Hiromi Kawakami is an author known for her incredible range, from realism to speculative fiction. Her first novel to be published in English was Michael Emmerich\u2019s 2010 translation of\u00a0Manazuru<\/em>. Since then, Kawakami has been translated into English by no fewer than half a dozen translators.\u00a0Strange Weather in Tokyo<\/em>, translated by Allison Markin Powell, was a critical and commercial success, and\u00a0Record of a Night Too Brief<\/em>, translated by Lucy North, was also received warmly by Kawakami fans. Ted Goossen\u2019s translation of\u00a0People from My Neighborhood<\/em>, a collection of vignettes mostly first published in the literary magazine\u00a0Monkey Business<\/em>, came out in 2020 to critical acclaim.<\/p>\n David Boyd & David Karashima: You’ve been translating the stories that make up this volume over a period of years. What has it been like to live with a project like this? When you come back to it, how does it feel to re-enter “the neighborhood\u201d?<\/strong><\/p>\n Ted Goossen:<\/strong> I started translating Hiromi Kawakami\u2019s People from My Neighborhood<\/em> more than ten years ago for the annual literary magazine Monkey Business<\/em>, now just Monkey<\/em>, which I coedit with Motoyuki Shibata and Meg Taylor. Amazingly, we are still at it \u2013 right now we are working on Issue Nine. In almost every issue are at least two stories from this ongoing series, which has continued even after the book came out. In other words, there may be a Volume Two on the horizon!<\/p>\n I have been asked why I rendered the \u2018kono atari\u201d in the title as \u201cneighborhood.\u201d I think it\u2019s because, for many of us at least, there is something familiar about its cast of characters. There was a lot of crazy stuff going on, but at the same time it felt like a real neighborhood, I guess, so that\u2019s the word I chose.<\/p>\n Now after more than a decade of \u2018visiting the neighborhood,\u2019 I feel like I kind of belong. Indeed, I \u201creturn\u201d there each year when I translate her most recent stories. Sometimes, it\u2019s like meeting old friends to catch up on the new gossip; at other times its something totally unexpected. It\u2019s fun to read and to translate, and my feeling is that Kawakami is having fun writing it too. I sure hope she keeps it up!<\/p>\n DB & DK: Does each story have its own “voice”? Is there one voice that runs through them? Did you have any other works in mind as you translated the stories?<\/strong><\/p>\n TG:<\/strong> Kawakami has a distinctive style, that can change from work to work. People<\/em> is written in a deceptively simple way. In fact, it\u2019s that style that gives the stories their special power. As for models, I didn\u2019t have any specific English text in mind, but one is certainly relevant: E.B. White\u2019s classic children\u2019s novel, Charlotte\u2019s Web<\/em>. For the last year, I have been living with my two-and-a-half-year-old grandson. He loves being read to, so I have revisited many of the books of my own childhood. E.B. White was an editor at the New Yorker<\/em>, the \u201cguardian\u201d of American literary style, and in fact Charlotte\u2019s Web<\/em> is beautifully written. The writing flows smoothly, without any excess ornamentation, in a style that never calls attention to itself. As a result, it can be enjoyed by both parents and children alike. Though the contents of Kawakami\u2019s Neighborhood<\/em> are not always suitable for children (\u201cBaseball\u201d comes to mind!), the way the stories are written can be enjoyed by even the very young \u2013 just ask my grandson, who has heard many of them (his favourite is \u201cPigeonitis,\u201d especially when the reader acts it out!)<\/p>\n DB & DK: Kawakami’s writing has an oral nature to it. Is this something you think about when translating her work?<\/strong><\/p>\n TG:<\/strong> I always try to keep my ear attuned to the sound of both the original and the translation. At the beginning of the process the original dominates; by the end, I am far more concerned with the flow of the English. I have translated other works by Kawakami \u2013 at present, I am working on the short story collection Dragon\u2019s Palace<\/em> (\u300e\u7adc\u5bae\u300f), and I absolutely love her novel \u300e\u30bb\u30f3\u30bb\u30a4\u306e\u9784\u300f [translated into English as The Briefcase\/Strange Weather in Tokyo <\/em>by Allison Markin Powell] \u2013 so I know that her rhythms vary from work to work. Yet all bear witness to her keen oral sense, one reason why I love her writing so much.<\/p>\n At the same time, though, that very \u201corality\u201d can present problems for the translator. Kawakami is a master of onomatopoeia (\u64ec\u58f0\u8a9e), one of the Japanese language most striking attributes. Now we have countless examples of the same sort of thing in English \u2013 the rain goes \u201cpitter patter\u201d, for example, while words like \u201crumble\u201d and \u201cgrumble\u201d convey meaning through sound \u2013 but it is challenging as a translator to try and link the two sides. One benefit I have received by working on Kawakami\u2019s prose, in fact, is my own heightened awareness of the sounds which are embedded in the English language. (Once again, I have been aided by my grandson, who loves playing with the sounds of the new words he is learning.)