Interview with Jean-Christophe Salaün (France), literary translator for Icelandic-French: He tells us about his craft, Icelandic literature and his life as an artist and translator

Jean-Christophe Salaün and his oeuvre!

 

"In the end it’s just love. You can’t explain love. You shouldn’t explain love." Truer words have rarely been spoken! Read more about Jean-Christophe and his insights into translating, writing and Icelandic literature:

 

Hi JC, welcome to my blog! I'm happy to talk to you and look forward to what you have to say.

1) You and I met way back in 2006. A lot has changed since then but a lot has remained the same. You are now a professional literary translator and you translate Icelandic literature into French. When did Icelandic literature become so popular in France? And why? And to what type of people does Icelandic literature appeal the most – in France I mean?

First of all, thank you for inviting me to speak a little bit about what I do!

Icelandic literature probably started becoming popular with Arnaldur Indriðason’s first translation, published by Éditions Métailié in 2005. Before that, I remember it being pretty hard to even find contemporary Icelandic literature in French bookstores. Nordic crime novels had already drawn some attention, but what’s interesting is that word of mouth also led some authors that didn’t write in this specific genre to reach success – like Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir or Jón Kalman Stefánsson, who are both extremely popular in France today.

It’s hard to explain why, because we each have a very personal relation to literature. I think part of the appeal is the Icelandic nature and general atmosphere, which plays such an important part in many novels. Icelandic authors write a lot about Iceland, as expected, and I think French readers like to discover this country, which still has a certain aura of mystery, through the eyes of their writers. What a lot of readers like is also the influence of poetry, which can be felt even in the most straight-forward narrative book. It’s simple yet evocative, and it brings color to the darkest themes. Icelandic literature is also usually quite slow-paced, authors like to take their time and dwell a little in the inner life of their characters, which makes them all the more relatable. I would add that Icelandic authors are usually good at avoiding clichés, which makes their books unpredictable. And therefore exciting to read.

There used to be a time when Icelandic literature only attracted a very small minority of curious readers. Today, I think that, at all times, there’s at least one Icelandic title in the French best-seller list. So readers come from a variety of backgrounds and all have a different approach to literature. Some read for pure entertainment, others yearn for complex considerations about life and death. Others might be looking for the book that will change their life. Who knows? In any case, I think it’s wonderful that such a rich and colorful literature has reached a wider audience.

2) What is the most challenging book you've ever translated and why?

Probably The Woman at 1000° (Konan við 1000°, or La femme à 1000° in French) by Hallgrímur Helgason, which happened to be my first translation. It was a long book, for starters (over 600 pages in the French edition), filled with very Icelandic references, a creative use of language and a lot of puns. Hallgrímur Helgason has a unique and rich style, and he loves to play with words. But it was such a wonderful experience, because it showed me the amount of creativity you need to put into a literary translation. It goes far beyond manipulating languages and trying to make everything fit together smoothly. You need to reinvent a writing, the way a character expresses themselves, in a style that is coherent with the original book. Aside from that, it’s such a powerful novel. Years later, it still haunts me.

 More recently, I had to translate Hans Blær (Troll, in French) by Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl, which was a completely different challenge. The main character was born intersex and expresses themselves with non-binary pronouns. This sparked a certain number of problems in French, which is probably an even more binary language than Icelandic. For starters, we don’t have a neutral grammatical gender, so adjectives are either masculine or feminine (aside from a few which have the same form in both genders). The character and narrator Hans Blær also expresses themselves in a unique, very provocative way – and to work, these provocations must have a specific rhythm. In addition to that, I had to do quite a lot of research about queer and gender issues. I had always been interested in these questions, but this was a much deeper dive into them. Once again, it’s a very powerful novel that I feel very passionate about, and it still sits with me. It was one of the strongest reading experiences I’ve had. This book made me so uncomfortable, it questions so many things, while developing very touching and troubled characters. I absolutely loved it.

 3) What are the top 3 books you've translated and, as you probably expected: Why?

 It’s hard to choose, I feel like I’ve had a strong connection with every one of my translations. When you spend weeks or even months with a book, almost inside the author's mind, it just stays with you. I will start by picking La matière du chaos (Elín, ýmislegt) by Kristín Eiríksdóttir. It tells the story of Elín, a seventy-year-old prop maker whose life revolves around work, she has very little connection with people around her. She agrees to work on a new play written by nineteen-year-old Ellen Álfsdóttir, who is the illegitimate daughter of a famous writer. They have actually met in the past, in tragic circumstances, and as Elín is slowly losing hold of her memories, this encounter will spark remnants of past trauma. It's beautifully written, very symbolic and powerful, as well as skilfully structured. I really hope I get to translate more by Kristín Eiríksdóttir in the future.

