Hearing Voices - Oscar

 "...the perfect translation. I was naïve." I can't imagine ever growing out of that naivety, constantly anxious about staying loyal to the text as I am. 

This talk of voices that become infused with the translator's work makes me curious about the original author's work itself. What are the myriad voices that were involved in the creation of the original text, and how are they transformed by the writing and editing processes? Then, through the translator, these voices are mixed once more, transformed, with new voices added and old voices perhaps lost. Is it ever possible, then, for the translated work to ever faithfully carry across that originality?

And then there is the matter of those that don't bother even trying to carry anything, rather preferring to melt and mold those voices in their favor for the sake of sales. Perhaps there is merit in attempting to appeal to the general American reader compared to the average Japanese reader, but is it ever a consideration that the voices in play aren't for them to hear? It doesn't feel accurate to call it a translation when the original expresses the cruelty of nature, and the translation instead emphasizes sex and the "seductive Oriental" - rather, it seems more like an entirely new derivative of the original work. 

Even when reading the well-reputed translations of Murakami or even the Genji Monogatari, I become paranoid whether the voice I imagine behind the words is the voice of the author themself, or if it's become something else that I think is the original simply because I'm told so.