<\/p>\n DB & DK: Could you walk us through the first line of “Rivals\u201d?<\/strong><\/p>\n TG: There are other problems which, like Onomatopoeia, are difficult, sometimes impossible, to solve. For example, the first line of \u201cRivals\u201d goes like this. [\u7f8a\u5b50\u3055\u3093\u3068\u3001\u305d\u306e\u304a\u5411\u304b\u3044\u306b\u4f4f\u3080\u5996\u5b50\u3055\u3093\u306f\u3001\u30e9\u30a4\u30d0\u30eb\u3060\u3002] Here the problem is how to distinguish between the two Yokos. In Japanese, of course, the difference is in the kanji with which they are written. If the translator were to choose to involve the meaning of those kanji, then \u7f8a\u5b50 would become \u2018sheep girl\u2019 or something like that, while \u5996\u5b50 would become \u201cwitch girl\u201d. Sheepish Yoko and Witchy Yoko? Does the original support that kind of reading? I doubt it. So, I simply made the distinction, \u201cYoko One\u201d and \u201cYoko Two.\u201d A related challenge arises when teaching Kawabata Yasunari\u2019s classic novel, Snow Country <\/em>(\u300e\u96ea\u56fd\u300f), translated by Edward Seidensticker, where the three main characters are named Shimamura \u5cf6\u6751, Yoko \u8449\u5b50, and Komako \u99d2\u5b50. Here the meaning of the kanji is very relevant\u2014Shimamura is an isolated man, an island unto himself; Yoko can be identified with the plant world, where death suggests a rebirth in the spring; while Komako is most definitely connected to the animal world of youthful purity and vigor followed by aging and culminating in a final death.<\/p>\n I can touch upon these kinds of associations in my lectures, but how should I deal with them in my translations? One way would be through the use of footnotes. Depending on where the translation is being published, this can work. In fact, it is a common feature of translations that accompany academic research, whether in academic journals or MA and PhD theses. The other option is to embed discussions of language and translation problems in a Translator\u2019s Note, a strategy that I employed in my recent publication of Shiga Naoya\u2019s Reconciliation<\/em> (\u300e\u548c\u89e3\u300f), where, in a 7-page \u201cNote,\u201d I drew the reader\u2019s attention to the way the concept of \u201cki\u201d (\u6c17) operates in the novella (Canongate Books, 2020). Generally speaking, however, literary publishers and translators dislike the effect of footnotes in a literary, non-academic translation. Our hope is that the reader will become immersed in the reading experience, and not have his or her reading interrupted with extraneous detail, no matter how important we think it is.<\/p>\n DB & DK: In “Rivals,” when a god (kamisama) is mentioned, you use a lowercase “g.” What are your thoughts about that decision?<\/strong><\/p>\n TG:<\/strong> I have been teaching about Japan for over 40 years, and I can say that, without a doubt, one of the biggest challenges I have faced is getting students to understand the way Japanese religion merges several worldviews into one: the simple fact that most Japanese have a Shinto wedding and a Buddhist funeral, for example, takes a lot of explaining! Another complicated issue is the word \u201cgod\u201d or \u795e\u69d8 itself. Is the \u201cgod\u201d referred to in a Japanese text one of the many kamigami of Shinto tradition, or does it refer to a monotheistic deity, the \u201cGod\u201d of the Torah, the Bible and the Koran? It isn\u2019t always clear. In this case, the presence or absence of a capital \u201cG\u201d in one\u2019s translation speaks volumes.<\/p>\n Kawakami\u2019s short story \u300c\u795e\u69d8\u300d, and its sequel, \u300c\u795e\u69d8 2011\u300d, both of which Shibata Motoyuki and I translated for Granta (and which was later included in the collection March Was Made of Yarn<\/em>), is a good case in point. Kawakami touches on the God\/god distinction in the postscript she added to \u300c\u795e\u69d8 2011\u300d. As she explains, the bear god in the story is one of the many who \u201cpresided over all aspects of greater nature.\u201d She doesn\u2019t believe in all the gods from the bottom of her heart; \u201cyet . . . when I feel the warm rays of the sun pouring through my window, my immediate reaction is, \u2018Aah, the sun god has returned.\u2019 In that sense, I still retain the sensibility of the Japanese of old.\u201d<\/p>\n Not all modern Japanese writers are that clear. Sometimes, a translator must deduce whether or not the \u2018G\u2019 in a particular work should be capitalized by examining the context and, possibly, the world view of a particular writer.