Is there a word in English to describe the frustration I feel before my wandering train of thought? – Defining culture-specific emotions

As always, I sit myself down in front of this old computer with the intention of start talking about A and somehow my train of thought just can’t stay in A – in a matter of seconds, it takes a life of its own and starts travelling from D to N, making a stopover in H and even going as far as Z. If I’m lucky, it brings me back to A but not without carrying a heavy load of scrambled thoughts and ideas that I then need to work very hard to make any sense of.

I get excited about many of them, I trash many others but ultimately, I get exasperated by this very testing, independent, self-absorbed entity in my brain that I try want to subdue by any means. And I wonder, is there a term for this emotion in the English language? Or in any other language for that matter? Is there a term that captures the frustration of a writer struggling to restrain a wandering, straying train of thought that refuses to stay in one and only one topic? There should be because I reckon this is an innate, genetically determined predisposition. At least in my case. I have always suffered from it, many of my teachers and supervisors had diagnosed it (and I thank them for their patience and support :))

Runaway Train of Thought

How do I call the emotion I experience when I can’t control my very irritating wandering train of thought?

Anyway… (that’s one of the words I use to try to bring my extremely tangential mind to A and remember where I wanted to start), the question here is whether the aggravation I feel in the case I explained above can be described in a single word in a particular language. Just like whether, as questioned by American essayist Pamela Haag in her article  Relationship words that are not translatable into English , is it possible to find words in the English language that describe emotions such as the Bantu word Ilunga – the willingness to forgive abuse the first time, tolerate it the second but never the third? Or, is it possible to find an English equivalent to the feeling expressed by the Polish words tgsknota (noun) and tgsknic‘ (verb)?.

Anna Wierzbicka’s work on defining emotions in different languages

Australian linguist Anna Wierzbicka has spent many years putting some thought into this and has come to the conclusion that although the above Polish terms have no simple, monolexemic English equivalents, it is possible to explain in English what the relevant feeling is, if one uses semantic primitives to decompose the complex Polish concept(s) into parts whose names do have simple English equivalents:

X tgskni do Y (“X feels ‘tgsknota’  to Y”)  =

X is far away from Y

X thinks of Y

X feels something good toward Y

X wants to be together with Y

X knows he or she cannot be together with Y

X feels something bad because of that.

In her 1986 essay “Human emotions – Universal or culture specific?,” Wierzbicka sees some potential similarities between the Polish tgskni and several English words such as homesickmisspine,  nostalgia, but maintains that they all differ from one another and from the Polish term as well (and I quote her directly just to illustrate the magnitude of her understanding of the different nuances of the terms):

“For example, if a teenage daughter leaves the family home and goes to study in a distant city, her Polish parents would usually tgsknic’, but one could not say that they were homesick for the daughter, that they felt nostalgia for her, and one would hardly say that they were pining  after her. One could say that they missed her, but miss implies much less than tgsknik. One could say to a friend, “We missed you at the meeting,” without wishing to imply that anything remotely similar to pain or suffering was involved; and yet tgsknit does imply something like pain or suffering (in fact, the best gloss I have come across is “the pain of distance”).  The word miss implies neither pain nor distance. For example, one can miss someone who has died (“My  grandmother died recently. You have no idea how much I miss her”).  But one would not use tgsknic’ in a case like this, because tgsknic’ implies a real separation in space. In this respect, tgsknic‘ is related to homesick. But of course homesick implies that the experiencer him or herself has gone far away from the target of the emotion.

The exact similarities and differences between tgsknic’ and homesick can be seen if one compares the explication of the former concept, given earlier with the explication  of the latter, given here:

X is homesick  =

X is far away from his or her home

X thinks of his or her home

X feels something good toward his or her home

X wants to be there

X knows he or she cannot be there at that time

X feels something bad because of that.

Pining differs from tgsknic‘ in its single-mindedness and its, so to speak, debilitating effect:

X is pining after Y  =

X is away from Y

X thinks of Y

X feels something good toward Y

X wants to be with Y

X knows that he or she cannot be with Y

X feels something bad because of that

X can’t think of anything else because of that.

Miss, as a form of emotion, can perhaps be explicated as follows:

X (Jane)  misses Y (Sally) =

Y is not with X

X thinks of Y

X would want to be with Y

X thinks that being with Y would cause him or her to feel something good.

Universal emotion terms?

It seems natural to assume, then, that each language will have it own set of emotion-words that are used to define those emotions that the members of the culture recognise as important to them. We can assume that these language-specific sets overlap and, perhaps, that the closer two cultures are, the greater the overlap between their respective sets of emotion words. But we can also assume that the more distant apart a culture is from another in space and conceptualisation, the harder it would be to share specific emotions. And that is certainly a challenged faced by translators and interpreters and professionals of intercultural communication.

But is it equally natural to assume that there may be a set of fundamental, universal, presumably innate human emotions shared by all regardless of culture-specific idiosyncracies?

According to Izard and Buechler (1980: 168), the fundamental emotions are

( 1)  interest,

(2) joy,

(3) surprise,

(4) sadness,

(5) anger,

(6) disgust,

(7) contempt,

(8) fear,

(9) shame/shyness,

(10) guilt.

