The Islandman ....'bosh and bunk' or 'a masterly translation'?
* 'A greater parcel of bosh and bunk than Flower's Islandman has rarely been imposed on the unsuspecting public.' Flann O'Brien
'Dr Flower is the ideal interpreter...a masterly translation' Professor D.A. Binchy
When I first set out to read 'An t-Oileánach' my objective was to improve my reading and comprehension skills in Irish. I thought I could speed up that process by comparing 'An t-Oileánach' page by page with 'The Islandman', a translation of the book into English by Robin Flower. But having trained as a translator I found myself more and more critiquing the translation. I revisited a textbook I studied as an undergraduate called Approaches To Translation by Newmark and took note of the following key points to see how the translators of 'An t-Oileánach' dealt with these issues in attempting to translate an Irish 'masterpiece' or 'classic' for an English readership.
In 'Approaches To Translation' Newmark states:
1. The translator has to assist his reader...not funk the issue by rendering it 'correctly'. p.128
2. The translator must not use a word or phrase that sounds intuitively unnatural or artificial to him. p.129
3. Equivalent-effect principle ...Thus if the SL (*) author deviates widely from the collocational, lexical, syntactic, metrical, prosodic, semantic norms of his own language, one would expect the TL text to do likewise, and to have the flavour of a translation. p.133
4. Figurative language only becomes meaningful, if it is recreated in the metaphors of the target language and its culture, or, if this is not possible, reduced to its sense. p.45
metaphors ...view with scepticism. p.89
Assisting The Reader
While I am mainly concerned here with critiquing Robin Flower's translation 'The Islandman', for the purpose of comparison, I have chosen a short excerpt from the original 'An t-Oileánach' and assess how Robin Flower in 'The Islandman' and Barrister & Sowby in 'The Islander' translate this same excerpt. Then I suggest how I might render the same passage, told in the original as a humorous anecdote.
Translating Humour
The Irish pride themselves on their great wit (after all, Oscar Wilde and G.B.Shaw, both Irishmen, are world famous for quotable gems of wit ). But I doubt that anyone in Ireland, or Dingle or anywhere in the world would fall around the place laughing at a man politely greeting a woman on entering a shop. And it beggars belief that the words 'Good day! Mrs. Atkins' should be described as the 'quip that caused the greatest fun there'd been in Dingle since the Famine'.
The people of Dingle can't have been that hard up for a laugh that a common greeting sent them into hysterics of laughter to the extent that they 'drop stone-dead'! Surely, something has been lost in translation?
Here is the original text:
Craobh de chuallacht strainséartha a b'ea an tigh mór seo, le muintir Atkins, a raibh gach sórt á dhíol ann. Tigh bréa ornáideach a b'ea é. Bhí deilbh mná ar chathaoir idir an dá chuntúirt ann, toirt aon mhná tuaithe inti agus a haghaidh ar an ndoras.
Ar dhul thar doras isteach do mo dhuine gan chiall, bain de a hata ag beannú don bhean.
'Dia is Muire duit, a mháistreás Atkins!' ar seisean.
Sin é an carúl is mó a bhain sult amach i nDaingean Uí Chúise ó bhí an drochshaol ann.
Ní raibh fear ó aon aird istigh ná gur thit fuar marbh le snaidhmeanna gáirí, fir oibre an tí agus huachtaráin chomh maith, ar chloisint chainte an fhir bhaoith dóibh. Dá mbeadh dealramh an iomarca dí air, cad é an tábhacht cad a déarfadh nó a dhéanfadh a léithéid, ach is air ná raibh sé.
'An t-Oileánach'
Helicon p.77
Flower's Translation
The big shop was a branch of a company from another part-Atkins's- selling all sorts of goods.
It was a fine handsome shop. There was a model of a woman standing on a chair between the two counters facing the doorway, as bulky as any woman of the countryside. When my man was coming through the door, he swept off his hat in greeting to the woman!
'Good day! Mrs. Atkins,' says he.
Ever since the days of the great famine no speech has caused so much laughter in Dingle as that. There wasn't a man from anywhere in the shop that didn't drop stone-dead, every one of them, writhing with laughter, shopmen and masters alike, when they heard what the fool said. If there had been the faintest trace of too much drink on him, none of them would have given a thought to what a man in that state said or did; but he showed no sign of it.
'The Islandman' p.70
Barrister & Sowbys' Translation
The store was a branch of a foreign firm, where there was every sort of thing on sale.
