Bryan Bibb

The Bible in Church and Academy

The Voice Bible: Words of God and Man

Michael Bird posted his positive review of The Voice Bible translation from Thomas Nelson. This project is a “dynamic equivalence” based translation, that is, one that is not constrained by a requirement to render the text literally, “word for word.” I have posted before about the impossibility of word-for-word translation, and I support Nelson’s effort to create innovative new wordings and formats for the biblical text.

I haven’t spent much time with The Voice Bible, so I am not ready to offer a critical analysis of their interpretive choices. However, I was intrigued by one decision that seems to be misguided: their distinction between Roman and Italic type. As Michael says, they use “italics to indicate words not strictly derived from translations, but [that] bring out the nuance of the text.”

I wrote here about how advocates of the King James Bible claim that typefaces can open a window into the “words of God” vs. “the words of man” [as they would put it] in the biblical text. The idea is that translators use a regular typeface for English words that correspond to the Hebrew and Greek source text, and italics for any words that are necessary in English but not “found” in the original.

Look at the examples provided by Michael, and notice which parts are put into italics. These italics reflect an unfortunate accommodation to those who demand literal translation. If the translators really could have translated the text without these italic phrases, why wouldn’t they just do that? By marking these words and phrases as secondary additions, they imply that “dynamic” translation is really just commentary or amplification, textual categories that have less authority than translation in the world of Bible versions.

For example, here is Genesis 1:1:

“In the beginning, God created everything: the heavens above and the earth below. Here’s what happened:”

I really like this translation. The idiom “heavens and earth” is a merism, that is, a figure of speech in which two things are supposed to stand in for a fuller reality. To create “the heavens and the earth” means to create everything, not just two specific things. Their translation does a nice job of conveying that idea, but they undermine their own translation by suggesting that the word “everything” isn’t really part of the translation.

This is a missed opportunity. The publishers have been too timid in the face of market realities. It seems that they use these italics to make certain kinds of Christian readers feel better about this new version. However, they end up reaffirming problematic assumptions about the nature of biblical translation, and undercutting their own project.

Identity and Vocation

I turned 42 today, which is my favorite number, since it’s the answer to the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything. It was a good day full of contradictions. I taught an OLLI class (“life-long learning”) on Wisdom and was treated like a treasure by appreciative students. Later I went to a meeting in which I was treated like crap by a colleague. And I had a phone conversation with someone important about a really big—like amazingly big—future project that may happen, and I really hope it does.

This day has led me to reflect on my conversation with a visiting speaker who came to campus last year, a senior scholar with an impressive CV who teaches at a small college. I asked him what it was like spending his whole career at one school, and whether he ever thought about moving (he could have at any point, I imagine). He said that he had family reasons for staying in the area, and that he had maintained his mental health by refusing to let his identity become tied to the micro-politics and limited perspective of the school itself.

What I took from our conversation was a reminder to maintain a broad horizon. This horizon will take the form of strong collegial relationships outside the confines of a particular department or school. It will mean having a healthy and balanced home life so that one is always something more than just an Associate Professor or a Committee Chair—a parent, a friend, a volunteer. This broader perspective will also contribute to a more effective career within that specific location.

And all of this requires sustained reflection about one’s vocation. Who are you called to be? As a professor, my calling is primarily to be a teacher and, springing from that, to be a writer. I have many weaknesses as a teacher and I don’t write nearly as much or as well as I would like. My success in these callings, however, does not depend on institutional support or external validation, but on the human relationships that I build in the process.

I am entering the middle part of my career, having taught 14 years already. I have paid close attention to senior colleague nearing retirement: some are happy and content, and look back on their Furman years with fondness; and some seem totally burned out, just done. What’s the difference, I wonder? Everyone’s situation is different, but I suspect that a major factor is whether their identity has become too closely tied to their job rather than their vocation.

