To Be Translated Or Not To Be

Linguistic areas are currently undergoing a radical continental drift: those countries which speak English, the most important lingua franca of globalisation, are increasingly isolating themselves from the rest of the world. According to research by the renowned American linguist and translator Esther Allen, translated fiction makes up an ever-declining proportion of total published titles in the USA. America likes to think of itself as a cosmopolitan nation which is committed to cultural diversity but in fact more books are translated from other languages in the Arab world than in the USA .

In global terms, the main languages after English are Spanish and Chinese. Although German is still a much-used language in Europe, at a global level it has become the “Ancient Greek of the present day,” as the cultural journalist Thierry Chervel describes it in the last edition of the Culture Report. However, the majority of Europe’s literary output is written in minority languages, and these works attract little attention outside their language borders. With just one or two exceptions, most authors from Central and Eastern Europe are largely unknown in the West.

If a Croatian, Czech or Ukrainian writer is successful in Germany or France, they are [also] reviewed in the Hungarian arts pages […]

One of the problems lies in the fact that there are fewer and fewer key communicators, journalists, publishers and translators who understand these neighbouring languages. So anyone born into one of the small linguistic areas of Central or Eastern Europe has to face two problems: firstly the lack of global recognition afforded one’s fellow countrymen, and secondly the difficulty in getting to know the literature and culture of one’s neighbours due to the onward march of globalisation.

In Hungary, for instance, people have to be fluent in English, German and French in order to compete in the job market. Nowadays there are hardly any Hungarian intellectuals who can speak Slovak, Ukrainian, Croatian or Romanian. By and large, the Hungarian literary scene appreciates the literature and culture of their neighbours through the medium of the major Western European languages. If a Croatian, Czech or Ukrainian writer is successful in Germany or France, they are reviewed in the Hungarian arts pages and the publishing houses try out some initial translations. If an important East European author is for some reason not available in German, English or French, then it is possible he will never be read by his international neighbours.

For this reason, the publishing houses of Western Europe play a crucial role: they have the potential to discover unknown authors from Central and Eastern Europe, though of course they also have to accept the attendant risks. In this way they can bridge the gap between the linguistic and cultural areas of Eastern and Western Europe and make an important contribution to cross-European understanding. And there is always the possibility that they will act as a springboard into the global, English-speaking book world.

Ten years ago, hardly a single German publisher showed any interest in Hungarian authors. But since then not only Imre Kertész but most other major Hungarian authors have become popular in Germany. Various factors have led to Hungarian authors being discovered and translated into German: the invitation issued to more than twenty Hungarian writers to spend a year working in Berlin as part of the Berlin Artists-in-Residence programme organised by the German Academic Exchange Service; the featuring of Hungary as Guest Country at the 1999 Frankfurt Book Fair; and the Nobel Prize in Literature, which was awarded to Imre Kertész in 2002.

The renaissance of Hungarian literature began with classic works of the 1920s and 1930s by Sándor Márai, Dezső Kosztolányi und Antal Szerb. Most new translations coming out of Hungary have been met with rave reviews in the German arts pages and book sales have largely surpassed all expectations. Several major literary prizes have gone to Hungarian writers, including the Nobel Prize in Literature to Imre Kertész (2002), the Peace Prize of the German Book Trade to Péter Esterházy (2004), the Franz Kafka Prize (2003) and the Leipzig Book Prize for European Understanding to Péter Nádas (1995).

Nowadays there are hardly any Hungarian intellectuals who can speak Slovak, Ukrainian, Croatian or Romanian.

The literary and cultural ties between Berlin and Budapest have been further strengthened by the fact that Hungarian writers held or still hold important positions within German cultural institutions. For example, György Konrád was the long-time President of the Berlin Academy of the Arts, and Péter Esterházy is still a member, while Imre Kertész is a member of the German Academy for Language and Poetry. But it is not only Hungarians who have successfully broken into the German book market, other East European authors who have made their mark include Juri Andruchowytsch and Svetlana Alexievich from the Ukraine, Dubravka Ugresic from Croatia, Andrzej Stasiuk, Ryszard Kapuscinski, Pawel Huelle und Dorota Maslowska from Poland and Mircea Cartarescu from Romania.

There is a two-way traffic of intensive and lively literary exchanges between Germany and the countries of Central and Eastern Europe. However, Eastern Europe’s literary ties to the rest of Western Europe are much more one-sided. The countries on the periphery translate a lot of works coming out of the centre, and there is much more translation from majority languages into minority languages than the other way round. Is it a coincidence or are German publishers, translators, reviewers and readers more tuned in to the literature of their eastern neighbours?

In his essay Warum gerade Berlin? (Why Berlin?), Imre Kertész writes: “For Eastern European writers, the road usually leads via Berlin to other languages and then carries on into world literature.” He emphasises how the city creates a bridge between Eastern and Western literature, and comments that other West European cultures such as the French or English prefer to be more self-sufficient.

Péter Esterházy attaches great importance to the Berlin Artists-in-Residence programme organised by the German Academic Exchange Service, and writes: “The year in Berlin not only changed our lives and our writing but also changed the whole of contemporary Hungarian literature.” The close literary ties between Berlin and Budapest have also indirectly contributed to a more realistic and positive image of Germany among Hungarians. Berlin provides a main point of reference or location for many contemporary Hungarian novels, novellas and essays.

Not so long ago, Berlin had a similar image to Helsinki or Oslo – nice, but a long way away and always raining. But today it is an attractive destination, particularly for well-educated, well-off Hungarians. Word has got around that Berlin is one of the world’s most exciting and innovative cultural centres.