Abstract

The article addresses two under-researched areas, that is the translation of nonfiction picturebooks and the relationship between translation and multilingual children’s literature. It discusses the publication context of The Story of Ukraine. An Anthem of Glory and Freedom, a bilingual nonfiction picturebook available in English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian editions, and reflects on the differences between these publications. The analysis reveals various differences between the three language versions. Adopting Borodo’s (2020) integrated approach, based on a systematic examination of the language of translated children’s literature, the article identifies several linguistic patterns, including amplification, fairy-tale-ization, mitigation, and simplification. The Ukrainian text often uses poetic and evocative language; the English text is more concise and straightforward; whereas the Polish translation is much more expressive. The value of this study lies in demonstrating that translations of non-fiction do more than simply ‘communicate information’; they introduce new meanings absent from the source texts due to various editorial and publishing decisions. The study also provides a broader context by presenting statistical data about Ukrainian refugees worldwide and explaining how book markets responded to the growing demand for bilingual editions in Poland and English-speaking countries.

Keywords: children’s literature translation, translating nonfiction, picturebooks, multilingual books, Ukraine, migration

1. Introduction

This article addresses two under-researched topics, that is the translation of nonfiction and the relationship between translation and multilingual children’s books. Although Children's Literature and Translation Studies (CLTS) is a well-established subfield of Translation Studies, characterized by an increasing number of conferences, PhD projects and publications, further input from concrete case studies and more in-depth research is needed to address the conspicuous gaps in these two specific topics. The article begins by highlighting the complexity and research potential of translated nonfiction, to then focus on multilingual children’s literature from a translation perspective. We subsequently discuss the publication context of The Story of Ukraine. An Anthem of Glory and Freedom, a bilingual nonfiction picturebook in English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian editions.

We first draw attention to the importance of multimodality and images, which are central to texts for children, and then examine the bilingual editions in linguistic terms. To this end, we introduce a range of techniques used in the translation of children’s literature: mitigation, didacticism, infantilization, amplification, fairy-tale-ization, simplification, explicitation, stylization, standardization and modernization. This methodological perspective is based on Borodo's (2020) integrated approach, which demonstrates that a systematic examination of the language used in translated children's literature can reveal recurring patterns. We conclude by suggesting how this study can lead to a large-scale research project concerning translation and multilingual books in the context of the three languages in question, that is English, Ukrainian and Polish.

Although they represent a significant part of literature for young readers, nonfiction children’s books have traditionally received less attention within academia (O’Sullivan 2013: 460). Not so long ago, they were not even considered a legitimate part of children’s literature (Goga et al.: 2021: 1), which may be related to what von Merveldt (2018: 241, in Goga et al. 2021: 1) refers to as “the grand narrative according to which the history of children’s literature should be seen as a triumphant emancipation from instruction to delight”. However, it is often the case that nonfiction children’s books may offer both instruction and delight, being characterized by inventiveness, finesse and originality. Grilli (2020: 11) notes that the opening decades of the twenty-first century in particular saw an increase in the number of original and experimental nonfiction books for children. Similarly, Masi (2021: 60) observes that nonfiction is a diverse field “highly hybrid in terms of style, format, activities and approaches, which can be innovative, creative, even subversive at times”. Such literature increasingly aims to evoke not only an intellectual response but also aesthetic and emotional reactions among young readers (Grilli 2020: 14).

The originality and inventiveness of nonfiction books for children may explain why translation scholars’ perception of them has been changing for some time. This may be illustrated with recent studies on the translation of sex education books (Paprocka and Wandel 2022; Dymel-Trzebiatowska 2021), historical books (Borodo 2017: 137-161; Sezzi 2019) or nonfiction literature on eco-literacy and geography (Masi 2021; Woźniak 2021).  Such studies (see Borodo 2025 for a detailed discussion) address questions concerning the interplay between the verbal and the visual, different notions of education and alternative methods of communicating knowledge. These methods may be influenced by socio-cultural norms, ideological issues, and culture-specific editorial and publishing practices. As Goga et al. (2021: 2) rightly note, what is crucial in the analysis of illustrated nonfiction for children is “the acknowledgement that the dissemination of knowledge in nonfiction picturebooks varies according to the context”. Another field that has traditionally received less attention from translation researchers is multilingual children’s literature.

