What’s in a name?
Translating names in
Roald Dahl’s children’s fiction
into Dutch and French
Master thesis Taalwetenschappen: Vertalen Eva van Gerven 5740967 Supervisor: Dr. Eric Metz Second reader: Dr. Otto Zwartjes 30 June 2016
“No book is really worth reading at
the age of ten which is not equally –
and often far more – worth reading
at the age of fifty and beyond.”
- C.S. Lewis
Contents
Prologue
4
Chapter 1. Introduction
5
Chapter 2. A theory of names
7
2.1 What is a name? 7 2.2 A theoretical framework of personal names in translation 10Chapter 3. A quantitative analysis of the
translation of fictional names in
Roald Dahl’s works
14
3.1. Determining the method 14 3.2. Categorization problems 16 3.3 Translatorial strategies for the separate books22 3.4 Translatorial strategies for all works combined 25 3.5 Preliminary observations 26
Chapter 4: A qualitative analysis of the
translations of fictional names in
Roald Dahl’s works
28
4.1 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory 29 4.2 The BFG 35 4.3 The Witches 42 4.4 Matilda 46
Chapter 5. The translators’ strategies
53
Chapter 6. Conclusion
54
References
59
Appendix
60
Prologue
For as long as I can remember, I have loved reading fiction. I have spent countless hours with a book in my hand, utterly oblivious to everything happening around me and completely submerged in all kinds of fictional worlds. My parents stimulated my penchant for reading from a very early age onwards, taking me to the library at least once a week and giving me books on any occasion where gifts were in order. They undoubtedly did this partly for their own benefit; no matter where we were, if they gave me a book I was out of their hair. It was not until later in life that I realized how big of a role reading had played in my love for language. There are few things that give me more pleasure than reading a beautiful phrase, an eloquent metaphor or an originally phrased sentence; I have books to thank for that. It is no wonder that, while studying languages at the University of Amsterdam, I found myself being pulled back time and time again to those works of fiction that had played such a vital role in my childhood. Whenever an assignment or paper required the analysis of a work of fiction, I always found myself choosing one of the books I enjoyed reading as a child as my subject. Re-reading some of my all-time favourites, I was amazed at how funny, delightful and captivating these stories still were in my twenties, in some cases nearly two decades after I had first read them. Being able to rediscover some of these text in their original language allowed me to see them in an entirely different way, and enabled me to fully understand how much they helped shape me into the person that I am today. I was therefore not surprised to find myself more than a little interested in the art of translation. After all, I would never have been able to enjoy these children’s books without it. The decision to take a master’s degree in translation studies was, therefore, not a difficult one, and one that I have never regretted. With my master’s thesis, I wanted to go back to the stories of my childhood once again. I wanted to see if I could find a way to take a peek into the brain of the person who translated some of the books that I loved so much, by one of my absolute favourite authors of all time: Roald Dahl. His sense of humour, wordplay and unique characters delighted me like no other author’s creations. From the point of view of a translator, I became curious to see how much of a role the translator of his most popular works, Huberte Vriesendorp, played in these joys from my childhood.
Chapter 1.
Introduction
1.1 Aim of the study
In addition to the wordplay, puns and jokes that Roald Dahl is so famous for, the names he gives to his characters contribute greatly to the way in which the reader experiences his stories. More often than not, the names say something about a character, giving the reader little hints toward the nature of the person they are about to encounter in the story. With this thesis, my aim is to investigate how these often-expressive names are translated into Dutch and French. I have chosen to analyze four major works of children’s fiction by Roald Dahl: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The BFG, The Witches and Matilda. These books have been immensely popular since they were first published, and were translated into countless languages; not only are they some of the most widely read works in the canon of English children’s fiction, their Dutch and French translations have become part of the literary canon of their respective target cultures as well. Each of these books has been adapted into films, and the fact that a new film adaptation of The BFG was released in July 2016 proves that the popularity of the works of Roald Dahl shows no signs of waning. It is not a stretch to assume that an author known for his talent for storytelling would choose his characters’ names carefully and deliberately. This thesis will explore the descriptive nature of the names in these four major works. My aim is to analyze how the translators handle these names in their respective target texts. Undoubtedly, their translation will require a measure of creativity on the part of the translator; I am fascinated to discover the solutions they have found to these translation problems on the textual level. To what extent do they keep the descriptive nature the names may have into account? How is this reflected in the translation? All of the Dutch translations were carried out by the same person, Huberte Vriesendorp, so it will be interesting to find out whether her general approach towards children’s fiction can be deduced from the analysis. Upon first glance, she seems to apply the same strategy consistently when it comes to the translation of first names, leading to a consistent target culture canon of first names and surnames. Reading the French translations of the same four source texts, it seems that the overall translation strategy of the characters’ names in the target texts lacks the same consistency. In the French translation of Matilda especially, names seem to be translated with an entirely different approach to that of the other three source texts. While this inconsistency could be due to a possible difference in the nature of the names, which may warrant a different approach to the translation, I think that the fact that the French translations were carried out not by one, but rather four different translators has led to this disparity. I think that the names in the four source texts are descriptive in equal measure, and that the differences in their translations between the Dutch and French target text and the separate French texts respectively is due to the difference in the general approaches taken by the translators. The aim of this study is to investigate this hypothesis.1.2 Method
In order to analyze the Dutch and French translations of names in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The BFG, The Witches and Matilda, I will first set up a theoretical framework in order to establish what a name is, and how this theory of names can be employed for the translation of names in children’s fiction. Subsequently, I will divide my analysis of the translated names in the Dutch and French target texts into a quantitative and a qualitative part. In the quantitative analysis, I will use B.J. Epstein’s distinction between seven different translatorial strategies. For each of the Dutch and French target texts, I will determine the translatorial strategy used for each of the target text names, analyzing first names and surnames separately. Comparing the results of this quantitative analysis, I will draw some preliminary conclusions. In the qualitative analysis, I will look at each of the Dutch and French target text equivalents of the source text names, and try to interpret these translations in order to determine the translators’ approach. I will establish whether or not the names are descriptive in nature, and determine the extent to which this possible descriptive nature is reflected in the Dutch and French translations respectively. On the basis of the analysis, I will attempt to determine the global approaches taken by each translator, and either prove or disprove the hypothesis formulated above.Chapter 2. A theory of names
