Jian Ping's column
Film Title in Chinese
Film Title in Chinese
By Jian Ping
Since the completion of the feature-length documentary movie based on my book Mulberry
Child: A Memoir of China, I've been thinking of a new translation for the film title in Chinese.
Originally, the Chinese translation for the book is "Under the Mulberry Tree: China via the Eyes
of a Young Girl", but I felt it was too long for the film, yet a simple word for word translation didn't
sound right to me either.
In October 2011, Mulberry Child premiered at the Heartland Film Festival in Indianapolis.
Facing the deadline to translate a press release for the official selection of the film at the
festival, I decided to use a translation suggested by a relative: pronounced as "Jie
Hou Qing Yuan", which, ironically, was quite difficult to translate back into English. The phrase
is loaded with multiple meanings. "Life after Traumatic Ordeal" is the closest translation I can
come up with.
Translation is always a re-creative process and a very challenging one. "Lost in translation" is
Since the completion of the feature-length documentary movie based on my book Mulberry
Child: A Memoir of China, I've been thinking of a new translation for the film title in Chinese.
Originally, the Chinese translation for the book is "Under the Mulberry Tree: China via the Eyes
of a Young Girl", but I felt it was too long for the film, yet a simple word for word translation didn't
sound right to me either.
In October 2011, Mulberry Child premiered at the Heartland Film Festival in Indianapolis.
Facing the deadline to translate a press release for the official selection of the film at the
festival, I decided to use a translation suggested by a relative: pronounced as "Jie
Hou Qing Yuan", which, ironically, was quite difficult to translate back into English. The phrase
is loaded with multiple meanings. "Life after Traumatic Ordeal" is the closest translation I can
come up with.
Translation is always a re-creative process and a very challenging one. "Lost in translation" is
almost inevitable when words and sentences in one language are converted into another. I had worked as a translator for four
years in Beijing before coming to the U.S. Most of the translation work I did were film subtitles from Chinese into English.
When it came to translating a film title, there was always the dilemma of doing it literarily or literally. In the early 1980s when
most of the Chinese films produced by the state-owned studios were political propaganda, the translation was even harder
since many political jargons didn't make sense in English.
For many people who are fluent only in one language, the task of translation appeared to be simple: just a matter of words
from one language to another. I remember a former colleague, who worked in the marketing department at the company I
used to work for, once asked me if I could use computer software to translate a marketing campaign from English into
Chinese. He assumed that it should be as simple as pressing a "click" on a computer. Since then, Google has developed a
translator, which, if used to check a single word, is actually pretty good. However, if you put a paragraph or an article for it to
translate, the result could be disastrous — not making any sense at all since each word has multiple meanings and the
intelligence of a computer still cannot select different translation for the same word when it is combined with different words or
phrases.
Over the years since I've been in the U.S., I have read many books in translation, both from Chinese into English or vice versa.
Armed with the advantage of being able to read writings both in their original language and the translation, I know what a
difference translation can make to the original. Once at a class in the Asian Classics Program at the University of Chicago, we
studied 19 different English translations of a classic Chinese poem. The interpretation of each translator to the poem is so
different that it is hard to imagine the English comes from the same source in Chinese!
During a trip to China this month, I had lunch with a couple of my girlfriends. One is a Chinese-medicine-doctor-turned-writer
whose published novel will soon be developed into a 32 series television drama; and the other, a retired English professor at
Jilin University who is now teaching English at a local university. When I mentioned to them my difficulties in finding the right
Chinese translation for my film title, they simultaneously selected the simple and literal translation for Mulberry Child,
Sang hai'er." I was surprised. I thought the phrase "flower child," which is used to refer to the hippies of the 60s in the U.S.,
made the use of "Mulbery Child" an easier selection; however, I never felt it right to use the same phrase in Chinese. Besides,
I used "mulberry" as a metaphor for resilience. I was concerned that the tree would be readily associated with mulberry
plantation for the production of silk, which China is well-known for.
