Chapter Three: Case Studies; Digger (2003-2011) and These Memories Won’t
Last (2015)
webcomics). As can be deduced, enhanced webcomics are ones that involve computational processes akin to video game translation (VGT), where there is as much talk of translation as creating a localization. Miguel Á. Bernal-Merino (2015) in his book on VGT discusses how linguistic translation has become only a part of the costly customization of a video game title, with numerous technical, linguistic and cultural aspects to consider before international release (p. 102). However, unlike enhanced webcomics, the video game industry is driven by profitability, appealing to mass markets and of course creating engaging gameplay centered around eye-catching design and technical achievement (Bernal-Merino, 2015, p. 103). Still, VGT is relatable to webcomics in terms of how the field approaches translation; namely, that localization is a vital part of the process. A language version must be created that involves taking into consideration computational processes and technological issues.
This is in contrast to producing a translation based on e.g. script and then inputting it into the work, without consideration for any paralinguistic factors. Furthermore, while webcomics are by definition not originally meant as an avenue for profit- their success being defined differently (Kleefeld, 2020, pp.
203-209)- when translation factors in, monetary gain comes into the equation, as will be seen in subsequent paragraphs.
Simply put, any online comic involving browser additions, infinite canvas arrangements, software enhancements and even gameplay will lean towards localization, and linguistic translation will constitute only a part of the process. Examples of these could be Daniel Merlin Goodbrey’s hypercomics relying on gameplay like Icarus Needs (2013) and The Empty Kingdom (2014) or Andrew Hussie’s MS Paint Adventures (2007-2018). It is for this reason that in recent years, enhanced, elaborate webcomics with their own websites and dedicated reader base have become a rare occurrence; usually they are done as one-off, experimental works, such as in Stuart Campbell’s webcomics. This is in part because a print version of such comics could not be published due to the reliance on online affordances; print versions of webcomics are often an important source of revenue for the author, and are often named, along with merchandising, as an important way of earning money (Grefe, 2018; Webcomic friends, 2018). Furthermore, enhanced webcomics are rarely long-form, thus not guaranteeing continuity even in the merchandising aspect. While webcomics are known to be independent works whose main goal is not to achieve economic success, creators have rightfully pursued monetary compensation in some manner or form since the first conception of the form (Kleefeld, 2020, pp. 28-32).
Any long-form titles have either established themselves during the heyday of non-enhanced epistolary webcomics in the pre-2010 period, such as Lackadaisy (2006-current) by Tracy J. Butler or Unsounded (2010-current) by Ashley Cope, or have appeared and gained popularity on a case-by-case
basis. For instance, Kleefeld (2020) notes the ongoing popularity of Minna Sundberg’s Stand Still, Stay Silent (2013-2022) a fantasy webcomic that centers around Norse mythology. The aforementioned titles are featured on personalized websites, a practice that is becoming increasingly rare as webcomics shift towards social media publishing. There are numerous reasons for this, one of which is ease of sharing;
Kleefeld (2020) draws attention to the variety of platforms and subsequent benefits of comic-strip like comics, as: “social media sites organize and display shared image files differently from one another (. . .) if users only have to post a single image file, with no concern about reading order or organization, they are more likely to share an image in the first place” (p. 44). This claim is supported by the way most Internet users interact online. Brady Dale (2015a) in his article on the changing Internet environment and its relation to webcomics cites numerous webcomic authors that come to similar conclusions: namely that for many users, particular websites aren’t the Internet for them, but social media and dedicated apps are. As Ryan North (qtd. in Dale, 2015a) of Dinosaur Comics (2003-current) points out: “Traffic has gone down (. . .) over the last few years, but that’s with me only tracking website hits. There’s lots of ways to read webcomics now.” Aside from personalized websites dedicated to a given webcomic title, there are also websites that host numerous publications. One example is the newly created in 2021 Polish website Webkomiksy (webkomiksy.pl), which allows for free publication and reading of titles in Polish or/and by Polish authors; however, while authors retain their rights to the work, they are not paid in any way. A similar English website is The Duck Webcomics, which heralds back to the early 2000s in its design, but still actively hosts titles.
