This week I’ve just finished up a 25K word translation project. The largest I’ve done so far! It was in fashion, and this is one of my favourite subjects to work in (Yes, I was the kind of weirdo 14-year-old who bought Vogue and read it cover-to-cover, even the ads at the back) so it was an enjoyable challenge for me!
I noticed that learning the principles of UX training has made the translation process go much smoother, and it’s really helped me structure how I translate.
USEFUL
What information do I need to convey? What is useful to the reader? What key information do I need to know from the source?
Of course, as translators we need to apply everything in the source in the closest way possible in the target language, but sometimes we have a bit of freedom in classifying the importance. In my main language pair, French to English, I can often front load the message, to put the emphasis on the most important information for the user at the beginning. Clearly this isn’t possible or suitable in all languages and other tactics might be needed. If I can though, I will try!
CONCISE
Is what I’ve already translated already conveyed in another term? What are the connotations with this term?
Am I adding superfluous words that can be pared down in my translation? English is notoriously more concise, especially compared to French, so often conveying an idea will often take half the space in English than in French. In my experience as a proof-reader, this is sometimes a trap that a translator can fall into. Especially when translating a lot of content, the sheer mental load means you can often find yourself on autopilot and directly translating in a way that sounds bizarre in English such as including direct articles where it would be unnatural in English. This is a big no-no.
USER-CENTERED
What terms do people actually use? Would my friends understand this? Would a fashion buyer understand this?
The biggest mistake I’ve seen these luxury brands make is not focusing enough on their potential users and making their copy entirely about themselves. These companies often play an essential role in keeping ancestral skills alive and are right to be proud. However, it’s entirely possible to pay tribute to this and make the experience as easy and as pleasurable as possible for their clients. Fashion is a highly emotive business. When we choose what to wear, we are expressing how we feel or how we want to feel. Discounting this emotional link with users is discounting one of the biggest potential assets you have. So, for me it’s vital to talk using their language.
CLEAR
Make sense. Make it easy.
Above all, this is probably the principal that is most applicable to translation – what you write HAS to make sense in the target language. You can’t just directly word-for-word translate things. (Well people do, and often these days, that’s all the budget allows for, but please just don’t ok? Want better than that. Be better than that. Thanks.) You need to read the source and take a meaning that is understandable in the rendered version. As a translator and as a UX writer you need to speak the language of your users. Avoiding friction as a translator is avoiding misunderstandings, awkwardness, lawsuits and much more! Entire books have been written, blogs published and tweets about bad, funny translations but I found this example above by chance on google translate the other week:
Bien à toi = classic email sign-off to use in France, most equivalent to ‘Yours,’
Good for you = Weirdly enthusiastic or sarcastic in tone. Not a common email sign-off.
CONSISTANT
Am I changing terminology half-way through? Or The Horror of Homonyms
Just like in writing interface copy, remaining consistent will help your translation. If you’re working in a CAT tool, you’ll want the memory to remain reliable, for one thing. Keeping the same terminology for the same concepts makes a text easier to read, and easier to understand, both in UX writing and in translation. Also, as working translators paid by the word, it obviously makes your life a little easier which is nice, amirite?
However don’t just plough ahead regardless and not think about the context of what you’re actually writing. Homonyms (words that are said the same way but spelled differently and having different meanings) are kind of the ultimate horror in translation. We’ve all done it, we’ve all mixed up a there, their, and they’re. It’s a totally understandable mistake and one that is actually very easy to do, especially as a tired, humans we are. But it’s embarrassing. I’ve come close many times, especially on this large project:
Cachemire = cashmere but also paisley print, named after the town near Glasgow, Scotland that was a major textile producer in the 18th and 19th centuries. Which, according to Wikipedia, was also the last place in Western Europe to perform a mass execution of witches in 1697.
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