We're translating an SF novel into English. As the source language differs significantly from English, we've encountered many challenges. The biggest one is a narration technique that looks like a cross between traditional inner speech (= voiced thoughts of the character) and usual author's narration. It works fine in the source language, but if it's translated literally, it confuses the readers as they simply don't understand who is speaking.
The solution to that challenge found by the translator is transforming such mixed narration into usual inner speech and marking it with italic without using quotation marks. I would appreciate it if you read the excerpt and tell how you comprehend it. Does it looks naturally in English? Or does it make the text more difficult to read?
Of course, other suggestions would be appreciated as well.
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“How is it going at work?”
Tsukka shrugged imperceptibly. She was in no mood to answer trite questions. Surely, Stepmother doesn't not even expect an answer. What can ever happen to a department-store salesgirl at work? Nothing but customers, shelves, shop windows, legs tired by the end of the day, and ever-hurting lips because of that artificial smile I have to wear all the time.
Absentmindedly she pushed the rice around the plate, picked a shrimp and put it into her mouth. How should I tell them? Dad really cares about me, and so does Stepmother – to an extent. Of course, Tanna's own children come first but she is genuinely trying to take care of me as well – insofar as it might be possible to take care of another person's child who has already come of age. Isn't it funny? It seems that the real challenge is not to make up my mind but rather to tell parents about your decision.
Stop this self-torture.” she scolded herself. “You have to tell them, and it has to be done today. So just bite the bullet and get it done. You have decided not to remain a burden anymore, haven't you? Good. Now just behave like a grown-up person you are.
“Dad! Mom.” She raised her head and put the fork on the table with a clang. “I want to tell you that...” She felt a lump in her throat and stopped short. One more sentence, and I shall be fully committed.
“Yes, my dear.” Father took his eyes off the newspaper. Rinrin and Tars stopped elbowing each other and were staring at their sister expectantly. Tanna did not react in any way as she kept chewing the rice. The stepmother seemed as exhausted as Tsukka herself. The girl felt a pang of guilt: after all, Tanna
was the one assuming responsibility for the household.
“I...Well, I decided it's time to move out. I am a grown-up and I earn my own living. Yesterday my sales manager said that my allowance would be raised...a bit. So...Well, I decided I could afford renting a room.”
“Don't be silly, dear.” Father shook his head in disapproval. “You already have a room in our apartment. Why waste money?”
He put the newspaper aside.
“I told you, Tsu: you aren't imposing. Yes, you a big girl – time sure does fly!But it doesn't mean you have to leave or we should throw you out. I know, you still can't get over this university flop. Never mind, a year will pass soon enough. Next winter you'll be accepted for sure!”
“Dad, you don't understand!” on the brink of tears, Tsukka clenched her fists. “I mean, I am really an adult. I must assume responsibilities. If I keep relying on you and Tanna, I won't be able to prepare for the exams as I should. I'll be doing nothing but drifting through life – your house, my husband's house, kids, kitchen, shopping... I want to become self-reliant!”
“You mean, you are leaving right now?” Father asked perplexedly. “Tanna, tell her!”
“I can but repeat what your Dad said: don't be silly, Tsukka.” the stepmother gave her a weary look. “True, sooner or later the young must leave the nest but there is no need to decide in such a rush. Even if you want to be on your own, you don't have to plunge headlong into your independence. Stay at least until tomorrow – it will be easier to move on your day off. Or maybe you'll give it another thought and decide to stay. Really, there is no urgency there.”
That's exactly what scares me: that I might think better of it and decide to stay. That I will run out of courage and give in to Dad's persuasion.
“No, I won' change my mind.” the girl shook her head. “Rinrin and Tars are already big enough to occupy separate rooms. Rinrin can move into mine, my bed will suit her well, and there is a desktop there, too. Me, I've packed my bag – took some bedding to last me at first, ok? - and I'll go now. Tomorrow I have a bonus day-off, I have earned a few by working overtime – that will help to settle down at the new place. If I stay until tomorrow, I won't get there before noon. The landlord won't be happy about it.”
“But Tsu...” Father blinked helplessly, and the girl shuddered suddenly realizing how old and shattered he was looking today. Oh, Dad, I hope you aren't struggling at work...
“No, Dad.” the girl moved her plate aside and got up with a look of determination on her face. “I have to. I am sorry it happened so...so suddenly but my mind is made.”
She went out of the kitchen, down the short hallway. The door to the left leads to her room. Her former room. Nothing has changed inside since yesterday but somehow the room was foreign to her. Not hers anymore.
She looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. A low bed by the wall. A desktop right next to the window – looking orphaned now, without its usual stacks and piles of chaotically scattered paper and stuff. An ancient terminal – not even a terminal but a real computer with at length unused software once built into its bowels. Shelves with old and long forgotten paper-books, mostly juvenile – just in time for her siblings to start reading them – and some equally old textbooks clinging to each other: Physics for Undergraduate Applicants, Principles of Mathematics, Calculus... I should pick them up later. Or should I? I have already failed once as a result of using them for preparation: university training programs are different now, and modern training aids are all computer-based. So I'll have to save for a new terminal. On the floor, an old, threadbare carpet depicting a yellowish-green rhomb on a white background. A couple of chairs. A half-empty closet.
And a bag. A big travel bag, fully stuffed: several dresses, bedding and lingerie, a metal-plate engraving – a silver tree on a hill with a golden sunset in the background – shoes, a pelephone, and all those bits and pieces you somehow can not take heart to part with. An out-of-place foreign object that has turned her long-time shelter from life's trials and tribulations into a barely familiar room.
Stop it! Enough of that rubbing-in and self-torturing. What's done – done. Tsukka picked up the bag and, half-bent to one side because of its heavy weight, went out to the hallway. Her parents were already waiting there. Brother and sister, in a much quieter mood now, peeped out of the kitchen.
“Tsu,” her father put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her sadly. “Maybe you'll reconsider? At least, stay until tomorrow.”
He drew back and looked into her eyes, “You won't forget us, will you? You will visit? Call?”
“Yes, Dad.” - She nodded fighting off impending tears. “I will, for sure. And you come to visit me, too.”
She put her sandals on quickly, flung the door open, picked up her bag and went out. On the stairs she turned her head to look at her family one more time. Her father, stepmother, brother and sister were looking at her through the door-frame – as if from a different life, one that was sweet and reassuring.
In that life the child that she was could run to her father, climb onto his knees and, weeping bitterly, show him her finger with a black shadow of a splinter under a nail. In that life the golden light coming out of the windows in the evening darkness promised a safe shelter from miseries and foes. In that life the morning sun would dazzle her sleepy eyes, and the ticking alarm-clock on the table would lull her gently to slumber.
It's all gone. The future is cold and unsure, and, to begin with, I will have to learn how to live alone. I will return to my dark and empty room in a big house, greet my neighbours – lonely girls like myself – in the hallway of our shared apartment, pay my rent once in a timespan to the indifferent landlord, and pay my bills. That's the future I'll have to get used to.
She waved her farewell and trudged down the stairs.
The solution to that challenge found by the translator is transforming such mixed narration into usual inner speech and marking it with italic without using quotation marks. I would appreciate it if you read the excerpt and tell how you comprehend it. Does it looks naturally in English? Or does it make the text more difficult to read?
Of course, other suggestions would be appreciated as well.
--------------------
“How is it going at work?”
Tsukka shrugged imperceptibly. She was in no mood to answer trite questions. Surely, Stepmother doesn't not even expect an answer. What can ever happen to a department-store salesgirl at work? Nothing but customers, shelves, shop windows, legs tired by the end of the day, and ever-hurting lips because of that artificial smile I have to wear all the time.
Absentmindedly she pushed the rice around the plate, picked a shrimp and put it into her mouth. How should I tell them? Dad really cares about me, and so does Stepmother – to an extent. Of course, Tanna's own children come first but she is genuinely trying to take care of me as well – insofar as it might be possible to take care of another person's child who has already come of age. Isn't it funny? It seems that the real challenge is not to make up my mind but rather to tell parents about your decision.
Stop this self-torture.” she scolded herself. “You have to tell them, and it has to be done today. So just bite the bullet and get it done. You have decided not to remain a burden anymore, haven't you? Good. Now just behave like a grown-up person you are.
“Dad! Mom.” She raised her head and put the fork on the table with a clang. “I want to tell you that...” She felt a lump in her throat and stopped short. One more sentence, and I shall be fully committed.
“Yes, my dear.” Father took his eyes off the newspaper. Rinrin and Tars stopped elbowing each other and were staring at their sister expectantly. Tanna did not react in any way as she kept chewing the rice. The stepmother seemed as exhausted as Tsukka herself. The girl felt a pang of guilt: after all, Tanna
was the one assuming responsibility for the household.
“I...Well, I decided it's time to move out. I am a grown-up and I earn my own living. Yesterday my sales manager said that my allowance would be raised...a bit. So...Well, I decided I could afford renting a room.”
“Don't be silly, dear.” Father shook his head in disapproval. “You already have a room in our apartment. Why waste money?”
He put the newspaper aside.