2.1 What is a name?
If the aim of this thesis is to study the role that names play in fiction, and in children’s fiction in particular, it is necessary to establish what exactly a name entails. When can something be called a name, and how does it insinuate meaning?2.1.1 The grammar of names
In grammar, ‘name’ as a category encompasses much more than only given names and surnames of persons. It is necessary to specify that when speaking of analyzing the translation of names in Roald Dahl’s works, I am really talking about personal names. Personal names belong to the grammatical category of the noun, and when it comes to syntax, they primarily function as noun phrases in a sentence. Names are nouns, but not all nouns are names. Personal names belong to the subcategory of the proper name. In The Cambridge Grammar of the English Language, proper names are described as follows: The central cases of proper names are expressions which have been conventionally adopted as the name of a particular entity – or (…) a collection of entities. They include the names of particular persons (…) or animals (…), places of many kinds (…), institutions (…), historical events (…). The category also covers the names of days of the week, months of the year, and recurrent festivals, public holidays, etc. (515-516) The Cambridge Grammar further mentions about the construction of the personal name: Personal names typically consist of a combination of one or more given (first, Christian) names and a family name (surname) (…), given names may be reduced to an initial letter. This construction is unique to personal names (…). (519) The structure of personal names, then, is a very particular one. However, this description of the function of personal names only accounts for English grammar. It is necessary also to look at the grammar of the two target languages analyzed in this thesis: Dutch and French. In Algemene Nederlandse Spraakkunst, proper names (eigennamen) are characterized as follows: Eigennamen onderscheiden individuen van elkaar. Ze worden gewoonlijk met een hoofdletter geschreven; ze kunnen ook zonder bepaald lidwoord iemand of iets ‘identificeren’. (…) Eigennamen komen vooral voor bij mensen, dieren, aardrijkskundige eenheden, schepen, vliegtuigen, gebouwen, hemellichamen, tijdsruimten, organisaties en instellingen. (140-141)Eigennamen in Dutch grammar are thus more or less equivalent to proper names in English grammar. While names of the days of the week, months of the year and holidays are not mentioned, they are classified as eigennamen further along in the book. Personal names are not further elaborated upon or in any way specified as a separate category with regard to syntax. However, they are classified as nouns and thus determined to function as noun phrases in Dutch. In French grammar, a distinction is made between the nom commun and nom propre. Le Bon Usage says of the nom propre: Le nom propre n’a pas de signification véritable, de définition; il se rattache à ce qu’il désigne par un lien qui n’est pas sémantique, mais par une convention qui lui est particulière. (…) Il n’est pas possible de deviner que telle personne s’appelle Claude. Il n’y a, entre les diverses personnes portant ce prénom, d’autre caractère commun que ce prénom. (§461) Interestingly, only names of places and persons are classified as noms propres by Le Bon Usage. Further specifications of personal names are not made with regard to their structure, but as in English and French, they are classified as nouns and function as noun phrases. It can thus be said that personal names are interpreted in the same way in all three languages, at least when it comes to grammar and syntax. This is an important aspect to have established with regard to translation practices; if a personal name functions differently in the syntax of the target text, this may influence the choice of whether or not to translate it. In the very least, it is not unlikely to assume that such a situation might warrant a different translation strategy.
2.1.2 The semantics of personal names
More interesting than the grammatical functioning of personal names is their semantic meaning. The signification of names goes beyond grammar; semantics plays an important role in the way names are employed and understood, especially with regard to the translation debate. After all, translation is the transfer of meaning from one language into the other, so if we want to determine whether or not personal names in children’s language should be translated, we must first regard their semantics. Willy van Langendonck has written an extensive yet handy book on the subject of proper names: Theory and Typology of Proper Names. In it, he elaborates on the semantic status of the proper name, providing the reader with a concise overview of leading theories on the matter. Looking at proper names and their referential and semantic status, two general movements can be distinguished. The first is a descriptivist theory of names, which is commonly attributed to Gottlob Frege and Bertrand Russell. This theory states that there are a number of descriptions that are associated with a particular proper name, and that these descriptions constitute its meaning. For example, the proper name Roald Dahl may be associated with the descriptions ‘a writer of children’s books’, ‘a fighter pilot with the Royal Air Force’, and ‘a father to five children’. The meaning of the name Roald Dahl is this collection of descriptions, and the referent of the name is the person or object that meets all or most of these descriptions.In his lecture series Naming and Necessity, given in 1970 and published as a book in 1980, Saul Kripke rejects this descriptivist theory and proposes a new, causal theory of proper names. He follows John Stuart Mill’s theory of meaninglessness; according to Mill, a proper name is meaningless in the sense that it is purely referential. He describes the proper name as “A name utterly unmeaning…, a word which answers the purpose of showing what thing it is we are talking about, but not of telling anything about it” (qtd. in Van Langendonck 25). New in Kripke’s theory is the concept of the ‘rigid designator’. Van Langendonck explains this concept: According to Kripke (…) proper names are connected with their referents via a causal chain of references which goes back to an initial baptismal (i.e. a name-giving) act in which the reference is fixed by ostension and/or description. As soon as a name is assigned to an entity, we no longer refer with this name by means of descriptions. For example, supposing Aristotle’s parents gave him his name, they will have mentioned it to others, these other people will have passed it on again and so forth. The original name-giving act and the subsequent acts in which the name is passed on turn it into a rigid designator. (34) The rigid designator indicates the same entity in all possible contexts or worlds that it can exist in; the proper name Roald Dahl, for example, refers to the same person in all possible contexts, regardless of what description may hold true in that specific context. Had Roald Dahl, in an alternate reality, never written any children’s books, the description ‘writer of children’s books’ would not be valid. However, the proper name Roald Dahl would still refer to the same person. Descriptions are therefore seen as non-rigid designators. This causal theory of proper names was formed in order to correct a number of flaws that Kripke observed within the descriptivist theory. For example, sometimes false descriptions become a commonly accepted way of identifying a person. In addition, the same description may refer to two different people; for example, the descriptor ‘author of children’s books’ may refer to Roald Dahl, but it can also be used to identify Lewis Carroll: “This would entail that the referent can not always be retrieved by giving a set of descriptions” (Van Langendonck, 33).