As mentioned before, one of the most popular ways of reading online comics is through mobile applications. While mobile comics constitute a separate category in this thesis’ taxonomy, they’re often in fact described as webcomics (Stavole-Carter, 2019; Jang & Song, 2017, p. 174), and they sometimes may feature enhanced characteristics such as sound and video effects, background music, animation (Jang & Song, 2017, p. 177). Mobile comics hosted on apps have become especially popular due to the increase of smartphone use (Brown, 2015; Kleefeld, 2020), which directly offer the ability to utilize the concept of the infinite canvas with vertical scrolling. This has been utilized on a wider scale fairly recently, as beforehand, reading webcomics on touch-screen based hardware would usually amount to
“constantly pinching and zooming” due to incompatible page formatting which wasn’t “quite conducive to an enjoyable reading experience” (Brown, 2015). However, with a renewed understanding that online and digital comics would have to be readable, easily accessible and compatible on smartphones, dedicated platforms began appearing (Brown, 2015). Amongst recent popular mobile comic hosting platforms (which can also be accessed from a PC browser) that have appeared over the past two decades are the aforementioned Webtoon, Tapas (currently a US based subsidiary of Korean
company Kakao Daum’s Webtoon), Hiveworks Comics and Stela (Stavole-Carter, 2019; Liang, 2021, p. 17). The Stela app is said to have been created “to focus on the vertical reading experience” (Brown, 2015), while Tapas (formerly known as Tapastic) grew from a start-up to a massive online publishing house due to its targeted focus on providing not just webcomics and novels, but also genre fiction optimized for a mobile phone format (Salkowitz, 2018; Salkowitz 2021).59
The increasing popularity of mobile comics is something that Liang (2021) states is reflective of the rise in streaming services, along with a gradual shift towards short-term storytelling that the form often provides (pp. 16-17). Furthermore, it is important to mention the influence of the recent pandemic on online distribution, which Liang (2021) mentions in connection with online comics: “when considering the ways COVID-19 has changed how readers consume content, publishers pointed to the increasing acceptance of ebooks” (p. 18). Publishers cite “tremendous growth in the format” (Liang, 2021, p. 18; Salkowitz, 2021), and expect a growing readership, and with it-a need for translations.
The call for mobile comic translation has been answered; this is through the crowdsourcing/MOT model and through official means as well. This is especially visible through webtoons. Popular webtoons have obtained official translations, sometimes even in print e.g. Solo Leveling (2018-2021) by Chugong (Liang, 2021, p. 18). Localized websites exist as well: for instance, there has been a growing interest in webtoons in France, which influenced the creation of Delitoon, a portal that hosts both original French comics in the webtoon form and French official translation of popular webtoons. Currently, the webtoon market is enormous, with “portal sites compet[ing] against each other to secure traffic and to invite webtoon fans in order to increase the number of portal users”
(Jang & Song, 2017, p. 175). As of 2019 the webtoon market has been valued at over half a billion dollars (Jang-Won, 2020), in large part due to the steadily growing number of international readers.
It comes then as no surprise that mobile comics, particularly webtoons, have become so successful. Translation of online webcomics is largely based on interest, as the translators of Moss (2010), a mystery webtoon with political undertones by Yoon Tae-Ho, state (Fulton, J. & Fulton, B., qtd. in Lynn, 2016). Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton, who are acclaimed translators of Korean literature, were key figures in popularizing the author with their successful translation. Their understanding of not only the comic medium, but also the characteristics of Korean webtoons and online publishing challenges ensured a high quality translation (Fulton, J. & Fulton, B., qtd. in Lynn, 2016). Interestingly, they detail a variety of challenges from translating dialogue coherently to onomatopoeia, and even adapting visual cues present in the webtoon:
59 It is worth mentioning here that the difficulty of categorizing what a webcomic is and what a mobile comic is on the basis of these platforms is due to the fact that a title can be read both on the app and on a PC screen. However, anyone who visits these apps quickly realizes that due to the infinite canvas setting, a smartphone offers a far easier reading experience.
