Why Translation Matters by Edith Grossman

Why Translation Matters Reviews

• 
  Steph

  I've read a couple of Grossman's translations, and was looking forward to seeing what she had to say on the art of translation. Not much, as it turns out, though we do learn a lot about her opinions of book reviewers.
  
  I especially took issue with the following sentence:
  
  "I am certainly not lamenting the fact that most reviewers do not make one-for-one lexical comparisons in order to point out whatever mistakes the translator may have made--a useless enterprise that enlightens no one since the book has already been published and errors cannot be rectified until the next printing--but I do regret very sincerely that so few of them have devised an intelligent way to review both the original and its translation within the space limitations imposed by the publication" (32).
  
  One-for-one comparisons seem like a reasonable enough way to comment on a reviewer's issues with a particular translation, given the space limitations Grossman points out. Grossman admits that she values rhythm in a poem over "exact" lexical matches, which is an approach I find problematic--and perhaps this is why this book grates on me so much. For example, in Jaime Manrique's poem "Mambo," she translates the phrase "que no se olvida" as "I remember"--but especially in poetry, where words are few and carefully chosen, not forgetting and remembering are two entirely distinct things. "Fidelity should never be confused with literalness," she writes on page 67, but this is a strange sort of fidelity.
  
  All that aside, there are some nice, warm and fuzzy one-liners floating around in her text about the importance of translation for writers, readers, society at large, and translators themselves. It's worth a skim.
• 
  Seth

  Edith Grossman, renowned Spanish-to-English literary translator, has taken on the challenge of explaining why translation matters. She scarcely mentions non-literary translation, so a better title would be: Why does literary translation matter?
  
  Another book on the subject of translation is “Is that a Fish in your Eye?” by David Bellos. He does discuss other forms of translation, such as business translation, and offers a good explication of Google Translate, which is clearly not on Ms. Grossman’s radar screen.
  
  Both books are extended essays on the art, value, and essence of translation. Both are thoughtful, philosophical, and replete with intriguing references.
  
  Both make the point that without translated literature, we would be deprived of access to world literature with all of its cultural treasures. Ms. Grossman points out that only 2-3 percent of books published in the United States and the United Kingdom are literary translations. I regard this fact as a wonderful counter-argument to those who maintain that there is no value in studying foreign languages. Essentially, monolingual Americans are cut off from the vast majority of global literary production, even if the most prodigious classics are available.
  
  Ms. Grossman explains the enormous challenge posed by the task of “bringing over” works of prose and poetry into English. She devotes a chapter to her experience translating Cervantes’ “Don Quixote” and a separate chapter to her approach to a variety of poems, which are reproduced in both Spanish and English. She offers a very persuasive case that literary translation is a highly creative endeavor worthy of more recognition. Consider this cri du coeur about the low standing of literary translators:
  
  “Putting to the side for a moment the dire state of publishing or the lamentable tendency of too many publishers to treat translators cavalierly or dismiss them as irrelevant, the fact is that it is no wonder translators are so frequently ignored. We seem to be a familiar part of the natural landscape—so customary and commonplace that we run the risk of becoming invisible.”
  
  This reminds me of a passage in Ms. Grossman’s own fine translation of “The Bad Girl” by Mario Vargas Llosa. A professional diplomatic translator/interpreter is counseling his protégé to abandon his foray into literary translation: “Your livelihood is at risk. A literary translator aspires to be a writer: that is, he’s a frustrated pencil pusher. Somebody who’ll never be resigned to disappearing into his work, as good interpreters do. Don’t renounce your status as a nonexistent gentleman, dear friend, unless you wish to end up a clochard.”
  
  This book represents Ms. Grossman’s rejoinder.
• 
  g026r

  Why Translation Matters is divided up into several several sections: an Introduction, Why Translation Matters, Translating Cervantes, and Translating Poetry. Unfortunately, though there were interesting points in them, almost the entirety of the first two sections and most of the third could have been probably combined into one and titled "Translators Get No Respect". It seemed less a defence of translation, less an explanation of just why translation is a valuable literary function, and more an airing of grievances. (The bits that did seem to match the title, or which presented a history of translation's acceptance among writers and cultures, were interesting at least, but they often seemed buried by the rest.)
  
