So it appears that Viz has taken the liberty of changing Tatsumi's first name from Seiichiro to Ichiro. As can be expected, wank ensues. I agree with both sides - it's not as big a deal as some fen make it out to be - but I feel that the people who are annoyed by the change are justified, because there's no logical reason for it.
It could be a mistake, in which case, it's sloppy translating and editing, and for the consumers, that sucks.
It could have been changed to better fit the word bubbles, but given the amount of editing that needs to be done for all of Matsushita's asides and marginalia, that doesn't seem likely either.
Or it could be that 'Seiichiro' is deemed too difficult a name for Western readers. This is the sort of assumption that always gets my hackles up, because it means that the publishers assume their audience is stupid, and for the consumers, that sucks too.
The purpose of a translation is to convey, as accurately as possible, the meaning and nuance of the original to people who cannot understand the language in which it was first written. In other words, people read translations because they want access to the original story, not something that sorta maybe kinda resembles the original.
I can see how some terms, especially from the Japanese, would need to be explained to a Western audience, but there's nothing that makes 'Seiichiro' any more difficult a name than 'Ichiro' or 'Tsuzuki,' or 'Daniel,' for that matter.
There's nothing difficult about it. After all, how do people acquire new vocabulary in the first place, if not through contextual clues? (Unless one is prepared to believe that most people read the dictionary cover to cover while building their everyday vocabularies. I'm not.) English adopts words all the time. People talk about 'sushi,' not 'vinegared rice,' and a brochure is a brochure. We don't explain it again in 'familiar' Germanic words.
Of course, the name change doesn't really concern me, because I'm not dependent on the English translations of Yami. But I was extremely irked, once upon a time, to discover that Pterry (and Gaiman and a host of other authors') books were 'edited' for American readers, who would evidently be so disconcerted by the presence of a few unfamiliar British English usages that they'd immediately discard the book and never read again OMG!
Changing 'chuffed' to 'psyched' in the American editions of Harry Potter is pointless. No, many Americans have probably not heard the word used before, but as most Americans manage to discern the meaning of 'psyched' from contextual clues, British English should not pose a problem. Assuming that British and American English usages are mutually unintelligible is needlessly self-conscious. It isn't as if readers (of all people!) suddenly lose the ability to learn unfamiliar terms once they reach a certain age, or open a translated manga. And whether it's changing 'difficult' Japanese names in translated manga, or switching British English to American English, I don't see how it in any way adds to the experience of the read.
これで以上です。
It could be a mistake, in which case, it's sloppy translating and editing, and for the consumers, that sucks.
It could have been changed to better fit the word bubbles, but given the amount of editing that needs to be done for all of Matsushita's asides and marginalia, that doesn't seem likely either.
Or it could be that 'Seiichiro' is deemed too difficult a name for Western readers. This is the sort of assumption that always gets my hackles up, because it means that the publishers assume their audience is stupid, and for the consumers, that sucks too.
The purpose of a translation is to convey, as accurately as possible, the meaning and nuance of the original to people who cannot understand the language in which it was first written. In other words, people read translations because they want access to the original story, not something that sorta maybe kinda resembles the original.
I can see how some terms, especially from the Japanese, would need to be explained to a Western audience, but there's nothing that makes 'Seiichiro' any more difficult a name than 'Ichiro' or 'Tsuzuki,' or 'Daniel,' for that matter.
There's nothing difficult about it. After all, how do people acquire new vocabulary in the first place, if not through contextual clues? (Unless one is prepared to believe that most people read the dictionary cover to cover while building their everyday vocabularies. I'm not.) English adopts words all the time. People talk about 'sushi,' not 'vinegared rice,' and a brochure is a brochure. We don't explain it again in 'familiar' Germanic words.
Of course, the name change doesn't really concern me, because I'm not dependent on the English translations of Yami. But I was extremely irked, once upon a time, to discover that Pterry (and Gaiman and a host of other authors') books were 'edited' for American readers, who would evidently be so disconcerted by the presence of a few unfamiliar British English usages that they'd immediately discard the book and never read again OMG!
Changing 'chuffed' to 'psyched' in the American editions of Harry Potter is pointless. No, many Americans have probably not heard the word used before, but as most Americans manage to discern the meaning of 'psyched' from contextual clues, British English should not pose a problem. Assuming that British and American English usages are mutually unintelligible is needlessly self-conscious. It isn't as if readers (of all people!) suddenly lose the ability to learn unfamiliar terms once they reach a certain age, or open a translated manga. And whether it's changing 'difficult' Japanese names in translated manga, or switching British English to American English, I don't see how it in any way adds to the experience of the read.