2. Multilingual children’s books

As Hartmann and McGillicuddy (2025: 2) point out, two broad categories of multilingual picturebooks can be distinguished. The first of these includes picturebooks that combine two language versions of a text, usually the translated and original versions. These books are often referred to interchangeably as dual-language, parallel or bilingual picturebooks. The other category of multilingual picturebooks does not use two complete versions of the text in different languages, but rather intermingles two or more languages within the same publication. These books are referred to as an interlingual, translingual or plurilingual. The first of these categories is based on parallelism, with each language having an equal share in the story. In the second category, different languages are mixed in such a way that one language is prioritized (Kümmerling-Meibauer 2025: 13).

In practice, the languages used in multilingual picturebooks can be mixed in a variety of ways. For instance, Kümmerling-Meibauer (2025) presents an example from Sabine Knauf’s German picturebook Einsteigen bitte! Mücke und Floh fahren U-Bahn, in which the narrative appears in German, while the dialogue of the passengers is displayed in speech bubbles in different languages, such as English, Turkish and Italian, to emphasize the multilingual and multicultural environment described by the book. One language may be prioritized, as it the case with Rubia and the Three Osos by Susan M. Elya and Melissa Sweet, which is an English-Spanish version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, where Spanish words (e.g. papá, casita) marked in a different colour and larger font are integrated in the English text (Short and Daly 2025: 26). In more recent American picturebooks examined by Short and Daly (ibid.), non-English words are not marked in any way, but are simply woven seamlessly into the text. This approach does no set English as the norm, nor does it treat non-English expressions as typographically different and “other”. Another category includes picturebooks in which a language is used for the main narrative and another language (or languages) is used for the intraiconic text in the illustrations. This can serve multiple purposes, such as providing hints about specific settings and adding new layers of meaning to the narrative (Costa and Ramos 2005: 207-209).

From an analytical perspective, what makes multilingual picturebooks particularly interesting is the combination of different modes that contribute to the creation of meaning on a page, as well as the formal characteristics of such publications. As Kümmerling-Meibauer (2025: 14) notes, multilingual picturebooks are characterized by a complex interplay of modes – illustration, text, and script (e.g. Latin, Cyrillic, Arabic or Japanese) – and the use of certain culturally transmitted visual codes relating to colours, patterns, cultural symbols, and reading direction (left-to-right in European books, but right-to-left in East Asian and Arabic books). Children need to decipher these semiotic codes in order to interpret them, and Kümmerling-Meibauer (2025: 22-23) compares the act of reading a multilingual picturebook to code-switching, a concept from second language acquisition and multilingualism studies. Just as code-switching speakers move between different languages, readers of multilingual picturebooks continually switch between text and images, as well as between different languages and scripts. The analysis of such picturebooks can take into account their various formal characteristics. These include the external aspects (e.g. the front and back covers or book jacket), inner aspects (e.g. front matter, the title page and author notes) and the main body of the publication (e.g. font size, page layout and the use of bold or italics) (Short and Daly 2025: 31), along with many other aspects such as the use of colours or paper quality.

Although the reasons behind the creation and publication of multilingual picturebooks vary, several major motivations can be identified. Costa and Ramos (2025: 209) suggest the following: (a) a commercially motivated decision to reach a broader international audience; (b) the creative and rhetorical objective of enriching the artistic potential of a picturebook; and (c) the promotion of linguistic and intercultural awareness, particularly with regard to immigrants, refugees, and minority languages and cultures. Providing an insightful example of the latter category, Daly et al. (2025) demonstrate how such books can contribute to the revitalisation of the endangered indigenous languages of New Zealand and Wales. Until the early to mid-nineteenth century, Cymraeg (Welsh) and Māori were the dominant languages in their respective geographical regions, subsequently threatened and replaced by English due to the expansion of the British Empire. Bilingual books have been published in Wales and New Zealand since the 1970s, with a notable increase since 2010, due to the changing linguistic policies and a growing demand for educational materials in these languages (Daly et al. 2025: 46). In this sense, the books make space for endangered, minority languages, offering them to readers in the public domain. They are examples of linguistic activism, serving the goals of raising linguistic awareness and language revitalization.