  When, near the end of Translating Cervantes, she finally did get around to discussing translating
  Don Quixote, it was certainly interesting, but by that point the majority of the book had already been taken up with complaints about reviewers and publishers.
  
  Overall, a disappointment. There is a good, easily accessible to the general public, work defending translation as art rather than just copying someone else's words, but this isn't it. On the other hand, her judicious use of quotations from other writers speaking in defence of translation have put me on the path of other, potentially better works on the subject.
• 
  Miriam

  Being a person who appreciates the work of translators, I really wanted to like this book. Unfortunately, I didn't. I was expecting a brilliant defense of translation as art and craft, and all this book does is say over and over, "Translation is an art! Translation is a craft! Please credit us (translators) in your book reviews!" Although the section on Golden-Age Spanish poetry, with its side-by-side comparisons of the original and translated texts, was fascinating.
  
  If you want a better argument for why translation matters, please read Richard Pevear's introduction to his & Larissa Volokhonsky's translation of [i]The Brothers Karamazov[/i]. And then read the whole book, actually.
• 
  saïd

  To translate this book into a simple bite-sized sentence: translation is hard work which ought to be considered as much of an art as original writing, and translators are deeply undervalued, underrepresented, and underpaid.
• 
  Antonio Delgado

  An exquisite read. Without translations there is no culture. Without translation literature is destined to fail. Edith Grossman makes a good case for why it matters to read in translation and why it should be encouraged more. For someone who enjoys reading the same books and writers in different languages (including translations) this book is validation of such effort.
• 
  ukuklele

  Saya tertarik membaca buku ini karena punya hobi menerjemahkan, khususnya karya fiksi. Memang buku ini secara khusus membicarakan tentang penerjemahan karya sastra. Ada dua bagian yang masing-masingnya berisi pengalaman penulis dalam menerjemahkan novel dan puisi. Jadi penerjemahan yang diangkat dalam buku ini adalah penerjemahan sebagai seni, bukan penerjemahan teknis yang objeknya berupa dokumen dan sebagainya.
  
  Buku ini bisa relatable juga bagi orang yang punya hobi mengarang. Sebab, dalam proses kreatifnya, hampir pasti seorang pengarang terpengaruh oleh karya-karya asing. Sebelum seorang pengarang belajar membaca dalam bahasa asing, mestilah terlebih dahulu ia mengonsumsi karya yang telah diterjemahkan ke bahasa ibunya. Entahkah pengarang Indonesia atau pengarang negara lain, karya-karya asing atau terjemahan membantu mereka belajar menghasilkan karya kelas dunia.
  
  Banyak pula pengarang yang sekaligus penerjemah. Dengan menerjemahkan, mereka membaca (: mempelajari) karya orang lain secara mendalam. Keterkaitan antara kepengarangan dan kepenerjemahan ini sepertinya pernah beberapa kali dibahas dalam
  jurnal Eka Kurniawan.
  
  Bahkan meskipun kita sekadar pembaca tanpa hobi menerjemahkan atau mengarang, sebagai orang Indonesia, pasti ada banyak karya terjemahan yang telah mewarnai masa awal kita gemar membaca. Apalagi bagi anak-anak tahun '90-an ke bawah, sebut saja serial Harry Potter, Lima Sekawan, Winnetou, Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, dan seterusnya, sampai ke komik-komik Jepang; itu semua kan karya terjemahan yang dinikmati banyak pembaca Indonesia sejak anak-anak.
  
  Namun sayangnya peran penerjemah kurang diapresiasi; namanya tidak segemerlap penulis karya yang dia terjemahkan. Padahal yang dilakukan seorang penerjemah itu kurang lebih seperti menulis ulang karya orang lain, dari bahasa asing ke bahasanya sendiri. Satu karya bisa diterjemahkan oleh beberapa penerjemah, dan tiap-tiap hasilnya akan lain daripada yang lain. Dengan begitu, karya terjemahan seolah-olah bukannya tanpa orisinalitas sama sekali.
  
  Entahkah di Indonesia, sebab buku ini secara khusus mengangkat keadaan di negara penulis berdomisili, yaitu Amerika Serikat. Rupanya di negara-negara adikuasa yang bahasanya menjadi lingua franca dunia dewasa ini, yaitu Amerika Serikat dan Inggris Raya, karya terjemahan cenderung didiskreditkan. Kalau di negara-negara lain (yang sepertinya termasuk negara kita) jumlah buku terjemahan yang terbit bisa sampai 50%, di Amerika dan Inggris jumlahnya minim sekali; seperti ada suatu gengsi yang terlalu tinggi atau sikap menutup diri dari kebudayaan asing.
  