2.2 A theoretical framework of personal names in
translation
2.2.1 Reality versus fiction
It seems logical to assume that the application of the descriptivist and causal theory of reference would have different outcomes when it comes to determining translation strategies. If a name is indeed a purely referential rigid designator, it should remain the same in all possible contexts, and all possible languages. The causal theory of reference, then, would require no translation of the personal proper name. In the descriptive theory of reference, where proper names have a connotation in addition to their denotation, it might make more sense to translate or transliterate a personal proper name, so that the connotation it brings about is the same for the target text reader as for the source text reader. In other words, this, like many other translating processes, becomes an issue of domestication versus foreignization. Indeed, it seems that most of the research done on the translation of personal proper names speaks in these terms rather than viewing the debate as an issue of descriptivism versus causality. However, much like in the descriptivism versus causality debate, it seems that academics lean heavily towards either one side. Perhaps this is not entirely without logic; it makes sense to assume that in theory, translators will usually opt for either one or the other, so as to avoid any conflicts within the target text. However, the name-giving or baptismal act in the process of writing fiction is much more calculated. The name of a fictional character is important – the writer may have to think about things like difficulty of pronunciation or opt for a name that is internationally understandable. But even more so, the writer must keep in mind what a character’s name conveys. For example, James Bond is never referred to as ‘Jimmy’ in the books by Ian Fleming or in any of the hit films, even though ‘Jimmy’ is a common nickname to go with the name ‘James’ – undoubtedly a deliberate choice, because this would distract from the seriousness of his character. It makes sense to assume that writers give their characters names that ‘fit’ them, which suit their personalities – unlike in real life, where a baby is named before any of his personality traits are known. This, in fact, may very well be the most significant difference between naming an actual human baby and naming a fictional character in a text. When a baby is born, giving it a name is one of the first things that is done, before the child has had the opportunity to develop character traits and a personality. In the initial baptismal act, a name is not determined by its carrier’s personality, because that personality is not yet known. In fiction writing, it can be assumed that the name of a character comes into being more or less simultaneously with the personality traits. The character and the name are created in accordance with each other in the mind of the writer. As the development of a character progresses, names may be changed in order to better reflect new properties. For example, in a radio interview in 1999, J.K. Rowling elaborates on the importance of the right name for a character:Names are really crucial to me - as some of my characters have had eight or nine names before I - I, you know, hit the right one. And for some reason I just can't move on until I know I've called them the right thing - that's very fundamental to me.1 Choosing the ‘right’ name is, at least to J.K. Rowling, a crucial part of developing a character. In this sense, personal names in fiction function in an entirely different way than personal names in real life. In his book The Nature of Fiction, Gregory Currie even goes so far as to refrain from calling names in fictional texts ‘proper names’ altogether. Rather, he uses the term ‘fictional names’: We should not start by assuming that fictional names are genuine proper names. (…) To suppose it uncontroversial that fictional names are proper names is to confuse what is true in a story with what is true. (127) He takes Sherlock Holmes as an example, stating that while this fictional name is indeed a proper name, it is an empty proper name, because it does not refer to any real person outside of the stories, in the actual world (129). Herein Currie perceives an discrepancy between fiction and non-fiction writing when it comes to Kripke’s theory of the rigid designator. Kripke’s theory states that the rigid designator refers to the same entity in all possible worlds, but if Sherlock Holmes does not exist in the actual world, the name ‘Sherlock Holmes’ cannot refer to him in the actual world. This would mean, then, that ‘Sherlock Holmes’, while being both a fictional name and a proper personal name, is not, in fact, a rigid designator. And that is precisely where the difference between fictional names and ‘actual’ proper names lies. Personal proper names in fiction, or fictional names, as Currie calls them, are not rigid designators, and therefore more flexible and fluid when it comes to their use and translation. In “Proper Names in Translations for Children: Alice in Wonderland as a Case in Point”, Christiane Nord puts forward an interesting point about names when it comes to translating fiction: In the real world, proper names may be non-descriptive, but they are obviously not non-informative: If we are familiar with the culture in question, a proper name can tell us whether the referent is a female or male person (…), maybe even about their age (…) or their geographical origin within the same language community (…) or from another country, a pet (…), a place (…), etc. Such indicators may lead us astray in real life, but they can be assumed to be intentional in fiction. (183) Like Currie, Nord makes a distinction between translating non-fiction and translating fiction when it comes to personal names. It is true that in some languages, a certain form of personal names is necessary. For example, Jennifer Aniston is transliterated as 詹妮弗安妮斯頓 in Chinese hanzi characters, pronounced as “zhānnīfú ānnísīdùn”. However, it is a generally accepted rule that names referring to existing persons in the real world are not translated – they are rigid designators that always refer to the same entity or person, no 1 <http://www.accio-quote.org/articles/1999/1099-connectiontransc2.htm#p9>
matter the language that is used to speak about that person. From this point onwards in this thesis, personal names in fiction will be referred to as ‘fictional names’, and personal names in reality and non-fiction will simply be referred to as ‘personal names’, in order to eliminate possible ambiguity that comes with using the latter term for both.
2.2.2 Translating fictional names
If rigid designators should not and usually are not translated, does that mean that non-rigid designators, or fictional names, should be? It seems there is no consensus among translators when it comes to the translation of fictional names. Whether or not a translator chooses to translate may depend on a variety of factors, such as the translator’s personal preferences, grammatical structures of either the target or the source language, or the audience that the fictional text is intended for. In any case, whether or not a fictional name is translated may be indicative of the translator’s choice for either domestication or foreignization, which, as mentioned above, is the form the translation debate usually takes. Both approaches have been criticized and lauded, and the source of these criticisms are usually related to the supposed ‘sacredness’ of the source text as well as to the notion of the invisibility of the translator. Those in favour of foreignization often argue that it is the only way of staying as true to the source text as possible, and that adaptations in order to move the text closer to the target reader would only result in a dilution of the original text. In this view, supported among others by Lawrence Venuti who defined the dichotomy as we know it today, it is the translator’s job to be invisible and not to meddle with the words and phrases in the source text. Some scholars are also of the opinion that foreignization can function as a means of teaching the target readers something about the source culture. Those in favour of domestication are usually of the opinion that not the words and phrases on the page, but the emotions and experiences that the audience has while reading the text are the most important element. To stay true to the original text, in their eyes, means to make sure that the target text reader experiences the text in the same way as the audience in the source culture. The choice for either option depends on which is viewed as more important: the author’s original words or the emotions these words evoke in his readers. All of these things are to be taken into account when translating any work of fiction, but they are especially relevant for the translation of children’s literature. In her book Translating for Children, Riitta Oittinen argues that the term ‘children’s literature’ inherently suggests that these types of texts are directed specifically at their readers (61). In order to be able to translate for children, the translator must read the text from a child’s perspective. In all events, if we really take the child’s point of view into consideration, we cannot avoid the question: How do children themselves see children’s literature? How do they react to it? How do the reactions of children and adults differ? (62) It is the translator’s job to read the text from the point of view of the young audience, and experience it like a child would. In her opinion, a ‘good’ translationof a work of children’s fiction manages to evoke the same emotions in the reader of the target text as it does in the source audience. Stubbornly clinging on to the original text as a sacred work that is not to be tampered with, she says, is an “unrealistic approach that neglects the child reader’s reading experience” (163). The reader’s experience, not the text itself, should be the guiding principle. How does all of this tie in with the translation of fictional names in children’s literature? As Christiane Nord pointed out, any information that a fictional name in a children’s book contains can be regarded as intentional. In many occasions, a fictional name is designed to evoke certain connotations in the child reader. In her article ‘In Name Only? Translating Names in Children’s Literature’, B.J. Epstein argues that it makes sense to assume that in children’s fiction, names play a more important role than they do in fiction that is intended for adults: In regard to children’s literature, names might be more commonly played with when the audience is younger (…). Words and actions naturally reveal a lot about character, but choosing an appropriate name is a swift way of starting the story and signaling to the child reader how to interpret a given character. (194) If a foreignizing strategy is adopted with regard to translation, for example by maintaining the source text names in the target text, these signs of interpretation are likely to be lost on the target text child reader. The foreignized translation, while remaining more true to the source text on the word level, may fail to evoke the same emotions in the target text reader as the author had intended for his source text audience. Whether or not a fictional name is translated depends for a large part on the translator’s personal views with regard to this aspect. Is a translator in favour of domestication, he or she may be more inclined to opt for strategies such as translation, transliteration or he or she will choose to replace the name with a target language name. Is the translator in favour of foreignization, he or she may choose to maintain the source text name, perhaps altering it slightly in order to fit the target language in terms of grammar or structure. However, the analysis of the translation of fictional names is by no means sufficient in determining the approach favoured by the translator; it is merely one element in the translation process. In the following chapters, the translatorial choices with regard to fictional names in the Dutch and French translations of four major works by Roald Dahl will be analyzed.