To provide another example, this time directly related to the Ukrainian context, following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in the summer of 2022, Lindsay Myers and Bláithín Breathnach self-published a multilingual picturebook combining three different languages: English, Irish Gaelic, and Ukrainian. The book aimed to show solidarity with the Ukrainian people, introduce displaced Ukrainian children to the Irish language and culture, and help Irish children to develop a greater understanding of the Ukrainian language and culture. Entitled I Want to Speak Ukrainian, the book centres on the relationship between Leila, an Irish schoolgirl, and Darynka, a Ukrainian refugee. Developed in cooperation with the Galway Ukrainian community and sponsored by the University of Galway, it was distributed to primary schools free of charge. In terms of its formal characteristics, the picturebook was initially published in a translingual format, with the main narrative written in English and the intraiconic text (e.g. words on classroom posters) written in Irish Gaelic and Ukrainian. The Ukrainian words were written in the Cyrillic alphabet and appeared alongside their phonetic transcriptions. This original edition was subsequently published in three separate editions. They had the same internal layout and images, but this time one of the three languages was used for the narrative in each edition, while words in the other two languages were included as intraiconic text in different places on the pages of the book. In the following sections, we will examine another multilingual picturebook project related to Ukraine. First, we will shed more light on its publication context.

3. Setting the bilingual Ukrainian editions in context

Over the past three years, Ukraine has been at the centre of international attention due to Russia’s full-scale invasion, which has profoundly changed the lives of millions of Ukrainians, forcing them to leave their homes and seek refuge abroad. As of 31 July 2025, more than five million Ukrainian refugees had been registered worldwide. In Europe, the countries hosting the largest number of Ukrainian refugees include Germany (1,227,090), Poland (1,000,320), the Czech Republic (374,310), and the United Kingdom (254,580) (UNHCR 2025). The United States and Canada are the countries with the largest numbers of Ukrainian refugees outside Europe. As of 1 July 2023, there were around 234,500 Ukrainians in Canada, and around 280,000 in the USA as of 21 March 2023 (Mykhailyshyna et al. 2023: 12). Notably, around 31% of all refugees are children (as of 31 July 2025) who have found themselves in new linguistic and cultural environments (UNHCR 2025). It has been therefore an important task for parents to help their children adapt to new environments and to find ways to further acquaint them with the history and culture of their country of origin. In turn, many non-Ukrainian children living outside of Ukraine have limited knowledge about the country of their new Ukrainian friends.

The book markets responded quickly to this demand by offering a wide range of books. In English-speaking countries and in Poland, a number of bilingual English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian books have been published to help Ukrainian children integrate into their new host societies and introduce local children to Ukrainian culture, history, traditions, and the current situation in Ukraine. The markets for bilingual English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian children's books have expanded rapidly since 2022, but the themes they cover differ. English-Ukrainian bilingual children's books often introduce children to such concepts as friendship, migration, identity and diversity in society. For instance, such books as We Can All Be Friends and Who Are We? encourage young readers to appreciate and reflect on social diversity. Some books, such as The Turnip and Kolobok: The Small Round Bun, retell popular Ukrainian folk tales to introduce children to Ukrainian culture. Others, such as A Wonderful Day and From My Window, are designed to help children learn English or Ukrainian as a second language.

By contrast, Polish-Ukrainian bilingual children’s books primarily aim to educate young readers about the war and its impact on family life. For example, the books Zagubiona Mruczusia [The Lost Mruczusia] and Teraz tu jest nasz dom [Now this is our home] tell the stories of families affected by the conflict and recount their experiences of migrating to Poland. Other books, such as Podwójne święta [Double holidays] and Widzimy się w Polsce! [We will see each other in Poland!] introduce children to Polish and Ukrainian culture, traditions and history. Similar to English-Ukrainian bilingual children's books, such Polish-Ukrainian bilingual children's books as W szkole i przedszkolu! [At school and kindergarten] and Poznajmy się! [Let's get to know each other!] support children in learning basic words and phrases in both languages. In this article, we will examine the nonfiction picturebook The Story of Ukraine. An Anthem of Glory and Freedom, which introduces preschool children to the basic information about Ukraine, a “multiethnic, multilingual, and multicultural country” (Kharchenko and Sampson 2022, n.p.).

The Story of Ukraine is a bilingual English-Ukrainian picturebook for children written by American children’s author Michael Sampson and his wife, Olena Kharchenko, and illustrated by Ukrainian artist Polina Doroshenko. Michael Sampson has long been fascinated by Ukraine’s people, history and geography (Bird 2022). During his time as a Fulbright Scholar in Ukraine from 2021 to 2022, he taught English to primary school children. However, with the outbreak of the war in February 2022, he was forced to evacuate to Warsaw, Poland, where he continued his work. While attending peaceful rallies in the city, Sampson was deeply moved when he heard a group of people singing the Ukrainian national anthem. Recalling his previous work, I Pledge Allegiance – a book about the American national anthem that he co-authored with Bill Martin Jr. – he wondered if he could create something similar for Ukraine (ibid.). Sampson thus invited Olena Kharchenko to collaborate with him on a book dedicated to the Ukrainian national anthem. She was “excited and supported his idea” (ibid.). She later recalled: “I thought it was very good timing for that project and a way to get the truth out about Ukraine’s history” (ibid.).

