Space for the Imperfect

I do not read Italian easily. When I read Fratelli tutti, I read it in English. Some time afterwards, I was invited to give a talk about it for a Dutch group. To my surprise, in almost every memorable phrase I wanted to quote, I found the Dutch translation lacking. This surprised me, as it had been produced by the Flemish, who tend to combine accuracy with readability.

(For some reason, the Netherlands insist on producing their own Dutch translations in addition to the Flemish ones; these are usually well-intentioned but overly literal and rather clunky as a result.)

Some examples of nuances that got lost in the Flemish translation:

Sapore

(1) il gusto e il sapore della realtà (FT 33) has been translated as de smaak en geur van de realiteit (the taste and smell of reality). English: “the taste and flavour of the truly real”. Flavour is more than smell. As far as I know, gusto and sapore both mean “taste”, but gusto is the taste you have for something (appetite), whereas sapore is the taste something has of itself.

In the first paragraph Pope Francis refers to il sapore del Vangelo “the flavour of the Gospel”. His choice of words connects the Gospel and reality, in the sense that both have a “taste” that can be appreciated. This fits squarely into the Ignatian spiritual tradition.

Also, the use of sapore makes it possible to point out that sapiens, the Latin word for “wise”, literally means “tasting”. Wise discernment, then, is only possible when one knows the flavour of the Gospel and of reality. And flavour is more than smell, because it is connected to nourishment, to that which feeds us, becomes part of us and gives us life.

(The Kantian adage Sapere aude! “Dare to know!” could also be translated as “Dare to taste!” Although this maxim might not be universally approved of, certainly not by Kant.)

Per questo

(2) About the Samaritan in the parable, Pope Francis writes: La dedizione al servizio era la grande soddisfazione davanti al suo Dio e alla sua vita, e per questo un dovere. (FT 79)

This has been translated: Zijn poging om iemand anders te helpen, gaf hem grote voldoening in het leven en tegenover zijn God, en betekende voor hem gewoon zijn plicht doen. (His attempt to help someone else gave him great satisfaction in life and before his God, and meant for him simply doing his duty.)

English: “His effort to assist another person gave him great satisfaction in life and before his God, and thus became a duty.”

In this case, I think both translations fall short. They refer to an isolated incident, an “attempt” or “effort”, whereas the original speaks of dedizione al servizio (dedication to service) as a character trait. But later in the sentence, the English gets something right which the Dutch doesn’t, because the Dutch simply juxtaposes “satisfaction” and “duty”. In both the Italian and the English, it is quite clear that duty is causally subordinate to satisfaction: service gave the Samaritan great satisfaction, and per questo “thus” it was a duty.

This, too, is part of Ignatian spirituality: your heart’s joy indicates your appointed path.

Nessuno si salva

(3) Repetition is a form of emphasis. There is a phrase that occurs three times: nessuno si salva “no one is saved”. Obviously this verb, while it could refer to any threat, has a strong theological connotation: being saved from sin to live in nearness to God.

These are the three times it is used in Fratelli tutti:

- ci siamo ricordati che nessuno si salva da solo, che ci si può salvare unicamente insieme (FT 32). English: “Once more we realized that no one is saved alone; we can only be saved together.”

- hanno capito che nessuno si salva da solo (FT 54). English: “They [viz. the people who provided essential services during the pandemic] understood that no one is saved alone.”

And then the clincher:

- Abbiamo bisogno di far crescere la consapevolezza che oggi o ci salviamo tutti o nessuno si salva (FT 137). English: “We need to develop the awareness that nowadays we are either all saved together or no one is saved.”

A bold statement that could give any traditional systematic theologian an outbreak of rashes. I don’t know if they were on the Flemish translation committee, but this translation certainly neutralizes the impact:

We moeten het bewustzijn ontwikkelen dat we de problemen van onze tijd alleen samen of helemaal niet zullen oplossen (We need to develop the awareness that we will solve the problems of our time either together or not at all).

Come on – “solving” is not “saving”, let alone “being saved”! I suppose the Flemish decided on a more optimistic translation of ci salviamo, “we are saved” which can also be translated “we save ourselves”. But still!

(Side note: it is interesting that the statement “no one is saved alone” is always prefaced by a verb of mental activity: ci siamo ricordati “we remembered”, hanno capito “they understood”, far crescere la consapevolezza “make the awareness grow”.)

Focolare

(4) When discussing the importance of the State as a safeguard of tranquil family life, un caldo focolare domestico (“a warm domestic hearth”, FT 164) has been translated: een huis (a house). No comment.

A tense situation

These were sentences I wanted to quote to my Dutch audience, and at every turn I had to correct the translation. I knew something was off because I remembered it was different in the English translation. But while I was referring back to the Italian original, I noticed something else, a revolutionary point that has been erased in both the English and the Dutch translations.

You see, Pope Francis makes an unprecedented move in the last chapter on interreligious dialogue. He omits any reference to the Christian religion as the ultimate revelation which everyone is called to adhere to. But he does not minimize his own commitment to faith in Jesus Christ. In fact he says – and here I will quote the official English translation first:

“We Christians are very much aware that “if the music of the Gospel ceases to resonate in our very being, we will lose the joy born of compassion, the tender love born of trust, the capacity for reconciliation that has its source in our knowledge that we have been forgiven and sent forth. If the music of the Gospel ceases to sound in our homes, our public squares, our workplaces, our political and financial life, then we will no longer hear the strains that challenge us to defend the dignity of every man and woman”. Others drink from other sources.”

When I first read it, I thought the Pope went pretty far already with the concluding sentence, dropping this fact of life on his readers so casually and without any hint of regret or concern. Then I read the preceding quote in Italian, and my appreciation deepened.

Se la musica del Vangelo smette di suonare nelle nostre case, nelle nostre piazze, nei luoghi di lavoro, nella politica e nell’economia, avremo spento la melodia che ci provocava a lottare per la dignità di ogni uomo e donna.

Two letters made all the difference.

The English translation speaks of “the strains that challenge us”. This is the present tense, which may be used to indicate a general and abstract truth. Beavers build dams. Lampposts increase visibility and safety. The Gospel challenges us to fight for dignity. The present tense gently encourages us to include generally everyone in ‘us’, just as Red Bull’s slogan “It gives you wings” is not aimed at a specific ‘you’. And so, “The Gospel challenges us” becomes a statement about the Gospel, not about us.

(The Dutch translation suffers from the same problem: de melodie die ons oproept te vechten “the melody that summons us to fight” – also present tense.)

But this is different in the Italian. The tense is imperfect: not provoca, but provocava. The imperfect tense describes things that went on for a while, or habitually. The melody of the Gospel provoked us, or rather kept on provoking us to fight for dignity.

The imperfect tense gives the reader space to compare his own experience with the experience described. Perhaps he feels an allegiance to the Gospel, but does not remember it challenging him to fight for someone else’s dignity; in that case, perhaps it is not too late to make the experience his own. Perhaps the Gospel does not form part of his life story; in that case, he will have heard not a religious advertisement, but the sediment of an old man’s personal experiences and encounters. Which does not call for affirmation or rejection, but only asks to be taken seriously.

So much is lost when we do not give space to the imperfect.

(As I write this, I notice another discrepancy. If the music of the Gospel ceases to sound, then what? According to the English translation, we will no longer hear the strains that challenge us. This is a simple future tense: we will (not) hear. But the Italian uses a more complex tense, the futuro anteriore, a tense that takes a future vantage point in order to look back: avremo spento, “we will have turned off”.

If the melody of the Gospel ceases to sound, we will have turned it off.)