Chapter 3. A quantitative analysis of the
translation of fictional names in Roald Dahl’s
works
The appendix of this thesis consists of a full list of fictional names and their Dutch and French counterparts for each of the four books selected. If we want to analyze these translations, a quantitative analysis will help provide an insight into possible translation strategies. In order to be able to provide a quantitative analysis of these translations, a suitable method for categorizing these translations must first be determined.3.1 Determining the method
Conveniently, B.J. Epstein has done a similar research into the translation of the fictional names of Roald Dahl characters from English into Swedish (as well as characters from the Lemony Snicket series by Daniel Handler) in her article. In her quantitative analysis, she distinguishes between seven different translation strategies for translating fictional names, namely deletion, direct retention, translation, adaptation, explanation, replacement and addition. She explains these terms in the following table:Translatorial Strategy Description deletion to remove a name and/or its associations; this may be part of a larger strategy of abridgement or adaptation, and may not be because of the name itself, although it could be direct retention to keep a name as it is and, hopefully, its associations, if there are any (usually only the case for related cultures and/or languages, or if one culture has influenced another, or by chance; it is often not possible to know this for sure) translation to break down a name into the nouns or adjectives that form its constituent elements and then recreate it in the target language, sometimes without the connotations adaptation to use the name but change the spelling, grammar, usage, or some other part of it in order to fit the target language or culture explanation to add an explanation (a word or phrase in the text, footnote or endnote, introduction or translator’s note, or a signal) replacement to replace the name (with a similar name, another name from the source culture, a name from the target culture, a name from another culture, a different description or name altogether, or some other literary device or form of expressive language) addition to add a new name and/or its associations and/or some other text where there was none before; can be a way of compensating for deletion, adaptation, or replacement Table 1: Translational strategies according to B.J. Epstein, Northern Lights p. 197 Although her analysis includes non-personal proper names, such as names of buildings, Epstein’s distinction between these seven translation strategies makes for a simple, yet effective way of subdividing the translations of fictional names in this thesis, and so I will use the same distinction in my quantitative analysis of the translation of these names in Roald Dahl’s works. As not all fictional names in Roald Dahl’s books consist of a first name and surname (some characters have both, others only have a surname or only a first name) I will provide a quantitative analysis for each strategy for the translation of first names and surnames separately for each of Dahl’s works analyzed. A quantitative analysis of the translation strategies of all the books combined will also be provided in a table. Simply lumping all of the translations of the fictional names from the four works selected together into one table, without providing separate tables for each book, would provide no insights into the translation strategies for each separate book.
3.2 Categorization problems
While many of the fictional names in the French and Dutch target texts fell quite clearly into one of the seven categories above, there were a number of cases where arguments could be made for placing the name into two or even more categories. B.J. Epstein experienced similar problems, and, in her analysis, she made the decision to file some proper names into more than one category (199). However, I decided to adhere more strictly to the categories, in part because I felt that this would provide a more clear-cut insight into the process, and also because putting names into multiple categories would render a statistical analysis much more difficult and would convolute the frequencies of the strategies used. In this chapter, I will further elaborate on the difficulties I encountered in categorizing the French and Dutch translations of some of the fictional names in the source text.
