The approach to translation and to studying translation set out in the following chapters goes under different names. This is not unusual. Many names of movements or currents of thought in the arts, the humanities or the sciences are not the invention of the people most directly concerned but given by outsiders. The Russian Formalist literary critics of the beginning of the twentieth century spoke of themselves as âmorphologistsâ and âspecifiersâ, but their opponents branded them as âformalistsâ. The Cubist painters took their name from a remark made by a hostile reviewer that their canvases looked as if covered with little cubes. When the protagonists of a particular approach themselves make efforts to devise a name and propagate it, there is usually an agenda behind it. They want to stand out, to be recognized as different from some existing approach. The Expressionists wrote and painted in direct opposition to the older Impressionists. Postmodernism and Poststructuralism see themselves emphatically as coming after, and calling into question the assumptions of, Modernism and Structuralism. These names have an oppositional edge to them which allows us to glimpse a programme of action.
The labels attached to the approach which forms the subject of this book are partly donned and partly given by others. We need to sort them out first, without necessarily settling on a single designation.
The term most commonly used is âdescriptiveâ, as in âthe descriptive approachâ or âdescriptive translation studiesâ. It dates from the early 1970s and derives its polemical force from the deliberate opposition to âprescriptiveâ translation studies. Seen in this light the term âdescriptive translation studiesâ signals the rejection of the idea that the study of translation should be geared primarily to formulating rules, norms or guidelines for the practice or evaluation of translation or to developing didactic instruments for translator training. On the positive side âdescriptiveâ points to an interest in translation as it actually occurs, now and in the past, as part of cultural history. It seeks insight into the phenomenon and the impact of translation without immediately wanting to plough that insight back into some practical application to benefit translators, critics or teachers. Because it focuses on the observable aspects of translation, it has also been called âempiricalâ. And because it holds that the investigation of translation may as well start with the thing itself and its immediate environment, i.e. with translations and their contexts rather than with source texts, the term âtarget-orientedâ translation studies also applies, distinguishing this perspective from âsource-orientedâ approaches.
But âdescriptiveâ, âempiricalâ and even âtarget-oriented translation studiesâ are rather unspecific terms. Plenty of work on, say, medieval or eighteenth-century translation, or on linguistic aspects of translation, is descriptive in the sense of being non-prescriptive, empirical in its concern with existing translations, and target-oriented in that it engages with translations rather than the originals which gave rise to them. In the present book the terms refer in the first instance to the approach adopted by the group of researchers who will be introduced in the second part of this chapter; by extension it applies to other work carried out along these lines.
It is a matter of historical accident that the American James Holmes, a pioneer of descriptive translation studies, also proposed in 1972 the name âtranslation studiesâ as the designation, in English, of the scholarly preoccupation, whether theoretical, empirical or applied, with any and all aspects of translation. The term is now commonly used and refers to the entire field of study. Confusingly, however, âtranslation studiesâ has on occasion been taken to mean the specifically descriptive line of approach (for example, in Koller 1990). Fortunately this usage is now rare. In the following pages âtranslation studiesâ means the whole discipline.
The approach known as âdescriptive translation studiesâ is sometimes referred to as the âpolysystem approachâ, after one of its prominent concepts. The term âpolysystemâ was invented by the Israeli scholar Itamar Even-Zohar and has also found application outside the world of translation, especially in literary studies. We can also speak, more broadly, of a âsystemicâ perspective on translation, which would then include other system-theoretic concepts apart from the polysystem concept. It is good to bear in mind, though, that one can perfectly well operate along descriptive lines without taking on board any systems or polysystems ideas.
Occasionally the term âLow Countries groupâ is heard in connection with the approach described here. This is because several of its proponents work in or hail from Flanders and the Netherlands. The term is inappropriate because obviously too narrow. It ignores not only the seminal role played by Gideon Toury and Itamar Even-Zohar together with a number of other Israeli scholars, but also the contributions made by researchers elsewhere in Europe and the United States as well as in Turkey, Korea, Brazil, Hong Kong and other places. Designations like âTel Aviv schoolâ or âTel Aviv-Leuven schoolâ are equally inappropriate, for similar reasons. Descriptive translation studies cannot be reduced to two or three individuals or centres. It is not a unified approach.
Finally, there is the term âManipulation groupâ or âManipulation schoolâ. It derives from the collection of essays called The Manipulation of Literature (Hermans 1985a). The word âmanipulationâ in the bookâs title was suggested by AndrĂŠ Lefevere. The term âManipulation groupâ, coined by Armin Paul Frank (1987:xiii), gained currency through Mary Snell-Hornbyâs account of this approach (1988:22â26) as one of the two main schools of thought in translation studies in Europe in the 1980s. The designation picks up one of the more provocative claims in the introduction to The Manipulation of Literature, to the effect that, from the target perspective, âall translation implies a degree of manipulation of the source text for a certain purposeâ (Hermans 1985a:11).