I, like Anna Wierzbicka, am not happy when I see English-centred claims of this kind. The fact that the English language seems to be perfectly capable of encapsulating supposedly human universal emotions makes me feel quite uneasy. I look at the list and I have a pretty certain (although I’m in no way able to prove it) that quite a number of ethnic groups will not share the feeling behind the English terms contempt or disgust. Wierzbicka, in fact, explains that the Polish language does not have a word corresponding exactly to the English word disgust or that the Australian Aboriginal language Gidjingali does not seem to distinguish lexically fear from shame.

If Izard and Buechler were Polish or Gidjingali speakers, we might have a different list of “universal emotions”. Ethnocentric research is a risk we are accustomed to, we just need to be able to question it and challenge it when necessary. Producing a list of ten shared human emotions is a pretty big claim and certainly one that needs to be carefully considered.

This ridiculous train of thought of mine, though, is still frustrating the bejesus out of me and I have no word to call it. If you experience the same, in whatever language, and have a name for it, share it, please. 🙂

Transcreating – Thinking global, acting local

Those of us involved in the translation industry have had to embrace technological advancements in our field, and generally in the world around us, for quite some time now. Not only in relation to the way we work and the technologies we need to use to research and deliver our final products, but also in relation to the way we seek employment, the way we deal with our potential clients as well as the type of work we do and the fields of expertise we are made to engage with. It’s a case of adapt or perish.

In our case, we are generally forced to adapt once others have reacted to specific changes. Multinationals, publishing houses, localisation agencies and other players in the game, take a step to ensure their survival and we have no choice but to adapt to their changes. Consequently, translators today no longer translate the old fashion way, we also localise, we proofread for others, we have become experts in a wide range of CAT tools, and, interestingly as well, we transcreate. We translate and we recreate.

Triptychs of Strangers #20, The Analog Lover - London

Translation and recreation = Transcreation

I’m going to be extremely simplistic about this process but I want to quickly highlight how was it that transcreation became a necessity for most of us.

When it comes to companies making a decision to expand overseas, generally, at least in the earlier days, they had to opt for a standardisation all of their products and services and embrace a single marketing strategy for all countries, or on the other hand, they have to consider each local market independently and create a marketing mix and a series of strategies and campaigns designed to fit each and every one of their unique characteristics. It generally comes down to either a standardisation of products and documentation to save costs or a market adaptation to tailor to the cultural needs of each market. As I argued in an earlier post, most companies, in the end, tend to opt for an adaptation to cultural and other differences to avoid alienating customers.

Although it is often argued that with globalisation the international market has become too homogenised and that multinational companies can market their products and services the same all over the world by using identical strategies, the truth is that people in different countries speak different languages and abide by different rules and regulations. There are different economic conditions, political stability, customs, aesthetics, legal systems. There are far too many aspects to throw everyone in a single basket and hope that the message that is delivered and the way it’s delivered will make sense for everyone on this planet.

Having recognised diversity as a key element in their marketing programs and budgets, companies needed to find an effective way to persuade people in multiple cultures to buy their product or service. And after repeated cross-cultural marketing blunders, they finally realised that is not enough to be aware of the diversity of their markets, it is also essential to get the message they intended to convey delivered professionally. Copy is key in translating marketing messaging and a review of the marketing material by a native speaker just want fit the bill any more. Markets have become far too sophisticated and companies and advertisers need to look towards bilingual professionals who have a complete mastery of the intricacies of at least two languages to deliver the nuances they planned on delivering originally in English: “Think global; act local”.
So, enter the former translator (with a flavour for creative writing), now transcreator, trying to balance the demands imposed by having to promote a brand that is recognised around the world, while tailoring an advertising message for a specific local market. Not an easy task. He or she will be charged with creating a promotional text based on the English (in most cases) original, in a way that brings the intended emotions to life, intriguing audiences, luring them and, ultimately, prompting them to buy into the concept. Copywriting, you ask? Yes, that’s right.

Transcreation = Copywriting?
So, wouldn’t it be easier for a company to merely hire a copywriter/s in the target country who can produce the text from scratch? Well, most clients will want the ‘feel’ of the original text to be maintained, which requires someone who has an intimate knowledge of the source language – they will have to understand why the message works and produce something that is localised for the target language.

The difference here is that the transcreator does not really have to transfer the meaning from a source text to a target text. No, the transcreator is scavenging for identical reactions and emotions as in the source language. And yes, lots of you would have already rolled your eyes and argued that a good translation should always try to reflect these aspects of the source text. And I agree (to an extent, of course, because some types of texts, like technical texts will usually not contain many emotions and cultural references). Transcreators dig for identical reactions derived not only from the message, but from the style, the cultural nuances, games of words, sense of humour, images, metaphors.

Marketing and advertising copy often contain puns or references to imagery used specifically by the particular company the transcreator is working for. Generally companies will have a unique Tone of Voice to adhere to, a specific way to communicate with customers, which can go from casual, to mentoring, to instructional, to masculine, etc. And they will also want you to convey your message taking into consideration demographic differences and target groups, not just consumers, but also other external stakeholders and resellers and stakeholders.

So, if you still want to go ahead and add the title of transcreator to your CV, you need to be creative and possess a superior knowledge of both the source and target languages and their respective cultural backgrounds. Learn to love the product you write about and write about it enthusiastically. Transcreators are also expected to provide cultural advice: they should tell the end client when a specific translation or image does not work for the target audience.

And also, importantly, don’t forget that the advertising world needs your brochure transcreated by yesterday, in two or three different versions and with a back translation to help the end client understand the options you have provided. If that fast-paced working environment is your thing, then, welcome to the world of transcreation.