4.4. Ambiguity

As puns rely on internal relationships within a language such as homonymy, homophony and homography, they can be seen as the ultimately untranslatable elements of a text. The concept of untranslatability pops up over and over again in relation to puns, and Delabastita (1997) has a neat new interpretation of the word as a challenge, an ‘explicandum rather than explicans, as a metaphorical index of issues that are awaiting further and more explicit scrutiny’ (13). Wordplay has been described as the ‘signature of language’ (Davis 1997), something that only belongs to the domain of the language where it occurs. Echoing Derrida Davis argues, however, that wordplay ‘is iterable, and therefore accessible to recognition and citation by another language’(25) and that even wordplay cannot completely close a language system and can thus be translated (40). Gottlieb (1997), who writes about subtitles which, in fact, is a more demanding context than a novel because of the presence of the original, also claims that in practice ‘nearly all items of wordplay are translatable’ and goes on to explain how: they can be ‘rendered verbatim, with or without humorous effect, adapted to the local setting, to maintain humorous effect, replaced by non-wordplay, not rendered, or inserted in different textual positions’ (210). When I encountered a pun my main strategy was to create some phrase in Finnish which would fit the context and be as funny as possible, and my solutions tended to fall into Gottlieb’s second category. As Finnish, unlike English, is spelled more or less phonetically, and the vocabulary includes fewer monosyllables, Finnish puns will often have to rely on a near-match rather than total homophony.

Names as allusive elements were discussed above, names that refer to characters in the book itself will be discussed here, and they turned out to be more problematic than puns. As I mostly followed the established Finnish convention and did not translate names, some connotations did not get carried across the language boundary into TSF/P.

To translate a text with no or very little meaning would be impossible. As I have tried to demonstrate, Tristram Shandy is not such a text: polysemy does not stand for nonsemy. Once the translator has worked out the elements of a pun, where the emphasis is, which are the constraints, it should be possible to come up with something that will fit the bill. Imagination, lateral thinking, experience, and a bit of luck – all these are needed. Personally, I am more satisfied with some solutions than others. There always seems to be space for improvement. As the jokes which involve wordplay can be said to be more mine that Sterne’s, it is not for me to judge how funny they are. I would sincerely like to know if people laugh at them the way I have seen English people laugh at the English ones.

As with insertions, I will discuss all instances of ambiguity that I could find in the first volume.

4.4.1. Wordplay

It will happen to different readers at a different point, but inevitably there comes a moment in reading Tristram Shandy when the reader begins to suspect every word and anticipate something bawdy. Tristram explicitly parodies this tendency (which he also shamelessly exploits throughout the book), first in Slawkenbergius’ tale in the beginning of volume four and then in his Fragment upon Whiskers in the beginning of the fifth volume.

The book starts with a rather risqué discussion of Tristram’s conception. For an unsuspecting first time reader of Tristram Shandy Tristram’s mother’s exclamation ‘have you not forgot to wind up the clock?’ (TSE 6) probably does not contain a pun, and it is only after having realised that Tristram uses every opportunity he can to draw the reader’s attention to genitals that he/she begins to suspect that the word cock might be echoed here. The first quote in OED for cock as 'penis' dates back to 1618, so it can safely be assumed that it was understood in Sterne's time. As the TSF/P version stands, the joke concentrates on Tristram’s mother’s associations only. TSF/R has a more suggestive wording: ‘eihän meillä vain kello seiso? (3)’ ‘surely our clock is not standing/stopped’?’ containing the verb seisoa ‘to stand’ which can refer to both a stopped clock and an erect penis. For TSF/R I also changed the following sentence which in English runs: Good G ----- cried my father, making an exclamation’, (TSE 6) into ‘Hyvä J----- isältani pääsi,’ (TSF/R 4) where the verb can be interpreted as ‘ejaculated’ in all senses of the word. If I have added wordplay where Sterne has none (I am not sure), let us say it compensates for instances to which I have failed to react.