<\/p>\n DB & DK: In \u201cThe Office,\u201d\u00a0how did you approach Oniisan’s three set phrases?<\/strong><\/p>\n TG:<\/strong> Another often insoluble translation problem occurs when the Japanese being used is nonstandard. How should one handle the language of Nakagami Kenji (\u4e2d\u4e0a\u5065\u6b21) and Nosaka Akiyuki (\u91ce\u5742\u662d\u5982), for example, two great novelists who wrote much of their work in the dialect (\u65b9\u8a00) of their birthplaces? Sadly, there is not much a translator can do in this situation. Dialects don\u2019t travel well \u2013 they are specific to certain times and locations. If one were to borrow from William Faulkner to create \u2018southern American\u2019 speech patterns for Nakagami, or from Cockney English to add flavor to Nosaka\u2019s stories the results would be misleading, even ridiculous.<\/p>\n I thought of this conundrum when I was translating Kawakami\u2019s story, \u201cThe Office,\u201d which features an almost nonverbal, seemingly autistic young man whose pencil and crayon sketches attract wide attention. He has three pat phrases, \u30cf\u30f3\u30b3\u304a\u3057\u307e\u3059\u304b\uff1b \u30b1\u30c3\u30b5\u30a4\u304a\u306d\u304c\u3044\u3057\u307e\u3059\uff1band \u304d\u3087\u3046\u306f\u3088\u304f\u3075\u308a\u307e\u3059\u306d. Why these three phrases in particular? We can\u2019t be sure, but it seems he has an imaginative world centred around his \u201coffice\u201d in the park. I therefore translated them in a way consistent with the exchanges one normally hears in an office setting: \u201cShall I sign here?\u201d; \u201cFinal balance, please\u201d; and \u201cIt\u2019s raining hard today.\u201d This was pretty straightforward, the only substitution being \u201csign\u201d for \u201chanko,\u201d since few non-Japanese know what a hanko, or personal seal, is or what it is used for.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ted Goossen <\/strong>teaches Japanese literature and film at York University in Toronto. He is the general editor of The Oxford Book of Japanese Short Stories<\/em> and has published translations of stories and essays by Hiromi Kawakami, Y\u014dko Ogawa, and Sachiko Kishimoto, among others. He translated Haruki Murakami\u2019s Wind\/Pinball<\/em> and The Strange Library<\/em>, and co-translated (with Philip Gabriel) Men Without Women<\/em> and Killing Commendatore<\/em>. His translations of Hiromi Kawakami\u2019s People from My Neighbourhood<\/em> (Granta) and Naoya Shiga\u2019s Reconciliation<\/em> (Canongate) were published in 2020.<\/p>\n David Boyd<\/strong> is Assistant Professor of Japanese at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. He has translated fiction by Hiroko Oyamada and Mieko Kawakami, among others. His translation of Hideo Furukawa\u2019s\u00a0Slow Boat<\/em>\u00a0won the 2017\/2018 Japan-U.S. Friendship Commission (JUSFC) Prize for the Translation of Japanese Literature.\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n David Karashima<\/strong> is Associate Professor of Creative Writing at the School of International Liberal Studies, Waseda University. He has translated the works of a range of contemporary Japanese writers including Hitomi Kanehara, Shinji Ishii and Hisaki Matsuura. His nonfiction book Who We’re Reading When We’re Reading Murakami\u00a0<\/em>was published by Soft Skull Press in 2020.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Hiromi Kawakami is an author known for her incredible range, from realism to speculative fiction. Her first novel to be published in English was Michael Emmerich\u2019s 2010 translation of\u00a0Manazuru. Since then, Kawakami has been translated into English by no fewer than half a dozen translators.\u00a0Strange Weather in Tokyo, translated by Allison Markin Powell, was a critical and commercial success, and\u00a0Record of a Night Too Brief, translated by Lucy North, was also received warmly by Kawakami fans. Ted Goossen\u2019s translation of\u00a0People from My Neighborhood, a collection of vignettes mostly first published in the literary magazine\u00a0Monkey Business, came out in 2020 to critical acclaim.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":843,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[102],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-625","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-interviews-en","ja"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/625","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=625"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/625\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1193,"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/625\/revisions\/1193"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/843"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=625"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=625"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.waseda.jp\/inst\/wihl-annex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=625"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}