in Granada can reach -11°. They tell you, “It’s south here, we don’t need radiators”. So when you get under the “brasero” and take your blanket, you don’t leave this place on any account, you don’t even go to the toilet ’cause there’s a difference in temperature of around 25 degrees. I’ve experienced it, it’s really like that. So, at some point I was translating a short story, and the word “brasero” came up. Let’s be honest, it’s impossible to translate it. I don’t remember how I translated it, maybe “heater”. But you miss the image. You have to add footnotes and I had decided I wouldn’t add any. But this is the case with Spanish and with specific words. E.g. the Spaniards have the word “desamor” which is obviously not “amor”, love, it is not “odio”, hatred, it is when you fall out of love. Well, that’s a difficult word. There’s an entire philosophy underneath. Or Lorca wrote about the famous “duende”, which is an elf, but in essence it is what the Aldalusians say distinguishes mediocre people from those who have a star, who stand out, and they may be a plumber or a dancer or a bullfighter and they shine so bright. These words are hard to render, but okay. I guess it happens in Greek as well.

Me too. How do you deal with criticism of your work?

Okay, there’s a politically correct answer: “It’s amazing and even a negative critique leads you to…” The truth is that one of the problems, one of the issues, one of the conditions of a translator’s profession is that they’re exposed. They are exposed to criticism. They are like an actor, footballer or author. Translation has to do with the public, so anyone can… This is difficult to manage. On the other hand, translation criticism isn’t very widespread in Greece and I wouldn’t regard as criticism various phrases like “flowing translation” and such. So yes, I think I grew 20 cm taller when Kostis Papagiorgis wrote a positive review of me. If he had written a negative review of me, I would have dug a hole to hide in. You can be very much influenced by criticism and sometimes in Greece we are experts in making ill-intentioned criticism. This can be very difficult for anyone to bear.

Let’s move on to another area: copyright. Do you think that the law on copyright applies in the field of translation?

No. No, and we are all to blame for that. The other day we had a round-table discussion here in Thessaloniki on this issue. There was also a representative from Spain. From Spain, I mean, not from Norway or Sweden. Well, the situation in Spain is so different from ours here in Greece, as if we were talking about a different world. Imagine what it would be like, if someone from the above mentioned countries attended the conversation. We are all to blame. Our trade sometimes treats things in an elitist way and is not interested in the fine print of contracts, so we sign whatever they give us. And sometimes we don’t sign anything.

And what about editing? Do you consider it necessary?

It’s necessary, necessary, necessary! Necessary to the point that if the publisher doesn’t see to it, you have to find another way to get it done. It’s unthinkable that a book will come out without at least one more pair of eyes having read it. Not a book, not even a shopping list.

So this is something you generally practice.

I have engaged thousands of people.

What about title choice? Who decides on that when you translate a book?

It’s usually me that decides. I can’t think of an exceptional case where someone else decided on the title, but I am actually obsessed with titles. That is, if I don’t have a title, I don’t work. Either the text is mine or someone else’s. The title may change later, it may turn out that it was stupid, wrong, that I hadn’t read the book through and I didn’t know what would happen next, but if I don’t have a title I cannot proceed. So I defend my choice afterwards. The title is a very important part.

Thank you very much.

I thank you. Be well.