Many of the images are unaccompanied by dialog, and of course there’s the subtext that readers must grasp through the images alone. Our challenge was to convey the meaning to an audience that is not necessarily used to reading between the lines when they encounter a work of foreign literature. How much “dumbing down” should we be doing? This was a constant question. So we attempted to add cues that would help readers better understand the basic story line, as well as the cultural subtext (Fulton, J. & Fulton, B., qtd. in Lynn, 2016).
An acute awareness of the comic medium and understanding of how online translation works is vital to a proper webcomic translation. In fact, the Fultons note that translating with physical copies is significantly easier than translating on an online version, which due to its dynamic nature, can undergo sudden changes unlike a print copy, but can also be notoriously difficult to alter once published (Fulton, J. & Fulton, B., qtd. in Lynn, 2016). It is here that one can notice the great benefits of having professionals work on webcomics.
It would therefore seem that webcomics have the potential to be officially and professionally translated. What primarily matters is the popularity of a work and potential target readership. Trends and tendencies play a vital role in deciding on translation, regardless if it is in an official or unofficial capacity, along with decisive economic and globalizing factors, as Cronin (2003) points out in regards to modern economy standards (pp. 11-12). Potential earnings are important, and modern translation relies on not only appealing to a specific readership, but also a mass one, a presiding dichotomy in translation that Cronin (2003) defines within Manuel Castells concept of the Net and the Self:
“Translation partakes both of the Self and of the Net. It is linked both to abstract, universal instrumentalism and to specific, rooted identities” (p. 13). The Net here is understood as “a worldwide, electronically mediated environment that underpins the operations of the new global economy” (Cronin 2003, p. 13), while the Self is connected to specific cultures and customs. A translation is to viably appeal to both sides in order for profit to be made. Because of this, economic factors must be accounted for: “Translation consists, like any other form of work, of a system of interested transactions. These determine what gets translated, by whom, and for which publication.” (Stenberg, 2015, p. 2). On the basis of webtoon translation, this demand can be met; while webtoons are featured on international platforms, their format and culture-specificity is preserved through individual translations. However, translating any kind of webcomic demands an understanding of not just the work, but also of how specific contexts and targeted software factors into language groups, countries and cultures on both a domestic and global scale: “The attempt to replicate domestic success for a wider, international readership requires not only appealing interface design, but also accurate, nuanced, and contextualized translations (. . .) such skilled translations remain rare even among human translators.” (Lynn, 2016).
Consequently, one can observe a rising need for such professionals who can not only provide a good translation, but also single out noteworthy titles.
Realistically speaking, it is not possible for professionals to work on a great number of webcomic titles, be it due to a lack of interest, monetary or copyright issues, and a general lack of will to professionally publish. It is for this reason that many titles obtain unofficial fan translations, as was pointed out in the earlier parts of this thesis. Fan translation has become more recognized academically over the past years, and there has been a growing fascination with the practice along with its rise in the wake of the Web 2.0. As Dwyer (2012a) summarizes about the practice of fansubbing: “Within TS, fansubbing has recently garnered considerable scholarly attention and been hailed for its
<evolutionary> approach, <abusive> break with industry conventions, and innovative use of new technologies and multimodality (p. 197). Indeed, the practice is a fascinating one, spurred on for different reasons. Fan translation is often, but not always, rooted in a fondness for a given work, which then acts as a motivating force spurring non-professional translators into action. Such translations are also dubbed as “user-generated translation” or “community translation” (O’Hagan 2009; 2011).
Connected to fan translation are the previously mentioned terms “crowdsourced translation” and
“online collaborative translation” wherein experienced translators and amateurs alike can pool together their efforts to translate mostly online/digital content (Kelly et al. 2011, p. 77), as meticulously researched in Jimenez-Crespo’s (2017) book on the overwhelming phenomenon- “The potential to engage millions of volunteer users [for crowdsourced translation] is staggering” (p. 2).
However, there is also a term with a more negative connotation- “guerrilla translation” (Dwyer 2012a, pp. 196-198), which directly references the media piracy connected to some of these practices.
