I was talking with Danilo Arona, yesterday night.
The Wolfman Jack of Italian imaginative fiction, he’s one of the most intelligent persons I know, and a great writer, with an impressive brace of titles on his CV.
It was a rainy night in Alessandria and we were waiting for some book presentation to start and I mentioned one of his stories will be up for translation soon (well, soon-ish).
“The big idea is to try and sell our stuff to the Yankees,” I told him.
He gave me his classic warning grin.
“That’s the closest market on earth,” he said. “Because they are totally dedicated to professionalism.”
Which means you are a writer when you earn your living writing, and a translator when translating is what gives you your daily bread.
Here in Italy, a precious few are up to that – many keep their day job throughout their whole career, and so are “teacher and writer”, “journalist and author”, “doctor and novelist”…
Translators are either part-time creatures or spend their lives chained to the keyboard, alterning a chapter of historical novel with a chapter of true confessions and one of popular science, to be able and reach that minimum page-count per month that will let them survive.
This state of affairs means different timetables for the publishing world – you can’t ask for fast churning out of novels to someone you pay so little he has to work an eight-hour day and then set down to write.
It also means a different attitude of the publishers towards the writers – a bunch of amateurs, after all, right?
And translators?
In the age of computers, if we can do without editors and proof-readers, what do we care for translators? Just go and hire someone fresh form Languages High School…
So, will this Anglo-tongued version of Alia crash and burn under the weight of the unprofessional attitudes of all those involved?
Will the Yankees, and the Japanese, and whoever else, look down upon our landing on their shores (metaphorically speaking), and dismiss our offer as a deliettante effort?
The only thing I know is, if we never try it, we’ll never know.