The
disability fanfic site has uploaded a bunch of stuff, so I've been reading quite a lot, and there are a couple of things that bother me.
Well, okay, a lot of things bothered me, but I do deliberately seek out these fics, so I've mostly learned to go LALALA at the badness, especially the very common badness like magical recoveries or undue sappiness.
But in this rant, I thought I'd limit myself to a couple of annoying trends in stories about deaf people.
First annoying trend: When a character becomes deaf, and either immediately starts learning sign or speaking solely in notes. Verbal speech is for hearing people, you see.
In fact, it is so very much for hearing people, that the hearing people will continue speaking verbally to the deaf character, even if they're very close friends and/or family, and even if they're fluent enough in sign language to understand everything the deaf character is saying. And the deaf character, no matter how recent the disability, will have developed such l33t lip-reading skills as to immediately understand pretty much every spoken word.
This makes no sense whatsoever. What, did the writers watch a situation with a deaf person and an interpreter (say Joey and Kenny in West Wing) and go, ”Well, my deaf character can lip-read/my non-deaf character knows sign, so there's no need for an interpreter”? Thus missing out on the basic fact that while Kenny interprets what Joey is saying, he also interprets what everyone else is saying to Joey?
Yes, I know, this happens all the time in various canons also. I'm giving you a pass if you're writing for one of those canons (but I'm not giving the original writers a pass at all). But not if the character is hearing in canon. Nope. Then you are to remember the basic rule: It's easier for you to understand (esp. newly) deaf people than it is for them to understand you.
Second annoying trend: This is in a way even more annoying, because it comes from people who have at least started thinking about what they're doing. (In at least two cases, the stories were otherwise really good.) It's when the author chirps, ”Did you know that ASL is a language with grammar entirely different from English?” and then proceeds to write the signed dialogue in ASL grammar.
Yes, yes, I did know that. Did you know that the same thing applies to every non-English language on the planet? Yet somehow translators resist the urge to write ”me gustas” as ”me you please” rather than ”I like you.” Because here's the thing: You're not writing in ASL. You're writing in English, effectively translating the dialogue. Hence, if you write in ASL grammar, I'm going to reach the conclusion that you know ASL, yes, but also that you don't know jack shit about translation.
Your main loyalty while translating is to the language you're translating to. Which means using the grammar of that language. (An exception may be if your POV character doesn't understand ASL very well and has to painstakingly translate each word. Or, of course, if the signing character originally uses grammar that's not correct for ASL.) You're not translating the words, you're translating the meaning. This also means changing the punchline of jokes so that they're funny in the new language - again, unless the point is that the joke isn't understood. If the original is poetic, the translation should be poetic. If the original is slangy, or legalese, or a mix of high and low, the translation should follow those styles. This is hard, but you've got an edge: you can just plain start with the English and not worry about how legalese looks in ASL.
If you know a couple of languages, try watching subtitled films to see how it's done. (Or indeed, if one of those languages is ASL, watch professional interpreters.) Or buy books in two different languages. Yes, sometimes the translation is ”off”, but as often as not the mistakes are due to being too literal, rather than not literal enough. For instance, the Friends line, ”My Curious George doll is no longer curious.” This was translated rather literally in Swedish, with ”Nyfikne George” for Curious George. Trouble is, that's not his Swedish name. He's called Nicke Nyfiken - and suddenly the joke makes sense to Swedes. (For those of you saying, ”Well, he shouldn't have had his name changed in the first place” - yes he should. George is a very uncommon name in Swedish, while Nicke is common, and besides, it just plain sounds better. These are all things to take into consideration.) Or the Biblical verse which in one bizarre translation read, ”You shall not take flesh as your arms.” Fun for the linguists, incomprehensible for anyone else. (The meaning is ”You shall not rely on human strength.”)
Yes, I know, I know. All this makes it so much harder for you to show off how good you are at ASL. But think of it from the bright side: You won't look like a twit.