The next example of suggestive words occurs in chapter seven and relates to the midwife’s license which includes ‘all its rights, members, and appurtenances whatsoever’ (TSE 12). This formula is invented by Didius, who is not content by having it in this particular license ‘but coaxed many of the old licensed matrons in the neighbourhood, to open their faculties afresh, in order to have this wham-wham of his inserted’ (TSE 13). Didius’s formula might have some rude connotations, and so, I hope, does my ‘sen mukanaan tuomiin kaikkiin mahdollisiin oikeuksiin, osiin ja lisiin’ (TSF/R 25). Inserting the ‘whim-wham’ is a clearer case, as according to New (1997: 548) some footnote to Rabelais explains the word as ‘men’s pissing tools’, although it is possible that this reading was not widely known, certainly OED does not list it. My translation does not contain any words with a double meaning, but the verb työntää ‘push’ or ‘thrust’ is not idiomatic in this context and the midwives as well as the documents can be seen as the grammatical object of the verb: ‘suostutteli monet seutukunnan lisenssillä varustetut matamit tulemaan hänen luokseen työntääkseen niihin oikkunsa.’ (TSF/R 24-5)

When Tristram discusses lords mounted on their hobby-horses he says it doesn’t matter much if they fall ‘for were their lordships unhorsed this very night  'tis ten to one but that many of them would be worse mounted by one half before tomorrow morning’ (8). Not before I came across an article written by the Japanese translator of Tristram Shandy (Shumuta 1971: 193) did I realise that I had failed to notice the obvious pun. TSF/P’s ‘kymmenen yhtä vastaan, moni heistä istuu kurjemman konin selässä’ is corrected to ‘kymmenen yhtä vastaan, monella on huonompi luuska allaan ennen huomisaamua’ in (TSF/R 30) where luuska can refer to a horse or an unattractive woman. There is another suggestive wording which slipped my net the first time round: when Yorick laments that he has ‘nothing for the impotent, nothing for the aged’ (TSE 19). The Finnish for ‘impotent’ in all its meanings (the first quote for ‘wholly lacking in sexual power’ in OED dates back to 1615) should be used: kyvyttömille, instead of avuttomille ‘for the helpless’ (TSF/R 49).

The last wordplay in volume one occurs in the discussion how to draw a man’s character. If a drawing of a man is made ‘in the Camera’(TSE 61) – which obviously means camera obscura – Tristram declares that ‘that is most unfair of all, because, there you are sure to be represented in some of your most ridiculous attitudes’ – so that by the end of the sentence the word ‘(bed)chamber’ seems to be referred to. The echoes created by the word Camera are represented with the slightly archaic Finnish word kammari, ‘chamber’ (TSF/R 188).

Some more complicated examples from later volumes shall illustrate the strategies I used. In the fifth volume Tristram promises to stop his bad habits and stick to decent subjects, such as:

chamber-maids, green-gowns, and old hats. (TSE 300)

None of these are very decent as all these words have sexual connotations, but unfortunately Tristram has just been talking literally about chamber-maids, green gowns, and hats, so they cannot be replaced with words that are far from these in meaning. With a little help from my editor Alice Martin I translated the pun like this:

sisäpiikoja, pukupuoliasioita ja vinhoja hattuja. (TSF/P 320)

The word pukupuoliasioista is an invention and could mean matters of dress, but if you change the first letter you get sukupuoliasioita which is a everyday Finnish expression for matters sexual. Vinha hattu (striking hat) is a totally incomprehensible expression as such but the sheer nonsense should help the reader notice the vulgar spoonerism. To legitimise this strange combination of words I had to plant the striking hats into the text. So a couple of pages earlier when Trim drops his hat

and are we not ¾ (dropping his hat upon the ground) gone! in a moment! ¾ 'Twas infinitely striking! Susannah burst into a flood of tears. (TSE 298)

I translated

ja nyt ¾  (hän pudotti hattunsa maahan) poissa! Noin vain! ¾ Vaikutus oli vinha! Susannah puhkesi kyyneltulvaan. (TSF/P 318-9)

The conclusion of Tristram Shandy troubled me endlessly. Sterne ends with a flourish, and describes his life's work. These are the last words of Tristram Shandy:

L ¾ d! said my mother, what is all this story about?––

A COCK and a BULL, said Yorick –– And one of the best of its kind, I ever heard. (TSE 543)