All the above terms are in use and appear to have entered the first reference works on translation studies (the Dictionary of Translation Studies, Shuttleworth & Cowie 1997, the Routledge Encyclopedia of Translation Studies, Baker 1998, and the Handbuch Translation, Snell-Hornby, HĂśnig et al. 1998). In the following pages I shall employ the designations âdescriptiveâ, âempiricalâ and âtarget-orientedâ approach, âpolysystemsâ and âsystemicâ approach and âManipulation school/groupâ more or less interchangeably, depending on the context. This does not mean that everyone discussed in this book would want to label their own work indiscriminately with any or all of these names; but I trust most can live with most of them.
The descriptive and systemic perspective on translation and on studying translation was prepared in the 1960s, developed in the 1970s, propagated in the 1980s, and consolidated, expanded and overhauled in the 1990s. It introduced itself to the wider world in 1985 as âa new paradigmâ in translation studies (Hermans 1985a:7).
Now, âparadigmâ is a big word. Its deployment at the time was obviously a rhetorical move, designed to highlight the oppositional, novel and radical aspects of the new stance. It sounds somewhat self-conscious, and contains an element of defiance. It might also signal an attempt by its proponents to prove their intellectual credentials by showing an awareness of theoretical issues. The term itself derives from the philosophy of science.
The idea of paradigms was made popular by Thomas Kuhnâs famous book The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, first published in 1962. Although Kuhn did not provide a definition of his key term, for our purposes a paradigm can be understood as âa model of scientific achievement that sets guidelines for researchâ, and as âa means for conducting research on a particular problem, a problem-solving deviceâ (Crane 1972:7, 29). In his book Kuhn rejected the common conception that knowledge in the sciences grows cumulatively, and instead proposed a different and more discontinuous pattern. The normal state occurs in periods of what he called ânormal scienceâ, during which the implications of a particular paradigm are explored. In time an increasing number of paradoxes, incompatibilities, contradictions and unresolved questions may lead to a crisis and to a âparadigm shiftâ, a revolution, when a radically new way of looking is proposed, hotly debated, and finally accepted by at least part of the scientific community as a promising way forward. From that moment onwards research is conducted on a new footing as the new paradigm is explored, which means another period of ânormal scienceâ has begun.
Kuhnâs book is concerned with momentous changes in the history of science. He discusses Copernicus, Newton, Darwin, PoincarĂŠ, Einstein and other giants. To call on his notion of paradigms in the context of translation studies, a discipline of huge ambition but as yet modest dimension and achievement, looks a bit overblown. On the other hand, Kuhnâs book proved so successful that the term has been subject to inflationary use in all sorts of disciplines. In any case, in the postscript which he added to the second edition in 1969, Kuhn pointed out that a revolution âneed not be a large change, nor need it seem revolutionary to those outside a single communityâ (Kuhn 1970:181). In the same postscript he stressed that a paradigm âgoverns, in the first instance, not a subject matter but rather a group of practitioners. Any study of paradigm-directed or of paradigm-shattering research must begin by locating the responsible group or groupsâ (1970:180). If he were to rewrite his book, he added, he would probably put more emphasis on these groups of practitioners than on the abstract notion of a paradigm.
This idea provides me with a convenient point of entry. The paradigm, or, as Kuhnâs postscript also calls it, the âdisciplinary matrixâ (1970:182) to be explained in the following chapters, has undoubtedly proved successful, inspirational, controversial, liberating and problematic, all at the same time. Before we launch into its central ideas, its applications and implications, it will be useful to take Kuhnâs advice and look at the group of practitioners behind it. We have a perfectly appropriate frame for this in Diana Craneâs notion of the âinvisible collegeâ, a network of researchers working within a given paradigm (Crane 1972).
With her âinvisible collegeâ Crane offers a model of the growth and diffusion of knowledge in scientific and scholarly communities. The model, which builds on Kuhnâs work, is applicable to both the sciences and the humanities. The emphasis however is very much on the social organization of research areas and on the role of communities and networks of researchers. The central claim is that scientific and scholarly practice is not a matter of disembodied ideas spontaneously combusting and gaining acceptance from eerily rational minds. There is a social as well as a cognitive aspect to the process. It involves practitioners working in an institutional environment, regular personal contacts and a sense of solidarity, and a material as well as an intellectual infrastructure.
Diana Crane discerns a pattern in the way new ideas and paradigms emerge and spread. She describes this as a contagion process. Seminal ideas are first tried out in a small circle, early enthusiasts then infect others, which leads to an exponential growth in the production of research until a plateau is reached with voluminous output but few new ideas, after which stagnation sets in, followed by decline â and, of course, new sets of different ideas. In other words, when a paradigm runs its natural course, it goes through a series of stages (Crane 1972:40, 67ff):
⢠first, interesting hypotheses, theories, discoveries and methodological principles attract a group of like-minded researchers who reach consensus on key issues;
⢠soon a small number of highly productive individuals develop a theoretical apparatus, set priorities for research, recruit collaborators and train students, and maintain contact with colleagues;
⢠next, we witness an exponential increase in publications and in new recruits, allowing the central ideas to be elaborated and tested;
⢠eventually the novelty wears off, the rate of innovation declines, the exploration of the key ideas loses impetus, theoretical and methodological anomalies open up, some members drop out;
⢠finally the leading researchers develop increasingly specialized interests, or divide into factions over controversial issues; this may result in adjustments and new directions for research, or in breakdown and the eventual emergence of a different paradigm.
