Walking the linguistic tightrope: a day in the life of a translator

When I was in Berlin last weekend, I had an epiphany. I then decided to take this apparently meaningless picture. You see, the most important part of the picture is the mismatched shoes, down in the corner. However at eye level, the placards only provide captions: Italien und Deutschland, Italy and Germany. Today I’ll write about Italian and German, but I’m sure it applies to any language pair.

A tale of two languages

Working with Italian and German simultaneously is a unique experience that challenges and stimulates the mind in equal measure. These two languages, with their distinct characteristics and cultural backgrounds, create an interesting duality in my daily work.

I took this picture on Saturday. On Sunday, I had lunch with a friend who translates literature from Arabic to Italian. She lives in Berlin but doesn't know much German, so she was eager to share her observations with me. "Why do German people always look super interested in what you're saying?" she asked. "They stare at you until you've finished your sentence!"

At first, I joked about it—stressing how Italian is more emotional than German, especially when words are emphasized with body language. I pointed out how we tend to interrupt each other when speaking. And staring at people is something I have to be mindful of when I’m abroad. It’s normal and kind to maintain eye contact during a conversation, so Italians don’t mind staring at strangers too.

The truth is that I was impressed by her question. I explained that her observation probably stemmed from the structure of the German language itself. When speaking, you're likely to use complex sentences rather than simple, paratactic ones. In German subordinate sentences, the main verb is usually placed at the very end.

"It's like you're putting off the most important information until the last possible moment," I told her. "So Germans are trained to listen attentively until the very end of a sentence to grasp its full meaning."

This little exchange perfectly encapsulates why I love my work. It's these linguistic quirks, these cultural nuances expressed through language, that make the dance between Italian and German so fascinating. There’s beauty in contrast Yet, it's precisely this contrast that makes my work so rewarding. The interplay between these two linguistic worlds offers insights and perspectives that monolingual speakers might never experience. It's like having a secret key to understanding two distinct ways of perceiving and expressing the world.

I've come to appreciate how the fluidity of Italian can soften the edges of a technical German text, making it more accessible and engaging. On the other hand, the precision of German often helps me distill the essence of a flowery Italian passage, revealing its core message with crystal clarity.

Embracing the mismatch So, while my daily linguistic journey might feel like walking with mismatched shoes, I've learned to embrace this unique gait. It's a reminder of the beautiful diversity of human expression and the bridges we can build between cultures through language.

Let’s celebrate our mismatched linguistic shoes. They may make us conscious about them, they may make us stand out in a crowd, but they'll take us on adventures we never imagined. Me? I'll keep dancing between my Italian and German worlds, following the lead of my mismatched shoes.

A day in the life of a translator edited by Kate Lindsey.