It was a fine ornate store with a statuesque woman on a chair sitting between the two counters on either side, facing the door. She had the appearance of a countrywoman. When he went through the door the eejit took off his hat to greet the woman.
Good day! Mrs. Atkins
That quip caused the greatest fun there'd been in Dingle since the Famine. There wasn't a person from anywhere in there that didn't drop cold dead in stitches of laughter. So did the shop workers and bosses as well, hearing the talk of this silly man. If he had given the slightest appearance of being drunk, no one would have bothered about whatever he had to say or do, but there wasnt the slightest sign that he had taken any drink at all.
'The Islander'
Both of these translations failed to assist the reader because the translators got lost in a fog of translating words and ignored a key asset to any would-be translator., i.e. common sense.
If someone tells you a supposed joke or 'funny' story that fails to amuse you in the least, a common response would be to ask the question 'What's so funny about that?' Humour is a funny thing, get one word wrong or rush the punch-line and the joke falls flat. Both translators got caught out in translating the words 'deilbh mná', words which were crucial to get right if the incident was to be considered at all humorous. Another great asset to a translator is a good dictionary and Ó Dónaill's Foclóir Gaeilge-Béarla provides excellent definitions and a wealth of contextual examples of usage.
According to Ó Dónaill 'deilbh' can mean:
1. frame, figure; shape, appearance.
As an example of usage he gives, 'Is brea an deilbh fir atá air', he is a fine figure of a man
2. weaving: Warp
3. = Dealbh
Now what interests here is the third meaning, so off we go again in search of further clarification and meanings. 'Dealbh', in turn, means 'statue'; an example given is dealbh chinn, bhrád, bust, head
Flower renders 'deilbh mná' as 'a model of a woman', and has her 'standing on a chair' and then describes her as 'bulky as any woman of the countryside' and confirms that it is definitely a woman we are talking about here by 'correctly' rendering 'ag beannú don bhean' as 'in greeting to the woman!'
Barrister & Sowby render 'deilbh mná' as 'a statuesque woman' and have her 'on a chair'. Now comes an awkward grammatically incorrect sentence construction. The placement of 'sitting' after 'chair' implies the 'chair' and not the woman was doing the 'sitting' and also 'the counters on either side' begs the question- either side of what? But the real issue here is, that, just like Flower, they confirm that the story involves an actual person- a woman and not a statue or shop mannequin : 'She had the appearance of a countrywoman. ... the eejit took off his hat to greet the woman.'
If we translate 'deilbh mná' as 'a statue of a woman' and do not get sucked into translating 'correctly'
'ag beannú don bhean' as 'in greeting to the woman!' there is a chance we might get the humour of the author. Tomás Ó Criomhthain is a storyteller, not a writer, and in his book he does not necessarily dot every 'i' and cross every 't' in talking about his life. He assumed that it was clear that this story was about his brother-in-law saying hello to 'a statue of a woman' (deilbh mná), He did not think it was necessary to repeat 'deilbh mná' in the phrase 'ag beannú don bhean' to emphasize that point. What other 'woman' would he be talking about if not the 'deilbh mná'? But the story makes no sense and is devoid of humour if the reader is left in any doubt as to whether the author means 'a statue of a woman' or 'a woman'- an actual person.
Point 2. Figurative language only becomes meaningful, if it is recreated in the metaphors of the target language and its culture, or, if this is not possible, reduced to its sense.
drop stone-dead, writhing with laughter
There are certain collocations that we associate instinctively with laughter and if we examine these two phrases there is something decidedly odd about them. Both phrases are connected with fear and painful experiences rather than laughter. If I had to make up a sentence with 'drop stone-dead', the first one that springs to mind is:
e.g. He dropped stone-dead with fright
If set as a multiple-choice question on correct word collocation which phrase would you choose?
a)writhing with laughter
or
b)writhing with pain
The phrase in the original Irish text is 'thit fuar marbh le snaidhmeanna gáirí'
So can we follow Newmark's advice and recreate in English find a metaphor or phrase that strikes us as similar in sentiment to the original. Yes! We have the phrase 'nearly died laughing'.
And we also have 'stitches of laughter' corresponding to 'snaidhmeanna gáirí'
'Thit' is past tense of the verb 'to fall', so we could say 'fall about in stitches of laughter'
Flower ignored all of these options and created unnatural phrases that broke another rule set down by Newmark; i.e. The translator must not use a word or phrase that sounds intuitively unnatural or artificial to him.