これで以上です。
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Matsushita makes a big deal out of names - members of Hisoka's family traditionally have one-character given names, and there are several references/jokes in canon to how old fashioned Tsuzuki and his sister's given names are, so I bet Seiichiro is even older sounding yet.
Not that this is necessarily something the average English reader will pick up on, but then changing his name to Ichiro doesn't add anything to the story either.
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Americanizing English and Canadian books (and articles) is part of the ordinary, regular process of editing for publisher style. It's been common practice forever. This process also runs in reverse; American textbooks are made into Canadian editions, for instance. (Mr. Gonzalez and Ms. Wood become Mr MacDonald and Ms Dubois. :)
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Saiyuki? They did a good job, I thought. My only quibble was calling Sanzo "priest" instead of "monk", but I've seen that in scanslations too, and what do I know anyway?
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About the editing - it just doesn't make sense to me. Do publishers honestly believe that I'll be so thrown by the use of single instead of double quotation marks in dialogue that I'll be unable to read the book in question? Editing as if it would just seems like a whole lot of useless work to me.
And a lot of times, it detracts from the book. HP is a lot more compelling to me in the original British versions than the redacted American editions. As do the Discworld books, and His Dark Materials, and so on.
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This isn't so much a matter of reading comprehension as it is one of consistency. Consistency is the God of All Editing, and there are levels of consistency: within work, within series, within publication, within house (etc., etc.) This is why a work's style sheet is like unto the bible.
Accordingly, regardless of how nice they are in other respects, the TokyoPop books really are little better than fan scanlations. You don't win your shiny pro badge until you create a style sheet and -use- the damn thing. The inconsistencies I'm spotting just within this one volume indicate that TP clearly isn't familiar with the concept, which is a little sad. In the absence of the art onslaught, I expect that readers would find this quite noticeable.
But, y'know, it *is* confusing to be confronted by unfamiliar vocabulary in unexpected venues, particularly in children's books. I went for years believing that a "fruit machine" (from a non-Americanized edition of a book) was a health-conscious European vending machine.
Fanfic writers who feel that "crisps" rather than "potato chips" adds to the overall experience are more likely to buy the British versions. :)
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So what is a fruit machine?
Anyway, that experience of not-quite-full-understanding cuts all sorts of ways. I was bitterly disappointed when I first tasted Turkish delight, and so was a close (and equally Anglophilic) friend of mine. Anyone who's read the description of Turkish delight in The Lion the Witch and The Wardrobe and then tasted the real, icky, pasty-sugary thing can probably understand why. :-)
Though I was offended when they changed "Philosopher's Stone" to "Sorcerer's Stone," and I'm not much of a Harry Potter fanatic. C'mon, people, what was that for??
Experiencing a sudden, disturbing, and altogether inexplicable craving for shrimp cocktail flavored crisps.
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It's a slot machine, I gather. Cherries, lemons, and so on. Context of an amusement park pier didn't make -that- clear at all. Now I smell the whiff of sleaze. ^^;
I was bitterly disappointed when I first tasted Turkish delight
I've never had it. So it's -not- worth betraying god and family for? *disappointed* I'd assumed it must be like carmel until I read the Sayers book where it was part of the denouement of the murder investigation. So I knew then it had to have *yeep, spoiler* of some sort.
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I imagined it as being like the divinest, creamiest kind of fudge in the world (isn't it funny how your imagination fills in the blanks based on whatever your favorite candy is?), but no. Personally, I think the real thing tastes like stale gumdrops smothered in powdered sugar, but YMMV. Maybe I just got a bad batch. ^-^ I believe it's considered quite the delicacy in Israel and other parts of the Middle East.
Then again, sugar takes on a whole new meaning when you spend a ten month winter just south of the arctic circle and it's dark at three in the afternoon.
Hee hee -- I think I would've got fruit machine in the amusement park pier context. What kind of innocent, non-sleazy piers did *you* grow up with?
PS. I'd forgotten all about the Turkish delight bit in Strong Poison... I should add Dorothy Sayers to my interest list.
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Also thinking that just now. Carmel bull's-eyes with cream centers -- only classier somehow. But I'm thinking Turkish Delight still -sounds- sufficiently exotic, Arabian, mysterious, and yummy to meet all one's fantasy candy needs, provided one takes care to avoid the actual experience.