I offer now two great unspoken truths that middle-career Associate Professors like me need to remember: 1) institutions change inexorably over time, and eventually they will change in ways that you do not like; 2) when you are gone, it’s amazing how gone you are. Every now and then we get an email telling us that a retired professor has passed away, and I wonder, who was that person? Does anyone here remember what they did? How they poured themselves into that report or committee assignment? How many 8 o’clock sections they taught? As Qohelet reminds us, “The people of long ago are not remembered, nor will there be any remembrance of people yet to come by those who come after them.”

So what’s the point? To borrow again from the Teacher, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do with your might.” Identify those things that matter most in life, that most closely embody your vocation, and do them. Don’t let the business of everyday struggle cloud your horizon or claim your identity.

[Image via http://tysonadams.com/2012/08/30/the-answer/]

Nida Symposium With Robert Alter and David Damrosch

While I’m at it, please take note of this amazing one-day symposium in New York on September 19th. It’s free for grad students, with lunch included. If you’re in striking distance of NYC, it would be silly not to attend this.

  • “Translating Biblical Poetry: Ancient Hebrew Verse and the Constraints of English,” presented by Robert Alter, with a response by Adriane Leveen
  • “World Literature, National Markets,” presented by David Damrosch, with a response by Lydia Liu

Date and Time: Friday, September 19, 2014 (10:00am – 3:00pm, lunch included)

Venue: ABS Board/Community Room (1865 Broadway at 61st Street, New York, NY)

Registration Fee: $25.00 USD (Registration is free for graduate students.)

David Fink on Luther’s Interpretation of Galatians

I am very happy that my colleague and friend, David Fink, has begun posting materials to academia.edu. I wanted to call your attention to this essay that he recently uploaded, titled simply “Luther on Galatians,” from the book Reformation Readings of Paul.

It’s excellent, and well worth your time. Read it at Academia.edu.

The Septuagint as Translation: TM Law’s Septuagint Sessions With Ben Wright

Timothy Michael Law’s episode of Septuagint Sessions with Benjamin Wright is a gem. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in the Bible or Translation, not only Septuagint scholars.

Wright is an editor of the New English Translation of the Septuagint. You can read about the project, including its clear and helpful preface “To the Reader of NETS” here. He says in the video that they began with the question, “How do you translate a translation?” This led them to Descriptive Translation Studies a la Gideon Toury, which emphasizes the contextual purpose of every act of translation.

Wright and his colleagues have attempted to discern how the Septuagint in its original production was intended to meet a need in its target culture. Certainly the LXX later began to serve as Scripture for the community of Greek-speaking Christians. Wright, however, argues that the translators adopted an “interlinear paradigm,” rendering Hebrew idioms and syntax woodenly in Greek, which shows that the LXX was subservient to the Hebrew original. It provided access to the scripture for a Greek-speaking target culture; it was not itself intended to be scripture. Wright argues that the Greek LXX is a) “not a composition,” and was b) “not intended in its earliest form to be an independent replacement for that Hebrew text.”

The NETS project decided to “give a sense of the Septuagint” by preserving the unusual features of the Greek that result from its close adherence to the underlying Hebrew. “Stilted” Greek became stilted but not ungrammatical English, while the idiomatic parts of the Greek became idiomatic English.

A good example is the use of “man man” in Leviticus. Notice how “‘ish ‘ish,” which is an ordinary construction that means “any man” in the Hebrew, became the odd phrase “andri andri” in the Greek. The NETS translators have rendered this “man by man,” which preserves the stilted Greek construction.

In the conversation, Wright makes two distinctions that I consider to be important and insightful, but that raise further questions. First, he argues that our descriptive analysis of a text should distinguish between production and reception. Often, analysis of biblical translations have erased the distinction between the work of the translator and the translation’s effect or role in the target culture. A good example of this is the recent attention to the KJV in its 400th anniversary. The KJV translators are considered literary geniuses because their translation came to exert a tremendous literary influence on society. It is more difficult to establish, however, what the translators themselves hoped to accomplish. Some have argued that Tyndale and his followers attempted to create an everyday/common style, and others have argued that the original goal was to achieve literary beauty.

We may disagree about what effect the translators hoped to achieve, and we may disagree about the influence that a translation comes to have on a culture. It is important to remember that these are separate debates. One could argue, though, that the “translator’s intent” is as elusive (and irrelevant?) as the “author’s intent.”