Barrister & Sowby went for a literal word-for-word translation of 'thit fuar marbh le snaidhmeanna gáirí' with 'drop cold dead in stitches of laughter'. Once again you have 'unnatural' sounding phrases.
The Principle of Equivalent-Effect: Syntax and Grammar
The Irish pride themselves on their great wit (after all, Oscar Wilde and G.B.Shaw, both Irishmen, are world famous for quotable gems of wit ). But I doubt that anyone in Ireland, or Dingle or anywhere in the world would fall around the place laughing at a man politely greeting a woman on entering a shop. And it beggars belief that the words 'Good day! Mrs. Atkins' should be described as the 'quip that caused the greatest fun there'd been in Dingle since the Famine'.
The people of Dingle can't have been that hard up for a laugh that a common greeting sent them into hysterics of laughter to the extent that they 'drop stone-dead'! Surely, something has been lost in translation?
Here is the original text:
Craobh de chuallacht strainséartha a b'ea an tigh mór seo, le muintir Atkins, a raibh gach sórt á dhíol ann. Tigh bréa ornáideach a b'ea é. Bhí deilbh mná ar chathaoir idir an dá chuntúirt ann, toirt aon mhná tuaithe inti agus a haghaidh ar an ndoras.
Ar dhul thar doras isteach do mo dhuine gan chiall, bain de a hata ag beannú don bhean.
'Dia is Muire duit, a mháistreás Atkins!' ar seisean.
Sin é an carúl is mó a bhain sult amach i nDaingean Uí Chúise ó bhí an drochshaol ann.
Ní raibh fear ó aon aird istigh ná gur thit fuar marbh le snaidhmeanna gáirí, fir oibre an tí agus huachtaráin chomh maith, ar chloisint chainte an fhir bhaoith dóibh. Dá mbeadh dealramh an iomarca dí air, cad é an tábhacht cad a déarfadh nó a dhéanfadh a léithéid, ach is air ná raibh sé.
'An t-Oileánach'
Helicon p.77
Flower's Translation
The big shop was a branch of a company from another part-Atkins's- selling all sorts of goods.
It was a fine handsome shop. There was a model of a woman standing on a chair between the two counters facing the doorway, as bulky as any woman of the countryside. When my man was coming through the door, he swept off his hat in greeting to the woman!
'Good day! Mrs. Atkins,' says he.
Ever since the days of the great famine no speech has caused so much laughter in Dingle as that. There wasn't a man from anywhere in the shop that didn't drop stone-dead, every one of them, writhing with laughter, shopmen and masters alike, when they heard what the fool said. If there had been the faintest trace of too much drink on him, none of them would have given a thought to what a man in that state said or did; but he showed no sign of it.
'The Islandman' p.70
Barrister & Sowbys' Translation
The store was a branch of a foreign firm, where there was every sort of thing on sale.
It was a fine ornate store with a statuesque woman on a chair sitting between the two counters on either side, facing the door. She had the appearance of a countrywoman. When he went through the door the eejit took off his hat to greet the woman.
Good day! Mrs. Atkins
That quip caused the greatest fun there'd been in Dingle since the Famine. There wasn't a person from anywhere in there that didn't drop cold dead in stitches of laughter. So did the shop workers and bosses as well, hearing the talk of this silly man. If he had given the slightest appearance of being drunk, no one would have bothered about whatever he had to say or do, but there wasnt the slightest sign that he had taken any drink at all.
'The Islander'
Both of these translations failed to assist the reader because the translators got lost in a fog of translating words and ignored a key asset to any would-be translator., i.e. common sense.
If someone tells you a supposed joke or 'funny' story that fails to amuse you in the least, a common response would be to ask the question 'What's so funny about that?' Humour is a funny thing, get one word wrong or rush the punch-line and the joke falls flat. Both translators got caught out in translating the words 'deilbh mná', words which were crucial to get right if the incident was to be considered at all humorous. Another great asset to a translator is a good dictionary and Ó Dónaill's Foclóir Gaeilge-Béarla provides excellent definitions and a wealth of contextual examples of usage.
According to Ó Dónaill 'deilbh' can mean:
1. frame, figure; shape, appearance.
