In recent years, the popularity of Japanese literature has risen in Brazil, and a much larger share of Japanese titles is now being made available in direct translation into Portuguese. Rita Kohl, who has worked on fiction by authors such as Yoko Ogawa and Hiro Arikawa, is one of the most prolific literary translators working with this pair of languages.
In this interview with Editor-at-Large for Japan, David Boyd, Kohl speaks about several of her recent translations—from Haruki Murakami’s Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973 (Ouça a canção do vento & Pinball 1973) to Sayaka Murata’s Convenience Store Woman (Querida konbini) and Earthlings (Terráqueos). She also touches on the current state of Japanese literature in Brazil.
David Boyd (DB): Who’s reading Japanese literature in Brazil? What kind of translations are they reading?
Rita Kohl (RK): I’ll try to give you my general impression of the reception of Japanese literature in Brazil, although I wouldn’t say that I’m particularly knowledgeable about the publishing world here. I used to read reviews of translations much more closely, but I haven’t been able to stay on top of it lately, as—thankfully—there’s been so much more of it.
One important thing to keep in mind is that the direct translation of Japanese fiction by mainstream publishers is a relatively recent development. Up to the 1990s, we had some pivot translations from English, such as a few novels by Mishima translated into Portuguese in the 1980s, but direct translations typically came from the academic world or the Japanese-Brazilian community, and didn’t really reach a popular readership.
This started to change toward the end of the 1990s. Leiko Gotoda’s translation of Miyamoto Musashi, published in 1999 by Estação Liberdade, had a significant impact; I say this because it became something of a bestseller (but as this work was the subject of my master’s research, I might be biased). Since then, translations of Japanese literature have been steadily increasing, and are mostly translated directly from Japanese, although it’s still not uncommon to see some indirect translations (thrillers by Natsuo Kirino and Kanae Minato come to mind).
The shift we’ve seen from indirect to direct translation isn’t limited to Japanese literature. It reflects a change in public perception of translation on the whole, which can also be seen, for example, in the translation of Russian literature. At the same time, since editors typically can’t read the original work, we continue to depend on the canon of Japanese literature translated into other languages, and I feel as though we’ve been trying to catch up, translating authors who were translated into other languages quite some time ago: Jun’ichirō Tanizaki, Yasunari Kawabata, Yukio Mishima, Sōseki Natsume, and so on. In contemporary literature, the overwhelming majority of translated works are by Haruki Murakami, but we also have some books by Banana Yoshimoto, Hiromi Kawakami, Yoko Ogawa, Ryu Murakami, and Sayaka Murata. I think that a lot of these new additions are the result of an effort to translate and publish more female authors. Personally, I’m very happy with this development, and I tend to prioritize women authors when recommending novels or thinking about what I’d like to translate next.
To be honest, I don’t think I have a clear answer as to who reads these books. Unfortunately, we don’t have very many readers of literature in Brazil to begin with. The book market is relatively small. Of course, there are a few patterns among readers, like those who read Musashi out of an interest in martial arts, or (mostly young) people who start as fans of manga and anime, and eventually move on to literature. And, as always, Orientalism may play a significant role in the attraction that some people feel, turning to literature as a way to get to know or understand Japan as an “other.”
One thing I’ve noticed is that Haruki Murakami has a particular readership that isn’t necessarily reading other Japanese authors. Quite a few of his fans seem to have read many (sometimes all) of his books and nothing else from Japan, so I feel like he reaches a somewhat different audience.
Recently, I’ve also seen a significant increase in social media and communities centered on literature and books. I wouldn’t say that the publishing world is thriving here, especially under the current circumstances, but I’m very happy to see things moving in this direction. I think these channels and communities can be a great way for readers to get to know new titles, and for authors, publishers and translators to promote what they’ve been working on. Translation is solitary work, so I’m enjoying the direct feedback from readers through this sort of community.
DB: What have you been working on recently?
RK: The last novel that I translated was Earthlings (Terráqueos) by Sayaka Murata. It’s a heavy book, and it was difficult work to handle during the pandemic, but I’m a big fan of Murata’s work. I’m curious to see how this book will be read here. I translated Convenience Store Woman (Querida konbini) a few years ago; it has been well received, but because that book is relatively “light” for her, some readers might be surprised by Earthlings.
I also recently translated a picture book for young children, Yoru no kaerimichi by Akiko Miyakoshi, which I loved to do, because I have a toddler and children’s books are basically all I’ve been reading for the past year. Also, after a few novels, it’s just amazing to get a book done with fewer than three hundred words!
