The Translator’s Note

Taking the child by the hand, He said to her, “Talitha kum!” (which translated means, “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). Mark 5:41 NASB

Translated – Why does Mark include a translation of Yeshua’s words? The answer, of course, is that he wants his readers to know what Yeshua said. But if Aramaic were the common language of the people in Israel in the first century, then the translations would be superfluous. You might argue, “Mark’s reading audience were not Jews. If they were native Greek speakers, then he would need to translate the Aramaic sentence so they could understand it.” That seems to make sense—except, that would mean all of Yeshua’s statements would need to be translated. But Mark’s gospel makes no indication that all of Yeshua’s words were in Aramaic and needed to be translated into Greek. In fact, the occasions when a translation is required are very limited and typically deal with clear Aramaic phrases. That suggests that Yeshua commonly spoke a different language and only on these rare occasions chose to speak in Aramaic. The question is why?

Suppose that the occasions where Aramaic phrases occur are events where the subjects in the situation commonly spoke Aramaic. For example, this particular event occurs in a family home with a young child. Suppose that Aramaic was the common household language in this home. Then addressing the child in her familiar tongue would be quite appropriate. But this says nothing about the other audiences, the crowds whom Yeshua usually addressed. Israel in the first century was a multi-linguistic environment. Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek and probably Latin were all used. Yeshua’s choice of language is determined by the subjects in the conversation, not by the common tongue of the general audience.

But this gives us an occasion to reflect on the process of translation. John Ciardi makes an excellent point about translation as an art, not a science.

When the violin repeats what the piano has just played, it cannot make the same sounds and it can only approximate the same chords. It can, however, make recognizably the same “music,” the same air. But it can do so only when it is as faithful to the self-logic of the violin as it is to the self-logic of the piano.

Language too is an instrument, and each language has its own logic. I believe that the process of rendering from language to language is better conceived as a “transposition” than as a “translation,” for “translation” implies a series of word-for-word equivalences that do not exist across language boundaries any more than piano sounds exist in the violin.

The notion of word-for-word equivalents also strikes me as false to the nature of poetry. Poetry is not made of words but of word-complexes, elaborate structures involving, among other things, denotations, connotations, rhythms, puns, juxtapositions, and echoes of the tradition in which the poet is writing. It is difficult in prose and impossible in poetry to juggle such a complex intact across the barrier of language.[1]

Why is it important to recognize this aspect of translation? We should notice several points. First, whenever we have an official translation in the text (as we do in this verse), we must recognize the influence of assumptions about the subject’s language. In this case, perhaps some value needs to be placed on the fact that this is spoken to a child in her home. Second, and more broadly, we must realize that all translation leave some nuances, some assumptions, some intentional cultural understanding, on the table. If Yeshua taught in Hebrew (and occasionally in Aramaic), and we read his words in any other language (which is obviously the case in the Greek New Testament), then we will automatically leave behind details, assumptions, cultural innuendos, etc. that would be apparent to a native speaker. As an example, you might consider the deeper meanings of the parable we commonly call “the prodigal son.” Finally, since we have only the Greek New Testament, it is imperative that we as Greek readers (or as readers of further translations) avail ourselves by every means possible of the native cultural information that might have been lost in the translation.

In other words, get to work. The task is not over simply because you can read the Bible in English. You must search for the tune being played by each instrument.

Topical Index: translation, Aramaic, Ciardi, Mark 5:41

[1] John Ciardi, translator’s note, The Inferno by Dante Alighieri, Translated by John Ciardi, Signet Classics, 2001, p. ix