As an example of usage he gives, 'Is brea an deilbh fir atá air', he is a fine figure of a man
2. weaving: Warp
3. = Dealbh
Now what interests here is the third meaning, so off we go again in search of further clarification and meanings. 'Dealbh', in turn, means 'statue'; an example given is dealbh chinn, bhrád, bust, head
Flower renders 'deilbh mná' as 'a model of a woman', and has her 'standing on a chair' and then describes her as 'bulky as any woman of the countryside' and confirms that it is definitely a woman we are talking about here by 'correctly' rendering 'ag beannú don bhean' as 'in greeting to the woman!'
Barrister & Sowby render 'deilbh mná' as 'a statuesque woman' and have her 'on a chair'. Now comes an awkward grammatically incorrect sentence construction. The placement of 'sitting' after 'chair' implies the 'chair' and not the woman was doing the 'sitting' and also 'the counters on either side' begs the question- either side of what? But the real issue here is, that, just like Flower, they confirm that the story involves an actual person- a woman and not a statue or shop mannequin : 'She had the appearance of a countrywoman. ... the eejit took off his hat to greet the woman.'
If we translate 'deilbh mná' as 'a statue of a woman' and do not get sucked into translating 'correctly'
'ag beannú don bhean' as 'in greeting to the woman!' there is a chance we might get the humour of the author. Tomás Ó Criomhthain is a storyteller, not a writer, and in his book he does not necessarily dot every 'i' and cross every 't' in talking about his life. He assumed that it was clear that this story was about his brother-in-law saying hello to 'a statue of a woman' (deilbh mná), He did not think it was necessary to repeat 'deilbh mná' in the phrase 'ag beannú don bhean' to emphasize that point. What other 'woman' would he be talking about if not the 'deilbh mná'? But the story makes no sense and is devoid of humour if the reader is left in any doubt as to whether the author means 'a statue of a woman' or 'a woman'- an actual person.
Point 2. Figurative language only becomes meaningful, if it is recreated in the metaphors of the target language and its culture, or, if this is not possible, reduced to its sense.
drop stone-dead, writhing with laughter
There are certain collocations that we associate instinctively with laughter and if we examine these two phrases there is something decidedly odd about them. Both phrases are connected with fear and painful experiences rather than laughter. If I had to make up a sentence with 'drop stone-dead', the first one that springs to mind is:
e.g. He dropped stone-dead with fright
If set as a multiple-choice question on correct word collocation which phrase would you choose?
a)writhing with laughter
or
b)writhing with pain
The phrase in the original Irish text is 'thit fuar marbh le snaidhmeanna gáirí'
So can we follow Newmark's advice and recreate in English find a metaphor or phrase that strikes us as similar in sentiment to the original. Yes! We have the phrase 'nearly died laughing'.
And we also have 'stitches of laughter' corresponding to 'snaidhmeanna gáirí'
'Thit' is past tense of the verb 'to fall', so we could say 'fall about in stitches of laughter'
Flower ignored all of these options and created unnatural phrases that broke another rule set down by Newmark; i.e. The translator must not use a word or phrase that sounds intuitively unnatural or artificial to him.
Barrister & Sowby went for a literal word-for-word translation of 'thit fuar marbh le snaidhmeanna gáirí' with 'drop cold dead in stitches of laughter'. Once again you have 'unnatural' sounding phrases.
The Principle of Equivalent-Effect: Syntax and Grammar
I remember seeing the simple sentence 'Yes, mother, I have three' translated into seventeen Indo-European languages to show at a basic level their similarities in syntax and lexicon.
Irish was not on that list, not out of prejudice but because all of those languages belong to Subject-Verb-Object (SVO) languages whereas Irish belongs to a tiny minority of languages in the world that use the structure Verb-Subject-Object (VSO). Other reasons for not including Irish are:
'Yes' - no one-to-one corresponding word
'have'- no one-to-one corresponding verb
'three' - In Irish you have to know if 'three' refers to people or objects
'mother' - you must use 'a' before 'máthar' in the vocative case in Irish
It is obvious from this simple example that the unique characteristics of the Irish language will challenge even the best of translators. If the translator is to achieve the goal of 'equivalent-effect' s/he must not be lured into rendering slavishly the syntax, lexicon, figurative language, or punctuation used in the original Irish. If the author of the original text uses grammatically correct plain ordinary language then the translator must do likewise .
What's wrong with this sentence from Flower's translation?
Ever since the days of the great famine no speech has caused so much laughter in Dingle as that.