  Malah teman chat saya dari AS mengimbuhkan bahwa secara umum masyarakatnya memang tidak suka membaca buku, jangankan yang terjemahan. Mengherankan, sebab ada begitu banyak buku karya penulis AS yang diterjemahkan ke bahasa Indonesia sehingga timbul asumsi bahwa masyarakatnya pun gemar membaca.
  
  Lebih jauh lagi disebutkan dalam buku ini, di antara orang Amerika dan orang Inggris pun belum tentu bisa menerima keragaman dalam bahasa satu sama lain yang padahal sama-sama bahasa Inggris.
  
  Buku ini juga mengangkat realita menyedihkan kiwari, tentang semakin sedikitnya orang yang membaca buku. Bahkan sekalipun kita pembaca rakus, yang rajin membeli buku-buku baru, tekanan hidup dewasa ini semakin mempersempit waktu kita untuk membaca.
  
  Di samping topik-topik relatable yang makanya saya sukai itu, buku ini bisa menjadi bacaan yang cukup sulit dan membosankan; khususnya kalau kita kurang mengerti atau tidak berminat terhadap ilmu linguistik, puisi, dan semacamnya.
• 
  Trin

  Interesting account/defense of the art of translation. At times I both sympathized with and was annoyed by how defensive Grossman occasionally became: it’s true that most people, from highly esteemed literary critics down to myself, don’t give translation enough thought, tending to ignore it when it’s done well and mention it only to criticize. (If you go back through my reviews of translated books, I’m sure you will indeed find that where I’ve mentioned the translation/translator at all, it’s to bitch about how clunky it is.) Do translators deserve more credit for what they do? Absolutely. Is translating a book the same as writing one, so that, for example, my copy of
  The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle should read “A Novel by
  Haruki Murakami and
  Jay Rubin”? Every instinct of mine—half readerly, half writerly—screams no no NO.
  
  And yet, as Grossman illustrates in this book—and as the aforementioned Rubin discusses in his quasi-bio,
  Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words—the best translators, the ones whose work is not clunky, are the ones who are not literalists, who do the most shaping and rewriting. Now, I would argue that this is still not the same as writing a novel, but it’s a skill that I would agree is in need of more recognition. (It’s also one involving a degree of license that can be easily abused—I still remember with horror a French translation of
  Neil Gaiman’s
  Neverwhere that I bought in Paris and struggled through back when my French was not so poor; the idiot translator had moved huge chunks of text around and added entirely new scenes. Sacrilege!) So yes, I would say that we should celebrate good translators, and put their names on the covers of books, and mention them in more than a cursory way in reviews, whenever possible. It’s either that or learn lots and lots of other languages.
  
  ...I wish I could do the latter, honestly, because when I start to think too much about how I’ve never really read Murakami or
  Marías or
  Tolstoy—not as they were really written, not truly—I start to feel panicky, like an existential crisis might be coming on. Um. When those instant language-learning chips become available, sign me right up.
• 
  Andreea

  This book is, to put it nicely, pretty useless. It sings praises to translators / translations but it's just so oblivious to the problems involved in translation e.g. cultural appropriation, translators acting as 'guardians' of a certain foreign culture, translators purposely mistranslating texts, especially non-Western ones, to 'clean' them up / do away with references to sex - or, on the contrary, making the texts really 'sensual' (good example for this are the various translations of
  Arabian Nights), it's just extremely frustrating. I'm an amateur translator (if such a thing exists?) - I love moving texts from Romanian to English and vice versa. I love it because it's an interesting creative exercise and I think it sharpens your linguistic / writing skills in many ways - but, at the same time, when I'm translating I am constantly aware of all the problems that come from moving texts from one culture to the other - translation is not just a language game, it's an act of interference with (other) cultures. Grossman ignores the grave importance of this and instead gives a load of watered down liberal humanism nonsense about how we discover the ~universality~ of ~human experience~ through translated texts.
• 
  Max Nemtsov

  Мое глубокое убеждение — переводчик должен переводить, а не разговаривать о переводе. Бывают, конечно, исключения, но они редки — как вот эта книжка, построенная на лекциях, например, но до определенной степени. Эдит Гроссмен, выдающаяся переводчица с испанского на английский, — совершенно наш чувак, и очень многое из того, что она тут говорит, очень точно ложится на картинку переводческого и издательского дела в ръяз-пространстве (надо только заметить Штаты на Россию), — говорит с горечью и желчью, при этом, которые легко переводятся в наши реалии. Приятно иногда эдак ощущать поддержку своих инстинктов с другого берега, нащупывать мысленную опору.
  