3.2.1. On what constitutes a first name
Identifying first names and surnames in three of the four books above, namely Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Witches and Matilda, was fairly straightforward. All of the names adhered to traditional naming convention of combining a given name and a surname. The BFG, however, was a more difficult case altogether. A number of names were easy enough to identify; for example, the main character’s name is Sophie, which is a common English name that has a common Dutch equivalent and is therefore easy to translate (or in this case, adapt) into Dutch. But the book contains many other characters whose names or identifiers raise the question of whether they should be seen as names in the first place. For an example, let us look at the title character, the BFG, short for Big Friendly Giant. ‘The BFG’, at first sight, does not seem to be a name, as it does not really fit our traditional conventions for what a personal name should look like. However, throughout the book, the BFG is only identified with this moniker. Moreover, he identifies himself as such, saying: “I is THE BIG FRIENDLY GIANT! I is the BFG. What is your name?” (The BFG 22). The emphasis on the word ‘your’ implies that ‘the BFG’ is his name. Additionally, all of the other giants are identified by means of similar monikers, and they refer to themselves and to each other by using these names. However, when we take a few steps back and look at the various theories of proper names discussed at the beginning of this chapter, we see that according to Mill and Kripke, a phrase like ‘The Big Friendly Giant’ or ‘The Maidmasher’ could never be classified as a personal name. If, as Mill says, a name is indeed “utterly unmeaning… a word which answers the purpose of showing what thing it is we are talking about, but not of telling anything about it” (qtd. in Van Langendonck 25), ‘the BFG’ most certainly would not be classified as a personal name in reality. It makes sense to assume that, in this fictional universe, the giants were not given these names at birth. Surely the Big Friendly Giant was named (or named himself) for his kindness, and the Maidmasher was named for his proclivity to eating little girls. The baptismal act, as Kripke calls it, was not ‘initial’; the causal chain of references does not go back to the baptismal act, but rather, leads up to this act in the case of the giants.So should the giants’ monikers be classified as true personal names? Although Mill and Kripke would most likely disagree, my tendency is to answer that question affirmatively. We must keep in mind that Mill and Kripke’s respective theories on proper names pertain to real, non-fictional personal names that exist in the real world. Fictional names, as stated above, should be seen as a separate category altogether, as they are not rigid designators in the same sense that personal names in the actual world are. This means that in fiction, personal names can be more flexible and do not have to meet the standard (Western) convention of combining a first name with a surname. Perhaps names like ‘The BFG’ or ‘The Maidmasher’ can be considered personal names in fiction. In fact, in the aforementioned article, Christiane Nord discusses a similar type of proper name in Alice in Wonderland: Apart from names typically denoting a particular kind of referent, like pet names, authors sometimes use names which explicitly describe the referent in question (“descriptive names”). If, in a Spanish novel, a protagonist is called Don Modesto or Doña Perfecta, the readers will understand the name as a description of the character. In the case of the White Rabbit or the blue Caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland, the author proceeds in the opposite direction, using capital letters in order to turn the descriptive denomination into a proper name (…). (184) B.J. Epstein also mentions in her article that she classifies the giant’s monikers as personal proper names (202). In deciding that the names of these giants are, in fact, names, another problem arises. For Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Witches and Matilda, the first names and surnames have been analyzed separately. However, this distinction creates difficulties when it comes to the analysis of the names of the giants. Can a name like The Big Friendly Giant fall within either of those two categories? For the sake of quantitative analysis, a choice must be made. I have opted to classify these fictional names as first names, the reason for this being that to these names, one could add a prepositional phrase that would function as a surname. For instance, if ‘The Maidmasher’ is a first name, a possible surname could be ‘of Giant Country’. Having cleared up this issue, the quantitative analysis of the Dutch and French translations of fictional first names in The BFG can be represented as in table 4.
3.2.2 On addition and explicitation
There are four instances in the Dutch target text where first names are added. In Matilda, there are two characters named Wilfred. The name receives two different translations in both the Dutch and the French target text. In the Dutch target text, the first instance of the name is replaced with ‘Frederik’, while the second is directly retained. In the French target text, the name is replaced twice: once with ‘Gaston’ and once by ‘Guillaume’. It seems, then, that both translators saw these two instances of ‘Wilfred’ as referring to different characters. Upon reading the source text, I am inclined to agree; the first Wilfred appears in a hypothetical situation, in a chapter that is structured radically different from the rest of the book. In the first chapter, namely, the narrator is speaking directly to the reader, telling him what he would tell parents if he werea teacher: “I might even delve deeper into natural history and say, “(…) Your son Wilfred has spent six years as a grub in this school (…)” (Matilda (En.) 11). Wilfred is not a character in the fictional universe of the book, but a hypothetical example of a student. In the second instance in which the character occurs, however, the name refers to one of Matilda’s peers: ““You!” the Trunchbull shouted, pointing a finger the size of a rolling-pin at a boy called Wilfred”(Matilda (En.) 266). It makes sense for both translators to feel that this one single name in the source text warrants two different names in the source texts; the name refers to two different boys. But is this really an addition? B.J. Epstein states that an addition means “to add a new name ad/or its associations and/or some other text where there was none before (…)” (197), and one could certainly argue that in each target text, a completely new name is added. But it is most certainly not true that there was none before. Yes, the target texts contain two names where the source text only had one, but it has become clear from the context that the Wilfreds in the source text are in fact two different people, and the translators have demonstrably opted to reflect that in the target text. If we see ‘Wilfred’ as referring to two different characters, we should perhaps also perceive of Wilfred as being not one, but two different names. In this case, the addition of a new name is a case of explicitation. The existence of the two different characters was implied in the source text, but has been rendered explicit by the addition of another first name in the Dutch and French target text. I struggled with the fact that I felt that explicitation is not entirely the same thing as addition, and so I was unsure whether the category of addition was flawed because it presented a box in which, to me, this translation choice did not precisely fit. Luckily, The Routledge Encyclopedia of Translation Studies came to my aid. It defines explicitation as follows: Explicitation is the technique of making explicit in the target text information that is implicit in the source text. Explicitation (and implicitation) strategies are generally discussed together with addition (and omission) strategies (…). Some scholars regard addition as the more generic and explicitation as the more specific concept (…). (104) Eugene Nida, for instance, indeed classifies explicitation as a subcategory of addition in Toward a Science of Translating: Of the many types of additions which may legitimately be incorporated into a translation, the most common and important are: (a) filling out elliptical expressions; (b) obligatory specification; (c) additions required because of grammatical restructuring; (d) amplification from implicit to explicit status; (e) answers to rhetorical questions; (f) classifiers; (g) connectives; (h) categories of the receptor language which do not exist in the source language; and (i) doublets. (277, italics mine) The Dutch target texts contain a total of four additions, of which only one falls clearly within the subcategory of explicitation. Not all of the additions in the translations are explicitations, but the one explicitation found in the translations of fictional names in the four works analyzed is definitely an addition. Explicitation, then, is contained within the category of addition.