Right now, I’m working on Seiko Ito’s Imagination Radio (tentatively titled Rádio Imaginação), which deals with the Tohoku tsunami. I’m very excited about it. I love the book, and I’m happy to introduce a new author to Brazilian readers. Personally, I feel very moved by it because I lived in Japan in 2011 and—although I wasn’t there on March 11—the earthquake had a very strong impact on me. Also, the book discusses loss and asks how we can listen to, and deal with, the voices of the dead—themes that I feel are very close to all of us now, sadly. The style and structure are different from other things I’ve translated, so I’m still trying to find the most appropriate voice. But now that I’m a little more confident in this job, I can appreciate the joy in this stage of the process. After Imagination Radio, I’ll translate the most recent short story collection by Haruki Murakami. I’ve translated a few of his novels, but no short stories. I really enjoyed the stories in this collection, so I’m looking forward to working on it.
DB: Could you say a little about how translating Earthlings was different from Convenience Store Woman?
RK: One of my biggest concerns when translating Convenience Store Woman was how to convey to readers what a konbini is, and also all the different kinds of employment that appear in the novel and the social expectations attached to them. I wanted to do that without weighing the text down too much, since it’s so direct and amusing. Another issue was that I didn’t want the “strangeness” of the novel—the way that the protagonist thinks or the words she uses to describe the world—to come across as simply sounding like a weird or stiff translation. I also didn’t want those things to be erased in the editing process. There was a lot of back and forth with editors with comments like “Is she actually using this word? Does she actually mean it that way?”
While translating Earthlings, I added a few comments for the editors, explaining unusual expressions or images, to make sure that everyone knew that those choices were intentional.
I was very excited when the publisher wanted to follow Convenience Store Woman with another work by Murata, so I agreed to translate Earthlings before reading it—something I had never done before. When I first read it, I questioned my decision, particularly with the scenes that deal with child abuse. I feel some responsibility for the work I’m bringing to readers, and I wouldn’t want to translate something that deals with this subject in a careless manner. In the end, I really enjoyed the book. I could understand where Murata was coming from, and how those scenes fit in the whole narrative, but I knew it would be a more emotionally draining process than translating Convenience Store Woman.
And then 2020 happened, so I translated it during a global pandemic (under the Bolsonaro government). While it was easier in a sense, because I was already used to Murata’s style, overall it was a much more demanding experience. It’s hard to compare them. One thing that I really enjoyed while working on Earthlings was exchanging a few emails with Ginny Tapley Takemori, who did the English translation. She was very kind and insightful, with an enthusiasm for the novel that I found contagious.
DB: What about Murakami? What sort of things are you thinking about when translating his work? What goes into making his voice (or voices)?
RK: Murakami was my first experience with contemporary Japanese literature when I was an undergraduate. I fell in love with his books and became a huge fan, so part of me still finds it hard to believe that I’m translating his books. I enjoy translating them; I’m always surprised by how much easier I find it, compared to other authors. I don’t think it is simply a matter of volume (since he is the author I’ve translated the most), because I’ve felt this way since the first ones, Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973 (published together as Ouça a canção do vento & Pinball 1973). Maybe there’s something that just clicks; I think his style and the voices in most of his texts match up with a kind of Portuguese that comes pretty naturally to me. That might explain why I got an award for the translation of these two novellas, which was extremely surprising. The translation of Killing Commendatore (O assassinato do comendador) was a bit harder, mostly because it’s such a long novel; I lived inside that world for quite a while, in which time I was pregnant and then raising a small baby. But, in general, I have a lot of fun with his work.
I also wonder if I feel less pressure translating Murakami because he’s already so well established, while with previously untranslated authors, I feel somewhat responsible for the first impression on Brazilian readers. At the same time, it’s a bit frustrating that he’s been so disproportionately translated when there are many other wonderful contemporary authors. He’s become a sort of brand, so other Japanese writers are always being compared to him, and people seem to be looking for “the next Murakami,” which is not fair to the richness of Japanese literature. I’m happy that he has such a loyal readership, and he has definitely opened a lot of doors for Japanese literature around the world. I’m just anxious to see different people passing through those doors.
This is especially true of women, as I mentioned before. I’m a little tired of the portrayal of women in Murakami’s works. I’m bothered not only by the roles they tend to play in the narrative (as Mieko Kawakami pointed out so well in her interview with him), but also by a sort of insensitivity to the female experience or point of view, which seems to be justified by this image of women as mysterious creatures that men can’t even hope to comprehend. Meanwhile, as a woman, throughout my entire life, I’ve been expected to identify with male characters and narrators who are presented simply as human beings. This is in no way particular to him, of course. I could say the same about many other books that I’ve read and loved. But I think we’re more aware of it now, thankfully. So, while I enjoy the work, these issues are also on my mind when I’m translating Murakami.
Rita Kohl is a Japanese-Portuguese translator based in São Paulo. She holds degrees in Japanese and Portuguese from the University of São Paulo, and an MA in Comparative Literature and Culture from the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences at the University of Tokyo. Kohl’s translations include fiction by Yoko Ogawa, Hiro Arikawa, and many others.
David Boyd is Assistant Professor of Japanese at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. He has translated fiction by Hiroko Oyamada, Mieko Kawakami, and Hideo Furukawa, among others.
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