 J’ai toujours ton cœur avec moi (Segulskekkja in Icelandic) by Soffía Bjarnadóttir also remains among my favorites. I instantly fell in love with her dark and poetic writing. It tells the story of Hildur, a woman who just lost her mother and goes back to Iceland to say her final goodbye to her. She had a traumatic childhood due to her mother’s mental illness, and the book tells her journey toward peace with such emotion, such depth (especially considering it’s a quite short novel) that it struck a chord in me. I love complex family stories. They are at the core of the literature I enjoy the most. It was the first time I recommended a book to a publisher, and I’m very happy that Zulma, the French publishing house, decided to trust me. They are well known for the quality of their publications. It was a beautiful experience.

 And then I’ll choose the translation I’m currently finishing: Bróðir (Brother) by Halldór Armand. Once again, a family story is at the forefront of this beautiful and unusual novel. It’s hard to say anything about it without revealing too much, as everything is intricately tied together. Let’s just say it’s the tale of the dramatic relationship between a brother and a sister after their mother died of cancer. By a series of consequences, this tragic death will lead to a determining event that will seal both their destinies. Halldór Armand’s writing is a like a wave that comes and goes, but you never really know how strongly it will hit you. It’s emotional, poetic, at times almost epic and can also be very funny. It was a big translation challenge, as there are for example quite a few passages which are written in verse, but I’d take it again anytime.

 4) How do you choose a project? Is it suggested to you by publishers or do you suggest to them? Is it more intuition or ratio when you choose a book?

 Most often, publishers ask me to read a book that Icelandic publishers or agents have recommended to them. I have to give them an honest opinion, and then based on that, they decide if they want to buy the rights to it or not. So usually, I’m not the one who chooses. Projects kind of choose me! But sometimes, I do make a recommendation, and the publisher decides to trust my judgement. It’s also happened that I had an author’s name I wanted to recommend at the back of my mind but hadn’t had time to do it yet, and a publisher ended up asking me to read one of their novels. It’s the case with Halldór Armand.

I think intuition plays a strong part in choosing a book I want to recommend. It’s what we call “coup de cœur”, something that makes your heart stop for a second. But then I also wonder if it makes sense to translate this book into French. That’s when reason takes over. If it’s too specifically Icelandic, if it’s too experimental or out of reach, I understand it’s hard for publishers to defend it. Even though I personally love experimental or conceptual literature (whatever that means!). I also understand translating a book is costly, it’s a risky investment, and therefore publishers have to make hard choices.

 5) Literary translations are not easy. How do you translate? What is your method or approach? And do you have any tips or suggestion for aspiring literary translators?

 Every translation has a different story, and every translator has a different method. I usually set myself a daily goal in pages: 10 to 15, depending on the complexity of the text and the urgency. I also have to keep a fair amount of time for proofreading before sending a translation. I usually like to read it twice to feel perfectly comfortable. I read it aloud, it really helps to get a sense of rhythm – what works and what needs reworking.

Some days, you feel inspired and can translate a lot without a hitch, other days, it’s more complicated. In these cases, if I have a bit of time ahead of me, I usually don’t insist – it’s useless. Obviously, you can’t do that too often, but sometimes it’s also important to take a break and distance yourself from the text. You’ll be a lot more productive afterwards.

 I don’t know about tips or suggestions. I still feel that I am learning as I go, and tips I give today might change tomorrow. All I can say is that, if you want to become a translator, you need to be very well organized (in your work as well as in your budget, because you don’t get paid on a regular basis), you need to be able to handle loneliness well, and you need to be curious about pretty much everything. As a translator, you’ll have to gather information about all kinds of topics. I’ve had to translate crime novels that take place within the banking system, and I can assure you I knew very little about finance beforehand!

And probably the most important point: obviously, you need to speak the language you’re translating fluently, but you also need to have a perfect grasp of your own language, and know how to write. You are the author of your translation, after all.

If none of that scares you away, then I guess you have all the right weapons.

 6) How many books have you translated so far? How long do you take for, say, a 300-pages criminal novel? Or a 1000-pages literary novel?

 If I’m not mistaken, I’m currently working on my 27th translation. A 300-page crime novel that is not too technical usually takes me a little over two months (plus a couple of weeks of back-and-forth proofreading with the publisher). The Woman at 1000°, which was 650 pages in French, took me about nine months, but it was my first translation – maybe I would work faster today.

