Analysis of the English-Polish Translation of Vernon's Work: Zamek zadzior (2019).…

(Davis, 2010). Vernon achieves a balance between creating a both serious and humorous work, which thoroughly engages the reader in how a profoundly good character can influence others for the better (Alanjoli, 2013). The added rich and carefully thought-out lore of the work further makes it appealing;

it is not delivered in a heavy-handed manner, but through e.g. Digger’s anecdotes or casual character remarks that are aided by the comic medium.

It is this complexity that made Digger (2003-2011) an important first work in Vernon’s career;

not only did it demonstrate her skill as a writer and illustrator, but its also stands out as being not only the longest comic the author penned and illustrated, but also her only published webcomic. After the success of Digger (2003-2011), Vernon permanently shifted towards publishing novels and illustrated stories in print form. This was mostly due to a combination of coincidence, luck and unusual success, or as Vernon herself describes her career, “a weird progression” (Vernon, qtd. in Myman, 2021) from not having a published book to being contacted by an agent and commissioned to write her first children’s book titled Nurk: The Strange Surprising Adventures Of A (Somewhat) Brave Shrew (2008).

Yet while Vernon’s post-Digger (2003-2011) works have been translated, Digger (2003-2011) itself has not, despite two versions being published in print form: one as a series of six separate volumes, and the second as a so-called “omnibus edition” from Sofawolf Press, which combines all volumes, as well as Vernon’s additional artwork, notes and commentary that have been featured online. As such, before looking into the subsequent case study and translation analysis of Digger (2003-2011), a brief look into the translation approaches and strategies of Vernon’s works from English to Polish is in order.

her distinct humor and character creation.

As can be noted by the Polish translation dates (2018 to 2020), interest in Vernon’s work has been very recent; so far, only her newest works have been translated. The appeal of Vernon’s children’s fantasy works is not surprising. The fantasy genre alone has had a fairly short but complex history in Poland, and has been met since the 1960’s with significant interest (Guttfeld, 2012, pp. 22-25), with a publishing boom post-1989 due to political and economic changes (Guttfeld, 2012, pp. 32-33). Here it is important to mention that most fantasy works in Poland are translations from English; Guttfeld (2012; 2018) cites statistics that indeed illustrate how fantasy on the Polish market are translations (pp.

33-35; pp. 153-154). This is due to a number of factors, one of the main ones being a cultural imbalance wherein a literary shortfall- in this case in Polish fantasy- was filled through the import of Western fantasy norms and standards (Guttfeld, 2012, p. 20). This gap was largely bridged through translation, where Polish translations of English fantasy works took a central role; based on Even-Zohar’s polysystem theory, Guttfeld (2012) points out three reasons as to why this took place (p. 20):

• The relatively young nature of the genre in Polish literature, which looks for foreign influence to aid in its development,

• The peripheral nature of the fantasy genre favored the import rather than the export of ideas, forms, sub-genres and tropes

• The occurrence of a political and cultural “crisis” triggering a “literary vacuum” that needed to be filled

All three reasons are reminiscent of Even-Zohar’s (1990) social factors that impact translation norms (p. 47): a young literature, peripheral characteristic and the existence of a crisis, which Even-Zohar (1990) singles out as a reason for a foreignizing translation approach to occur, one where: “the translation will be close to the original in terms of adequacy (in other words, a reproduction of the dominant textual relations of the original)” (p. 50).

This is something that Guttfeld (2012) recognizes as happening in Polish fantasy literature, noting that even the genre terms, “fantasy” and “science-fiction” have been borrowed from the English language (pp. 24-25). She ultimately concludes that: “In such social-historical context and with the presented (. . .) symptoms, it seems to be clear that translations from the English language within the system of Polish fantasy take a position that is described by Even-Zohar as <central>” (Guttfeld, 2012, p. 41, translation by thesis author). This in turn leads to a translational approach that is focused on both functional equivalence and foreignizing strategies, one that again can be still well-observed in the fantasy genre in Poland; translators and their translations of fantasy continue to have a central role and significant influence in the development of the genre within Poland, with the newly added influence of

popular culture, media, and the digital realm (Guttfeld, 2018, pp. 145-147). Taking into account this tendency, it is little wonder that Vernon’s Castle Hangnail (2015) was translated in a way that relies on both domesticating and foreignizing strategies, the latter of which has been recently common in both fantasy (Guttfeld, 2012, p. 79; pp. 98-99) and children’s literature (Biały, 2012, p. 112). For convenience, passages from the original work have been cited in-text under Vernon’s name, while passages taken from the translated book have been cited in-text under the translator’s name, Barbara Łukomska.

