Thousands
of examined and unexamined patent applications, utility
models and granted patents are translated every year from
Japanese to English in United States, Japan, Great Britain
and other countries. The quality of these translations
is sometime excellent, and sometime not very good. It
is not difficult to find samples of bad translations from
Japanese. For example, the Japan Patent Office provides
English summaries of all published unexamined (Kokai)
patent applications in English (see my collection of links
to various vital services provided by JPO at: http://www.ptranslation.com/find-japanese-patents.htm). These summaries are very useful as they provide important information
to people in foreign countries who do not read Japanese.
However, although most of the time, these English summaries
are more or less understandable, they are clearly written
by native Japanese speakers who are probably specialists
in their technical fields, but definitely not professional
translators into English, as their fluency in English
leaves much to be desired. In fact, the English of these
translations is often quite hilarious. In contrast, English
summaries of patents that were originally written for
instance in German or French, available for instance from
the World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO) at
http://www.wipo.int/ipdl/en/ or from the European Patent Office at
http://ep.espacenet.com/.../home.hts are almost always written in clear and grammatically correct English,
including the proper technical terms. Clearly, these summaries
were written by professional technical translators whose
native language was probably English, or whose fluency
in English is almost indistinguishable from that of an
educated native speaker of English. Sometimes I do find
mistranslations in these English summaries, which is probably
due to insufficient knowledge on the part of the native
English speaker of the original language, but it is very
rare, and I am always surprised when this happens. English
summaries of Japanese patents on the Japanese Patent Office
website, on the other hand, do not really contain mistranslations
based on misunderstanding of the original language (because
they are written by native Japanese speakers) and the
technical terms are usually correct, but the English is
sometime so bad that I have to read the Japanese text
at least twice before I can figure out what the English
text means.
The Japanese Writing System—The First Line of Defense
in Japanese against Foreign Speakers or Translators
One
has to learn at least two thousand kanji
characters to be able to read simple texts, but
many more, about twice as many, to be able to
translate technical and medical texts.
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There are very good reasons
why it is more difficult to find qualified translators
who can translate well patents from a language such as
Japanese or Chinese than, for instance, from German or
French. Japanese is a much more difficult language to
learn than German or French. I am not saying that it is
easy to learn German, French, Russian, etc.—but I am saying
that it is much more difficult for a native speaker of
a European language to learn a language such as Japanese
or Chinese. One level of difficulty in Japanese (what
I would call the first line of defense against foreign
speakers or translators) is presented by the actual writing
system. In order to learn any language well, a student
of the language has to be able to read it and write it.
In Japanese, this means that this student will have to
learn two alphabets, katakana, which is used mostly
for transcription of foreign words, hiragana, which
is used for Japanese words or to indicate grammatical
aspects such as tense or prepositions (which are really
postpositions in Japanese), and several thousand Japanese
characters called kanji, (which means "Chinese
characters", as most of these characters were originally
adopted from Chinese). This means that one has to learn
at least two thousand kanji characters to be able
to read simple texts, but many more, about twice as many,
to be able to translate technical and medical texts. Unless
you are Japanese and you live in Japan where you start
learning kanji characters in kindergarten and then
spend the rest of your life surrounded by quite complicated
kanji characters everywhere you go, you will need
to spend a lot of time, probably several years, memorizing
characters. You don't have to do that to learn French
or Russian. On the other hand, it is also true that there
is a finite number of characters and character combinations
and anyone can learn them, it is just likely to take a
long time.
Another problem with
translation of Japanese patents is poor legibility of
characters in older copies of Japanese patents. An Unexamined
(Kokai) Japanese Patent Application has four small pages
which fit a large page (letter size in US or A4 size in
Japan) only because the characters are quite small. When
the size of the characters is reduced, some combination
of strokes inside a complicated character, which may easily
consist of more than 20 strokes, some of them very small,
will appear as dark rectangles referred to by professional
technical translators as "those freaking blobs".
The problem is, when the meaningful portion inside a character
is illegible, the whole character is illegible and the
translator has to make an educated guess. This is unlikely
to occur with a patent application in French or German,
unless it is many decades old, and even then, only one
or two letters in a word would be illegible, not most
of the meaningful portion of the word. Translators of
Japanese patents, on the other hand, have to systematically
eliminate various potential characters when dozens of
similar characters may match a given blob, depending on
the context. The big problem therefore, is that when the
translator does not really see the actual character, he
or she is guessing, and thus does not know for certain
which character it is. If I were to include a translator's
note every time when I see an illegible character, I would
not have any clients left. Therefore, I usually just take
my best guess without letting the client know. After 20
years of translating Japanese patents on a daily basis,
my guess is a pretty safe one, I would hope, but it is
still a guess. Thanks to improved technology, more recent
patent applications are published in a large font which
is clearly legible. However, many patents that need to
be translated as evidence of prior art are quite old,
twenty, thirty, fifty or more years old (the oldest Japanese
patent that I translated last year was from 1937, but
thankfully, the text was very legible).