The second distinction that Wright makes is between interpretation and exegesis within a translation. He concedes that all translation is “interpretation,” but suggests that some translations go beyond interpretation to “exegesis.” Wright distinguishes between the translator’s “normal mode of operation” and “theologically-driven decisions in a particular text.” If the translators always do a certain thing, you cannot say that they have done that thing intentionally in a particular text for theological reasons.

Wright asks, “how do we deal with exegesis; how do we identify purposeful, theologically-driven translation from the normal habits of the translator, which could be interpretive of course but not necessarily exegetical?”

This is an excellent question, and a major challenge to the work I have been doing in theological constraints on translation. It seems to me that the more obvious exegetical decisions help us perceive the underlying assumptions and goals that have influenced the translation on a systemic level. I would argue that the distinction between interpretation and exegesis is not one of kind, but one of degree—or perhaps of relative subtlety.

Translation Studies for Biblical Scholars

As I discussed in my last two posts, we need more critical hermeneutical reflection on the nature of biblical translation both in the church and in the academy. I thought I would post a few summer reading recommendations.

Background

I became interested in the field of “Translation Studies” because of my teaching of undergraduates who have no knowledge of biblical languages. In order to help students glimpse the complexity of the biblical text, I often display multiple translations of the same text for comparison/contrast. To put these versions into context, I began to incorporate readings about the history and nature of biblical translations.

When I started reading in this area, I was mostly aware of the difference between formal equivalence” (or “literal”) versions and “dynamic equivalence” versions. I assigned Gordon Fee and Mark Strauss’s How to Choose a Translation for All It’s Worth: A Guide to Understanding and Using Bible Versions, which introduces Eugene Nida and the formal/dynamic equivalence debate. To represent the dynamic side, I assigned Joel Hoffman’s And God Said: How Translations Conceal the Bible’s Original Meaning.

Seeking balance, I also assigned Leland Ryken’s Understanding English Bible Translation: The Case for an Essentially Literal Approach. As I read that book closely for class, I realized how flawed the “literal” or “word-for-word” approach to translation is. Not “flawed,” I suppose, as much as impossible. Why, then would scholars make such a claim, and why would people be persuaded by them? So, I started reading about the theoretical underpinnings of “equivalence” theory, and seeing where the debate about translation outside biblical studies is headed.

I am still working my way through standard works in the field, and discerning the complex relationships among Translation Theory, “professional” biblical translation, and biblical scholarship. That said, here are a few things that I have found helpful. I would welcome suggestions from readers and colleagues, which I will add to this list.

Translation Theory

  • The first thing I would read is Susan Bassnett’s recent survey, Translation in the New Critical Idiom series from Routledge. This is a quick read, only 200 pages or so, and birds-eye view of the discipline. The chapters on “Translating Across Time,” “The Visibility of the Translator,” and “Boundaries of Translation” would be very helpful for biblical scholars looking for some orientation to how Translation Studies scholars think about historical difference, “foreignizing,” and the role of creativity and art in the translation process. Bassnett is also the author of Translation Studies, which is newly in its 4th edition.

  • For getting a sense of the larger discipline, I also recommend Jeremy Munday’s Introducing Translation Studies: Theories and Applications; and Anthony Pyms’ Exploring Translation Theories.

  • Next, I would look through Lawrence Venuti’s revised Translation Studies Reader, and pay particular attention to the selections from Jerome, Schleiermacher, Walter Benjamin, Roman Jakobson, Eugene Nida, Gideon Toury, Antoine Berman, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, and Venuti himself.

  • In my view, the most important issue that biblical translators must address is that of ideology and power. By paying more attention to this aspect of translation, we can move past tired arguments about “equivalence” of various types. One excellent resource is Semeia Studies 69, Ideology, Culture, and Translation, edited by Scott Elliott and Roland Boer. I would also recommend The Social Sciences and Biblical Translation, edited by Dietmar Neufeld.