The book presents the history of Ukraine, the origins of its culture and the spirit of its people through the lines of the national anthem. It begins with several pages that delve into the geography of the country and the history of the Ukrainian people. The following pages contain the lyrics of Ukraine’s national anthem, alongside a detailed explanation of the text and its historical significance. They also describe Ukrainians who “will do anything to protect Ukraine and will pay any price to keep her free” (Kharchenko and Sampson 2022, n.p.). The authors then describe the meaning of the coat of arms, which is a blue shield bearing a gold trident, and explain the significance of the colours of the flag: blue reflects “the bright, peaceful, cloudless Ukrainian sky”, and yellow symbolises “the golden wheat fields” (ibid.). Readers will also have the opportunity to learn about other national symbols, traditional costumes, folk dances, traditional cuisine, cultural traditions and prominent Ukrainians. The entire book conveys the idea that Ukraine’s “greatest treasure is the Ukrainian people, and their hopes for a peaceful future” (ibid.).

The English-Ukrainian bilingual edition was originally published in Ukraine on 24 August, Ukraine’s Independence Day, by the Old Lion Publishing House, and in the United States in December 2022 by Brown Books Kids (Johnson 2025). In Poland, the picturebook was translated by Marta Tychmanowicz and published as a Polish-Ukrainian bilingual edition by the Babaryba publishing house in November 2022. Marta Tychmanowicz is not only the translator of the book. She is also a co-owner of Babaryba, together with her husband. In both editions, the English and Polish texts are predominantly placed on the left-hand pages, with the Ukrainian text on the right. This allows children to become visually familiar with the Ukrainian language and its Cyrillic alphabet. The book is essential reading for anyone eager to discover Ukraine’s rich cultural heritage and grasp the reasons behind its desire for independence. It can also serve as a starting point for conversations with children about the war and its consequences.

4. Images, colours, and the book cover

The Story of Ukraine features a plethora of vibrant, layered and multicoloured illustrations by Polina Doroshenko. The symbolic colours of the Ukrainian flag, namely blue and yellow, dominate the artist’s vivid, detailed artwork, thereby reinforcing the book’s patriotic tone. Other colours such as red, orange, green, white, grey and black, complement the illustrations, creating a visually rich and expressive palette. The folklore-style illustrations do not interfere with the readability of the text; instead, they reinforce the picturebook’s main themes of resilience, unity and national pride.

For example, the opening illustration (Image 1) introduces young readers to the geography of Ukraine. It presents the country’s most characteristic regional features in a simplified yet artistic map: the Carpathian Mountains in the west, coal mines in the east, churches in the north, and the Black Sea in the south. The map also conveys a symbolic message, as it depicts the entire territory of Ukraine, including regions currently affected by war. This serves as a visual reminder of the Ukrainians’ hope and aspiration to restore territorial integrity. The two main characters of the book, a boy and a girl dressed in traditional folk costumes, are positioned on either side of the map and invite readers to embark on a visual journey through their homeland.

Image 1. Depiction of a symbolic map of Ukraine with its characteristic regional features

As the visual narrative unfolds, each subsequent illustration immerses readers in Ukraine’s historical and cultural heritage, allowing them to visually familiarise themselves with key national symbols, including the national flag, coat of arms, national flower and national plant, as well as traditional garments, and traditional dishes.

Readers also have the opportunity to encounter some of Ukraine’s most prominent historical and cultural figures, depicted on the branches of a bright yellow tree adorned with colourful flowers (see Image 2). On the left is composer Mykola Leontovych pointing to musical notes. Above him is poet Taras Shevchenko holding his famous collection of poems, Kobzar. Next to him is artist Kateryna Bilokur, captured in the act of painting flowers inspired by folk motifs and the beauty of nature. On the right is aircraft designer Ihor Sikorsky standing next to his invention: the helicopter. The tree also symbolizes Ukraine’s living and growing heritage, which continues to flourish thanks to the talents and achievements of its people. Overall, the illustrations introduce readers to the richness of Ukrainian heritage, encouraging them to discover the meanings embedded within the artwork.