  (И все было бы прекрасно, пока речь не заходит о поэзии. Можно сколько угодно помавать руками о тонкостях поэтического перевода, но у Гроссмен в приводимых примерах попросту нет рифмы, а переводит она сонеты XVII века, — и поневоле возникает желание отправить ее с лекторской кафедры не лениться, а исправлять недоделки. Лучше бы о поэзии она вообще не заговаривала, все ощущение портит).
  
  А в целом, хоть ничего принципиально нового она не говорит, я бы смело рекомендовал эту книжку всем коллегам по цеху. Ну чисто вдохновения ради.
• 
  Julia

  
  
  Another brilliant exposé of the cultural world of literature. Edith Grossman writes fluently and insightfully on the role of translation in disseminating seminal literatures across languages.
• 
  Mariana Casement

  4.25
  Very interesting to hear about Grossman's journey as a translator, as well as how it was translating Cervantes' Don Quixote and Spanish poetry.
  I first encountered this book when I was searching for books on translation for a children's book I ended up translating in 2020. However, I only really read the book later, when I was taking a class on Don Quixote de La Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. I was inspired by Cervantes' own take on translation and decided to use several passages of this work to inform me on an essay about translation and Quixote. Although I didn't read Grossman's translation of Don Quixote (I read Jarvis', as well as the original), her perspective and experience were very interesting and inspiring.
  Grossman's take on translating poetry was also very interesting. Since she translates from Spanish to English, she speaks of the importance of understanding and conveying not only the lyricism and meaning of the original poetry, but to keep in mind that traditional metrics will vary from one language to another. For example, most English speakers will know that a common metric used in sonnets is the iambic pentameter, but it isn't a metric that lends itself as well to Latin-based languages, so it wouldn't make sense to use it when translating "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" (Sonnet 18) into Portuguese.
  The less than 5 star review reflects the fact that I don't think it really managed to do what it proposes: explain why translation matters. Rather, Grossman speaks of her own experience and the struggles translators face when trying to have their work recognised. Not to say that she doesn't touch on the subject, she makes several valid points, but her answer to the question doesn't really warrant the length of this work. I understand that she was trying to get people to also see the relevance of translation through her own work and her explanation of it's amazingness, and I personally loved reading about her experience etc, but that wasn't what had been proposed by the series.
• 
  manatee

  An excellent introduction to the joys and difficulties of translation by one of the most famous translators of Latin American literature into English. I learned so much by reading it and am now very fascinated by this invisible art.
  I absolutely loved the examples of poetry that she translated and shows in parallel verse. It was a joy to read and a very thought-provoking experience. It made me want to try my hand at translating some of my favorite rancheras into English.
  
  As an absolute bonus, she provides a list of her favorite translations in literature. I can't wait to tackle this list.
• 
  Ella Feldman

  a delightful introduction to the art of translation perfect for people who have never given it much thought (myself very much included, despite the fact that I love reading books/watching movies originally written in other languages). Edith Grossman is a lovely writer and I absolutely adored Alastair Reid’s “Lo Que Se Pierde / What Gets Lost” — a poem about translation included at the book’s end. the TLDR: put some respect on translation 😤
• 
  Ayşe Saruhan

  Kitap çevirmek kitap yazmak kadar meşakkatli bir süreç. Kitap yazmamış ve çevirmemiş olmama rağmen bu işin zorluğunu buradan hissedebiliyorsam bizzat uygulayan için ne kadar yorucu bir süreçtir.Bu kitapta yazar kitap çevirmeye olan tutkusundan ve hassas olduğu noktalardan öyle güzel bahsetmişki ona katılmamak elde değil.Amerika ve İngiltere üzerinden örnekler verilmiş ama ben ülkemizdeki çeviri kitap okuma oranını da merak ettim doğrusu.Çeviri konusunda yazarın da savunmuş olduğu kitabın kelime kelime çevirisi yerine bağlama uygun çeviriyi mantıklı buluyorum.Güzel bir denemeydi.Her zaman yazara da çevirene de hakkını teslim etmek lazım..
• 
  Boyd

