Translating Brick Lane Interlinguistically

As anticipated above, translators should try and maintain those (linguistic and cultural) elements of
the text which emphasise the ideological stance of the source product.
This is clearly a difficult process because either we obscure or mute the cultural disjunctions between
source and target texts/languages/cultures, thereby resulting ‘unfaithful’ to the source text, or we
perpetrate negative stereotypes.
As we have seen in a previous Unit, the title of the novel itself was originally translated
as Sette mari, tredici fiumi in 2003, on the basis of a sentence that is reiterated within the text.
However, the later translation (2008) maintained the original title Brick Lane., in order to be more
faitfhul to the original text.
For instance, the complex noun phrase seen in the previous pages, namely:
- “monkey-lizard-hybrid-sin-against-God-that-was-buried-alive-in-the-faraway-forest”
Perria, quite successfully, adopts a strategy of literal translation and renders the sentence as:
“unibrido-fra-scimmia-e-lucertola-un-peccato-contro-Dio-che-era-stato-seppellito-vivo-nel-c
uore-della-foresta…” thus safeguarding the cultural translation performed by Ali.

Yet, even on the occasion of the 2008 translation, extracts such as the one reproduced above were
rendered, in the Italian version, as such:
DACCA, BANGLADESH settembre 1988

Sorella ho molte cose da dire. Nuovo indirizzo a Narayanganj. Un lavoro in una fabbrica nuova. Ora sono
addetta alla macchina un vero lavoro da donna.
Signor Chowdhury dice di fare i bagagli e non preoccuparmi. Casa pukka, dice. Stanza più grande. Mi
accompagna in Toyota Land Cruiser. Aria condizionata radio posacenere per sigarette e tutto. È un padre per
me. Dice sempre: Tutto quello che ti serve. Ogni volta che sei nei guai. Vieni da me. Questo è gentile da parte
di un uomo. Tutti gli mostrano rispetto. Quando arriviamo ci sono piccoli problemi. I vecchi inquilini non
sono andati via. La donna lancia insulti. Davanti ai bambini dice parole sporche. Gli uomini del signor
Chowdhury li aiutano ad andare via. Poi pulisco la stanza.

This translation, however, is not particularly effective and does not seem to respect the original
narrative. As we can see here, within the translated text, the words and expressions that, through the
adoption of addition and expansion strategies, result in standardised renditions of the non-standard
language of the source text, are underlined. A rapid glimpse to the extract can therefore render patent
the fact that most of the non-standard traits of the source text are omitted in the target text.

Yet, the adoption of what is normally referred to as ‘italiano popolare’, where, as we shall see below,
the accumulation of prepositions in Italian (‘presso a delle famiglie’ instead of ‘presso delle
famiglie’), could have perhaps been considered a valid equivalent, in that, for example it makes a
similar use of prepositions we find in pidgins.

Naturally, in the source text, the linguistic variety Ali exploits is, fundamentally, geographical (even
though it implies, to some extent, a social element connected to the character’s education). On the
contrary, the adoption of such forms in the target language would mean to exploit the expressiveness
of a social variety. In this case, too, however, it should be noted that in Italy, the social varieties of
language often intermingle with other (often geographical) parameters.

However, since, as discussed above, it would be extremely difficult to translate a geographical dialect
with a different geographical dialect, a substitution across the dialect spectrum, could be deemed
effective.
Because of the standardisation to which Hasina’s language is subjected during the transposition into
Italian, the translation affects the isotopies of the text rather considerably, construing an altogether
different character for the target reader.

This approach actually remains constant throughout the text, even when it would have been rather
simple to signal the fact that in the source text a non-standard variety of English had been used.

In particular, towards the end of the extract – where the source text presents the construction ‘help
for them to go’, which, as noticed above, is typical of pidgins – in the Italian translation readers are
confronted with a perfectly standard form (‘li aiutano ad andare via’ – ‘they help them go’).

However, precisely as pidginised forms, these elements become the expression of one of those
multiplicity of Englishes that were born during the de-colonisation process, when former colonised
subjects appropriated the language of their former masters, contaminating it with their native
languages. As pointed out before, this is therefore a language which, rather than conceal the author’s
Otherness, exalts it.

Yet, the Italian translation does not represent these characterising elements of the source text and, as
such, distorts its ideological impact substantially.