The illegality of fan translation is often apparent, as it has a significant impact on officialy translated media, as evidenced by current piracy issues stemming from illegal webtoon publishing and translation (Jang-Won, 2020). Regardless of motivation, such translators can be classified as “prosumers”, that is people who actively engage in transforming a given product they consume- in this case, by translating it and adjusting it to a wanted target language version (Cronin, 2013, p. 100; O’Hagan 2009, p. 97).
This phenomenon has considerably gained traction since the appearance of the Internet, and especially Web 2.0. (Ding et. al., 2021, p. 173), as translation has become a basic action, “an everyday online activity” (O’Hagan, 2017). Some online comic publishers have in fact capitalized on this, as evidenced by Naver Webtoon’s dedicated fan translation section where after registering, fans can translate copyright-approved titles into select target languages. Legalized fan translation avenues are a way of capitalizing on a generation of bilingual or foreign-language speaking “prosumers” who possess so-called “genre-expertise” (O’Hagan, 2008, pp. 178-179) or “topic knowledge” (Garcia, 2015, p. 19).
The term denotes a certain knowledge of certain cultural protocols, appearances and lingo connected to given genres. It is often that such fan translators have an edge over professionals, who often betray their lack of genre expertise (O’Hagan, 2008, p. 178) in their translations; hence, the heightened role of genre knowledge as outlined by O’Hagan (2008) and other scholars such as Dwyer (2012b) and Ortabasi (2007). Furthermore, sanctioned fan translation minimizes illegal media piracy and unlawful circulations of translations and media. However, while this can be an asset, one must also take into consideration the downsides of such practices, such as outsourcing translation work to non-professionals, a lack of consideration for the trade, and indirect cheapening of the work. Jiménez-Crespo (2017) recognizes that such problems can arise, and proposes his own model for ensuring quality (pp. 124-136).
Despite these obvious setbacks, it comes as no surprise that more and more fan translations/
user-generated webcomic translations are being lauded as high quality. For instance, Sung-Eun Cho and Won-Suk Cho (2016) discuss the impressive and quality translation efforts of a popular webtoon titled Tower of God (2010-current) by a dedicated fan group whose sole focus not only centers around the source material, but also on translating additional material, sharing opinions on the webtoon and interacting with the fan community (pp. 248-250). With fan translation becoming a staple of translation studies and practices, it has started to emerge as a new kind of professionalism, especially in the translation of multimedia that can be easily featured within the Web 2.0. landscape, such as webcomics.
Community translation efforts, be they crowdsourced or fan translated, are one way of responding to a demand that otherwise cannot be met due to a lack of translators (Flanagan 2016, p.
149; Garcia 2015, p. 19) and dynamic translation processes. One must mention the Translate-Edit-Publish (TEP) process, which Jiménez-Crespo (2017) deems dynamic and responsive in the online localization of e.g. websites (pp. 62-64; p. 80); he gives examples of successful audiovisual translation and platform translation, noting that in many cases, the participants crowdsourced translations or/and online collaborative translations managed to create a work flow that relied on a multistep process involving a number of roles. This in turn ensured a decent quality standard. However, on a more elaborate level, the TEP process can be comparably slow and costly, especially if it involves contracting a separate language service provider (LSP) to manage the crowdsourced/collaborative translation efforts (Kelly et al. 2011, pp. 75-77). This may contribute to information displacement, where people in the final stages of the TEP process know less than the ones at the beginning stages. Still, the TEP process has been already applied in comic translation, notably in fan scanlation, where each person is assigned a role ranging from translation, proofreading, typesetting, quality control to scan cleaning and publishing (Manovich et al., 2011; Porras & Cassany, 2015; Fabretti, 2017). Webcomics can also
certainly benefit from this model.