  • In Translation Studies, three books that I would recommend on the relationships among culture, power, and translation are Andre Lefevere and Susan Bassnett’s edited collection Translation, History, & Culture, Mona Baker’s Translation and Conflict: A Narrative Account, and Sherry Simon’s Gender in Translation: Cultural Identity and the Politics of Transmission.

These are starting-points of conversation among several disiplines, including Translation Studies, Cultural Studies, Biblical Languages, Linguistics, Theology, Church History, Poetic and Narrative Criticism, etc. The range of issues and problems shows how difficult—and interesting—this conversation will be. Most of all, it is potentially transformative for how we think about the Bible as experienced by real people in history and culture.

NIV 2: What Is Bad Theology?

In my last post, “NIV: Mistranslation, Deception, or Bad Theology?”“ I argued that we should consider translation differences to be interpretive difference rather than error or intentional “mistranslation.”

A few readers noted that I never really addressed why the NIV would be “bad theology”, or what I mean by that term. This is true, as the point of the post was simply to point out that when we argue about translation disagreements, we are mostly arguing about theology (or politics), rather than possible “errors” or “deception.”

Describing the NIV as “bad theology” is, I admit, intentionally provocative. I happen to consider the NIV’s view of scripture to be an inadequate account of biblical inspiration, authority, and significance. Also I happen to have disagreements with the NIV translators on theo-political issues such as creationism, the authorship of the Torah and prophets, historical “inerrancy,” prophecy/fulfillment, atonement theology, apocalypticism and the end-times.

You may agree with the NIV and evangelicals on all of these issues. Many people do! The point is that defending the NIV takes place on the same rhetorical level as critiquing it: on the level of theological argument. And that is an argument that we know how to have. Translation is not something unique that operates under different rules than any other kind of interpretation.

So, in my view there are three common moves within translation debates that are problematic. First, we should not critique the NIV for making translation errors; rather they make interpretive errors that become evident in their translation. (It seems to me that this is basically the point of Paul’s original list of “intentional mistranslations.” My point is only about the terminology and framework of the debate.)

Second, translators cannot simply declare their theological perspective and thereby protect their translations from criticism as interpretations. I’m no relativist, but all of this meaning-making takes place within communities and is subject to the contingencies of language.

For example, these two points mean that someone can’t translate Isaiah 7:14 with “virgin” because 1) it is “correct” or 2) it is a “Christian” text. Also, one cannot translate Isaiah 7:14 with “young woman” because 1) it is “correct” or 2) it is a “historical” text. I believe that “young woman” is lexically and historically preferable, but I have to make that case as an interpretive decision, not as a “translation” decision.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, we should be suspicious of biblical translations that tout their unparalleled “fidelity” or “accuracy,” or that describe the translation process as a “literal” rendering of words and phrases without interpretive interference of the translator. The NIV and its translators are actually much more careful in this regard (it appears to me) than the ESV publishers and defenders, who promote a very problematic “essentially literal” approach.

On the other side, however, mainline translations such as the NRSV and CEB participate in the exact same process of interpretation and shaping in their translations. The “dynamic equivalence” approach doesn’t produce anything more objectively “correct” than “formal equivalence” does. The main problem is not with conservative translations; it is with the uncritical way that Christians think and write about translation itself.

NIV: Mistranslation, Deception, or Bad Theology?

(Image from “Farewell, NIV”)

A recent post by Paul Komorebi has been making the rounds, titled “Deliberate Mistranslations in the New International Version (NIV)”. It contains a thorough list of passages in which the evangelical perspective of the NIV project has affected its translation, a subject that I have written about recently in “Translation, Rhetoric, and the ‘Literal’ Word of God”. Lists such as Paul’s are a great way to spark conversation. People need to know more about how and why translations differ, and why those differences matter. The situation, however, is more complicated than it appears.

Think for a moment about why two translations might be incompatibly—as opposed to merely stylistically—different. The first possibility is that one of them has committed an error, a mistranslation. The domain of “error” in translation is more narrow than you might suppose, however. I reserve this term for technical grammatical misreadings and lexical confusion. There are some of these in every Bible, I suppose, but they are rare.