"I don't think so," my author friend, who is fluent in Japanese, said without hesitation. "Sang Hai'er is so poetic and beautiful."
My professor friend readily agreed. She strongly opposed my current translation, saying it was too political and serious.
"Trauma is loaded with accusation," she said. "The Cultural Revolution was not totally bad."
"What?" I was dumbfounded by her comment. I don't know about her family background and personal experience during the
Cultural Revolution, but I know that of her husband's. He was my brother's childhood friend, one of the three "musketeers" I
described in my book.
"You've got to be kidding me," I said. "Are you telling me there is merit about the Cultural Revolution?" I said, sarcastic in my
tone.
"Your view is obsolete," she said. "We look at the Cultural Revolution differently now."
Seeing me wide-eyed, she said our country had learned so much emerging from the ruins of the Cultural Revolution.
"Without the Cultural Revolution, China would be a different country now!" I said, finding her statement hard to accept.
She smiled, a tolerant and understanding expression on her face.
My sister Wen, who took the lead inviting everyone together for our lunch at an expensive restaurant, placed a baked oyster on
each of our plate.
Our discussion came back to the Chinese title of the film.
"I prefer 'Sang Hai'er' because it also gives the viewer to have his or her own interpretation," my professor friend said.
I agreed with that.
I like the sound and simplicity of "Sang hai'er" but was still concerned that it had a different connotation. Their comments were
very reassuring that a literal translation of Mulberry Child could be a solution in Chinese.
I pondered time and again about the Chinese title during the remainder of my stay in China. By the time I returned to Chicago
toward the end of December, I was convinced that I should use the simple translation. To make sure it is a good choice, I
contacted two more Chinese friends in the U.S. for their feedback.
We had some lengthy discussion respectively, including coming up with two alternatives for the translation: one is "Under the
Mulberry Tree," and the other is "Children under the Mulberry Tree." I liked both, however, because the world-renowned director
Zhang Yimou came out with a feature film titled "Under the Hawthorn Tree", I hesitated to use a similar title. We couldn't reach
years in Beijing before coming to the U.S. Most of the translation work I did were film subtitles from Chinese into English.
When it came to translating a film title, there was always the dilemma of doing it literarily or literally. In the early 1980s when
most of the Chinese films produced by the state-owned studios were political propaganda, the translation was even harder
since many political jargons didn't make sense in English.
For many people who are fluent only in one language, the task of translation appeared to be simple: just a matter of words
from one language to another. I remember a former colleague, who worked in the marketing department at the company I
used to work for, once asked me if I could use computer software to translate a marketing campaign from English into
Chinese. He assumed that it should be as simple as pressing a "click" on a computer. Since then, Google has developed a
translator, which, if used to check a single word, is actually pretty good. However, if you put a paragraph or an article for it to
translate, the result could be disastrous — not making any sense at all since each word has multiple meanings and the
intelligence of a computer still cannot select different translation for the same word when it is combined with different words or
phrases.
Over the years since I've been in the U.S., I have read many books in translation, both from Chinese into English or vice versa.
Armed with the advantage of being able to read writings both in their original language and the translation, I know what a
difference translation can make to the original. Once at a class in the Asian Classics Program at the University of Chicago, we
studied 19 different English translations of a classic Chinese poem. The interpretation of each translator to the poem is so
different that it is hard to imagine the English comes from the same source in Chinese!
During a trip to China this month, I had lunch with a couple of my girlfriends. One is a Chinese-medicine-doctor-turned-writer
whose published novel will soon be developed into a 32 series television drama; and the other, a retired English professor at
Jilin University who is now teaching English at a local university. When I mentioned to them my difficulties in finding the right
Chinese translation for my film title, they simultaneously selected the simple and literal translation for Mulberry Child,
Sang hai'er." I was surprised. I thought the phrase "flower child," which is used to refer to the hippies of the 60s in the U.S.,
made the use of "Mulbery Child" an easier selection; however, I never felt it right to use the same phrase in Chinese. Besides,
I used "mulberry" as a metaphor for resilience. I was concerned that the tree would be readily associated with mulberry
plantation for the production of silk, which China is well-known for.