But even getting past
the hurdle represented by a very complicated writing system,
so complicated that the system went through several reforms
since 1868, which were designed to simplify it, and did
simplify it to some extent, but also made it even more
complicated because a new layer of "simpler"
kanji characters that must be memorized again in
addition to old characters by the translator were created
in this manner, is only a first step toward fluency in
Japanese for a foreign speaker.
The Second Line of Defense—The Incredibly Infuriating
"Nihongo no Bunpo" (Japanese Grammar)
The next hurdle, a formidable
one, is the Japanese grammar. To a native speaker of English
or another European language who is just starting to learn
Japanese, Japanese grammar looks like a jungle full of
unknown and dangerous animals. The parts of speech in
English, German, French and many other European languages
are virtually identical, or at least very similar—after
all, grammatical rules and conventions in these languages
were often developed and categorized for centuries to
mirror Latin grammar. In English or French, it is fairly
easy to determine what is the subject, a noun, or a verb,
or where a word begins and ends. But Japanese grammar
obviously does not reflect Latin grammar at all. It is
up to the reader to determine where a word begins or ends
in the text—there are no spaces between words in written
text, and in fact, it is not clear what exactly represents
one word in Japanese, or whether one word is in fact a
legitimate structural unit in Japanese. There is usually
no distinction between singular or plural. At least most
of the time, there is none: you can put plural in, if
you are so inclined, but most of the time, every noun
would have to be translated into English as "part(s),
hook(s), wheel(s), widget(s), knife/knives, etc., if you
insist on a correct translation. A patent translator can
do this perhaps once or twice in a patent claim to be
as precise as possible, but in the rest of the patent,
he or she will have to take an educated, but sometime
risky, guess, while constantly looking at the figures,
if there are figures, to see if these figures indicate
one ore more elements. That is why, when a patent lawyer
asks me whether the Japanese original uses singular or
plural, my honest answer is usually "I don't know".
Japanese is also not very consistent when it comes to
distinguishing between tenses, for instance there is no
real future tense in Japanese, although a distinction
is made between present and past. And although there is
no "real future" in Japanese, some adjectives
(so called "keiyo doshi" adjectives) can be
in the present or past tense. The preferred tense in patents,
however, is the undetermined -ru form, which is
really no tense at all, a form that is similar to the
infinitive in European languages. This can also cause
problems in Japanese patents, although not as much as
the lack of distinction between singular and plural. Japanese
also often uses past tense where English would normally
use present tense and vice versa (but this problem also
exist in German and other languages).
A much more important
problem is the fact that a Japanese sentence does not
necessarily need to have a subject or an object, although
just like German, it will invariably end with a verb.
The cavalier attitude of Japanese language to subject
is due to the fact that context is much more important
in Japanese than for instance in English—so important,
in fact, that context plays a fixed grammatical role.
The subject can be represented by several so called particles—wa,
ga, wo (wo is mostly used for object in Japanese,
but sometime needs to be translated as subject into English),
indicating mostly the position of a noun in Japanese and
its relationship to other parts of speech in the sentence.
But the subject, represented by one of these particles,
can be located several sentences before the present one,
and by the time the translator has reached the present
complicated sentence, full of somewhat weird and possibly
subversive technical terms, he or she may have forgotten
what the subject actually was, especially if it was on
the previous page. However, if you can trace back correctly
the connections in the sentence, you can always find the
proper subject in the context of several sentences, as
long as you understand these sentences (and as long as
they make some sense in Japanese, which is not always
the case).
Another annoying characteristic
of Japanese grammar from the viewpoint of a native speaker
of a European language, especially in patents and technical
and medical articles, is the tendency of the language
to string together several kanji characters to
create new technical terms in Japanese, similar to the
way in which German compound nouns can be strung together
to create long German words. But because every character
is sort of like a picture, it has a meaning, several meanings,
in fact, and a good translator will be able to find the
corresponding technical terms in English, if there is
one, from dictionaries, or from the Internet, or supply
his own term if these characters do not seem to represent
a legitimate term. However, technology has made the job
of technical translators much easier in the last decade
or so, because the Japanese Patent Office website can
be searched in Japanese to establish whether a certain
string of characters is in fact a technical term and whether
there are English summaries in which this Japanese term
has been translated into English. This is particularly
helpful with complicated medical terms, such as names
of bones, muscles and tendons, or names of species of
fish or algae, etc. (there are many Japanese patents in
this field for obvious reason).
