English-language publishing in India is a small world, and as some outside the circle regularly and sometimes resentfully say, it is a closed world - elite, incestuous, blind to the rest, etc. All more or less true, though what degree of blame should attach to "us" is difficult to judge. After all, publishing is not easy in any language, the most visible and talked-about market for books in India is in English, and English publishing is centred on Delhi where always the elite of the nation has been oblivious to the rest. Which is not to make excuses, just to say that English-language publishing does have its own dharma.
Still, the merest glimpse of the diversity and opportunity on the other side of the language line should cause "us" to hang our heads in shame. A two-day children's books event last week funded by the German Book Office, a joint effort of the Frankfurt Book Fair and the German Foreign Office, drew back the curtains of Casa Ingles, just a little bit. Jumpstart has been held annually since 2009 and with a different focus every year. Because the GBO is commercial, translation was on the cards from the beginning - to and from German to start with, so that German publishers could find a way to sell some of their (beautifully made) books in the Indian market. As Jumpstart has grown on the calendar of Indian children's writers, illustrators and publishers, the balance appears to have tipped. This year's edition, "curated" by publishers Anita Roy and Sirish Rao, was titled "Speaking in Tongues", and the focus of the talk was on translation from, to and between Indian languages. For the first time, a Hindi publisher was invited.
As before, Jumpstart was more than talk. There was a masterclass each for children's writers and illustrators, led by an American and a German respectively, attended by perhaps four dozen people. There was also a Book Souk, a speed-dating exercise at which graduates of this one-day masterclass could pitch their work to children's publishers. Therefore, skills-building as well as contacts-making. The GBO plainly takes the long view.
But far more interesting was the talk of translation. Everyone agreed that good translators for children's books - chapter books, picture books, poetry, whatever - are dreadfully rare for English and an Indian language, let alone between Indian languages. So, while a lucky Tamil child may be able to read a handful of books originally in English, he is unlikely to read one from Marathi. Urgently needed: more and better translators, parents who don't balk at buying fiction or fixate on aspirational English, educationists who think it wise that a child should study literature in his own language too, state support for translation work, and so on.
Some of this was articulated by Subir Shukla, a fantastically well-spoken education consultant who has taught in tribal MP for years and now advises state governments on curricula and teaching materials in Hindi. He did more than prescribe, he dug to the root. The point, he said, is to escape the stern and stilted "dhoomrapaan nished" (Smoking Forbidden) model, and teach language using techniques from performance and storytelling, so that the experience is participatory and related to the students' own everyday reality - and thus make fertile the soil for more imaginative publishing, including translations.
One more example from Hindi, the admirable Vani Prakashan, whose translations head Aditi Maheshwari is struggling to have 19 "beautifully illustrated" books on maths and science translated from Malayalam. Vani bought the Hindi rights to Nobel laureate Herta Müller's work and had the books translated. Maheshwari does not believe in using English as bridge language between, in this instance, German and Hindi, but that is just what the translators secretly did. "As a publisher we depend on translators. The Goethe Institute [Germany's cultural arm] gives generous subsidies, and translators are paid well. Even after that they did this." Embarrassing, costly, time-consuming to fix.
So even when the will, vision and money are in place, there's always "chalta hai" to contend with. Good translation in India will take a long time yet.
Still, the merest glimpse of the diversity and opportunity on the other side of the language line should cause "us" to hang our heads in shame. A two-day children's books event last week funded by the German Book Office, a joint effort of the Frankfurt Book Fair and the German Foreign Office, drew back the curtains of Casa Ingles, just a little bit. Jumpstart has been held annually since 2009 and with a different focus every year. Because the GBO is commercial, translation was on the cards from the beginning - to and from German to start with, so that German publishers could find a way to sell some of their (beautifully made) books in the Indian market. As Jumpstart has grown on the calendar of Indian children's writers, illustrators and publishers, the balance appears to have tipped. This year's edition, "curated" by publishers Anita Roy and Sirish Rao, was titled "Speaking in Tongues", and the focus of the talk was on translation from, to and between Indian languages. For the first time, a Hindi publisher was invited.
As before, Jumpstart was more than talk. There was a masterclass each for children's writers and illustrators, led by an American and a German respectively, attended by perhaps four dozen people. There was also a Book Souk, a speed-dating exercise at which graduates of this one-day masterclass could pitch their work to children's publishers. Therefore, skills-building as well as contacts-making. The GBO plainly takes the long view.
But far more interesting was the talk of translation. Everyone agreed that good translators for children's books - chapter books, picture books, poetry, whatever - are dreadfully rare for English and an Indian language, let alone between Indian languages. So, while a lucky Tamil child may be able to read a handful of books originally in English, he is unlikely to read one from Marathi. Urgently needed: more and better translators, parents who don't balk at buying fiction or fixate on aspirational English, educationists who think it wise that a child should study literature in his own language too, state support for translation work, and so on.
Some of this was articulated by Subir Shukla, a fantastically well-spoken education consultant who has taught in tribal MP for years and now advises state governments on curricula and teaching materials in Hindi. He did more than prescribe, he dug to the root. The point, he said, is to escape the stern and stilted "dhoomrapaan nished" (Smoking Forbidden) model, and teach language using techniques from performance and storytelling, so that the experience is participatory and related to the students' own everyday reality - and thus make fertile the soil for more imaginative publishing, including translations.
One more example from Hindi, the admirable Vani Prakashan, whose translations head Aditi Maheshwari is struggling to have 19 "beautifully illustrated" books on maths and science translated from Malayalam. Vani bought the Hindi rights to Nobel laureate Herta Müller's work and had the books translated. Maheshwari does not believe in using English as bridge language between, in this instance, German and Hindi, but that is just what the translators secretly did. "As a publisher we depend on translators. The Goethe Institute [Germany's cultural arm] gives generous subsidies, and translators are paid well. Even after that they did this." Embarrassing, costly, time-consuming to fix.
So even when the will, vision and money are in place, there's always "chalta hai" to contend with. Good translation in India will take a long time yet.
rraote@yahoo.com