The semi-domesticating and functionally equivalent translation approach to Castle Hangnail (2015) can already be noticed from the translation title- “Zamek zadzior” (2019). A hangnail is a torn piece of skin near the nail, but “zadzior” means “splinter”, or in more general terms, something small and sharp that sticks out from beneath a surface (PWN, “zadzior”). Łukomska’s decision to translate the title becomes apparent when one realizes that “zadzior” has connotations with “nail”, so for example having a splinter beneath ones nail. In this way Zamek zadzior (2019) becomes a highly appropriate choice for a title translation, with an additional alliterative function that attracts the child reader. Michał Borodo (2006) points out that since the 1990’s, children’s literature translation studies (CLTS) has focused on the child reader and their interaction with the work, rather than the issue of formal equivalence and the status of the text within children’s literature (pp. 15-16). This dominating approach clashes in an interesting way with the usual Polish translational norms relating to fantasy genre that primarily favor formal equivalence, e.g. the inclusion of borrowings and loan words, or utilizing non-translation or exonyms with morphological adaptation to the target language where appropriate. Translation strategies that emphasize literalness are perceived as more “natural” when it comes to the fantasy genre, as it aids in creating the illusion of an unreal fantasy world (Guttfeld, 2012, p. 79).

Łukomska recognizes the importance of adapting proper names and fantasy terms into the target language so as to make them understandable to both young and old readers alike- children’s literature frequently has multi-aged recipients (Oittinen, 2006, p. 35). Nord (2003) describes the importance of proper names and their function, reference scope, as well as literary conventions that have to be taken into consideration upon translation, as well as the strategies the translator can undertake when deciding whether to translate, transcribe or transfer a proper name (pp. 182-184). She (2003) aptly summarizes that in the end: “wherever the function of the proper name is limited to identifying an individual referent, the main criterion for translation will be to make this identifying function work for the target audience”, although this too is easier said than done (pp. 184-185). Regardless, Łukomska seems to follow this notion both for proper names and specific nous, as she translates for instance such fantasy

terms like “wizard”, “witch”, “familiar” (as a noun-a creature accompanying wizards and witches),

“dragon” and “Board of Magic” are translated as “czarnoksiężnik”, “czarownica”, “chowaniec”,

“smok” and “Zarząd Magii”.

Fantastical terminology is highly familiar to contemporary readers, especially following the popularity of such authors like J.K. Rowling, J.J.R. Tolkien, Ursula K. Le Guin, so a descriptive translation would not be needed- it is safe to assume readers are familiar with such terms. Proper names that can be recognized as anglophonic have undergone transference, an often used translation technique which relies on little to no changes between lexical units in the ST and TT (Majcher, 2017, p. 135).

This can be seen with such names as Edward von Hallenbrock, Molly, Harry Rumplethorn, Freddy Wisteria and Eudaimonia; the only difference reveals itself in inflection and occasionally orthography due to the nature of the Polish language, e.g. “Eudaimonia” – “Eudajmonia”, which in this case would be an instance of transliteration. However, some proper names that carry associations with certain traits have been translated quite literally, such as “Cursed Beastlord” “książę zaklęty w bestię”, “Wretch”

-“Łachmyta”, “Pins”- “Szpiluś” or “Bugbane” - “Ćmozjadek”, likewise a common translation strategy (Majcher, 2017, p. 136). While such strategies “may interfere with the function of a cultural marker”

(Nord, 2003, p. 185), here the translation strategy causes no such interference, as the aforementioned terms belong to a fictional setting, ergo a fictional culture.

An amusing example can be observed with the name Majordomo, which aside from being a proper name given to the castle guardian, is an allusion to that character’s role in the story as the head steward of the haunted building. Since in Polish the form is very similar - “Majordomus”- along with the military title “Major”, an observation made by Edward stating that the name sounds like a military title (“Major Domo”) makes sense in Polish as well: “Major Domus! Brzmi prawie jak tytuł wojskowy”

(Łukomska, 2019, p. 22). A Polish reader would simply pronounce the name differently, but the name and term itself does not lose its associative function. This is similar to the magical water vapor

“Serenissima” who is half-mermaid- a Polish reader will recognize the similarity to the Polish word

“syrena”, something that would be ironically lost on an English reader. Vernon often draws inspiration from Slavic mythology (an example of which is her Summer in Orcus published in 2016 that references the Baba Yaga legend), hence the etymology of some of the proper names featured in her works is self-explanatory. In the case of Majordomo and Serenissima, no modification had to be made in Polish, aside from morphological adjustments arising from inflection.