  The second half of this book focuses on specifics of translation and is therefore interesting. The first half, though, is a tiresome screed of the I-don't-get-no-respect variety. Yes, translators are important, and I understand why they'd be aggrieved by the lack of attention paid to the translation itself in book reviews; but what *makes* a good translation, and what sorts of details should reviewers be attending to? Grossman never says. And translators as important as the authors themselves? Pure egomania.
• 
  Linda

  In this thoughtful short book, Edith Grossman, the famed translator of Cervantes and Marquez, explores historical and contemporary notions of what literary translation is and what it does. In making her argument for the importance of translation, she elegantly demolishes a pile of long-standing cliches and misunderstandings about the topic.
• 
  Kevan Houser

  This slim volume (119 pages minus lists, acknowledgments, index, etc.) seems intended more for an academic environment rather than a general reader (which is not a criticism, simply an observation).
  
  The book consists of the following sections: An introduction "Why Translation Matters," followed by three chapters: "Authors, Translators, and Readers Today," "Translating Cervantes" (Grossman is quite well-known for her exceptional new translation of Don Quixote (~2002, I believe), and "Translating Poetry." Additional material includes a short "Personal List of Important Translations."
  
  As others have noted, Grossman exclusively discusses literary translation, so the book may more accurately have been entitled "Why Literary Translation Matters."
  
  I completely agree with the author's premise and believe she effectively builds her case as to the huge cultural importance of literary translation, without which, obviously we would only have access to literature originally written in languages we can personally read, which would limit most Americans' options to just English, or possibly one additional language in a few instances.
  
  (Practically) no American living would be able to read Dante, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Ovid, Homer, Sartre, and Cervantes all in their original languages, so the cultural necessity of translation seems self-evident.
  
  Perhaps less self-evident is the additional fact that translation has enriched our vocabulary. To illustrate, the author provides a list of lexical items etymologically rooted in Gaelic, for example.
  
  I also agree with the author's premise that the reading public and literary reviewers often take for granted the skill and artistry required of translators to recreate a piece of literature in a new language. She elaborates this point throughout the book with numerous anecdotes, quotes, and observations.
  
  The book is certainly well-written and boasts an amazing vocabulary: even the most literate reader will surely be sent scurrying to the dictionary a number of times before finishing the book.
  
  Additionally, the author includes a number of insightful quotes from writers and translators throughout history, including a quote from the translators of the King James Bible in 1611:
  
  "Translation it is that openeth the window, to let in the light; that breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel; that putteth aside the curtain, that we may look into the most holy place; that removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water."
  
  I also completely agree with the author's philosophy of translation. At one point, she states: "... a translator's fidelity is not to lexical pairings but to context—the implications and echoes of the first author's tone, intention, and level of discourse."
  
  As other reviewers have noted, there is some repetition (particularly regarding the observation of how reviewers mostly ignore or discount translations) throughout the short book, perhaps owing to the book's origin as separate talks given (as explained in the author's preface).
  
  At any rate, some good, accurate, informative bits, well written. Translators would find much of interest, but I wouldn't especially recommend this book for the general reader, however, due to its format and style.
• 
  Vince

  Not what I expected.
  
  The final section of this book was valuable to me. It's not exactly an essay on why the translation of poetry is important but rather an insight into Grossman's aims and processes. It was incredibly interesting to read and answered a number of questions I've had about what translators try to do when translating poetry. (It also has me very interested in reading Grossman's translations further, since she seems to succeed at striking a balance between form and meaning, something which seems to easily go awry when poetry is translated).
  
  However, the first parts of this book address the importance of translation only in brief, and repetitively at that; Grossman spends a greater amount of time lamenting the maltreatment of translators and the way translations are handled in reviews. She rightly does not expect all reviewers to be bilingual or to spend their time on line-by-line comparisons between the translation and the original, but then complains that reviewers do not often address whether the translation carries the same nuance, meaning, and feel of the original. While it's no surprise that she does not offer a way for monolingual reviewers to do this, I do wonder what else she expects. Her plaint that translation is the most underappreciated profession in the modern West is also sure to ire a huge number of readers (granted, she probably does not consider many of them to be within her target audience, but that's as insulting).
  