“I told you, Tsu: you aren't imposing. Yes, you a big girl – time sure does fly!But it doesn't mean you have to leave or we should throw you out. I know, you still can't get over this university flop. Never mind, a year will pass soon enough. Next winter you'll be accepted for sure!”
“Dad, you don't understand!” on the brink of tears, Tsukka clenched her fists. “I mean, I am really an adult. I must assume responsibilities. If I keep relying on you and Tanna, I won't be able to prepare for the exams as I should. I'll be doing nothing but drifting through life – your house, my husband's house, kids, kitchen, shopping... I want to become self-reliant!”
“You mean, you are leaving right now?” Father asked perplexedly. “Tanna, tell her!”
“I can but repeat what your Dad said: don't be silly, Tsukka.” the stepmother gave her a weary look. “True, sooner or later the young must leave the nest but there is no need to decide in such a rush. Even if you want to be on your own, you don't have to plunge headlong into your independence. Stay at least until tomorrow – it will be easier to move on your day off. Or maybe you'll give it another thought and decide to stay. Really, there is no urgency there.”
That's exactly what scares me: that I might think better of it and decide to stay. That I will run out of courage and give in to Dad's persuasion.
“No, I won' change my mind.” the girl shook her head. “Rinrin and Tars are already big enough to occupy separate rooms. Rinrin can move into mine, my bed will suit her well, and there is a desktop there, too. Me, I've packed my bag – took some bedding to last me at first, ok? - and I'll go now. Tomorrow I have a bonus day-off, I have earned a few by working overtime – that will help to settle down at the new place. If I stay until tomorrow, I won't get there before noon. The landlord won't be happy about it.”
“But Tsu...” Father blinked helplessly, and the girl shuddered suddenly realizing how old and shattered he was looking today. Oh, Dad, I hope you aren't struggling at work...
“No, Dad.” the girl moved her plate aside and got up with a look of determination on her face. “I have to. I am sorry it happened so...so suddenly but my mind is made.”
She went out of the kitchen, down the short hallway. The door to the left leads to her room. Her former room. Nothing has changed inside since yesterday but somehow the room was foreign to her. Not hers anymore.
She looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. A low bed by the wall. A desktop right next to the window – looking orphaned now, without its usual stacks and piles of chaotically scattered paper and stuff. An ancient terminal – not even a terminal but a real computer with at length unused software once built into its bowels. Shelves with old and long forgotten paper-books, mostly juvenile – just in time for her siblings to start reading them – and some equally old textbooks clinging to each other: Physics for Undergraduate Applicants, Principles of Mathematics, Calculus... I should pick them up later. Or should I? I have already failed once as a result of using them for preparation: university training programs are different now, and modern training aids are all computer-based. So I'll have to save for a new terminal. On the floor, an old, threadbare carpet depicting a yellowish-green rhomb on a white background. A couple of chairs. A half-empty closet.
And a bag. A big travel bag, fully stuffed: several dresses, bedding and lingerie, a metal-plate engraving – a silver tree on a hill with a golden sunset in the background – shoes, a pelephone, and all those bits and pieces you somehow can not take heart to part with. An out-of-place foreign object that has turned her long-time shelter from life's trials and tribulations into a barely familiar room.
Stop it! Enough of that rubbing-in and self-torturing. What's done – done. Tsukka picked up the bag and, half-bent to one side because of its heavy weight, went out to the hallway. Her parents were already waiting there. Brother and sister, in a much quieter mood now, peeped out of the kitchen.
“Tsu,” her father put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her sadly. “Maybe you'll reconsider? At least, stay until tomorrow.”
He drew back and looked into her eyes, “You won't forget us, will you? You will visit? Call?”
“Yes, Dad.” - She nodded fighting off impending tears. “I will, for sure. And you come to visit me, too.”
She put her sandals on quickly, flung the door open, picked up her bag and went out. On the stairs she turned her head to look at her family one more time. Her father, stepmother, brother and sister were looking at her through the door-frame – as if from a different life, one that was sweet and reassuring.
In that life the child that she was could run to her father, climb onto his knees and, weeping bitterly, show him her finger with a black shadow of a splinter under a nail. In that life the golden light coming out of the windows in the evening darkness promised a safe shelter from miseries and foes. In that life the morning sun would dazzle her sleepy eyes, and the ticking alarm-clock on the table would lull her gently to slumber.
It's all gone. The future is cold and unsure, and, to begin with, I will have to learn how to live alone. I will return to my dark and empty room in a big house, greet my neighbours – lonely girls like myself – in the hallway of our shared apartment, pay my rent once in a timespan to the indifferent landlord, and pay my bills. That's the future I'll have to get used to.
She waved her farewell and trudged down the stairs.
