How to preserve the flavour of the text: An Interview with Uma Shirodkar

Bilori Journal: In your opinion, what is the role of a translator in today’s society? Does a translator hold the power to alter or influence societal narratives through the act of translation?

Uma Shirodkar: As translators, we’re bridges between languages, cultures and worlds, and this is not a small responsibility by any means. We’re constantly making choices when we translate—we put a lot of thought into choosing the right words that convey what the author intended. These shape how the translation, and by extension, the author’s voice is perceived. So yes, this is a big deal, and the decisions we make here can significantly influence how a text or a community or a religion is perceived. We have to be mindful. It’s not merely about substituting one word for the other, as many think it to be. It’s so much more than that. I can’t think of a better example of “words are power” than this one.

Where does literary translation fit within the decolonization worldview? Can translation be wielded as an effective tool in the process of decolonization?

Edith Grossman, the eminent Spanish translator, says in her 2010 essay Why Translation Matters, “Translation expands our ability to explore through literature the thoughts and feelings of people from another society or another time. It permits us to savour the transformation of the foreign into the familiar and for a brief time to live outside our own skins, our own preconceptions and misconceptions. It expands and deepens our world, our consciousness, in countless, indescribable ways,” and I couldn’t agree more. I believe that literary translation, especially for underrepresented languages and cultures, is a powerful tool in the process of decolonisation. When we translate from historically underrepresented and/or marginalised languages and cultures, we’re playing an important part in keeping that language or culture alive by making it more accessible and ensuring that these narratives and views are not lost or misinterpreted.

You have translated song lyrics from different languages, including a popular Marathi rap song. Can you tell us more about your approach to translating song lyrics and elaborate on the difference in your approach to translating poetry based on the purpose of the translation?

Song lyrics and poetry are both a pleasure and a challenge to translate. When it comes to song lyrics, we must consider the medium and the intent as well. Are you translating for a subtitle, do you want to retain the poetry in the lines, or are you trying to do a very literal translation? The translation will differ accordingly. With song lyrics there’s definitely more context when you listen to the song or watch the video, unlike with poetry. So, when I translate lyrics, I try not to make them too clunky or too literal. That’s not to say I do the opposite for poetry. With poetry I find it’s a slightly longer process, where I try and retain the rhythm and feel of the original in the translation.

Among the translators we have had the pleasure of interviewing, you have the unique experience of translating film lyrics as well as subtitling. Both these avenues are different from literary translation. How does translation for subtitling differ from literary translation?

Great question. Subtitling has a lot of time and space constraints, and a different intent than literary translation. In those few seconds on screen, you must convey the essence of the dialogue rather than a literal translation. Your subtitle must contribute to the film-viewing experience, not take away from it. Think of it as training wheels on a bicycle. Sometimes this comes at the expense of words and contexts which can weigh the subtitle down. Unlike literary translation, I’ve found that agonising over sentence rhythms and syntax simply isn’t worth it when you’re subtitling. This means that you have more freedom to play around with words and sentence construction to accurately convey what the dialogue wants to say. It doesn’t have to perfectly correspond to the dialogue. But when it’s a literary translation, like a short story or a novel, you cannot take as many liberties. There, it’s a completely different ballgame. I feel that on paper—a static medium— rhythms and structures are more pronounced.

There are many different aspects of the translation industry. What, according to you, is the importance of having a community in the field of translation?

Translation, like any kind of writing, is an intensely inward-looking activity, but also a collaborative effort. Most of the work we do is all in our own heads. And getting out of your head sometimes is very important. Reaching out to other translators and having people you can talk to is very important. The number of translators translating from underrepresented languages, such as Marathi, is not very large. In such a case, it makes complete sense. Apart from giving you much-needed feedback on your translations and being sounding boards and collaborators, you need people to keep you grounded and sane. I’m happy to have found and known such people, and I’m grateful for their presence and support.

You have translated phrases, idioms and sayings from multiple languages. Do you make assumptions about your type of readership when translating a text? Is one of your aims of translation to make the text more “accessible” in the translated language?

One of the reasons I started translating is because I wanted to share my culture with others. In that sense, yes, one of my aims is to make the text “accessible” in the translated language—but not at the expense of the author’s vision and voice. I would not like to oversimplify things just to make something more “accessible”. Ultimately it all boils down to the choices I make as a translator: what I choose to retain or leave out in my effort to preserve the flavour of the text in translation.

When do you consider a translation you have completed to be 'good' or 'complete'?

Very difficult question to answer, perhaps impossible! I’d like to recount something: In early 2023 I had the pleasure of meeting Daisy Rockwell, Booker Prize-winning translator of Tomb of Sand, and she said something that I frequently go back to: “It’s important to learn to let go of the original, and to have the confidence that the new language will be able to support the beauty that you saw in the original”. I think when I come to a point where I can let go of the original text and see my translation as an independent creation is when I would say that it’s complete. But then again, a translation is not set in stone — it evolves through time as it always has. So, still a strange situation.

Which are some translations that you’ve read and liked?

Difficult question again, because there are so many that I love! B. Jeyamohan’s Stories of the True translated from Tamil by Priyamvada Ramkumar is a brilliantly translated book; I love the sentence constructions and the word choices that Priyamvada has used. Shanta Gokhale’s translation of Sane Guruji’s Marathi classic Shyamchi Aai is also another favourite because it’s such a warm, homely read. I recently read Sheela Tomy’s Valli translated from Malayalam by Jayasree Kalathil; what an amazing book!

Recently, writers from the Global South are claiming their bilingual identities by inserting their native language into English writing without explanation, italicisation or translation. Considering this, how would you or do you approach translating a bilingual piece of literature?

Over-explanation and oversimplification will take away from the translation rather than adding to it. Having said that, I think that when it comes to bilingual texts, it is important to strike a balance. You want to immerse the reader in a new world and cultural context, but at the same time you don’t want to leave them floundering.Italicising words in our own language just because they happen to feature along with English is doing a great disservice—our language should not have to be exoticised as if it is something alien. Sometimes we seriously undermine our readers: they understand a lot more than we think they do. I think I’d retain some Marathi phrases if I was translating a text like this.

What is your relationship with your own Marathi-English bilinguality and in what ways does it impact in your translations?

Marathi is an underrepresented language in the South Asian language translation hierarchy: only a few titles make it to publication every year. Even fewer make it to literary award longlists, let alone winning them. I dream of someday bridging this gap, and changing the image that the language and culture currently have in popular media. I consider my bilinguality a huge advantage in taking my culture to a wider audience and contributing to Marathi translations as a whole. I grew up in an upper middle-class, Marathi-speaking household in Mumbai and have had an English-medium education. I’ve been reading avidly in English since I was very young. However, I didn’t get around to reading Marathi until I was twelve or thirteen years old—I haven’t studied the language academically, only in school. It was only when I began translating about four years ago that I rediscovered Marathi literature. To be honest, I still am. Translating in English has enabled me to appreciate and understand Marathi much more, and be in a better position to contextualise it for others.

Uma Shirodkar’s translation of a verse of Mangesh Padgaonkar’s poem ‘Shukrataara’

Uma Shirodkar is a writer, translator; and Associate Translations Editor (Fiction) at The Bombay Literary Magazine. Born and brought up in Mumbai, she translates primarily from Marathi into English, occasionally dabbling in Gujarati and Hindi as well. In 2024, she graduated with a PGDip in Translation and Creative Writing from Ahmedabad University. She writes about Marathi culture, literature, films and music in translation on her Instagram platform Lyrically Obscure.