I speak and understand and read four languages including my own [...] I suppose that's why I have a tendency (as does Luisa, who is also an interpreter) [...] to want to understand everything that people say and everything I hear, both at work and outside, even at a distance, even if it's one of the innumerable languages I don't know, even if it's in an indistinguishable murmur or an imperceptive whisper, even if it would be better that I didn't understand and what's said is not intended for my ears, or is said precisely so that I won't catch it.
- From A Heart So White by Javier Marías
Recently, I watched a film short about two interpreters and have been thinking about it. The two main characters are simultaneous interpreters, the kind in which people who need the spoken language access (in this case, Hungarian) are given earphones in which to hear the interpretation while a speaker is presenting.
I've been around this type of interpreting and these types of earpieces a number of times. I've sat next to people using them. I've been one of the people using them. The flimsy and ill-fitting plastic-and-sometimes-foam meant to offer access to information for the price of discomfort for a few hours. The most memorable time being around these earpieces was, long ago, being in a room with Baltasar Garzón lecturing in his tailored suit and slicked back silver and dark gray hair. I recall how he gripped the emblemed, fake-wood podium at times. I remember this movement accentuating his sophisticated, almost teasing tie wear as he spoke.
More specifically this film short taught me the term chuchotage, which I have also been in a room with and been teased by. Chuchotage is another type of simultaneous interpretation, one in which the interpreter stands (or sits) close to a person and whispers the translation in real time. There is a connection to the French verb chuchoter in its origins which means "to whisper". It tends to only be functional when there are one to maybe four people needing access to a particular language. I've been in a lot of meetings where chuchotage is going on in the back or side of the room and, before realizing that's what was happening, I thought people were just whispering during a presentation, which peaked my interest.
I wonder, from a spoken language interpreter's perspective on simultaneous interpretation, if most prefer being the disembodied voice in the ears of a percentage of the crowd, or if most prefer to sit close and whisper.
From a physical and interpreting standpoint, I have thoughts. There are pros and cons to them both that I can see. From my own experience interpreting, I can say that sometimes chuchotage makes my own interpreting more challenging in that it becomes harder to hear what is being said by the speaker. But I don't fault anyone for that: Access is access and it's all equally vital.
Putting all profession aside: I will forever be prone to romanticize any type of whispered access that is murmuring in the back of the room and tempting me for my attention.
Be well; be loved,
k.
Note: The aforementioned film short is by Barnabás Toth and is entitled Chuchotage (2018).
[photo credit: Kristina Flour]