Image 2. Depiction of prominent figures in Ukrainian history and culture

In terms of its formal characteristics, the English-Ukrainian edition is larger in size than the Polish-Ukrainian edition. It also has a dust jacket with folded flaps, featuring photographs of Olena Kharchenko, Michael Sampson and Polina Doroshenko, along with brief biographical information about each of them. Here, the reader learns that Olena Kharchenko is from Dnipro, Ukraine, that she lives in the USA together with her husband and daughter, and that she “has been actively volunteering in different projects trying to help Ukraine to resist Russian aggression since 2014”,  when Russia invaded and annexed Crimea and then occupied the Donbas region in eastern Ukraine. Michael Sampson is described as “a New York Times bestselling author of more than forty books for children”, including Armadillo Antics and Ten Little Squirrels, and Polina Doroshenko as a Ukrainian artist living in Kyiv, whose illustrations “were awarded the White Ravens Award and were among the finalists of the Bologna Children’s Book Fair”. The same information is repeated in Cyrillic on the folded flap on right-hand side. There is also a QR code at the bottom of the left-hand side folded flap that the reader can scan to listen to the Ukrainian national anthem.

Image 3. The front covers of the English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian editions

The front cover of the English-Ukrainian and the Polish-Ukrainian bilingual editions (see Image 3) features a bilingual title and identical images, as well as mentions of the two authors and the illustrator in both the Latin and Cyrillic alphabets. The back cover features four recommendations from notable figures, such as Jeff Kinney, the author of the best-selling Diary of the Wimpy Kid series, as well as a promotional blurb.

Image 4. The use of bold typeface in the English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian versions of the text

There are practically no changes of the images, colours and page layout in the two bilingual editions. The typography, however, was creatively adjusted in all three languages in the texts of the Ukrainian anthem, in which bold typeface was applied to various expressions in Ukrainian, Polish and English. This is shown in Image 4 with an example of two selected pages from the English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian bilingual editions. The most notable differences noticeable between the English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian editions relate to how the textual message was mediated and negotiated in the three language versions. This will be the focus of the final section, whereas below we will present the methodological approach.

5. Children’s literature translation techniques

This section introduces translation techniques traditionally used in translated children’s literature, that is mitigation, didacticism, infantilization, amplification, fairy-tale-ization, simplification, explicitation, stylization, standardization and modernization. Some of them are typical of translating for children; others are found in translated texts in general. These techniques are essentially qualitative in nature, indicating how exactly a translated text is transformed in terms of content, although they may overlap with such quantifiable techniques as addition, omission and condensation, the terms we will also use in passing. This research perspective is based on Borodo’s (2020) integrated approach, which shows how systematic examination of the language used in translated children’s literature can reveal recurring linguistic patterns.

The first of these techniques is mitigation, which involves toning down or deleting content deemed inappropriate in order to make translated texts less controversial and disturbing for young readers of a given target culture. This may involve addressing societal taboos and problematic passages relating to death, violence, cruelty, nudity, sex, children’s supposedly inappropriate behaviour, bad habits, alcohol, religion, and racial issues (Klingberg 1986: 59–61; O’Sullivan 2005: 82–91; Nikolajeva 2006: 281–284; Van Coillie 2011; Pokorn 2012). Translators of children’s literature have also sometimes used didacticism to educate and instruct readers by expanding their knowledge or by suggesting appropriate models of behaviour (Nikolajeva 2006: 283; Pieciul-Karmińska 2014: 66; Looby 2015: 164). This may include both heavy-handed moralizing in earlier translations as well as additions that enhance the educational value of a translation. Amplification, or hyperbolization, is the use of exaggerated language to build tension and dramatize selected passages (House 2004: 693; Pieciul-Karmińska 2011: 89, Kaniklidou and House 2017: 9). This may involve intensifying a message by heightening suspense, adding exclamation marks or adopting more emotional and evocative style. Fairy-tale-ization is the process of adapting a text to fit the conventions of fairy tales by using predominantly physical and tangible terms in characterization, as well as fairy-tale attributes and expressions such as “Once upon a time…”, when these are not used in the original text (Pieciul-Karmińska 2011: 89–90; Borodo 2020: 120-124). In turn, infantilization refers to the depiction of protagonists, which may be illustrated by introducing diminutives and emotionally charged expressions such as “little”, “poor”, “our”, “dear”, when these forms do not appear in the source text (Adamczyk-Garbowska 1988: 113–116; Ben-Ari 1992: 226; House 2004: 690; Pieciul-Karmińska 2011: 87–89).