3.2.3 On replacement and translation
One of the reasons B.J. Epstein mentions for assigning multiple categories to one translation is that “(…) sometimes, part of a name was retained, while another part was translated (…)” (199). Indeed, one of the things I struggled most with while categorizing the Dutch and French target text names was very similar to this issue. In my case, I found many names of which a part was translated and another part replaced, which made classifying these names in either of those categories difficult. I mentioned above the preliminary problems I faced with the names of the giants in The BFG. Having decided to regard these names as first names and to analyze them as such, I stumbled upon the fact that, while a number of them were demonstrable translations, a few others did not fit that category as well. For example, ST Meatdripper becomes Vleeshakker in the Dutch target text, and Empiffreur de Viande in the French target text. While the ‘meat-’ part of this fictional name is translated in both cases, neither ‘-hakker’ nor ‘-empiffreur’ are translations of ‘-dripper’; these are both replacements. Similarly, in Matilda, the ST surname Trunchbull becomes Bulstronk in the Dutch TT; partly a translation, partly a replacement. In French, this surname becomes Legourdin, which translates only the ‘trunch-‘ part of the name, but leaves the ‘bull’ connotation out. In B.J. Epstein’s definition, translation is “to break down a name into the nouns or adjectives that form its constituent elements and then recreate it in the target language, sometimes without the connotations” (197). While the translators have in these instances certainly broken the names down into their constituents, not all of them have been translated, and so I chose to view these examples as replacements. And yet, in two other cases where similar translation processes have occurred, I have opted to categorize the target text surnames as translations rather than replacements. This choice has to do with the parts of the names that have been translated. In Matilda, ST Bogwhistle becomes Siffloche in the French target text. Similarly, Rottwinkle is translated as Bigornot. While neither rottwinkle nor bogwhistle are real English words, they are both made up of two morphemes that are either English words or reminiscent of English words. In both cases, the second morpheme determines most of the meaning of the word; a rottwinkle is a kind of winkle, and a bogwhistle is a type of whistle. Therein lies the difference between these two surnames and the replacements mentioned above. In the French target text, Bigornot is a play on the word bigorneau, which means ‘winkle’. Siffloche is a play on the word siffler, meaning ‘to whistle’. In both cases, the most important connotations that the source text names carry are retained. This is why I have classified these two French surnames as translations, in the same way that I have chosen to count Dutch Dophoed for ST Trilby and French Anémone for ST Lavender in Matilda as translations.3.2.4 On adaptation and replacement
More than once, I had trouble deciding whether or not a name should be placed in the adaptation or replacement category. There were a few names that, especially in the Dutch target texts, seemed to be situated somewhere in between, rather than falling strictly within either category. Two examples that illustrate this problem can be found in Charlie and theChocolate Factory. ST Cornelia Prinzmetel becomes Cornelia Prinsetatel in the target text, and Violet Beauregarde becomes Violet Beauderest in the translation. While both first names are directly retained, the surnames receive a peculiar treatment in the Dutch target text. In the case of Beauregarde, the first syllable is directly retained, and ‘-regarde’ is replaced by ‘-derest’. The first syllable of Prinzmetel is adapted, while the ending ‘-metel’ is replaced by ‘-etatel’. In both cases, only part of the surname is replaced. The question is whether that is enough to count them as replacements. The only other option would be to classify these names as instances of adaptation, which B.J. Epstein defines as: “to use the name but change the spelling, grammar, usage, or some other part of it in order to fit the target language or culture” (197). Indeed, in both of these cases, a part of the name is used in the target text. However, whether this was done in order to fit the target language or culture can be debated. A name like ‘Prinzmetel’, although strange, is not necessarily a bad fit in the Dutch target language or culture in this case. Replacement, according to Epstein, means “to replace the name (with a similar name, (…))” (197), and it seems that this would be a better way of describing what has been done here. The source text names have simply been replaced by a similar name in the target text.
3.2.5 On adaptation and direct retention
It seldom occurs that names in the children’s books of Roald Dahl refer to an actual person in reality. Most of the characters are entirely fictional. However, in The BFG, reference is made to two historical figures, namely King Charles the Fifth and Louis the Fifteenth. These names are mentioned in passing, and are not of great significance to the story. However, the categorization of their target text equivalents proved difficult. Seeing as both are historical figures that have existed in reality, they both have real personal names in both target languages. In the Dutch target text, then, Charles becomes Karel and Louis becomes Lodewijk; both were adapted to fit the target language and culture. However, in French, the names of the kings are the same as in English, and so they are directly retained. These two target text names may also be classified as adaptations; they do fit the target language and culture, it just so happens that in order to adapt them, the translator did not need to make any changes. The categorization of these names is completely dependent on which of these two views you find more acceptable.3.2.6 On direct retention and translation
A similar case can be made for certain direct retentions being classified as translations. In Matilda, one character is named after a plant: Hortensia. In the Dutch target text, her name has remained the same. Huberte Vriesendorp was able to directly retain the source text name without losing the ‘plant’ connotation, because the flower carries the same name in Dutch. In the same way that the direct retentions in the French target text mentioned in section 3.2.5 can be seen as adaptations, this particular instance of a direct retention in the Dutch target text may also be regarded as a translation. Again, the choice for a certain category depends entirely on how one chooses to perceive of this target text name. According to B.J. Epstein, to translate a name is “to break down a name into the nouns or adjectives that form its constituent elements and thenrecreate it in the target language, sometimes without the connotations” (197). Because there was no ‘recreation’ necessary, I leaned towards direct retention, although I feel that classifying these two target text names as translations would have been equally justifiable. While analyzing the translations of fictional names in these four Roald Dahl’s works, I found that, while B.J. Epstein’s distinction between the seven strategies seemed quite straightforward at first, categorizing the translations proved more difficult than I initially thought it would be. That being said, the problems I experienced in this never reached so far as to make me question whether this was because of the fact that the categories I was working with were flawed in the first place. Had I used different categories, I am quite certain that similar problems would still have occurred. Translation studies is not an exact science, and while some of the decisions for specific categories can be supported by reasonable arguments, others were based purely on gut instinct. Apparently intuition plays a large role not only in the translation process itself, but also in analyzing other translators’ tactics.
3.3 Translatorial strategies for the separate books
In each table, the first column contains the translation strategy, the second will show the number out of the total of fictional names that have been translated using that particular strategy in the Dutch target text, and the third column will show that number for the French target text. B.J. Epstein also calculates the percentages for the translatorial strategies used, but seeing as the number of names in the source texts is relatively small, percentages in this case would perhaps unjustly add gravitas to certain strategies and give a rather skewed image of the translation process. After all, if only one choice of translation changes, the accompanying percentages also change notably, without really telling us anything significant. The choices for the various translatorial strategies as outlined above are represented in tables 2 to 9 on the following pages.
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 0 0 direct retention 5 9 translation 0 1 adaptation 2 4 explanation 0 0 replacement 7 0 addition 02 0 Table 2. Frequency of translation strategies for first names3 in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 0 0 direct retention 2 11 translation 3 0 adaptation 1 1 explanation 0 0 replacement 7 1 addition 0 0 Table 3. Frequency of translation strategies for surnames in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory 2 In the Dutch translation, Charlie’s name is technically translated as ‘Jacques’, but in the rest of the book, Jacques is referred to by the nickname ‘Sjakie’. In the source text, there is no mention of Charlie being a nickname (although it is not a stretch to assume that it is derived from ‘Charles’), and so the target text nickname could be seen as an addition. However, it is not the case that an entirely new character and name are added, leading me to count this as a replacement. 3 ‘Pondicherry’ as in ‘Prince Pondicherry’ is counted as a first name, as traditionally members of royal families are indicated by their first names (e.g. Prince Harry, Prince William etc.).