 Obviously, each book has its challenges. A recent translation I’ve done, Tvöfalt gler by Halldóra Thoroddsen (Double vitrage in French), was for example only 100 pages, but it took me a long time to translate. I couldn’t do 10-15 pages a day, like I normally would, because it was very poetic, and very abstract at times, almost like translating a collection of poems, so I really had to spend a lot of time on each paragraph, to try and read between the lines, see through the text to find the right word/phrase in French.

 7) A little bit about yourself … How did you become a translator? How did you know this was your way to go?

 To some extent, it was a series of coincidences and strokes of luck. I fell in love with Iceland and the Icelandic language as a teenager, then moved to Reykjavík as an exchange student in 2006 (when we met and were flatmates for a short period!) to finish my B.A. in English. I was 19 then, and had no idea of what I wanted to do with my life. All I knew was that I was passionate about Iceland, literature and writing. Then I found out there was a scholarship for foreign students who wanted to do a B.A. in Icelandic at the University of Iceland. I’d always wanted to study Icelandic, but to me this felt more like a passion I could never make a living from. At that time, I thought to myself I might as well give this a chance, since I wanted to settle more permanently in Iceland. I applied, got it and started from scratch.

When I was finishing my B.A., I had made wonderful friends and didn’t feel like going back to France. One of these friends was doing the M.A. in translation studies at the University of Iceland, and she was speaking highly of it. By that time, Icelandic literature had started becoming popular in France, and more publishers had developed an interest in it. Éric Boury, our most prolific translator, and Hanna Steinunn Þorleifsdóttir, my first Icelandic teacher in Caen, encouraged me in this field of work as they knew I was deeply interested in it.

Two years later, as I was putting the final touches to my M.A. thesis, a publisher working for Les Presses de la Cité in France posted a tweet (yes, on Twitter!) where they said they were looking for an Icelandic translator. One of my friends saw it and sent it to me. I got in touch, and they asked me to do a trial translation of a few pages from Konan við 1000° by Hallgrímur Helgason. They decided to give me my first chance. After that, we worked on five other books together, and progressively I got to know more publishers and work on all kinds of projects.

 8) Is it more of a "calling" for you, or a job? Or both?

 I wouldn’t use the word “calling”, as it would make me feel I didn’t have any say in this, and it’s a bit too mystical for my taste! I’d say it’s a job that I’m passionate about. I love what I do. Spending my days reading and writing. Like I said, translating relies a lot on your creativity. It’s very rewarding, even though it can get emotionally intense at times. I also enjoy working from home, at my own rhythm. And getting to meet all these incredible authors in festivals or whenever I travel to Iceland. They give me new perspectives on life. Everytime I discover a new author, my world gets a little bigger. It’s such a privilege.

9) You've participated in literature festivals and interpreted for Hallgrímur Helgason one time, right? I know it is a rather broad question, but what are the differences between Icelandic and French literary customs, speaking from your experience?

 I’m a translator, not an interpreter, which means I normally only work with the written word. But on occasion I have interpreted at festivals – mostly for the authors I translate – because I think it’s wonderful for the audience to hear the Icelandic language. Plus it’s always a pleasure to spend some time with an author you’ve translated. I like to be in touch, meet the person behind the book.

 I often participate to a festival called Les Boréales, which is held in my hometown Caen. Every year, they receive artists from the Nordic and Baltic countries, with a strong focus on literature. It is a very popular festival. In addition to events being held all over town (actually all over Normandy as a whole), in bookstores, libraries and other venues, the organizers also work with schools where writers come and meet pupils and teachers that have often spent weeks reading and analyzing their book, preparing questions and all kinds of surprises. Icelandic authors are always impressed and happy with the level of dedication and effort put into these meetings. As a translator and occasional interpreter, what I appreciate is that they try their best to make sure authors can express themselves in their own language – and I can imagine it’s not an easy task, they’re not the most “common” languages! Language and translation are always in focus at some point in the conversation with these authors, and the audiences of the festival are eager to learn more about it. A couple of years ago, me and my colleague Éric Boury, whom I’ve mentioned before, had a translation “battle” on stage – we both had to translate the same chapter from a book by Guðrún Eva Mínervudóttir, and then discuss our choices. The room was packed, which shows there is a very strong interest both in Icelandic literature and its translation process.