However, it is interesting that Łukomska in some cases does not adhere to the naming conventions Venon adapts in the book. Ordinary titles such as “Cook” or “Witch” or “Hag” are written with big letters, but Łukomska renders these terms without capitalization. Interestingly, the word

“minion”, which is mostly featured in the book without capitalization except for instances where the word is part of a proper name or title, e.g. “Minion of the Year” (Vernon, 2015, p. 9), is always capitalized in Polish as “Sługus”. This may be a case of compensation on the translator’s part, as Łukomska does not capitalize other chosen words. In her works, Vernon consistently capitalizes nouns for two main creative reasons: to indicate a proper name coinciding with ones occupation (e.g. “Cook”-a l“Cook”-arge minot“Cook”-aur who is “Cook”-also the c“Cook”-astle cook) or “Cook”-a cert“Cook”-ain m“Cook”-agic“Cook”-al “n“Cook”-ation“Cook”-ality”, such “Cook”-as with “Witch” or

“Hag”. Furthermore, adjectives preceding the names are also capitalized, such as “Wicked Witch” and

“Loathsome Hag”, a punctuation device which Vernon’s frequently uses as a way of drawing attention to certain character archetypes and magical groups or nationalities, as well as distinct witch-like actions e.g. “the Smiting of Old Man Harrow” (Vernon, 2015, p. 54) or “Blighting the Brussels” (Vernon, 2015, p. 54). However, the adjectives are also not reflected in the Polish translation, where one reads e.g. “nikczemna czarownica” or “rzuczanie klątwy na starego pana Harrowa”. It is also important to note that “Cook” is rendered into Polish as “kucharka”- not only is there a lack of capitalization, but also gender neutrality.

It is possible Łukomska opted for this strategy in order to eliminate any confusion for the reader, as the use of “Kucharz” followed by the use of the feminine Polish pronoun “ona” when referring to the Cook might come off as strange. There is also the known Polish literary device of using diminutives to words in children’s literature, and one that is common in Polish translations as well (Biały, 2016, p. 273; Berezowski, 1997, p. 90; Adamczyk-Garbowska, 1988, pp. 113–115).

Diminutives make up an important part of the Polish language, which is why they are often added to e.g. proper nouns: “diminutives constitute such a strong element of cultural code inscribed in Polish, that the departure from their usage would seriously infringe Polish cultural code and linguistic convention” (Nilsson, 2012, pp. 145-146). It is therefore expected for diminutives to be used in Polish translation, as Łukomska does.

Indeed, Łukomska displays a variety of solutions and does not adhere to one strategy for every proper noun, something Nord (2003) points out is a valid and frequent technique in CLTS (p. 183). For example, magical characters are adapted in a variety of ways:

• Witch – czarownica (e.g. Łukomska, 2019, p. 15),

• Hag- strzyga (e.g. Łukomska, 2019, p. 8)

• Sorceress – wróżka (e.g. Łukomska, 2019, p. 8), wiedźma (e.g. Łukomska, 2019, p. 16)

• Wizard- czarnoksiężnik (e.g. Łukomska, 2019, p. 10)

Łukomska most likely opted for “czarownica” instead of “wiedźma” as the translation for “witch” as the term has more positive connotations in the Polish language. This may also explain why “sorceress”

is sometimes translated as wiedźma, which in the book has negative connotations, e.g.:

• “And that’s why I’m a Wicked Witch, and not an Evil Sorceress. Evil is bad. Wicked is just a little bad” (Vernon, 2015, p. 15)

• “Does she not look like an Evil Sorceress?” (Vernon, 2015, p. 19)

Łukomska translates the term “evil sorceress” as “złowróżbna wróżka” (e.g. Łukomska, 2019, p.10), likely aiming for alliteration to add a humorous, whimsical twist. It is however curious as to why in some cases the term is translated as “wiedźma”- it is plausible that the translator here wanted to keep a negative connotation, similarly as with the adapting of “hag” into “strzyga”. A “hag” is an evil old woman that usually practices witchcraft (Merriam-Webster, “hag”); in Polish the term is often translated as “czarownica”, “wiedźma” or “jędza” (Translatica, “hag”). However, since Łukomska had already used both “czarownica” and “wiedźma” for other terms, she adapts “hag” into “strzyga”, alluding to a blood-sucking, female demon from Slavic folklore. The adaptation of these terms may be inconsistent, but it ultimately succeeds in keeping a clear classification of magical peoples within the book.