The second possibility is the specter that Paul has raised: one of them has deliberately mistranslated by choosing words that they know are not supported by the text. Rather than error, we might call this “bias” at best, or even worse, “deception.” Paul says that the NIV translators “change the Bible itself — altering the offending words and phrases to say what they think it ought to have said.”

The claim that the NIV translators have deliberately changed the Bible is the exact charge that Leland Ryken brings against all “dynamic” versions (including the NIV and the NRSV) versus the ESV’s “literal” approach. For more on this, see my recent paper linked above, and Dave Brunn’s One Bible Many Versions: Are All Translations Created Equal, which challenges the idea that any translation can be “literal” in this way.

I do not believe that deception is the best category for discussing the differences between the NIV and NRSV, or any other translations. When scholars respond to the NIV’s problems by saying that it has “mistranslated” the Bible, they imply that there is a self-evidently correct translation, a “literal” truth that has been deliberately obscured. And implicit in this is the claim that our own translations are free from such error. Certainly, our translations would never deceive anyone.

Rather, we need to think more critically about translation ethics within the complex layering of personal, communal, and institutional norms and goals. What are the ethical norms and responsibilities of the translator, and to whom do they owe their allegiance?

Thus, the third possibility when translations differ is that each is influenced by its own “theo-politics,” the web of commitments and expectations that govern its production and dissemination. There are different ways of getting at this in Translation Studies, but one that I like is the Andre Lefevere’s emphasis on ideology and “rewriting.” [PDF article link]

This does not imply an easy relativism. Evangelicals have (ironically?) embraced postmodern perspectivalism as a way to carve out their own special-pleading. They think they if they include some language about inerrancy, inspiration, and OT Christology in the preface, that they can do whatever they want to Genesis and Isaiah. Well, they can, technically speaking, but claiming one’s theological starting-point is not a rhetorical free pass.

Rather, instead of clinging to an essentialist view of language and critiquing the NIV for its “mistranslation,” we need to recognize the role of theo-politics in all translation, and critique the NIV for its bad theology. “Deliberate mistranslation” is rhetorically powerful language, but it does not help us speak and reason clearly about translational difference.

Writing vs. Working

I’m on vacation this week with my extended family, and having a great time playing in the surf with the boys and hanging out with in-laws of every type. I also have a couple of writing projects that are—ahem—overdue by a little bit—and so I feel like I should be working while I’m here.

Well, I’m not working. However, I am writing. Let me explain.

In the last few weeks, I read a handful of books about writing as a practice and a discipline, hoping to translate new ideas for projects into a plan and a schedule. One book that was really helpful is by Pat Thomson and Barbara Kamler, Writing for Peer Reviewed Journals: Strategies for Getting Published. They have many great ideas, but I was particularly interested in their advice about writing structured abstracts as a way to formulate a paper from the start.

Another book that was helpful is Rowena Murray’s Writing for Academic Journals, which emphasizes the importance of outlining and “free-writing” exercises to break through inertia and find one’s way through a paper. Between these two, I have a better grasp on the process of creating something good through cumulative effort and iteration.

Finally, I read Paul Silva’s How to Write a Lot: A Practical Guide to Productive Academic Writing. Silva’s emphasis is on writing regularly, every day, as a practice. He suggests that if you break your writing down into smaller tasks (cf. Murray), and set realistic and regular goals for completing those tasks, you can write much more productively than a “binge” writer.

Many academics tend toward the “binge writing” end of the spectrum, with me the worst of them all. These books have helped me clarify what it is that I’m doing when I sit down at the keyboard. Rather than completing a task of drudgery, I am thinking in written form. Rather than saying “I’m going to write an article by working all damn day,” I say, “I am going to spend 20 minutes before breakfast outlining this next part” or “I am going to take an hour in the evening to write these 500 words.” This may not seem like much of a shift, but it is.

I am actually enjoying my writing these days. I’m not working, I’m just doing what I do. I am learning new things and seeing progress. And so I do not mind spending a few vacation hours in Scrivener. Don’t mind me; I’m just writing.