'Ever since'... and a negative subject, in this case 'no speech' are not usually lumped together like this in standard English.
Change a couple of words and the sentence begins to appear more like English:
Not since the days of the great famine has a speech caused so much laughter in Dingle as that.
Another odd thing is the use of the word 'speech' to translate 'carúl'.
Even if you don't know Irish, you do know that 'Good day! Mrs. Atkins' is hardly a 'speech'.
Componential analysis is an essential tool of the translator. If a mechanic were asked to take the engine parts of one car and fit them into a completely different model of car you would expect him to take into account the different dimensions and construction features of the new model. Likewise, the translator must take into account all the semantic elements of the original and reassemble them in the translation with due regard to the syntax and semantic norms of the language S/he is translating into.
The golden rule in translation is; 'always translate into your mother language'. Of course, it is essential that the translator understands the foreign text but good accurate creative translation comes more from being a master of one's own mother tongue rather than the foreign tongue.
The three example translations above deal with the same information but show marked differences in style in translating that information for an English readership.
I have used an excerpt from Barrister & Sowbys' 'The Islander' to show how the same material in the original can be translated in different ways. However, in the following section I am solely critiquing Robin Flower's translation called 'The Islandman' to determine if it is, indeed, 'bosh and bunk' or 'a masterly translation'.
'Étude' syndrome
What puzzles me is why Robin Flower, an Oxford scholar, chose to write such botched and blatantly incorrect English all the way through 'The Islandman'? To try to find an answer to that question let's look at what happens in the translation process. The minute you decide to translate something you face what I call the 'Étude' syndrome or translation exposure of the warts of the original text.
Languages in themselves can be seductive and fascinating. In the film 'A Fish Called Wanda' the character played by Jamie Lee Curtis is turned on by anything John Cleese mutters in her ear in Russian. The content didn't matter, it was the foreign 'exotic' sound of the language that proved so 'sexy' and seductive to her. But suppose our character wants to know what Cleese is saying? Now the translation process begins and the emphasis changes completely as the content assumes importance and comes under scrutiny. Translation strips the 'exotic' out of 'Étude' and reduces it to a plain boring 'Study'. However, even though I now know what 'Étude' means, it still remains more interesting and appealing than its counterpart 'Study'. I would definitely choose to call my musical composition an 'Étude' rather than a bland 'Study'.
Likewise, Flower faced the dilemma translators know all too well, namely, how do you get the 'exotic' nature of the original back into the translated text? Maybe the Oxford scholar thought he could spice up his translation by literally grafting Irish words, phrases , metaphors and syntax onto grammatically incorrect English in a vein attempt to dispel a sense of the ordinary (translating what the author had for breakfast) or even banal (translating the many references to fish market prices) in the original that is totally exposed in the translation process. Perhaps the motive for his mad grammar was to grab the attention of the reader; a bit like the greengrocer in Bristol who deliberately stuck ungrammatical signs in his window as a ploy to get people into his shop. While they were pointing out the error of his way with words, he hoped they would spot something to buy. Certainly, Flower was not happy with the 'shortcomings' of standard idiomatic English. In his foreword, he admits that, 'The constant charm of Irish idiom, which is so delightful in the original, must necessarily be lost' and adds that 'it seemed best to adopt a plain, straightforward style, aiming at the language of ordinary men who narrate the common experiences of their life frankly and without cultivated mannerism.' However, Flower's stated aims for how he would tackle the translation are at odds with the translation he actually produced.
Flower concocted an ideolect that at times ruined the flow of the narrative and severely tested the comprehension skills of the most ardent reader. It puts his sanity into question if he thought that he was rendering 'the forthright, colloquial simplicity of the original' in 'plain' English when he wrote the following gibberish:
'When once he opened his mouth, the poet had a jut on his jaw to send his voice out.' p.87
'She dressed him up and down' p.73
We rubbed through the season and the fine weather with them, p.154 p165
I must leave them now to rub along together till my story brings me back to them again. p.64
3. Do not damage or rubbing the inscription.
4. No spitting and no pissing at public. The pet is not allowed to bring in.
Equivalent-effect principle
If we rephrase the quote about 'equivalent-effect' and apply it specifically to the translation into English of 'An t-Oileánach' we could say:
Given that the author of 'An t-Oileánach' does not deviate widely from the collocational, lexical, syntactic, metrical, prosodic, semantic norms of the Irish language, one would expect that the English text would not do so either, and would not have the flavour of a translation.