On the other hand, Łukomska manages well when it comes to translation challenges associated with humor and word play, which is oftentimes particularly difficult in children’s literature (Biały, 2012, p. 108) due to the need to not only adapt the source text to the target reader, but also often due to a lack of paratext surrounding such literature. Łukomska’s skill is demonstrated by these short excerpts in table 2.

Table 2

Castle Hangnail English-Polish Translation Excerpt

English Polish

“Does anybody know who needs to be Smited?”

(. . .)

“Smitted?” asked Majordomo

“Smitten?”

“I thought it was Smote,” said Angus. (. . .)

“Someone who deserves Smiting,” said Molly firmly, (. . .) (Vernon, 2015, p. 77)

- Czy znacie kogoś, kto zasługuje na wyklęcie?

(. . .)

- Wyklęcie?- zdziwił się Majordomus - Zaklęcie?

- Ja zawsze sądziłem, że się mówi przeklęcie-wtrącił się Angus. (. . .)

- Kogoś, kto zasługuje na klątwę-powiedziała Molly stanowczo. (Łukomska, 2019, p. 92)

Łukomska uses a source-oriented, but domesticating approach in order to translate humor, e.g. she translates Cook’s reserved manner of speaking that is defined by the use of infinitives and gerund, e.g.:

• “Ja nie lubić litery H. Litera H nie mieć wstępu do tego domu. Nie gotować w tej kuchni homarów, jasne?” (Łukomska, 2019, p. 31).

• “Not being fond of letter Q. Not allowing Qs in this house. Not be making quiche in this kitchen, understand?” (Vernon, 2015, p. 14).

Adaptation can also be observed here- the letter Q does not exist in the Polish alphabet, and once again Łukomska adapts a domesticating approach in order for the target text to have the same purpose, and consequently the same reception as the source text, therefore implicitly applying skopos theory to her work.

This strategy can also be observed in the case of food translation, which is well known for being highly culture-specific; for instance, e.g. “meat pies oozing with gravy” (Vernon, 2015, p. 13) is translated as “mięso zapiekane w cieście” (Łukomska, 2019, p. 30). It is here we can also observe a type of neutralization, wherein the translated fragment is devoid of any cultural associations, be it with the source or target culture: “neutralizations [neutr.] are cases where a culture-specific name is rendered by a culture-unspecific or “transcultural” reference” (Nord, 2003, p. 194). This is combined with omission, most likely because gravy isn’t common as a sauce in Poland. A similar translation strategy is seen when “a Scottish Haggischarmer” (Vernon, 2015, p. 218), a Scottish folklore creature deriving from the famous haggis dish, is adapted as “czarownik z Loch Ness” (Łukomska, 2019, p. 233). All that is left is a reference to Scotland through the more familiar to Polish target readers Loch Ness. While not entirely a neutralization, it is a complete change, something not uncommon in CLTS (Biały, 2012, p.

109). In fact, such a strategy could be said to be “positive manipulation”, which as defined by André Lefevere (1992) is “the aim to create translations that serve their purposes as well as possible” (qtd. in Oittinen, 2006, p. 40). Indeed, such strategy follows naturally from the dilemma children’s literature translators often face when it comes to culture-specific items: “The most crucial issue that concerns the translator of children’s literature is the inevitable limitation on the young reader’s world knowledge ( . . .) translators are permanently faced with the problem of how to treat the cultural aspects present in a source text” (Biały, 2012, p. 105). Often, the solution is a certain form of adaptation. Furthermore, the Polish language, which considerably differs from English, must often account for significant differences in structure and culture, which results in many cases of domestication, something that Majcher (2017) observes in her analysis of Prince Caspian (p. 146). The aforementioned strategies are applied to also help ensure the target text is easy to read; literature meant for children is especially geared towards being read out loud (Oittinen, 2006, p. 35)- therefore, a translation that flows naturally

is a desirable one.

Thankfully, neutralization is rarely used along with omission, the latter of which tends to be often used in Polish translation of children’s literature in order to accommodate target culture norms and systems (Szymańska, 2020, p. 172). In fact here omission benefits the translation, for instance by eliminating redundancy, as is demonstrated by the fragment below:

• It’s from the word djinn that we get genie, but you couldn’t have put Serenissima in a bottle.