 I don’t know if that really answers your question. It’s hard for me to compare, as I haven’t been to that many literary events in Iceland these past few years. I’ve been keeping track of the literary scene from a distance. But I can say that I’ve witnessed a strong enthusiasm for Icelandic literature on many occasions in France.

 10) How compatible are French and Icelandic as languages? What is the biggest linguistic challenge when you translate from Icelandic into French?

 There are quite a few. Icelandic and French are very different languages with a specific history and heritage when it comes to literature. You don’t write in Icelandic like you would in French.

Obviously, it’s hard to make a general rule. Icelandic authors show a very wide range of writing styles. But to me, one of the key challenges is the rhythm. Translating from a Germanic language that has had very little influence from the outside into a Latin language that has a completely different rhythm can prove tricky. Icelandic can sometimes sound a bit “dry” when translated into French. It’s more minimal and descriptive. A bit like a pointillist painting, if you’ll allow me a simile – lots of sentences and ideas that could seem somewhat disconnected if you look too closely, but that make perfect sense as a whole. I feel like French writers tend to write with a stronger focus on flow. A sentence has to lead logically into the next one. The main challenge with translating an Icelandic text would be to add a little bit more flow into it without altering its inner rhythm, because that’s where all its beauty and magic stems from. To me, translation is all about finding the right balance between these two approaches to language.

 11) You are a musician as well and played in a band when you lived in Reykjavík. How does this talent help you with translating? What does music have in common with writing and/or translating?

 Well, it’s sort of connected to my previous answer: rhythm. Musicality and rhythm are very important in a text. Alternating between shorter and longer sentences, but never in a systematic way which would make it sound dull and repetitive. There has to be some element of surprise. The reader shouldn’t guess beforehand what comes next. Something like that. It’s not always easy to pinpoint, but as I said, I always read aloud when I go through the final stages of a translation, it really helps to see if a sentence works. If it’s easy to read aloud, if it sounds pleasing to the ear, then its meaning will be better conveyed. I guess I trust my instinct a lot on this, and having a passion for music, both as a listener and occasional composer, probably helps.

 12) Who are your 3 favourite authors of all time? Why do they mean so much to you?

 I can’t say I really have any favourite authors “of all time”. There are a few that will probably keep a special place in my heart forever. Kristín Ómarsdóttir, for example. She was the first Icelandic author I ever read. I remember finding her only book translated into French at the university library in Caen. It was called T’es pas la seule à être morte ! (Elskan mín ég dey in Icelandic, the book was translated by Éric Boury), which translates as You’re not the only one who’s dead! I found it hilarious (I love dark, absurd humour) and was immediately drawn to it. I’d never read something like this. Both absurd and deep. And she has such a way of playing with the structure of the novel as well.

 I’ve mentioned The Woman at 1000°. Hallgrímur Helgason remains such an important author to me, obviously for personal reasons as he was the first one I translated, but also for his creative use of the language. I love the way he reinvents himself and the way he writes with every new book. You never really know what to expect from him.

 And since I’ve named two Icelandic authors, I might as well be coherent and stay in Iceland. It’s a more recent discovery, but I would say Ragnar Helgi Ólafsson. Another author who always takes unexpected turns with every new publication, although completely different from Hallgrímur Helgason. He is also a visual artist and publisher, has a background in philosophy, and all this experience influences his work. Each and every one of his books is driven by a strong concept, but it never takes away from the emotion or the authenticity. To me, that’s beautifully done.

 Overall, I’d say I love authors who surprise me, who offer me new and unexpected perspectives on things.

 13) There isn't always one big event or experience or impetus that makes us do things, even though people want to hear that. Subsequently, there is one question I get all the time from very different people: "How come you speak Icelandic?" I appreciate the constant interest, and I'd like to ask it too, just let me phrase it a little differently! What makes Iceland your home? How did you know this? What draws you back there like a salmon to its birth place?

 That’s another very hard question, because it’s got a lot to do with instinct. I fell in love with the Icelandic language as a teenager, and subsequently with Iceland itself. Since then, I’ve met people there that feel like a second family to me, and generally speaking I feel good there. I love the atmosphere in Reykjavík, I am very attached to this city. And then of course there’s the nature, which is quite unique. But in the end it’s just love. You can’t explain love. You shouldn’t explain love.

 14) You are quite adept as a writer yourself. When and where can we read something from you? :-)

 I’ve published bits and pieces here and there, but so far writing has been a very personal activity. With a certain lack of structure, might I add! But I’m currently working on a novel that I am hoping to get published in the near future. We’ll see how it goes.

 Thanks for sharing your experience and expertise with us!

 

 

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