The following examples taken from 'The Islandman' give a 'flavour' of just how widely Robin Flower's translation deviates from standard English usage.
for I was a man grown p.34
It wasn't in my strength to haul in the breadth of my nail or an inch of the net. p.237
When I had come home I must go out of doors again to find out if my relations were safe at home; p.227
I purposed to break in half of it that year...p.167
every night that came fine..p.166
in the upshot, p.220
full to the chin p89
I bolted it and a hunk of bread, and out of the door I went. p89 p.96
They pitched on me to go home p. 88
They were a wretched pair, not that I'm throwing it up against them
his business was to get the fine flower of the speech. p224
You could write a thesis on the grammatical errors in the following sentence:
The year after he left us fish was to be had plentifully every night they could go after them. p.225
And try following this order:
'Out with them back again,' said they.226
But maybe it is that he's sickening for something,' said I p.216
Yes, the poor reader is 'sickening' for something to make sense in this book.
'How came that? said I p.216
Objects have a mind of their own and are capable of moving about by themselves:
Soon I saw two pots for tea coming to the edge of the ashes, p.210
There wasn't an oar or a canoe in the creek to go look for us. p.185
There was one Dunquin boat that never stirred hand or foot to interfere. p.8 p.19
The morning was beginning to peer down, p178
Spot the foreigner:
a) the dark of morning till the dark of night p.172
or
b) dawn to dusk
and so it fell out, (rud a thit amach) p.65 p.72
that there was 'the three-legged woman' p. 60
a fact that would give anybody 'a stitch in the heart' p.69
'Have you got any hands since? says he.
'What the hell is it to you whether I have them or not? says the ancient mariner p.202
(hands i.e 'crew')
The women whose husbands were in her began a long, soft, musical lament...p.153
No, this is not about group sex on the Blasket island, in 'her' refers to in 'the boat'.
Have you ever been 'broad awake' and up at
'the dapple of day'? p.182
He was a tall spare man,...p.68
Just the thing for a lonely woman
This is only a small random sample of the language used by Flower to translate 'the forthright, colloquial simplicity of the original'. Every page of the 'Islandman' provides its fair share of similar nuggets of strange, weird English. There were rich pickings in 'The Islandman' for the witty Flann O'Brien and he lost no time in publishing a parody of the book called 'An Béal Bocht' translated as 'The Poor Mouth'.
Professor Seán Ó Coileáin in his preface to Barristers and Sowbys' translation of An t-Oileánach rejects Flann O'Brien's 'bosh and bunk' view, and is 'more inclined to agree with the 'far more complimentary' assessment of Flower's translation by the distinguished scholar Professor D.A. Binchy who claims : 'Dr Flower is the ideal interpreter...a masterly translation in which the sensitiveness of the poet and the accuracy of the scholar are blended in perfect harmony. (Studies, December 1934)'
Professor A. Titley also wants 'to be fair' to Dr. Flower, the Oxford scholar, and mainly comments on Flower's introduction to 'The Islandman', where Flowers sets out the method of translation he intends to follow. He concludes that as far as avoiding Hiberno-English goes, Flowers 'largely succeeds, although some echoes and turnings and stray wisps of Irish slip through the net.'
Unlike Flann O'Brien, who is not afraid to call a spade a spade, all of theses distinguished Professors seem to excel 'in charity' toward Dr. Flower's translation. But is there not a wiff of the 'emperor's new clothes' and academia closing ranks in all this uncritical 'charity'?
I am not a 'distinguished Professor', nor a scholar, but I do hold a B.A. in translation and I agree wholeheartedly with Flann O'Brien's assessment that Robin Flower's translation is 'bosh and bunk' that never should have got past a good editor. In Translation Theory classes, Robin Flower's book 'The Islandman' would make an excellent text book on how to fail as a translator.
Finally, I would like to say that although I used a small excerpt from 'The Islander' by Barrister & Sowby to compare different approaches to translation, I do not wish to imply that their translation of 'An t-Oileánach' suffers from the same faults as Robin Flower's translation. On the contrary, 'The Islander' is a very readable, accurate, and 'colloquial' translation of An t-Oileánach.
* In this case the SL (Source Language) is Irish and the TL (Target Language) is English.
* Quote from Flann O'Brien/Myles na gCopaleen/Brian O'Nolan, published in the Irish Times in his column called "Cruiskeen Lawn".