In reality, the examples the novel offers are innumerable, since one of the author’s aims is, precisely,
to translate and insert in her text some of the linguistic and cultural markers of her original
community. For reasons of space, it is not possible to discuss here all the instances presented within
the novel. Yet, I hope that this discussion, albeit succinct, demonstrates how translators should
always analyse the cultural context from which the text stems, the situational context that it
represents, the registers and the various dialects it voices, etc. Indeed, it is only by comprehending
the full impact these elements have in the source text, that translators will be able to transpose them
in a target language effectively.

Thus, an analysis of the different registers adopted by different characters or by the same characters
in different situational contexts, as well as the identification of the various semantic fields and their
relation to the various cultural and intertextual references, together with the investigation of the
pragmatic idiosyncrasies of the various characters, the way the turn-taking system is used, etc.,
would have offered a valid guide to the translator.

In particular, a well pondered revision of the target text, by encouraging a contrastive analysis
between the source and the target text, would have enabled the translator to identify which losses
could have been compensated, thereby helping in the realisation of a more effective target text.

These elements are indeed expressions of one of the “many englishes” that were born during the
decolonisation process, when the former colonised adopted the language imposed by the former
masters contaminating it with their own native languages.

It is thus a language that brings to the fore their Otherness, rather than concealing it. This is why the
“english” used by authors such as Monica Ali becomes an effective anti-colonial instrument, as by
subjecting English to various processes of syntactic and verbal dislocation, resorting to local idioms
and adopting native cultural referents, writers loosen it from its colonial past and make it national.
Language, and the notions of translation, contamination and hybridity, become essential tools. Not
only this, but the Italian translation does not even represent the typical elements of spoken English
we find represented in Ali’s novel. This, while not being a ‘postcolonial trait’ typical of the immigrant
characters she represents, it certainly identifies the language of youth used by British people as well
(think for example to face to face conversations or the language of advertising).
Thus, when reading, speaking and/or translating, we ought to bear in mind that linguistic choices do
make a difference, not only from a linguistic, but also from a cultural, political and ideological point
of view.
As Roland Barthes used to say, everything matters, in language, and language always expresses
something behind (and beyond) its mere ‘signifier’.
Works by authors such as Monica Ali thus make a serious effort to try and understand what it means
to be ‘British’ today, representing Britain with its mix of races and colours, inherited from the former
Empire and perfectly epitomised by the multiethnic city of London. By so doing, these authors bring
to the fore the fact that being British is no longer what it once was and that there exists a new, British
(not English) identity. This is a hybrid identity, expression of the fragmentation of culture which
various communities endured throughout history.
It is actually authors such as Ali that create a very accurate image of ‘the contemporary British
citizen’: a new breed, as stated by one of the protagonists of another fundamental authors of Black
Britain, namely Hanif Kureishi.
Cultural and linguistic hybridity, then, which was once regarded as a source of shame, as for example,
for the Coloured races in South Africa, now becomes a source of salvation, and rather than being
conceived as a burden to be concealed or a sin to be expiated, in the new multiethnic cities of
contemporary Britain (and the literature which tries to account for that world), it becomes a beauty to
be exhibited.
Translations, in any language, of these works, which can be identified as the most lively expressions
of contemporary British literature, should therefore work towards the same end, in order to uphold
the only tenable British identity contemporary society can envisage.

Translating Brick Lane Intersemiotically

(vedi video elly) In a similar way to what happened in the intersemiotic adaptations of The Scarlet
Letter we have addressed in the first Unit of this course, in this case too we can notice a discrepancy
between the Order in which the events are narrated in the written and the film texts. Indeed, whereas
the novel begins, as we have seen, with an account of Nazneen's birth, the film opens by representing
the female protagonist as a teenager.

As we can see, in this case the visual representation of what could be only described in the novel is
particularly relevant, since the colours, the dress codes (including the jewellery the chracters wear)
and the natural setting of Bangladesh create an even harsher contrast with London life.

If this is so, it is, on the one hand, because most of the time life in Bangladesh is represented as
experienced outdoors, whereas life in London is often confined within the walls of Chanu's home,
behind a closed door. On the other hand, however, it is evident that the contrast between Bangladesh
and London is equally emphasised on the occasions of scenes shot outside.
As we might notice from the trailer as well, music plays a major part in this intrsemiotic translation
and - together with dress codes, culinary habits, notions of appropriacy, references to local literature
etc. - help the author translate the visible aspects of of her original culture.