In the crucial early stages the guiding ideas are formulated, and they continue to provide the main focus. Their authors are also the ones most frequently cited by fellow researchers. The model stresses the element of solidarity. An invisible college constitutes a personal and intellectual network, with regular informal contacts, joint ventures and publications, frequent cross-referencing in articles and books, and, for the central players, a long-term commitment to the field and to the basic ideas.
The growth and diffusion of the descriptive/systemic/manipulation paradigm in translation studies can be described with almost uncanny ease in terms of Diana Craneâs invisible college.
Among the first exchanges that would lead to the crystallization of a coherent âdisciplinary matrixâ was the meeting of minds, in the 1960s, between the Amsterdam-based American translator and theorist James Holmes and a Czechoslovak group including JiĹĂ LevĂ˝, Anton PopoviÄ and FrantiĹĄek Miko. They were interested in such things as structuralist literary theory, the role of translation as part of literary history, ways of describing differences between translations and originals from stylistic or generic points of view, and the distinctive features of translation in relation to other âmetatextsâ, i.e. texts which speak about existing texts. LevĂ˝ died in 1969, aged 41, PopoviÄ in 1984, and the Czechoslovak group eventually fell silent. By that time however contacts had been established with, on the one hand, Itamar Even-Zohar and his colleague Gideon Toury, two researchers at Tel Aviv University, both with strong theoretical interests, and, on the other, several Flemish academics including JosĂŠ Lambert at Leuven University, Raymond van den Broeck, who worked at a translator training institute in Antwerp, and AndrĂŠ Lefevere, who had studied at Essex University, taught briefly in Hong Kong and then at Antwerp, and would later settle in Austin, Texas.
The decisive stage of theory formation occurred during a series of three relatively small-scale conferences, all held in English. The first took place in Leuven in 1976, the second in Tel Aviv in 1978, and the third in Antwerp in 1980. The proceedings of the first conference were published as Literature and Translation (Holmes, Lambert & Van den Broeck 1978), those of the second in a special issue of the journal Poetics Today (vol. 2, no. 4, 1981, edited by Even-Zohar and Toury), and those of the third in the Michigan-based semiotics journal Dispositio (vol. 7, nos. 19â21, 1982, edited by Lefevere). The names of the conference organizers and proceedings editors are those of the key figures in the descriptive and systemic paradigm. Others who attended and/or spoke at one or more of the conferences and continued to be associated with the group include Susan Bassnett (Warwick University), Katrin van Bragt (Leuven), Lieven Dâhulst (Leuven and then Antwerp), Zohar Shavit (Tel Aviv), Maria Tymoczko (Massachusetts), Shelly Yahalom (Tel Aviv) and Theo Hermans (Warwick and then London). Among slightly later recruits are Dirk Delabastita (Leuven and subsequently Namur), Saliha Paker (Istanbul), Theresa Hyun (Seoul, Toronto) and others.
The early years saw the emergence of a personal network and the elaboration of a consensus on key ideas. Bearing the âinvisible collegeâ model in mind, it is striking that despite their international dispersion members of the network share a number of obvious features. All have been involved in university-based research and possess a background in literary studies, with an active interest in comparative literature and literary history. The growth of the paradigm also coincided with personal career patterns. Of the old guard, Even-Zohar, Lefevere, Van den Broeck and Lambert had gained their doctorates around 1970 with dissertations on either translation or comparative literature topics. Around the mid 1970s they could still be regarded as young Turks, eager to make their mark. All the others mentioned in the previous paragraph obtained their PhD degrees in the course of the 1970s or later, and most went on to tenure tracks and professorial chairs in the 1980s and â90s. Clearly, the diffusion of the paradigm owes much to this upward academic mobility and the opportunities created by it.
In the paradigmâs early, formative stages most of the key texts, including Even-Zoharâs Papers in Historical Poetics (1979) and Touryâs In Search of a Theory of Translation (1980) as well as the three collections of conference papers, appeared in quite obscure publications. This made group solidarity doubly important, in the form of cross-referencing, joint editing or writing ventures and a collective profile. It also contributed to the atmosphere within the network, whose members preferred to see themselves as radical, innovative, combative and theoretically sophisticated. The example of the Russian Formalist circles was never far away. Lambert and Lefevere were aware of the Russian Formalist writings which had reached the West in the 1960s; Even-Zohar would quote them in Russian. Individuals brought their own expertise and interests: Even-Zohar had his polysystem hypothesis, Toury his empirical emphasis, Lambert a large-scale research project on translation history, Lefevere a preoccupation with philosophy of science, and Holmes a synthetic view spanning the theory and practice of translation. The chemistry worked.
Expansion followed. Susan Bassnettâs introductory Translation Studies (1980, revised 1991), which became popular, bore traces of the new approach; its index featured Holmes, Lefevere, LevĂ˝ and PopoviÄ, alongside more traditional names like Catford and Eugene Nida, as the modern translation scholars most frequently mentioned. In 1985 The Manipulation of L...