While these translation techniques are typical of children’s literature, others, such as simplification, explicitation, stylization, standardization and modernization, can be also found in texts translated for both children and adults. Simplification is often considered an inherent part of translation (Laviosa 1998: 8), although it provides fertile ground for analysis for researchers of translated children’s books to identify instances of omitting details, complex syntax or challenging vocabulary. According to Shavit (1986: 113), this is one of the defining features of this type of translation, since language, plot and characterization can be adapted to suit children’s reading and comprehension abilities, as defined by society. Translators can also resort to explicitation, a process which has been extensively studied and documented in translation research (Blum-Kulka’s [1986] 2001: 300; Séguinot 1988: 108; Chesterman 1997: 71; Klaudy 2009: 106–107). In children’s literature, translators can express what is implicit or absent from the original text at a syntactic or lexical level, providing more specific and coherent information. Another translation technique that can be identified in children’s literature is the standardization of fictional dialogue, which may involve replacing dialects, sociolects, slang, vulgar language or intentional grammatical errors with more “appropriate” forms that conform to the notion of idealized, correct language (Looby 2015: 171; Borodo 2020: 136-139). The opposite technique is stylization, which may be applied when no stylization is found in the source text. This may involve deliberate archaization (Pieciul-Karmińska 2016: 53–56) or accentuation of certain linguistic habits of literary protagonists (Bell [1987] 2006: 233). One other technique that can be found in literary translation in general, but which has been amply illustrated with examples from translated children’s literature, is modernization. This is based on the idea of updating everyday items and details, concepts, and patterns of behaviour (Klingberg 1978: 86; Oittinen 2000: 135–142; Nikolajeva 2006: 282–283).

Which of these translation techniques, if any, can be found in The Story of Ukraine? Is any one of them particularly common? With this question in mind, we will now examine the linguistic make-up of the book in order to identify recurring patterns. Although we will analyse all three linguistic versions, our primary focus will be on the Polish text in search of translation techniques. This is because we have not been able to establish whether the English or Ukrainian version was created first, or if one was based on the other. It is also equally possible that these versions were developed in parallel. However, the Polish text in the Polish-Ukrainian edition is clearly based on the English-Ukrainian edition.

We also got in touch with Marta Tychmanowicz from the Babaryba publishing house to ask her about the process of creating the Polish text. We were curious to know whether she used the English or the Ukrainian text as the source, or both these language versions simultaneously. She was kind enough to respond (personal communication, April 2025), informing us that the Polish text was mainly translated from English, but that the final version was also consulted with the Polish-Ukrainian translator. While we received no further insights into the translation process, it is noteworthy that the translation was to some extent a collaborative effort, just as the creation of the original English-Ukrainian edition was.

6. An analysis of the bilingual editions

An examination of the bilingual editions reveals a number of differences between the English, Ukrainian and Polish versions. They include changes in style, additions, omissions, as well as various textual reformulations. The differences between the English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian editions are evident already in the titles. As can be seen in Table 1, the English-Ukrainian edition uses the same title – The Story of Ukraine. An Anthem of Glory and Freedom – in both languages. In the Polish-Ukrainian edition, the Ukrainian title was kept, but the Polish title was changed to A small book about great Ukraine. With the text of the national anthem. The reference to the “small book” may refer to the book’s compact size (the Polish-Ukrainian publication is smaller than the original English-Ukrainian edition), but it also serves to create a stylistic antithesis between the small format of the book and the greatness of Ukraine, with its rich culture and long history.

Table 1. Differences in the titles of the two bilingual picturebooks

Furthermore, in the English-Ukrainian edition, both language versions have the same subtitle, namely An Anthem of Glory and Freedom, which reflects the anthem’s symbolic significance for Ukrainians. The Polish translation has lost this symbolic meaning by rephrasing the subtitle as With the text of the national anthem, which simply informs the reader that the anthem’s lyrics are included in the book.

The translation technique that stands out most clearly in the Polish text is amplification. Various passages of the Polish text demonstrate a tendency to add exclamations and a more evocative, emotional style. Table 2 illustrates how sentences that were more neutral and informative in the English and Ukrainian versions were expressed differently in the corresponding Polish version.

Table 2. Examples of amplification in the Polish translation

Whereas the English text uses a more neutral tone to say that “the best thing about Ukraine is the people”, the Polish text ends the corresponding sentence with an exclamation mark. Similarly, while the English text states in a concise and matter-of-fact way that “Ihor Sikorsky invented the helicopter” and that “Sergiy Korolev’s rocket design put the first human in space” the corresponding Polish text adds, in a more evocative style, that it was thanks to Sergiy Korolev that man “set out to conquer space!”, which is once again followed by an exclamation mark.