Furthermore, the letters Hasina sends Nazneen become a strong element the author and the director
exploit to bring forward the Otherness of the Bangladeshi characters on the one side and, on the
other, the colonial alienation that identifies - at least at the beginning - Nazneen's husband, typically
dressed in Western clothes. Throughout the film, which you can watch here, we can notice many
strategies and procedures of dramatic synthesis, omission, on a few occasions addition, have been
applied. As a consequence, some of the isotopies get changed from source to target text.
(Vedi activity)
 Remakes as forms of re-translations: The ideological power of translation: Ideological
aspects of remakes
Having acquired some of the basic notions of intersemiotic translation in the pevious Unit, in the first
two modules of this Unit, we are going to analyse how the novel Jane Eyre was re-written from the
postcolonial point of view by Rhys and published as the novel Wide Sargasso Sea. Furthermore, we are
going to see how the filmic transpositions of these written texts represented on screen the main
issues to which the authors give voice in their works.
Indeed, the ‘translated’ text makes large use of intertextuality and posits itself as an antecedent to
Brontë’s Jane Eyre, analysing the creole character of Bertha (once Antoinette) and her relationship
with Rochester.
This is the reason why Rhys’s novel can be understood as a re-writing of Brontë’s novel. Indeed,
because according to various theories, translation is, in fact, a form of re-writing, Rhys’s novel can
also be read as a form of (intralingual) translation. As we are going to see, through her ‘translation’ of
Brontë’s text Rhys raises issues as to the legitimisation of the colonial enterprise. As we shall see, the
postcolonial translation of a canonical text such as Bronte’s reverses the dichotomies posited by
colonialism, suggesting that it was actually the colonisers who should have been identified as the
Others, lacking the empathy that characterises human beings.
In this Unit we are therefore going to analyse, albeit succinctly, the relationship between the source
text (Jane Eyre) and the target text (Wide Sargasso Sea). However, as anticipated above, in order to
render the discussion more stimulating, we are going to see how these verbal texts were translated
intersemiotically for the screen. With this goal in mind, we are therefore going to use Zeffirelli’s
transposition of Brontë’s novel (1996) and Maher’s television production of Wide Sargasso Sea
(2006). There are of course many other translations that might be used and that might sometimes
result closer to the tastes of a contemporary audience. The choices and the selection of the corpus are
clearly personal and depend on the time teachers have at their disposal, the age of the students and
their level of English.

Intersemiotic translation of Jane Eyre

Besides older productions such as Stevenson’s adaptation of Jane Eyre (1943) – amazingly translated
in Italian as La porta proibita - among other materials that might be used on this specific topic we can
mention:
- Duigan’s intersemiotic translation of Wide Sargasso Sea (1993)
- The BBC television series Jane Eyre (2007)
- Fukunaga’s production of Jane Eyre in 2011
From the point of view of intersemiotic translation, in the case of Zeffirelli’s film Jane Eyre, we can
certainly talk about a faithful translation, although there are many differences between the novel and
the film.
The strategy of partial adaptation, on the contrary, can be seen at the core of the relationship between
Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea and Maher’s film. In the novel Jane Eyre, Rochester plays the role of the
victim of a well-planned scheme. Zeffirelli’s film too, the director, following Brontë’s source text,
paints the male character as a very unhappy man who bears the burden of his family’s wrongdoings.

He is presented as an honest and just man, who takes his responsibilities very seriously, despite the
difficulties this can create. Although readers/viewers will learn about the most important of these
responsibilities (i.e. his marriage with Bertha) and their implications only further on in the text/film,
from the very beginning Rochester is depicted as a good man who would never shy away from his
duties. At the same time, from the very moment Jane sets foot in Rochester’s house, Jane (and, with
her, the readers/viewers) is exposed to the almost animalistic sounds (what Brontë refers to as
‘unnatural sound’) produced by what they will later discover is Rochester’s first wife, Bertha.In the
novel, the author lingers on the description of Bertha in animalistic terms. This is done on the basis of
the many intertextual references to the Imperialistic tradition briefly referred to previously,
according to which Jamaica is not only a land full of riches and natural resources, but also a country
filled with dangers, illness, degenerative natives and madness. These descriptions, in Zeffirelli’s film,
are replaced by images, sounds and the general (gloomy) atmosphere created by the
director.Although we shall not know about Rochester’s first marriage until the scene of the wedding
between Jane and her Master, throughout the filmic text we find lots of hints as to the fact that the
mansion hides some dark secret nobody wants to talk about.
Even on the occasion of the wedding between Rochester and Jane, the governess, well aware of her
Master’s secret, tries, without actually saying much, to dissuade Jane, in order to protect her.