What Does Boiled Fish Paste Geometrical Shoe Heel Design
Looks Like? Is It By Any Chance Similar to a Guêpièrre
Bra?
Transcription of foreign
words into katakana, on the other hand, can be
much more difficult to figure out (as mentioned above,
katakana is one of two Japanese alphabets which
is mostly used for transcription of foreign words indicating
the proper pronunciation of these words in Japanese).
Technical translators are often asked to translate documents
on diverse and sometime quite arcane subjects. Last year
for example, I became something of an expert on shoe heel
design, as I was translating a number of patents and utility
models on this subject from Japanese, German and French.
The oldest patent was in French, it was from 1920s, I
think. Then there were quite a few German ones from the
Third Reich era, with the German eagle holding the swastika
in his crooked talons on the front page, and a few in
Japanese from the 1960s. One of them was in handwritten
Japanese. The inventor, who had a rather nasty handwriting,
was clearly fond of seafood because the geometrical shapes
and patterns of shoe heels were described in this handwritten
patent document with frequent references to sushi and
other traditional Japanese cuisine items. I suppose every
Japanese reader can imagine what a "kamaboko"
pattern will probably look like, but what image will the
term "boiled fish paste pattern" evoke in an
American reader? (Kamaboko means boiled fish paste—I
eat it a few times a month, but my guess is that most
of my customers probably have no idea what it is). A more
recent and equally fascinating subject, which I had the
pleasure of translating for the past couple of years,
involves intricate lingerie design, in particular some
daunting improvements of the bra design. This is in fact
not an easy subject because it involves complicated and
detailed concepts relating to mechanical engineering,
textile materials, some chemistry and a lot of special
terms used in the fashion industry by lingerie designers.
Plus, not being a woman myself, I never really had much
first hand knowledge with the subject at hand, except
for some rudimentary introduction when I was a teenager,
which was long time ago (and the bras' design has changed
quite a bit since then). But, as always, the most difficult
technical terms relating to any technical field, including
lingerie design, from the viewpoint of a Japanese patent
translator, are foreign terms transcribed into Japanese
katakana. It is easy enough to decipher "outer
bra", "corset", or "bodice" from
transcription into katakana, ("outaah bura",
"kohsetto", "bodisu"), but it is really
time consuming to figure out "guêpièrre"
from katakana, especially if you had no idea that such
a word existed in the first place, or on what language
was the transcription into katakana based. Another
problem with katakana words is that these words
are often misspelled in Japanese because Japanese speakers
often don't know the correct spelling of the original
term in the foreign language. For instance instead of
"gepiyehru", which is how the word should be
transcribed into Japanese, the word could end up as "kepiyehru",
in which case it would be virtually impossible to track
down the term. In fact, at first I thought that the original
word might be an erroneous katakana transcription of "Gefühl"
("feeling" in German), and wasted some precious
time researching "Gefühl lingerie" on the
Internet—and since there is a lot of Gefühl lingerie,
I was led on a wild goose chase for quite a while before
I figured out that the original word must be in fact French.
Technology Does Make Life Easier These Days for Japanese
Translators
After more than 30 years
of trying to learn the Japanese language, and more than
20 years of translating Japanese patents into English
almost on a daily basis, I must say that there are fewer
"wild goose chases" such as the one mentioned
above, mainly thanks to Internet resources that are available
instantaneously to technical translators, including the
capability to Google terms in Japanese and English and
the capability to search the Japanese Patent Office website
in Japanese and in English. An Internet search for a technical
term may take a bit longer than opening a dictionary,
but every dictionary is by definition limited and obsolete
by the time it is available for sale, let alone many years
later. On the other hand, the capability to store technical
terms on the Internet is without limitations, and even
very recent terms can be usually found online quite easily
(although older terms are often much more difficult to
find on the Internet).
A few years ago I visited
the Japanese Language Department at the Charles University
in Prague, my old alma mater where I studied Japanese
in the seventies. Technology has changed the way the language
is taught there as well. Instead of a big blackboard by
the front wall on which our professor was writing Japanese
and Chinese characters (he sure did look like a bearded
sage from an old Chinese illustration of a Zen textbook),
there were at least a dozen computer stations in the class,
equipped with specialized character teaching software
and connected to the Internet. In fact, one of the Japanese
teachers told me that he was also at the moment translating
a Japanese biotechnology patent into Czech, and he checked
out my website while we were talking to see if there is
any useful information there.
Thanks to modern technology,
in particular Internet, we can perhaps hope that in spite
of the formidable obstacles to a good translation from
one language into another, especially between languages
that are as different from each other as Japanese and
English, the changes will be relatively minor, as the
translator no longer works in isolation from the "real
world" using mostly only the reference which is stored
in his or her brain and in the dictionaries.