Unfortunately a real life bull has just been discussed in the text and must therefore be mentioned. The night before submitting my manuscript to the publishers I woke up with an idea. The Finnish for bull is sonni. There is a word in Finnish jonninjoutava which means trifling, idle. To also incorporate cock I had to be more ‘creative’ than I would normally allow myself. So, in Finnish, Yorick calls the story idle and rather like scrambled eggs for one – the Finnish for egg can refer to the male organ. Stretching the pun a little I translated:

>Hyvä J–-a! sanoi äitini, mikä juttu tämä on? –-

Sonninjoutava juttu, sanoi Yorick –- ja varsinainen munakokkeli tarinaksi. (TSF/P 562)

Most instances of wordplay have genital connotations, but sometimes Tristram plays with the taboo related to buttocks. In chapter ten Tristram says that Yorick could, when riding his horse in a leisurely manner, ‘draw up an argument in his sermon, ¾ or a hole in his breeches’ (TSE 18). All the translator needs to do is to find a verb that could be similarly used in both contexts. The verb hioa could be translated into English in this context as ‘polish’ and suited perfectly. In the beginning of the ninth volume Tristram uses the words a priori and a posteriori in their accepted sense and then adds that ‘a posteriori, in Court-latin, signifies the kissing hands for preferment ¾ or any thing else ¾ in order to get it.’(TSE 499). I handled the first instance of the words a posteriori by adding a translation using the word the word perä which can also mean ‘bottom’ but I am not satisfied with the TSF/P translation for the second occurrence: ‘merkitseehän a posteriori hovilatinassa sitä, että ylennyksen toivossa suudellaan käsiä ¾ tai mitä nyt suudellaankaan’ (TSF/P 519), because it is too explicit: it gives the reader no chance to read preferment as the word that ‘anything else’ refers to. I now suggest: ‘merkitseehän a posteriori hovilatinassa käsien suutelemista ylennyksen toivossa -¾ tai minkä lie’ which would retain that possibility.

4.4.2. Innuendo

Sometimes Tristram does not give us specific words onto which we could latch our suspicions, but there is a vague atmosphere of something more than is actually said. In the fifth chapter Tristram says that the date of his birth was ‘as near nine kalendar months as any husband could in reason have expected’ (TSE 10), but if we calculate from the date of his conception, the period is closer to eight months. In chapter ten it is hinted that parson Yorick’s horse was a gelding in a way which carries indelicate connotations. In chapter eighteen there is a conversation between Tristram and his reader ‘Madam’ in which the reader is fooled into substituting a word into a blank marked by a dash:

Surely, Madam, a friendship between the two sexes may subsist, and be supported without ¾ Fy! Mr Shandy: ¾ Without any thing, Madam, but that tender and delicious sentiment which ever mixes in friendship, where there is a difference of sex. (TSE 42)

In chapter twenty one we learn that Uncle Toby is a modest man and that he has acquired this ‘inward cleanliness of mind and fancy’ by a ‘blow from a stone, broke off by a ball from the parapet of a horn-work at the siege of Namur, which struck full upon my uncle Toby's groin’. The reader’s imagination will inevitably be drawn to the genital area, and the effect is amplified by the word ‘horn-works’. The name Namur could also possibly be read as ‘ne amour’ or ‘no more’ (de Voogd 1988: 388).

Chapter twenty contains the discussion of the doctors of Sorbonne from which it follows that if baptism can be administered to an unborn baby ‘by injection, ¾  par le moyen d'une petite Canulle. ¾ Anglice a squirt’ (TSE 49n) – it should also be possible to baptize all homunculi ‘par le moyen d'une petite canulle, and sans faire aucune tort a le pere (TSE 51) [1] . Again, the imagination is drawn to genitalia.

As innuendo does not rely on specific words with double meanings, it does not present such a challenge to a translator as puns do. Most of the examples can be rendered into Finnish like normal narrative. It is, however, important to keep the innuendo in mind so that it is not lost. The blank represented by a dash must be positioned in such a way that the reader can insert whatever his/her imagination suggests:

onhan toki ystävyys sukupuolten välillä mahdollinen, ja mahdollista ylläpitää ilman –– Hyi! herra Shandy –– ilman yhtään mitään, hyvä rouva (TSF/R 120)

The first time the famous blow that Uncle Toby received in Namur is mentioned deserves careful attention.

