I posted to a light-hearted blog called Fucked Translation over on Blogger from 2007 to 2016, when I was often in Barcelona. Its original subtitle was “What happens when Spanish institutions and businesses give translation contracts to relatives or to some guy in a bar who once went to London and only charges 0.05€/word.” I never actually did much Spanish-English translation (most of my work is from Dutch, French and German) but I was intrigued and amused by the hubristic Spanish belief, then common, that nepotism and quality went hand in hand, and by the nemeses that inevitably followed.
With alien hordes roaming the streets, desperate for a leak, Cazorla Council cracked open the piggy bank and commissioned this marvellous sign: But is the target audience English- or French-speaking? And, since the verbal and iconic messages aren’t coordinated (users don’t immediately associate the arrow and icon on the left with the words on the…
Avert your eyes, epilepsy sufferers, as the Flash animations load, but stay on for the fucked goodies on the Bohórquez family estates, “where the brave bull wanders”, “the horse gallops to his whim”, and everybody else simply skips to their Lou as the sun withdraws discretely behind the “intricate skirted passages of ever bloomed plant…
The Ayuntamiento de Jerez gets EU money to assist with tourist promotion, but professional translators won’t work with it because it never pays on time. So instead of employing someone who can speak English and knows how to use a spellcheck, translation jobs seem to go to some witless illiterate at town hall who may,…
The chief of police of this small tourist town has apparently published an English version of the municipal bylaws. Among other things he wants you to do is to “Alter public order and tranquillity with scandals, disturbances, brawls and noise.” Will fucked translation constitute an adequate defence for British hooligans? Is the council–whose income from…
MM points out that “Our Mrs of” is a popular variant on the web (289 ghits), although still not quite as popular as “Our Lady of” (7,360,000 ghits). “Our mistress of” doesn’t sound quite as strange to native readers of dismal Tolkien epigonism, but let’s use the net to promote “Our Mrs of”, “Jesus Christ…
The most heartbreaking experience I’ve had recently was watching a smallholder digging up the vines he planted during the 60s and 70s boom. Brussels used to pay him subsidies to plant, but now they’ve said that he’ll only be able to earn money by destroying what they regard as his means of production but which…