Please stop translating like this

Regarding the phenomenon of the whimsical untranslated turd

Book being tossed across the room.

Literature in translation is having a well-deserved moment. Hardly a week goes by without a critic praising the quality of the English translation of a book (many times translated from a language s/he can’t read). And perhaps it is because translation is so underpaid — and has been so improperly recognised for so long — that having something negative to say about a translated work is for some an offence akin to hate speech. Therefore it is customary to start any piece betraying a modicum of malice about this nobler of metiers with a disclaimer about the importance of translation. This is my disclaimer: translation is important; translators — by expanding the world of possibilities for readers— do important work; without them readers would have to take the trouble to learn a language and no one has unlimited money and time to do this ad eternum. Let’s be realistic: a piece exists in its original language first, and a translation is always an approximation to this original. But to have an approximation is almost always better than having nothing at all.