Niin, hyvä rouva, syynä oli tärsky, jonka aiheutti ammuksen Namurin piirityksessä vallinsarven rintavarustuksesta irrottama kivenkappale, joka osui Toby-setääni nivusiin (TSF/R 166)

The Finnish reader will probably be able to glean less from the Finnish than is present in the English. The word sarvi ‘horn’ does not have quite the same connotations in Finnish and the likelihood that the Finnish reader would read ‘amours’ into Namur is quite remote.

4.4.3. Names and terminology

Often proper names and terms are the least ambiguous elements in a text, signifying as they do something clearly definable, but not so in Tristram Shandy. Not only can names allude (as discussed above), they can be charged with meaning, and terms can carry various connotations. Conventionally names are retained as such in novels translated into Finnish from languages which use the same alphabet, and the readers’ expectations follow this convention. A Finnish reader would find translated names strange in a book for grown-ups. On the other hand, Tristram Shandy is a strange book.

To start with, the name Tristram on the title page means ‘the sad one’ and is given to our hero against his father’s specific wishes: he should have been called Trismesgistus (‘thrice greatest’, Ross 1983: 545). OED defines the adjective shandy as ‘wild, boisterous; visionary, empty-headed, half-crazy’. The Finnish reader gets an added explanation of the name Tristram, ’meaning sad’: ‘joka merkitsee surullista’ (TSF/R 134) but he name Shandy does not get a similar explanation, however, neither has the meaning such prominence. Eugenius comes from Greek and means ‘well-born, noble’ (Ross 1983: 543), Kunastrokius from the Latin cunnus, ‘the female genital’ (Anderson 1979: 8). The parson has the same name as the jester in Hamlet. It can be argued that such names could have been translated, and I particularly I regret not rendering Kysarcius (TSE 158), with its transparent connotations, into Pusperseus.

In Walter Shandy’s treatise of Christian names (TSE 43-47) we are to understand why nobody can call his son Nyky, Nick, Simkin, Numps and Nincompoop. Ross (1983: 545) suggests that Nyky and Nick echo ‘Nick the Devil’, Simkin ‘simpleton’, and that Nichodemus in the Bible is a coward as he came to meet Jesus at night. OED defines Nump(s) as ‘a silly or stupid person’ and Nincompoop as ‘a fool, blockhead, simpleton, ninny’. This is a particularly complicated case as these words appear as potential names, but the connotations they carry are given great emphasis. All the names mentioned above have strong translating potential, however, following my rules for historical or literary names I rendered the two biblical names in TSF/P into their Finnish form (which I would not have done had they been names of characters in the book): Juudas, Nikodeemus; but of the others I decided to translate only Nincompoop as Pölhö-Eemeli, as I felt the context absolutely demanded it. In TSF/R more of these names have been translated, Nyky as Erkki and Nick as Erik which are names that can be used for the Devil in Finnish, and Numps and Simkin as Uuno and Tauno, names which are synonymous to ‘idiot’ in modern Finnish. It is rather bold to introduce Finnish names into an English context, but hopefully the reader will overlook this incongruity in favour of the joke.

Finally, there is one name in the first volume which is a personification of a virtue: Humility (TSE 17). These kinds of names were common in earlier allegorical literature but had fallen out of fashion by the eighteenth century. I translated it simply into Nöyryys. Walter Shandy, of course, would argue that most Christian names belong to this group, but this opinion is not shared with the rest of the world.

Terms presented a certain amount of difficulty as it was necessary to establish Sterne’s intention in each case. Some religious terms must have been everyday words for the vicar of Sutton and Stillington, whereas certain Catholic concepts are used contemptuously. It seems that terms of medieval physiology and rhetoric categories are presented in a humorous light, as were examples of scholastic learning, and legal and medical terms tend to sound rather ridiculous in Sterne’s ear, too, especially when they are obscure and presented in abundance. The same can be said of fortification terminology, which also includes some opportunities for punning, such as horn-works and curtins.

