Chapter 351

Wei Ming built his reputation overseas on two English fairy tales, so he understood the importance of a good English translation for literary works.

In his past life, the success of "Three-Body Problem" overseas was inseparable from Liu Yu-kun's translation.

A work typically requires translation under two circumstances: one is when the translator is a native Chinese speaker, like with "Three-Body Problem."

The other is when the translator is a native speaker of the target language, like Melinda.

Each approach has its own advantages and emphases.

Native Chinese translators better grasp the linguistic subtleties, cultural connotations, historical and social contexts, authorial style, and intentions of the original, and can more accurately capture its essence.

But their translations may fall short in target-language expression habits, sense of language, rhetoric, and contemporary relevance, sometimes sounding "translated," unnatural or stiff, lacking the flexibility of native-target-language translators.

Their translations may face higher acceptance barriers in the target-language market, affecting sales.

Native-target-language translators, however, have a more precise command of target-language sense, idioms, cultural background, and contemporary linguistic evolution, ensuring translations read smoothly and naturally, aligning with target-language readers' habits, aiding overseas promotion and dissemination.

Of course, cultural barriers may lead to misunderstandings or simplifications of the original, preventing the work from reaching overseas readers in its purest form.

The ideal model should be a collaboration between a foreign translator fluent in Chinese and a Chinese translator fluent in the target language.

Or a bilingual Chinese diaspora with rich life experience in both countries—Liu Yu-kun actually belongs to this category.

The pair Xia Lao proposed, Yang Xianyi and Dai Naidie, were precisely such a golden translation team.

Mr. Yang Xianyi was Chinese, graduated from Oxford University in Britain; his wife Dai Naidie was British, met Yang Xianyi while studying at Oxford, and followed him back to China to settle.

Since the late 19th century, in stark contrast to the flourishing scene of foreign-to-Chinese translation, Chinese-to-foreign translation has always been weak and under-resourced.

On Professor Liang Shiqiu's recommendation, the couple devoted themselves exclusively to translating Chinese classics into English.

Just look at their works to understand their caliber.

"The Travels of Lao Can," "Li Sao," "The Palace of Eternal Life," "The Scholars," "Selected Plays by Guan Hanqing," "Selected Stories from Liaozhai," the opera "The White-Haired Girl," the play "Qu Yuan," and multiple works by Lu Xun including "A Brief History of Chinese Fiction," "Nahan," "Panghuang," "Gushi Xinbian," and "Ye Cao."

Oh, recently they completed and published their multi-year English translation of "Dream of the Red Chamber."

This is one of the two most classic and influential English translations of "Dream of the Red Chamber," and the world's first complete English edition.

Their translations, apart from ancient Chinese classics, included only Lu Xun's modern works.

To get these two to translate Wei Ming's "The Right Path of Humanity Is Vast Change," Wei Ming knew that if not for his previous achievements and his immense reputation both domestically and abroad, Waiwenchubanshe would never have gone to such lengths to bring them on board.

At their age, they might retire right after finishing this massive translation.

Wei Ming thanked Xia Lao, then had to return to work; his secretary took him to meet Liu Gao, the deputy director of the Copyright Bureau leading the delegation.

He was fifty years old, vigorous and capable, and had directly participated in establishing China's copyright legal system and China's accession to the World Copyright Convention.

Deputy Director Liu shook Wei Ming's hand and, upon learning Wei Ming had been invited by Macmillan to Frankfurt, was deeply moved.

"Actually, inviting authors to personally explain their works at book fairs is essential—I've attended several Frankfurt Book Fairs where many foreign authors came in person and were warmly received, but the cost of overseas travel is too high for us to afford."

Wei Ming paid for his own overseas expenses this time, and Macmillan reimbursed him.

"So how many people are going altogether?" Wei Ming asked.