I will now forget about gumdrops.
What kind of innocent, non-sleazy piers did *you* grow up with?
Complete absence of piers. They appear to require water. So they remain piers of the imagination for the most part. . . :)
PS. I'd forgotten all about the Turkish delight bit in Strong Poison...
I'd like to forget it. Powdered donuts, v.v. suspicious! :(
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Yeah, but perhaps this is a function of when the book was written? What with the mass manufacture of food, advances in refrigeration, food preservation, shipping infrastructure, and processed sugar, sweet things are a lot less rare than they used to be. So perhaps the (seemingly to us) overkill of Turkish delight was more of a 'wow I've never tasted anything so sweet!' back in the forties, early fifties?
I thought Turkish Delight would be more of a white chocolate with little jeweled candied bits in it kinda deal. It sure looked pretty in my head.
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So, so, so far off the topic of Yami no Matsuei...
You might have a point there. Then again, the British as a rule are inordinately fond of sugar in general, even now -- I'm convinced that it's a climate thing. Plus, this is the country which, to this day, thinks that Licorice Allsorts are the cat's meow.
Licorice Allsorts, for the uninitiated, are beyond disgusting, and I love licorice. The "allsorts" is because they're all sorts of flavors. All sorts, as in, for example, a peach-flavored marshmallow fluff center in a coconut-flavored jelly, dipped in pink licorice flavor nonpareils -- and every piece a different combination, more horrifying than the last. I wish I were joking.
I ate a whole bag once because I simply couldn't believe that they could all be that bad. They all were.
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Re: So, so, so far off the topic of Yami no Matsuei...
But anyway, don't you be knocking Allsorts now. I may have to regulate. :)
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LOL! Irreconcilable differences alert!!
I graciously permit your deluded preference, since there ain't no accounting for tastes. ^-~
Does this thread take a record for largest number of wholly off-topic comments?
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Re: So, so, so far off the topic of Yami no Matsuei...
I dunno. If we keep trying, perhaps we can jack it up to fifty non-translation related posts. Woo-ha!
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Yeah, yuck. I feel for you, especially if it's anything containing quotations (where I'm assuming a simple find and replace could mess up other forms of punctuation). In fact, how do you edit? I'm assuming you get the book/article in question in an electronic medium, right?
I'm spotting just within this one volume indicate that TP clearly isn't familiar with the concept, which is a little sad.
Where exactly are the inconsistencies? Not having the chance to see much pro transed manga, I'm having a hard time picturing what might be sloppy in the book.
A possibility is that grammar is used to a less grammatic, and more emphatic effect in the originals. "..." is a different emotion than "............", the same with the number of exclamation marks, and so on. So perhaps the translator is just carrying that over?
You haven't quite convinced me about the need to convert from one English usage to another. Words are words; nothing makes divining the meaning of an unfamiliar British English term through context inherently more difficult than doing the same for an unfamiliar American English term. Like you said, as long as the style is consistent throughout the volume, the read should be easy.
The Japanese import English books willy-nilly, so sometimes I have to get the Americanized versions, and those are the hardest to read, because you'll see 'recognised' with an 's' and then again with a 'z' a few pages later, and the same goes for punctuation. Those sort of misses trip me up more than reading in a completely British style (which I didn't even notice existed for about ten years or so).
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Mostly as files these days, yep. Although the pencils come out when Things Go Wrong. As they do tend to. :(
Where exactly are the inconsistencies? Not having the chance to see much pro transed manga, I'm having a hard time picturing what might be sloppy in the book.
It's mainly the use of terms. For instance, honorics are used sometimes, other times not. Terms such as "youkai" and "demon" are used interchangeably, rather than settling on one term. Japanese terms like "ikkou" are defined in the text, but never used again. Characters like Gokuu sometimes are written like BBC announcers, other times very colloquial. These sorts of things -ought- to be consistent, but aren't.
I think it's also sad that the American translation doesn't use "Jeep" as the dragon's name, in that the word was invented by an American comic-strip author. Oh well.
You haven't quite convinced me about the need to convert from one English usage to another.
I do not aim to convince, only to explain. This has been common practice for many, many years. You'll find back to the turn of the century that British and American editions may diverge even in titles. :)
Those sort of misses trip me up more than reading in a completely British style (which I didn't even notice existed for about ten years or so).
That's just bad work. Although, given the way schedules are these days, I expect it will become the norm rather than otherwise.