(Vernon, 2015, p. 20)

• W przeciwieństwie do dżina Serenissimy nie można było umieścić w butelce, (. . .) (Łukomska, 2019, p. 38)

Unlike in English, the Polish word “dżin” very clearly originates from “djinn”- it is even spelled and pronounced in a similar way. Apart from specific instances, Łukomska tries to preserve as much of the source text as possible, but not to the extent that it would interfere with an unobstructed reading devoid of additional paratext or footnotes, a practice that is not usually employed in children’s literature (Biały, 2012, p. 111; Nord, 2003, p. 195). The etymology of the word is omitted as well. As Nord (2003) explains when describing paratext in children’s literature: “to my view, the decision for, or against, annotations must be guided by addressee-orientation (. . .). For children, one text will probably be sufficient” (p. 195). And so e.g. spells written in Latin (Łukomska, 2019, p. 96; p. 162) are kept without additional footnotes. Unusual punctuation strategies such as the capitalization of common nouns is not explained, but naturally included in the text.

It can be seen that Łukomska’s strategy is as accommodating as it can be to a contemporary reader of children’s literature. While there is an inherent perception in translation that foreignization is good and domestication is bad, which stems largely from Venuti’s strong distinction between the two (Oittinen, 2006, p. 43), the latter approach is need in literature for younger audiences, and if one would want to extend the term, in any translation. Reader enjoyment and approachability without sacrificing foreignness is a contemporary trend in translation strategies, although as Michael Borodo (2017b) points out, this is becoming more and more connected to the overwhelming globalization of children’s media and want for profit (p. 62), which often takes on the dual form of glocalization (Borodo, 2017b, pp. 1-2, p. 24), that is the overlapping and intertwining of the global and local (p. 22).

Naturally by definition, glocalizing often contains domesticating strategies, as can be seen by Borodo’s (2017b) description of a glocal text: “the glocal text is not merely a global text made available locally, but a hybrid text partly anchored in the cultural milieu of the local culture” (p. 24). In fact, Borodo (2017b) points out that sometimes a glocalized text contains a great amount of “local traces of a particular culture” (p. 24). Zamek zadzior (2019) can be considered a glocal text with how it places its

focus on dynamic equivalence, domestication, and with how it situates itself unmistakably as a translation within the foreign fantasy context. Oittinen (2006) also points out that domestication can occur in a variety of ways and degrees, some of which constitute a natural progression of a translation approach focusing on the recipient (p. 43). In a digital age where the fight for the reader’s attention is becoming more and more vehement, a translator cannot afford to ignore the purpose of the text, nor the needs of a reader. It is here that skopos theory comes into play, as while this translation approach is considered vague and not as empirically productive as others (Chesterman, 2017, p. 70), it provides a valuable perspective on the purpose of a given work. It also serves its purpose as a general, functional theory of translation that provides a sound framework for further translation analysis.

This brief overview of Zamek zadzior (2019) as a translated work provides insight as to how to approach Vernon’s webcomic, Digger (2003-2011), due to its similarity in tone, punctuation, authorial style and characterization. The overview sheds light on possible translational problems, which according to Nord (1997a) are objective problems that can occur in many different kinds of texts, and which the translator will always be challenged by (p. 64). The aforementioned overview also mentions translation difficulties, which are subjective issues linked to a translator’s knowledge or competence (Nord, 1997a, p. 64)- these can also be used as a point of comparison to Vernon’s webcomic. This mostly due to the fact that both Castle Hangnail (2015) and Digger (2003-2011) belong to the fantasy genre; each contain their own sub-canon with unique terms, names and plot devices that while different, are distinct to Vernon’s authorial style. It is interesting here to note that Digger (2003-2011) was recognized as adult literature, which was indicated by the printed volumes winning the Mythopoeic Award in 2013 within the adult literature category. This is in contrast to Castle Hangnail (2015), which was also granted the same award but within the category of children’s literature in 2016. Regardless of target reader differences, Zamek zadzior (2019) will be used as a point of analytic comparison to Digger’s (2003-2011) Polish translation; the solutions employed in the translation of Zamek zadzior (2019) provide a useful contrast, especially when dealing with elements connected to the fantasy genre.

This decision is also motivated by the low number of Vernon’s works translated into Polish- at the time of writing this thesis Zamek zadzior (2019) is the most apt translation that can be used as a point of reference. While CLTS won’t be as applicable to Digger (2003-2011) as it is to Castle Hangnail (2015), some solutions and observations made by academics can be valuable in translating and analyzing given translation problems, and will be included where appropriate.