In the opening chapter of Tristram Shandy the reader encounters some fairly common words which are used as specific terms (OED explanations of this particular sense in brackets): humour (In ancient and medieval physiology, one of the four chief fluids of the body), genius (of persons: characteristic disposition; inclination; bent, turn or temper of mind.), disposition (the situation of a planet in a horoscope), temperature (the combination of 'humours' in the body). There are also other arcane terms, such as homunculus and animal spirits.

I decided to explain the medieval physiology in modern words and introduce only one term, humour, which recurs later in the book. Thus

the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind;(and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost[…]. (TSE 5)

became

sen ruumiin onnistunut muotoutuminen elementtien oikeissa suhteissa ja kenties jopa koko sen luonne ja mielen laatu; –- ynnä, sikäli mikäli he tiesivät, sen huoneenkin menestys, määräytyä niiden ruumiinnesteiden eli humorien ja suhteiden nojalla jotka tuolloin olivat vallitsevina [...]. (TSF/R 3)

The Latin word homunculus was kept, and animal spirits were translated as elonhenget, ‘spirits of life’.

There is a list of Latin rhetoric categories in chapter twenty one (TSE 57): Argumentum ad Verecundiam, ex Absurdo, ex Fortiori and Argumentum Fistulatorium, Argumentum Baculinum, Argumentum ad Crumenam, Argumentum Tripodium, Argumentum ad Rem (TSE 57). The first three of these are traditional, the rest are Sterne’s own coinages. Fistulatorum refers to a pipe, crumenam to a purse, tripodium to the third leg and rem to ‘the thing’ (Penguin notes:560). These were given straightforward Finnish explanations: ‘Argumentum ad Verecundiam, ex Absurdo, ex Fortiori, eli vaatimattomuuteen vetoavasta, mielettömyyteen tai ylivoimaan nojaavasta’, ‘Argumentum Fistulatorium, pilliargumentti’, ‘Argumentum Baculinum ja Argumentum ad Crumenam, jotka perustuvat kepin ja kukkaron mahtiin’, ‘Argumentum Tripodium, kolmannen jalan argumentti’, Argumentum ad Rem, asiallisen asian argumentti (TSF/P 71-2). New (1997: 560) suggests that the last one has sexual connotations, but unfortunately the TSF/P translation opens no such possibilities. Hopefully ‘sitä itseään koskeva argumentti’ in TSF/R is better (176).

There are no good examples of theological and religious terminology in volume one, so I shall illustrate the question by material from later volumes. The problem was that few modern Finnish readers understand the complexities of English eigteenth-century religious life. How to convey the fact that the mere mention of such Catholic terms as transubstantiation or real presence is contemptuous, whereas sacrament day, canonical and salvation were perfectly normal vocabulary for Reverend Sterne? My solution was to translate the mocked words literally and keep them obscure but to explain the every day words: muodonmuutos, reaalinen läsnäolo, and sakramentin sunnuntai, kanonien sallima – the word pelastus is, of course, still understood.

A rather complicated case appears in the second volume:

thou has left thy tire-tête,  thy new-invented forceps thy crotchet, thy squirt, and all thy instruments of salvation and deliverance behind thee. (TSE 89)

 After the list instruments, which starts with the rather impressive French term and ends wit the mundane squirt, these pieces of equipment are referred to in terms which can be read as obstetrical but also as theological – no doubt to mock their owner, the Catholic Dr. Slop. The Finnish word päästö is standard for delivering children but does not normally refer to religious deliverance in Finnish modern. In the Lord's Prayer it does occur in such context: päästä meidät pahasta 'deliver us from evil' . The more standard word vapahdus for deliverance was another choice. The religious association would have been more obvious but the word could not be used for delivering babies. I also quite like the alliteration, which can be used as a device to create the impression of an idiomatic collocation.

sinulta on jäänyt kotiin tire tête eli päänvedin, –- keksimäsi uudet pihdit, –- koukkusi, –- ruiskusi, ja kaikki pelastuksen ja päästön välineet. (TSF/P 105)

By far the most hilarious special vocabulary relates to fortification.. Uncle Toby's exploits in the world of the ’scarp and counterscarp, ¾  the glacis and covered-way, ¾ the half-moon and ravelin’ (TSE 68) is one of the main themes of the book. Again, the main bulk of these terms appear after the first volume. In the early stages of my work I translated the terms transparently so that a reader could more or less follow what was going on, but as my understanding of the purpose of these passages as well as my knowledge of Finnish equivalents grew, the translations became more and more obscure. I ended up with a combination of words of both Finnish and foreign origin, and a few I invented. This solution is more demanding for the Finnish reader but hopefully more rewarding.