Amplification and differences in style between English and Polish texts can also be illustrated with another example, which focuses on the natural beauty of Ukraine (Table 3). The Ukrainian text uses poetic and evocative language, portraying Ukraine as a “picturesque country”, “embraced by” mountains, waters and forests, and with “the huge Dnipro River” at its heart. However, the English and Polish texts diverge in the way they express this message in the two bilingual editions. The English version is slightly less poetic and evocative in terms of style, providing information in a more concise way. For example, the phrase “embraced by the Carpathian Mountains” is phrased as “with the Carpathian Mountains to the west”, and the Dnipro River is no longer described as “huge”. In contrast, the Polish version expands the description of Ukraine, focusing not only on its aesthetic qualities but also on its size. It presents Ukraine as “a huge and picturesque country!”, a point which is further emphasized by the exclamation mark at the end of the sentence.

Table 3. Differences in describing the geography of Ukraine in the bilingual editions

The Polish text also informs the reader that the Dnipro River is “one of Europe’s longest rivers”, emphasizing its geographical location and the fact that Ukraine is part of Europe. This can be seen as an example of explicitation and, perhaps, also mild didacticism. It provides more specific information than the English original and increases the educational value of the text. This is not done in a moralizing sense, but rather to increase the text’s informativity and expand readers’ knowledge. Essentially, in comparison with the Ukrainian text, the English text is more straightforward and less poetic, while the Polish text is more informative and evocative.

The same tendency can be seen in another passage (Table 4), which discusses Ukrainian culinary traditions. Here, the Polish text provides further information on Ukraine’s cultural heritage and is once again characterised by a more expressive style, whereas the English text is more concise and less evocative.

Table 4. Textual differences in referring to Ukraine’s culinary traditions

The Polish translation ends with the sentence “It is necessary to try these delicious Ukrainian specialties!”, which is followed by an exclamation mark, unlike the other two language versions. The Polish text also places greater emphasis on the international recognition of borshch, describing it as “famous” and informing the reader that it is “listed as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage”, a detail missing from the English and Ukrainian versions. Apart from these changes, in English almost all Ukrainian dish names are transliterated using the Latin alphabet in the English text, except for “deruny”, which is translated as “potato pancakes”, creating an inconsistency with the other dishes. The Polish text, on the other hand, is more descriptive and detailed in places. The names of Ukrainian dishes are adapted to the Polish alphabet and their Polish equivalents are given in brackets, although certain dishes present in the Ukrainian version, such as “kovbasa” and “holubci”, are omitted without being translated or explained.

We also identified a clear example of fairy-tale-ization in the passage about Ukrainian history, presented in Table 5. Note how the Polish translation begins with the phrase “A long, long time ago…”, which is absent from the English and Ukrainian versions and which sets a fairy-tale tone for the rest of the Polish text.

Table 5. Differences in describing Ukraine’s historical roots in the bilingual editions

Another notable difference is the omission from the Polish text of the reference to the “peaceful people” and “peace-loving Ukrainians” from the English and Ukrainian versions respectively. This, in turn, may be classified as an instance of mitigation, which involves toning down or deleting content that could be perceived as problematic within a given culture. This change is most probably related to the fact that Poland and Ukraine (the second and third largest Slavic nations) share not only a long national border, but also a turbulent history spanning over a thousand years. Throughout this shared history, there have been periods of both war and alliance. In this context, referring to peace-loving Ukrainians, or peace-loving Poles for that matter, could be problematic, and was mitigated.

Yet another technique identified in the Polish text is simplification. This can be illustrated with the example presented in Table 6, describing the historical significance of Kozaks – the knights of the Ukrainian state – and their influence on modern-day Ukrainians.

Table 6. Differences in the treatment of the etymology of Kozaks

The Polish version is shorter, omitting the information about the etymology of the word “kozak”. This is possibly because it is a well-known expression used in the Polish language, although the exact reason for this omission is not entirely clear. What is also striking about the three language versions is the way they rearrange information and differ in various details. For instance, the final sentence of the Ukrainian text becomes the first sentence of the Polish version. Unlike the other versions, the Polish text more explicitly refers to the current events in Ukraine by stating that “just as Kozaks once did, now the Ukrainians are also defending their land and their right to freedom”.