"Including you, it's eight," Deputy Director Wang said. "One from the Copyright Bureau, one from the Book Trade Company, two from the Foreign Languages Bureau, and the rest are representatives from major publishing houses. We'll first go to Hong Kong, where two colleagues from Sanlian Bookstore and the International Bookstore will join us—ten people total."

Wei Ming corrected him: "Eleven. My sister is going too—she has a book published overseas."

Deputy Director Wang: "Ah!?"

An eleven-person delegation is not large at all—overseas publishers operate independently; even a small country might have multiple publishers attending, each with just a few people.

Compared to China's population and number of books, ten people is clearly insufficient, and many crucial authors are absent.

Wei Ming hoped this trip would sell more rights, perhaps encouraging the Ministry of Culture to send more authors next year.

Deputy Director Wang had high hopes for Wei Ming—he'd heard Wei Ming had dated a British girlfriend, spoke excellent English, and thus avoided translation hassles, able to directly introduce his work to foreign publishers; crucially, he had a proven track record of overseas success and already enjoyed considerable fame abroad.

Yet Wei Ming himself was uncertain whether his serious literary novels could succeed overseas.

Melinda was with Macmillan—Macmillan surely knew China had many highly renowned serious literary works, yet they had never shown any interest in them.

Next, Wei Ming visited Waiwenchubanshe again, hoping to meet Yang Xianyi and Dai Naidie; since they'd be collaborating, frequent contact would be necessary.

At Waiwenchubanshe, Wei Ming first found Mr. Ye Junjian—Wei Ming had read Ye's translation of "Andersen's Fairy Tales," and they'd met at some Writers' Association events.

Professor Ye was not only a renowned Chinese novelist and translator but also a long-standing figure in foreign propaganda, serving as director of the Sino-Foreign Literary Exchange Committee.

He had planned and founded "Chinese Literature," the only national-level foreign-oriented literary publication since the founding of New China, translating and introducing classical and modern Chinese literature to Western readers.

He was the anchor of Waiwenchubanshe; one of the two overseas delegation slots from the Foreign Languages Bureau was his.

He also participated in the English translation of the Great Leader's poetry, collaborating with Qian Zhongshu and British experts over ten years to translate thirty-seven poems—including the line "The Right Path of Humanity Is Vast Change," which he translated.

But the English version was too long to serve as the title of "The Right Path of Humanity Is Vast Change"; as he took Wei Ming to meet Yang Xianyi and Dai Naidie, he was still debating the book's English title.

At the Yangs' home, Wei Ming hadn't even had time to greet the two translation masters before he watched two Chinese elders and one British elder passionately debate the title.

They switched between Chinese and English rapidly, often jumping abruptly from one topic to another.

Wei Ming could interject but couldn't keep up; seeing ingredients in the kitchen, he simply cooked them lunch.

Only at mealtime did the hosts realize they'd neglected their guest and hurried to apologize.

Wei Ming said: "We're all working for the sake of my novel's translation—I'm delighted. I don't understand translation, but if you have questions about the novel's content, please reach out to me soon; I'll leave you my phone number and home address."

"Do you have any writing notes, Xiao Wei?" asked Mr. Yang Xianyi.

"Yes, several notebooks. I'll bring them to you tomorrow."

"Good, good, good."

Then Dai Naidie praised Wei Ming's cooking—this was a feast to a British person!

After lunch, as Professor Ye walked Wei Ming downstairs, Wei Ming finally asked: "I noticed both gentlemen seem unwell—is such a massive translation project too taxing for them?"

Professor Ye was about the same age as Mr. Yang, and Dai Naidie was younger, but the couple didn't look nearly as healthy as Professor Ye.

Ye Junjian sighed: "It's not their physical health—it's their mental state. Two years ago, their son committed suicide."

"Ah!?"

Then Professor Ye recounted the absurd events of that absurd era.

Because Dai Naidie was British, the couple was branded "spies," imprisoned together; their only son and two daughters, left unattended, suffered as well—especially the son, who, after a decade of torment, developed schizophrenia, going mad.