  While she addresses the great discrepancy between the number of translated works published in the Anglosphere and the number of translated works published in other countries, she gives raw numbers only. This passes up a great opportunity to further underscore her point, or at least brings up a tangent of equal importance - the majority of translated works published elsewhere are translated from English, so the same great and important works that are not translated into English also often aren't widely translated into any other language. Surely this is at least as great a dilemma as the dearth of works published in the Anglosphere that originate from elsewhere?
  
  Grossman's research is meticulous, which makes her handful of odd errors and incredibly huge omissions all the more mystifying. After complaining about how American works - and translations into US English - are often anglicised for publication in the UK, she then says that she has encountered no such phenomenon in the reverse direction and can only assume that it happens rarely, if ever. This is quite famously not the case. Works published in the UK (and indeed in any version of English other than American) are Americanised incredibly frequently - from mere title changes (think Sorcerer's stone) to whole paragraphs being excised out of fear of inciting the wrath of the moral minority. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere was Americanised so skillessly that "flatly" became "apartmently" in its first US pressing.
  
  Interesting and informative reading nonetheless, but (but for the last section) not quite what I expected. If this is par for the course, I'm a bit hesitant to check out anything else in the Why X Is Important series.
• 
  Nina

  I didn't realise, when I picked this book off the shelf at Blackwell's in Oxford (sigh, as much as I love e-books, you don't remember where you were when you bought them!), that much of it was dedicated to the translation of poetry. It isn't a field I have much experience in, though I have tried it a few times. So after I first started reading the book back in August 2017, I put it aside and didn't pick it up again until February 2018, at which point I pretty much devoured it in one sitting.
  
  Unsurprisingly, a celebrated translator like Edith Grossman has a way with words. If you're remotely interested in the topic, I highly recommend this book. It is only 119 pages long, so it won't take long to read - and it is time well spent.
• 
  Brooke Salaz

  I must admit disappointment in this work. It came highly recommended by someone I have great respect for but it just didn't do it for me. If you're looking for a dazzling short work on the art of translation, I'd recommend 19 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei. The current book under review struck me as very pedestrian and restating the obvious repetitively. Apologies to my friend. In fairness, the section on her approach to poetry translation and her reasons for different choices probably went beyond my expertise. But again the single simple poem of Wang Wei's and it's various translations knocked me out.
• 
  M

  really enjoyed reading grossman's thoughts about the difficulties involved w translation, although it was repetitive at times. she writes logically and it's a pleasure to be led through the arguments and process. the translating poetry section was great, as was the first -- the title escapes me -- good reminder to seek out some neruda. cemented my excitement for becoming involved w literary translation in some capacity in the future (exciting!!!) (first twinge was reading about deborah smith, translator of the vegetarian by han kang)
• 
  Erik

  "I went back and reread my review of Love in the Time of Cholera which, coincidentally enough, was Grossman’s translation. I breathed a sigh of relief after discovering I didn’t fall into the same condescending tone as the critics she lambasts in Why Translation Matters, but there is definitely more I could have done to address the translation. I also neglected to even mention the translator in my reviews of The Prince and Gods and Heroes; I will endeavor to remedy this in the future." -
  https://thepastduebookreview.com/2017...
• 
  Samantha

  Grossman makes some good points here, and as a fellow translator, I was looking forward to reading this. Unfortunately, all that really comes across for me is page after page of rant. She seems to take a rather lofty approach, which is a bit preachy, and I understand her frustrations, but batting people around the head with them is not going to get them on your side. I kept getting riled up rather than motivated to read translations.
• 
  Sergio Peña

  Lo que se pierde/What Gets Lost
  
  Para nosotros todos, amantes, habladores
  as lovers or users of words
  el problema es éste this is the difficulty.
  Lo que se pierde what gets lost
  no es lo que se pierde en traducción sino
  is not what gets lost in translation, but rather
  what gets lost in language itself lo que se pierde
  en el hecho, en la lengua,
  en la palabra misma