Jane Eyre vs Wide Sargasso Sea

The last scene seen just before is, in actual fact, rather similar to the one we find in Wide Sargasso
Sea, where the woman who was warned on the dangers of marrying Rochester was, in fact, Bertha
Mason. In Rhys’s re-writing of Jane Eyre, then, Rochester is characterised as a suspicious and
dangerous man from the very beginning. In Zeffirelli’s film, even when the first fire occurs, we do not
know immediately who the responsible person is. Here, the expressive force of the actor helps, once
again, to characterise the male protagonist as a concerned Master and adds to the general atmosphere
enveloping the mansion and those who live there.
The narrative clues lead Jane (and, with her, the readers/viewers) to believe that the responsible
person is one of the servants, although in Zeffirelli’s film the dialogue between Jane and Grace, seems
to raise doubts as to the identity of the aggressor. As the story progresses, however, we get the feeling
more and more of urgency and disaster that the author/director wants to convey. This is clearly done
in order to construe as a lunatic and a dangerous character the woman who will later be identified as
the one responsible for all these actions.
A close reading, however, can lead us to question the moral character of Rochester, in that he seems
quite happy to court Jane, while engaged to another woman. Naturally, Brontë is staging here the
romantic kind of love that justifies everything and wins. In the end, Jane accepts Rochester’s
proposal, despite his engagement which, as he declares, has nothing to do with love. Even though at
this stage in the narrative readers/viewers are led to believe that Rochester’s love for Jane is real and
should therefore conquer all, this proposal, which according to social standards would be rather
unacceptable in view of his previous engagement, obviously assumes an even more sinister meaning
when we discover he was already married.
It is precisely during their wedding that we discover Rochester’s secret and are finally able to meet
the ‘ghost’ that has been haunting the house and some of the characters since the very beginning.
Once again, the male character is presented as the good and honest man who did what he did in order
not to disappoint his family and who was benevolent enough not to leave his wife. On the contrary, he
took her to England and locked her up in a room for the rest of her life, while carrying on with his
social life and love life.

Perhaps at this moment more than ever, in Brontë’s novel, Bertha is introduced as a sub-human
Other in opposition to the Englishman Rochester: I was of a good race […] I had marked neither modesty,
nor benevolence, nor candour, nor refinement in her mind or manners […] I found her nature wholly alien to
mine; her tastes obnoxious to me; her cast of mind common, low, narrow, and singularly incapable of being
led to anything higher […] what a pigmy intellect she had.

Throughout the novel, the author refers to Bertha in animalistic and objectifying terms. She is in fact
referred to as ‘something’ ; ‘almost like a dog’; ‘savage face’; ‘what it was, whether beast or human
being, one could not tell […] it was covered with clothing; and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair.

Rochester is thus equally posited as a victim of Bertha’s sexual degeneration: the true daughter of an
infamous mother dragged me through the hideous and degrading agonies which must attend a man bound
to a wife at once intemperate and unchaste.
The final aim of these descriptions is, as in the best Colonialist tradition, to build up the native (in
this instance Bertha), as the ‘Other’ against whom the Westerner Rochester could be construed as the
‘I’, the superior, flawless Subject. By doing this, the woman is relegated to the role of the inferior,
degenerate Object.
Wide Sargasso Sea
Rhys’s novel, on the contrary, tells an altogether different story. First of all, the strategies of dramatic
synthesis and the strategy of shifting are exploited at a macro-level (in that the novel and its film
adaption posit themselves as pre-sequels to Jane Eyre).
In Wide Sargasso Sea we actually meet Bertha almost immediately; she is represented as in one of the
final scenes of Jane Eyre: dressed in a white nightdress, barefoot, with long hair and, more
importantly, locked up and referred to as ‘mad’.