There is therefore potential for a wider move to translate webcomics; this is not only due to the growing tolerance for non-print literary works and an overarching interest in online works but also the increase of global digital systems and participatory culture (Liang, 2021, p. 16). Yet while such webcomic forms like webtoons are fairly uniform, specialized titles prove a greater challenge, especially if they volatile to changing technology. It is for this reason that dedicated translation teams are needed for online works. A perfect example is the aforementioned Polish translation of Joyce’s afternoon, a story (1990/1999), which while not a webcomic but a work of e-literature, demonstrates that the more tightly knit and smaller the team is when translating and publishing a work relying on computational processes, the better the effects are.
The aforementioned process is reminiscent of the TEP process, where there are multiple participants with designated roles that are to complete each step. The only difference here is that the number of participants is smaller, and the steps overlaps with each other. However even despite this, one cannot be sure that the translation outcome may be satisfactory, let alone positively received. As Mateusz Pisarski (2015) describes in his article on the arduous and lengthy translation process of Michael Joyce’s work, any kind of electronic works face hurdles upon translation that intensify with the passage of time due to the ever-shifting technological environment (p. 12). Similar challenges appeared when transferring the Polish localization of Twilight, a Symphony (1996) into a modern online environment (Pisarski, 2020). Translating an electronic work requires at the very least a base knowledge of how digital and online platforms work, and the characteristics of the source work in question. In the case of webcomics, I will remind that Kleefeld (2020) distinguishes two main criteria when it comes to webcomics; the authorial intent to publish and design a work to be read online, as well as software and reader viewership-that is the presence of specific online applications/platforms and target readers (pp. 2-3). Similar criteria can be applied to any work created in a digital/online environment, and the awareness of these criteria is a prerequisite to a coherent translation.
To take a more metaphorical approach, a successful translation of an online work is one that traces and tracks the echoes of a work within the digital sphere, something Arnaud Regnauld (2013) describes in the context of translating e-literature (par. 5). Much like any other creative work, webcomics have a rhythm inherent to them. Naturally, the more complex a webcomic, the more demanding it can be from the point of view of translation, just as any creative literary work. Taking into account the conclusions drawn in the sub-chapters dedicated to technology in this thesis along with previously mentioned examples, one can see that the most commonly translated webcomics/online comics are those of non-enhanced nature which follow a predictable formula, and are preferably hosted
on one website or application which allows for ease of access. After all, webtoon portals are designed with this in mind, as: “a hub-spoke model that reduces costs for production, distribution, scouting new talent, and diversification of contents” (Jang & Song, 2017, p. 175). These are e.g. webtoons or three-panel strip webcomics. There are a number of reasons for their popularity in translation with both official publishers and fan translators alike, some of which are as follows:
• regular formatting; chapters/strips rarely differ from each other in panel count and format
• similar format to that of printed comics, be it the strip form or page form
• a lack of heavily enhancing features, i.e. elaborate animations and interactivity; at most music and low-key animations
• easy editing with software programs; pages are not elaborate and therefore do not require great editorial efforts
• an established worldwide reader base that is familiar with the format; lack of experimental features that would cause reader confusion
While the aforementioned reasons may prove to be a defining asset in initiating translation projects, this does not mean that such translation efforts are substantially easier than translating enhanced webcomics, as could be observed on the example of Moss (2010). Nor does this imply that more attention should be paid to non-enhanced webcomics in place of enhanced webcomics. Rather, both basic forms should be taken into account.
It is for this reason that the following case studies will focus on two base examples; a non-enhanced webcomic by Ursula Vernon titled Digger (2003-2011), and an non-enhanced non-serialized webcomic titled These Memories Won’t Last (2015) by Stuart Campbell. The two titles represent the basic sides of the aforementioned webcomic taxonomy (thesis page), and have been established in terms of quality, positive consideration and fame. In the practical part of this thesis, Digger (2003-2011) figures as the main case study- the author of this thesis has worked on its translation over the course of three years, and continues to do so. On the other hand, These Memories Won’t Last (2015) is an example of a highly enhanced webcomic that takes advantage of online affordances without sacrificing its integrity as a work. This work will be analyzed as a supplementary, shorter case study.
Both case studies will be supported by aforementioned translation theories and approaches.
3.2. Case Study 1: Digger (2003-2011)