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 1 0 direct retention 3 7 translation 6 7 adaptation 4 1 explanation 0 0 replacement 5 4 addition 2 0 Table 4. Frequency of translation strategies for first names in The BFG
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 1 0 direct retention 2 8 translation 0 0 adaptation 4 3 explanation 0 0 replacement 4 0 addition 0 0 Table 5. Frequency of translation strategies for surnames in The BFG
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 1 0 direct retention 9 15 translation 0 0 adaptation 2 1 explanation 0 0 replacement 4 0 addition 0 0 Table 6. Frequency of translation strategies for first names in The Witches
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 0 0 direct retention 6 6 translation 0 0 adaptation 0 0 explanation 0 0 replacement 0 0 addition 0 0 Table 7. Frequency of translation strategies for surnames in The Witches
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 0 04 direct retention 10 13 translation 1 1 adaptation 4 5 explanation 0 0 replacement 8 4 addition 2 1 Table 8. Frequency of translation strategies for first names in Matilda
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 0 0 direct retention 0 1 translation 7 5 adaptation 3 0 explanation 0 0 replacement 3 7 addition 0 0 Table 8. Frequency of translation strategies for surnames in Matilda 4 In both the Dutch and French TT, the nickname ‘Mike’ for ‘Michael’ is not translated. This is a deletion, but because Michael’s given name is in both cases directly retained in the TT, I have opted to count it as such.
3.4 Translatorial strategies for all works combined
All of these results can be combined in order to represent the translators’ choice of strategy when translating first names into the following tables:
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 2,7 % 0 % direct retention 36,49 % 60,27 % translation 9,46 % 12,33 % adaptation 16,22 % 15,07 % explanation 0 % 0 % replacement 32,43 % 10,96 % addition 2,7 % 1,37 % Table 9. Frequency of translation strategies for first names
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 2,32 % 0 % direct retention 23,26 % 60,47 % translation 23,26 % 11,63 % adaptation 18,6 % 9,3 % explanation 0 % 0 % replacement 32,56 % 18,6 % addition 0 % 0 % Table 10. Frequency of translation strategies for surnames Which finally combines the results for first names and surnames in the two target languages into one table:
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 2,56 % 0 % direct retention 31,62 % 60,35 % translation 14,53 % 12,07 % adaptation 17,09 % 12,93 % explanation 0 % 0 % replacement 32,48 % 13,79 % addition 1,71 % 0,86 % Table 11. Frequency of translation strategies for personal names
3.5 Preliminary conclusions
While the reasons or motivations behind the translators’ choices cannot be deduced from this qualitative analysis, a number of observations can certainly be made with regard to the frequencies of translatorial strategies employed. Firstly, if we look at tables 9 and 10, the most notable difference between the Dutch and French target texts is that direct retention as a translatorial strategy for first names is employed more frequently in the French translations than it is in Dutch. The difference in frequency is striking; while a little less than a third of the ST first names is retained in Dutch, this rate for the French target texts is higher than 60%. For surnames, that difference is even greater; the French direct retention rate for surnames is almost three times as high as the Dutch direct retention rate. Secondly, for both first names and surnames, replacement as a strategy is employed more frequently in the Dutch target texts than it is in the French target texts. Source text surnames are replaced almost twice as often in the Dutch target texts as they are in French, and for first names, the Dutch replacement rate is almost three times as high as the frequency of replacement in the French target texts. Lastly, as we can see in Table 10, it is interesting to see that deletion is employed in a very small number of cases in the Dutch target texts, whereas it is not used as a translatorial strategy in any of the French translations. If we look at the rates of the translatorial strategies on the level of the separate books, we can see that the strategies are not employed consistently for each work. Whereas this is perhaps to be expected for the French translations, which were carried out by different translators, it is interesting to see that there are certainly a number of differences in the Dutch target texts too, even though they were all translated by Huberte Vriesendorp. Firstly, while direct retention comes after replacement and translation as the most frequent strategies employed for the translation of surnames in the Dutch target texts overall, it is the only strategy employed for the translation of surnames in The Witches. It is probably not coincidental that direct retention is also by far the most popular strategy for the translation of the first names from that source text into Dutch. Secondly, translation is not used at all as a strategy for translating first names in The Witches or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. In Matilda it is only employed once. However, in The BFG, six out of 21 first names were translated: almost one third of the total. This may be explained by the fact that the giants’ monikers, which are counted as first names, are very descriptive in nature and are therefore more likely to be translated. This will be further discussed in the qualitative analysis of The BFG. For the French translation of The Witches, direct retention and adaptation were the only two strategies employed, with the former accounting for no fewer than 21 out of 22 first names and surnames in the book. The same two strategies were the only ones used for the French translations of the surnames in The BFG and of fourteen out of fifteen first names in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. In fact, direct retention is the most frequently used translatorial strategy, except in the translation of the first names in The BFG and the surnames in Matilda. It seems that over all, the translator of Matilda was more creative in his translatorial choices than the other French translators. This is further illustratedby the fact that he employs replacement more often than the others, especially for surnames. For surnames, translation is his second most used option. The fact that over 60% of first names was directly retained in the French target texts can perhaps be explained by the fact that many common English given names are actually borrowed from French. However, the same cannot be said for surnames, which the French translators have nonetheless opted to directly retain in 60,47% of cases. The inconsistencies between the French target texts are likely explained by the fact that the four source texts were translated into French by different translators, while the Dutch translations were all carried out by the same person. Looking solely at the quantitative analysis, it seems that there was no consensus between the four translators on when to employ which strategy. However, this cannot be said for certain until we look at examples of translations and try to determine the motivation behind each translator’s choices. In the following chapter, each of the books analyzed will be looked at more closely, in an attempt to learn more about the reasoning behind the translators’ choices.
Chapter 4: A qualitative analysis of the
translations of fictional names in Roald Dahl’s
works
From the quantitative analysis and the preliminary conclusions that have been drawn from the outcome of this analysis, it has become apparent that there are a number of differences in the approach towards the translation of first names and surnames that is taken in both target languages. Looking at the translations in more detail will hopefully be helpful in determining where these differences come from. I will take a closer look of the ways in which each of the translatorial translation strategies outlined above are employed in both target languages.