4.4.4. Misunderstandings

The characters in Tristram Shandy do not understand each other very well as has been discussed earlier. Unfortunately the first volume, which is the focus of this study, does not contain any conversations between the protagonists of the novel. The only misunderstandings occur between Tristram and the reader as Tristram traps the reader into misinterpreting his intentions, as discussed above.

I give some examples of misunderstandings occurring in the later volumes.

When Uncle Toby has turned the discussion once again to his hobby-horse, Walter Shandy complains, ‘I declare I would not have my head so full of curtins and horn-works’ (TSE 89). Dr. Slop answers ‘laughing most immoderately at his pun’–’I dare say you would not’ (TSE 89-90). Poor Uncle Toby thinks Dr. Slop has made an earnest mistake and explains that

the curtins my brother Shandy mentions here, have nothing to do with beadsteads [...] nor have the horn-works he speaks of, any thing in the world to do with the horn-works of cuckoldom […]. (TSE 90)

 I was delighted to find out that kurtiini has been used for curtin and sarvilinna for hornworks in Finnish. By changing one letter I got kurtiisi (an obscure word for courtship) and managed to create a possible misunderstanding in Finnish which, with a bit of good will from the reader's part, should work.

 kurtiinilla, joihin veljeni Shandy tässä viittaa, ei ole mitään tekemistä kurtiisin kanssa; –- vaikka on mahdollista, että sanat ovat sukua; –- ja sarvet, joista hän puhuu, ovat sarvilinnoja, eivät niitä, jotka kasvavat aisankannattajan otsaan [...]. (TSF/P 106)

In volume three Walter Shandy is woken up by a creaking hinge and asks who it is. Corporal Trim answers that he is just bringing in some mortars. Walter Shandy thinks he means mortars for Dr. Slop to pound drugs in, but Trim explains that they are ‘two mortar-pieces for a siege next summer, which I have been making out of a pair of jack-boots’ (TSE 166). This misunderstanding found a rather far-fetched solution. The Finnish pun is bas ed on the word putki ‘tube’ which can be a part of either a cannon or a test tube. Walter Shandy complains that he doesn’t want Dr. Slop clinking his test tubes in the parlour.

kaksi putkea vain jotka ajattelin tuoda sisään. –- Täällä ei putkia kilistellä, huudahti isäni heti. –- Jos tohtori Slop haluaa sekoittaa troppeja, tehköön sen keittiössä. –- Jos arvon herralle sopii, huudahti Trim, nämä eivät ole lääkeputkia vaan tykinputkia […]. (TSF/P 186)

When Uncle Toby has fallen in love with Mrs. Wadman, he at first attributes his discomfort to a blister he got riding. When his brother, who because of certain obscure reasons to do with Hilarion the Hermit always uses the word Asse (ass) for passion, asks him: ‘how goes it with your Asse?’ poor Uncle Toby thinks of his blister and answers: ‘My A ¾ e [...] is much better’ (TSE 488-9). The closest I could think of was polle, a Finnish word of endearment for a horse which sounds a bit like pylly, ‘bottom’. Walter asks: ‘kuinka pollen laita on?’ and Toby answers: ‘Py ¾  y […] voi paljon paremmin’ (TSF/P 510).

When Widow Wadman asks whereabouts Uncle Toby received the sad blow and glances towards the waistband of uncle Toby's red plush breeches, Uncle Toby can only think of the exact spot in the battlefield and asks Trim to bring out a map (TSE 535-6). With this misunderstanding the translator was in the luck as the question can be misunderstood exactly in the same way.