Dear Visu,
I have high regard for your dedication to literature and am grateful for the warmth and hospitality you have extended to me whenever I have visited the U.S. However, I must share that I was rather shocked to read your recent interview with writer and translator, Jegadeesh Kumar. I write today to record my objection to certain statements made by Jegadeesh about the practice of translation.
To your question about the use of A.I. in literary works, Jegadeesh says (and I quote him in my translation): “As far as translation goes, I regard A.I. as a boon. If I say that no translator today sits with a pen and paper in hand and translates line by line from the source text, I think you will agree with me. Today’s translation practice consists of creating a rough draft of each paragraph (of the text) using Google Translate, then using the translator’s felicity with language to edit it. If one understands that A.I is a much superior translation tool to Google Translate, it can be used effectively to produce very many translations. A.I. is a tool. If a person who translates with this tool is an expert in the two languages at play and, in addition, has deep knowledge of the domain they operate in as a translator, he or she can produce brilliant translations. A.I. can provide you with an array of potential translations for any given sentence. The duty of selecting the most precise translation rests with the translator. I think that those with the ability to make such a choice are the ones who will be known as talented translators from here on.”
Frankly, I was horrified to read this perspective from Jegadeesh, and I felt it is my duty to record my objection to such a regressive view on the art of translation itself.
First off, I wish to clarify that I do translate line by line from the source text, as do all literary translators I know, regardless of the language pair they handle. It is true of both veterans like Arunava Sinha, Nallathambi, and Kalyan Raman and young translators like Suchitra, Iswarya, and Avineni Bhaskar. In fact, Daisy Rockwell, the international booker winning translator is famous for “slowing down” her practice with a handwritten first draft. So yes, she does, in fact, translate with pen and paper in hand! All this is to say that A.I or Google Translate is not the norm in literary translation, as Jagadeesh claims in the interview. Far from it, these tools are viewed with a good degree of skepticism. Coming from a person who translates leading Tamil writers, and works in various capacities with young translators from the diaspora, it is a highly misleading, even harmful, statement to make. It is one thing to state an opinion, but quite another to speak on behalf of the entire community. The former can be debated, but the latter needs to be categorically dismissed, especially when it is so misinformed.
Why have literary translators been skeptical about the use of A.I.? A.I. learns from what exists. Whereas a creative writer pushes the boundaries of language; he or she employs language to a singular effect, that is, in a manner that is different from what exists. As far as creative texts go, A.I., it follows, will always encounter unknown territory while translating. Today, this gap is far from bridged. Without a human mind, it is impossible to produce a translation that is alive to the freshness in the original work.
But, for a moment, let’s extend this argument. What if there comes a time when A.I does achieve what a human translator can today (I personally think great translators will always trump AI, but let’s keep with the argument for argument’s sake). Well, then, maybe AI will replace human translators fully or partially. However, it would be downright unethical for any translator who uses AI, even partially, to claim the work as their own. They must disclose and credit the use of AI. As a reader, I would want to know if AI has been used in translation and be given the opportunity to decide whether I’d even want to invest time in reading such a work. I wonder if Jegadeesh has made such a disclosure in any of his translations.
The interesting question for me, though, is not how to deal with the use of AI when AI becomes that good, but where it would leave us as translators and human beings. Elsewhere in the interview, Jegadeesh talks about having begun to translate in order to develop as a creative writer—to improve his language and his understanding of craft. He quotes how Jonathan Franzen and Jeyamohan also translated early on in their writing life. He goes on to say that he doesn’t write for fame or to claim his place in history, or even for the sake of being called a writer. That is great. I wholeheartedly subscribe to the idea of writing or translating as an inherently personal journey. As I said in my panel at the Living Tamil Litfest, for me, translation is not a profession, it is a pursuit. I am by no means unique in this regard. Most of us translate because we are passionate about what we read and we derive joy from rewriting it in another language. Therefore, I’d argue that translation is not in service of a text, it is in service of the self. Jegadeesh says he began to translate in order to learn. Doesn’t the use of AI defeat that very objective? For those of us who are not professional translators in a capitalistic sense, what would we gain from using AI? What will happen to our creativity? To our idealism? What will our sense of self-worth be? If we can’t trust our own minds to be inventive and allow our hearts a chance to leap with joy when we strike a perfect note, why write at all?
In his book, The Philosophy of Translation, Damion Searls notes that “Happily, it is now possible to take for granted that translation is not just the poor stepchild of literary production—a mechanical, work-for-hire job in more or less the same category as typesetting—but a rich and fascinating practice that sheds light on many facets of art and the human condition. This has not always been the case, but in the past ten or fifteen years several prominent translators, including Edith Grossman in her 2010 book Why Translation Matters, have published personal records or reminiscences with an advocacy component—translation really is important, creative, vital—that the author proves by example.” Jegadeesh’s description of a translator’s role as a “selecting” agent sitting on top of AI generated content, negates everything that Damion talks about, everything our past masters have worked hard at establishing. It turns back the clock on translation as a creative practice and traps it in a mind numbingly boring routine.
– Priyamvada