The same strategies are applied at a micro-level, in that Maher's production begins with the fire that,
in Zeffirelli’s adaptation, almost closes the film. Here, however, there is a fundamental difference, in
that whereas in Jane Eyre the fire was the result of Bertha’s malicious nature, in Wide Sargasso Sea it
is represented as an accident. More importantly, Rhys’s text and its intersemiotic translation
question from the very beginning the Otherness and the madness of Bertha. Indeed, the text suggests
that she is driven insane by the coldness Rochester shows after he hears rumours about her mother
and is alienated by his attempt to ‘colonise’ her. Indeed, she is driven mad by the pressure Rochester
puts on her as to explain and justify her identity and her lineage. More fundamentally, the fact that
the woman who was born as Antoinette is given a new name by the coloniser, naturally entails a
displacement of identity.Rhys, however, also questions the superiority and the Subject position held
by Rochester himself. In Wide Sargasso Sea, it is in fact Rochester who lies to Antoinette: I kissed her
fervently, promising her peace, happiness, safety. He is the one who is morally and sexually degenerate,
and who is unfaithful to her.
Furtermore, Rhys clearly states that he was not duped into marrying Antoinette. On the contrary, he
fervently wanted to marry her and, contrary to what he would declare later on in Brontë's version, he
was not at all disgusted by the look of her: I [Rochester] wondered why I had never realized how beautiful
she was. Her hair was combed away from her face and fell smoothly far below her waist.
In fact, from the very beginning, he is obviously willing to accept the dangers inherent in the place of
the Other in order to profit from its riches
Fundamentally, it is Rochester who takes the final step towards her construction as a sub-human
Other by lying to her, telling her that in England she will be seen by a doctor, while already knowing
on the contrary he will lock her up and chain her like an animal.

The way the women in Rochester’s life wear their hair thus appears particularly relevant. The savage,
uncontrollable and mad nature of Antoinette, is represented by her long hair. This is quite different
from the way Bertha tries to wear her hair in order to adapt to the lifestyle of her British Master.
Through intertextuality, the alternation of oppressor/victim is reversed and Brontë’s animalistic
descriptions of Bertha are applied by Rhys to Antoinette’s oppressors.
Thus, via Antoinette, Rhys’s novel urgently poses the question ‘Who is the traitor?’ (p.74),
and this powerful criticism to the world Brontë’s novel depicts is rendered more effective through the
exploitation of the iconographic language of films.

Naturally, this extremely succinct analysis does not justice neither to the novels nor to the filmic
productions. Yet, this section was conceived as a simple exemplification of the many elements that
audio-visual products bring together in their rendition of formerly written texts. Clearly, in the case
of such complex texts, where intertextual references play such a fundamental role, readers’ ability to
recognise these references, activate connections, interpret pragmatic uses of language as well as its
silences, etc., becomes essential. These aspects, naturally, become even more fundamental when the
text needs translating. Indeed, as suggested above, this holds true in the case of any type of
translation, thus including inter and intrasemiotic transpositions. Thus, as the SI and SIT models
prompt receivers and translators to do, the identification of the various semantic fields, the
understanding of the symbolic uses of colours, the interpretation of the distance characters keep
between them, etc., become essential in the appreciation of the filmic text itself. Furthermore, as the
brief analysis of Maher’s filmic text above suggests, the way a source text is reformulated in a target
text can result, as we shall see below, in very different versions of the same text and of reality itself.
For instance, it is not by chance that in Jane Eyre, Jane, as a representative of Britain, should wear
black, and Bertha/Antoinette, on the contrary, should be represented in white. Indeed, although it
was rather normal, at the time, for governesses and maids to wear dark colours, it is obvious that, in
this instance, the colours (connected to the contrast darkness vs light, as well as sight vs blindness),
take on highly symbolic values.

It is therefore possible to see how the SI model could be easily adapted to the interpretation of
audio-visual products too. Furthermore, the brief discussion developed here, points to the usefulness
the SIT model could have also when translating a text either intersemiotically or audio-visually.
As further discussed below, in addition, the features these models highlight become paramount even
when the text under discussion is an open intrasemiotic translation, which, as anticipated supra, can
equally be understood as a form of re-translation. Thus, just as any other form of translation is often
marked by specific ideologies, so, as this chapter suggests, intrasemiotic translations or remakes can
voice particular ideological positions that might coincide with those propounded by the source
(filmic) text or can distance themselves from it.

This is clearly very evident in the case of source texts which, as those analysed just then, are
originally marked by strong political and ideological stances. Yet, as discussed in more detail below,
some form of ideology marks, in fact, any use of language.