4.1 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
4.1.1. First names
Translatorial strategy Dutch TT French TT
deletion 0 0 direct retention 5 9 translation 0 1 adaptation 2 4 explanation 0 0 replacement 7 0 addition 0 0 Table 2. Frequency of translation strategies for first names in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Dutch target text The numbers from the quantitative analysis in this instance show a significant difference in approach between the two target texts. In the Dutch target text, five first names are directly retained: Veruca, Violet, Charlotte, Angina and Cornelia. If we look at the data on these names in the online Nederlandse Voornamenbank by the Meertens Instituut, it becomes apparent that Charlotte5 and Cornelia6 were both common first names in the Netherlands at the time of publication of the Dutch target text. Retaining these names directly is a straightforward and logical choice, because they would not pose any problems for the young Dutch reader. Violet, Veruca and Angina are counted as direct retentions here, but they may also be viewed as translations. Besides being a common first name in English, violet is also the name of a colour, which in Dutch carries the same name. Although Violet as a first name was not popular in the Netherlands at the time of publication7, it was not unheard of. Angina and Veruca are not ‘real’ first names, but are derived from the terms for medical conditions; Verruca plantaris is a type of wart, while Angina tonsillaris is an infection of the throat. Both words are derived from the Latin medical terminology, which is employed in a similar manner in Dutch medicine. ST Angina and Veruca give the reader signs for the interpretation of the character they belong to, while the name Violet foreshadows the fate of the girl carrying it. Veruca turns out to be an extremely unpleasant girl, and Angina is a woman who seems unable to speak at a normal volume; she is always screaming, shrieking or shouting. Violet’s disobedient attitude eventually results in her turning into a giant blueberry. In this sense, these names carry more meaning than the other, ‘normal’ first names in the book, which tell the reader nothing about their carriers’ personalities Vriesendorp likely recognized these connotations; directly retaining the names in this case allows for these descriptive elements to be maintained in the target text. The direct retention of ST Veruca is further necessitated by the context in which it occurs. Upon meeting this character, Willy Wonka exclaims: “You do 5 <https://www.meertens.knaw.nl/nvb/naam/is/charlotte> 6 <https://www.meertens.knaw.nl/nvb/naam/is/cornelia> 7 <https://www.meertens.knaw.nl/nvb/naam/is/violet>
have an interesting name, don’t you? I always thought that a veruca was a sort of wart that you got on the sole of your foot!” (Chocolate Factory 81). In this case, Dahl did not leave Vriesendorp a choice but to keep into account the connotations of the name. The name of Prince Pondicherry, an Indian character, refers to the Indian city of Pondicherry (which has officially been spelled Puducherry since 2006), and has been transliterated into ‘Pondicherrie’ in the Dutch target text. The reason for this is unclear, as the old Dutch spelling of the name of the city was also Pondicherry with a –y. A possible motive for this transliteration could be that replacing final –y with final –ie in Dutch gives young Dutch readers a less ambiguous clue towards its pronunciation. A Dutch child might be inclined to pronounce final –y as /ɛɪ/ rather than as /i/, or at least experience some confusion as to what the correct way to say the name would be. Replacing final – y with –ie eliminates this source of confusion. The same adaptation is made for ST Willy, which becomes Willie in the Dutch target text. Finally, seven first names are replaced in the Dutch target text. In each case, the source text name is one that is uncommon in the Dutch language, and is therefore replaced by a common Dutch first name that would be easy to understand for the Dutch child reader. For example, ST Joe becomes TT Jakob, ST George becomes TT Willem and ST Mike becomes TT Joris. These first names from the source text are all common, ‘normal’ first names in English, and so they are replaced in the target text by common, ‘normal’ first names in Dutch. It seems that the translator has opted to retain the names that are also common in Dutch directly, while names that would be difficult to understand or pronounce for the Dutch child reader are either adapted or replaced. French target text The French translator seems to take a different approach to the translation of these first names. Of the fourteen first names in the target text, the French translator directly retains no fewer than nine: Augustus, Veruca, Mike, Charlie, Joe, Georgina, Willy, Charlotte and Cornelia. According to the 2011 Fichier des Prénoms of the Institut National de la Statistique et des Etudes Economiques, Willy and Charlotte were common names in France at the time of the publication of the translation8. Mike and Joe were not very common, but also not unheard of. The other five names, however, were unknown in France at the time of publication. A difference in strategy can be perceived here between the Dutch and French translations; whereas uncommon first names are replaced in the Dutch target text, they are directly retained in the French one. Four first names from the source text are adapted. A closer look at each adaptation reveals that no great changes were made. They are as follows: TT Violette for ST Violet, TT Joséphine for ST Josephine, TT Georges for ST George and TT Pondichéry for ST Pondicherry. Necessary adaptations with regard to spelling have been made in order for the first names to fit the orthographic conventions of the target language; for example, ST Violet receives ‘-te’, an inflection that necessarily denotes femininity in French. Other than that, no changes have been made. All of these adaptations are the result of what Vinay 8 <https://dataaddict.fr/prenoms/#charlotte,willy,joe,charlie,mike>
and Darbelnet call servitude (15); these adaptations are obligatory due to the structure of the target language system. The explicitation of gender in the target text is required by the systemic conventions of the French language, and is therefore an obligatory adaptation. The translator simply had no other choice. TT Angine for ST Angina is a different case. This is a translation; angine is the French word for the medical condition. As described above, ST Violet, Veruca and Angina are different from the other first names in the sense that these three names seem to carry more meaning and are a way of guiding the reader towards the interpretation of their carriers. This may be a clue as to why Élisabeth Gaspar chose to translate the latter. The fact that this is a name that has been made up, and is not used as a rigid designator in the real world, allows for more liberties when it comes to translation. Perhaps Gaspar wished to keep the connotations behind the name, and has therefore chosen to translate it. If this is the case, TT Violette for ST Violet may also be regarded as a translation; it just so happens that the French word for violet is the same. Final ‘-te’ is necessary because its carrier is female; the French rules with regard to grammatical gender dictate this inflection. Unlike in English and Dutch, the medical condition Verruca plantaris is known in French not by its Latin, but by its French name, verrue plantaire. One would perhaps expect that Gaspar would have opted for a translation in this case as well, seeing as the name is also more descriptive in nature. However, translating as Verrue would entail a much larger deviation from the source text than any of the other first names. TT Verrue for ST Veruca would simply not fit in the source text-oriented approach Gaspar seems to have taken with regard to the translation of these names. In this case, TT Angine for ST Angina is not a digression from the strategy, but an exception that proves the rule. The ‘problem’ of ST Veruca losing its descriptive nature in the target text is solved by the context; Willy Wonka’s exclamations are translated as “Quel nom intéressant tu as! J’ai toujours pensé que c’était celui d’une sorte de verrue qu’on a sur la plante du pied!” (Chocolaterie 88). The French word for wart is verrue, a cognate of the word verruca, and the likeness between the two words ensures that the reference is not lost on the French child reader.