"I don't think so," my author friend, who is fluent in Japanese, said without hesitation. "Sang Hai'er is so poetic and beautiful."
My professor friend readily agreed. She strongly opposed my current translation, saying it was too political and serious.
"Trauma is loaded with accusation," she said. "The Cultural Revolution was not totally bad."
"What?" I was dumbfounded by her comment. I don't know about her family background and personal experience during the
Cultural Revolution, but I know that of her husband's. He was my brother's childhood friend, one of the three "musketeers" I
described in my book.
"You've got to be kidding me," I said. "Are you telling me there is merit about the Cultural Revolution?" I said, sarcastic in my
tone.
"Your view is obsolete," she said. "We look at the Cultural Revolution differently now."
Seeing me wide-eyed, she said our country had learned so much emerging from the ruins of the Cultural Revolution.
"Without the Cultural Revolution, China would be a different country now!" I said, finding her statement hard to accept.
She smiled, a tolerant and understanding expression on her face.
My sister Wen, who took the lead inviting everyone together for our lunch at an expensive restaurant, placed a baked oyster on
each of our plate.
Our discussion came back to the Chinese title of the film.
"I prefer 'Sang Hai'er' because it also gives the viewer to have his or her own interpretation," my professor friend said.
I agreed with that.
I like the sound and simplicity of "Sang hai'er" but was still concerned that it had a different connotation. Their comments were
very reassuring that a literal translation of Mulberry Child could be a solution in Chinese.
I pondered time and again about the Chinese title during the remainder of my stay in China. By the time I returned to Chicago
toward the end of December, I was convinced that I should use the simple translation. To make sure it is a good choice, I
contacted two more Chinese friends in the U.S. for their feedback.
We had some lengthy discussion respectively, including coming up with two alternatives for the translation: one is "Under the
Mulberry Tree," and the other is "Children under the Mulberry Tree." I liked both, however, because the world-renowned director
Zhang Yimou came out with a feature film titled "Under the Hawthorn Tree", I hesitated to use a similar title. We couldn't reach
Jian Ping is author of “Mulberry Child: A Memoir of
China. “ For more information, visit www.moraquest.
com or www.mulberrychild.com. Jian Ping’s blog,
which she keeps with a couple of other authors, is at
www.smearedtype.com.
China. “ For more information, visit www.moraquest.
com or www.mulberrychild.com. Jian Ping’s blog,
which she keeps with a couple of other authors, is at
www.smearedtype.com.
| We Build, Manage, Operate, and Improve Quality Care Systems for Persons with Chronic Health Conditions. For current employment opportunities, please visit: www.tmg-wis.com |
an agreement. In the end, we decided to sleep over it
during the New Year break and make a final choice
with the start of 2012!
Mulberry Child will premiere in California at the Palm
Springs International Film Festival early in January
2012. I am pleased to learn that the tickets for the two
screenings scheduled on January 7th and 10th have
already been sold out! Later in January, Mulberry Child
will have its Chicago premiere at the Gene Siskel Film
Center, part of the "Stranger than Fiction" documentary
series. The Center has selected Mulberry Child
among the ten featured films. We expect the tickets for
all the screenings to be sold out as well.
The press release in both English and Chinese about
the screenings at these film festivals will be sent after
the New Year. A final selection for the Chinese title will
have to be made by then.
during the New Year break and make a final choice
with the start of 2012!
Mulberry Child will premiere in California at the Palm
Springs International Film Festival early in January
2012. I am pleased to learn that the tickets for the two
screenings scheduled on January 7th and 10th have
already been sold out! Later in January, Mulberry Child
will have its Chicago premiere at the Gene Siskel Film
Center, part of the "Stranger than Fiction" documentary
series. The Center has selected Mulberry Child
among the ten featured films. We expect the tickets for
all the screenings to be sold out as well.
The press release in both English and Chinese about
the screenings at these film festivals will be sent after
the New Year. A final selection for the Chinese title will
have to be made by then.