Under the lime trees

While doing research for a project, I came across this 1997 review of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s novel Petrolio . It was amusing, and since I’m from the future, I can answer this question:

Is there any chance that, with the alleged collapse of Communism in the Western world, no one will ever again dismiss his or her adversary as being “bourgeois”?

And the answer is no, reviewer, there was and is no chance of that happening.

But my reason for sharing this particular review is its terse commentary on the Italian-to-English translation:

Translator Ann Goldstein was heroic in her herculean undertaking. But twice she has a character smelling the scent of “lime” trees. As once the owner of Italy’s only lime tree, (imported from Los Angeles) I think she meant “linden” (Tilia europea).

That’s all he says about the translation — basically, “She did a pretty good job, but I spotted an error!” Bear in mind, reader, that this book is 470 pages long and everyone makes mistakes. Also, many dictionaries offer “lime” as a translation for that tree. Here’s a German-English example:

And hey, the same thing happens in Italian-English dictionaries:

And to further complicate matters, Wikipedia says: “Note that the tree species known in Britain as lime trees (Tilia sp.), called linden in other dialects of English, are broadleaf temperate plants unrelated to the citrus fruits.” Seems like Ann Goldstein could make a solid argument in defense of “lime.”

The problem with reviewing translations is that nitpicking errors is easy. And it makes us feel smart. So we (myself included) tend to do a lot of it. (And sometimes they aren’t even errors!) It’s harder to articulate what, precisely, is good about a given translation. With that in mind, Katy Derbyshire, a well-known literary translator from German into English, solicited thoughts from colleagues around the world on what makes a translation great. Check out the resulting article here.