6. Concluding remarks

The analysis of the English-Ukrainian and Polish-Ukrainian nonfiction picturebooks reveals various differences between these publications. Using Borodo’s (2020) integrated approach, based on a systematic examination of the language of translated children’s literature, we identified a number of linguistic patterns. The translation technique that clearly stands out in the Polish text is amplification. It has been illustrated with various passages that add exclamations and use a more evocative style (e.g. “Ukraine is a huge and picturesque country!”, “It is necessary to try these delicious Ukrainian specialties!”, “But the greatest thing about Ukraine is its people!”). We identified one instance of fairy-tale-ization (“A long, long time ago…”) in a passage about Ukrainian history and an example of mitigation, which involves toning down content that could be perceived as problematic. The Polish translation also contains an instance of simplification, omitting the information about the etymology of the word “kozak”, as well as insertions which increase the educational value of the text (describing Dnipro as “one of Europe’s longest rivers” and noting that the famous Ukrainian borshch is “listed as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage”). In general, while the Ukrainian text often uses poetic and evocative language, the English text is more concise and straightforward. Conversely, the Polish text is sometimes more expressive. The value of this study lies in demonstrating that translated non-fiction picturebooks do not simply ‘communicate information’ in a neutral and impartial way. They also introduce new meanings that are absent from the source text as a result of various editorial and publishing decisions.

Although this study focuses on one multilingual nonfiction picturebook and its two bilingual editions, the third section presented a broader context. We provided statistical information about Ukrainian refugees worldwide, including the children who have found themselves in new linguistic and cultural environments. We also demonstrated how book markets responded to the growing demand for bilingual editions by offering a wide range of books that nevertheless differ in the themes they cover in Poland and English-speaking countries. We believe that this study could pave the way for a large-scale research project focusing on bilingual books and translation in the context of Ukrainian, English and Polish. Such a project could provide a detailed analysis of the extratextual context, offering measurable, statistical insights into the surge of such publications in recent years, driven by the growing demand for these books. The project could focus on translation techniques, paratexts, typography, images and the relationship between the languages used in such bilingual editions. This project could promote intercultural awareness as well as raise linguistic awareness of comparable publications in English, Polish and Ukrainian, which may nevertheless differ in a number of ways.

About the author(s)

Yana Viknianska is a PhD student and lecturer in the Department of English Linguistics at the Kazimierz Wielki University in Bydgoszcz, Poland. Her research interests include multilingual books and the translation of children’s literature in the context of English, Polish and Ukrainian.

Michał Borodo is Associate Professor in the Department of English Linguistics at the Kazimierz Wielki University in Bydgoszcz, Poland. His research interests include the translation of children’s literature, tales, comic books, and fan translation. He wrote Translation, Globalization and Younger Audiences (2017) and English Translations of Korczak’s Children’s Fiction (2020). In 2025, together with Jorge Díaz-Cintas he edited The Routledge Handbook of Translation and Young Audiences.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

English:

The limited visibility of translation studies research produced in African contexts within the global translation debate is particularly evident when considering historical studies on translational and interpretative practices on the continent. Considering this gap, the present contribution outlines a historical reconstruction of literary translation in Swahili, focusing on four historical moments: the pre-nineteenth-century Swahili literary space; missionary activity and colonial rule; the dawn of independence; and the period from the 1990s to the present.

Across these periods, several key factors are examined: the study of translation flows, which allows individual translations to be situated in the context of others; extratextual contextualization, through which translations are analyzed in relation to broader social, cultural, and political contexts; the examination of discourses surrounding the texts, which are fundamental to their institutionalization and the construction of their value; and a focus on mediators (translators, editors, associations, and institutions) and their practices, situated at the intersection of different fields.

In this way, the history of Swahili translation is understood as a collective phenomenon of cultural production, shaped by the connections and conflicts among a wide network of mediators, institutions, and discursive practices that, at each historical moment, have both shaped and conveyed individual and collective interests and visions.

Italian:

La scarsa visibilità della ricerca traduttologica prodotta in contesti africani all’interno del dibattito globale sulla traduzione risulta particolarmente evidente quando si considerano gli studi storici sulle pratiche traduttive e interpretative nel continente. Alla luce di ciò, il presente contributo delinea una ricostruzione storica della traduzione letteraria in swahili, concentrandosi su quattro momenti storici: lo spazio letterario swahili pre-novecentesco; l’attività missionaria e il dominio coloniale; l’alba delle indipendenze; e il periodo dagli anni Novanta a oggi.

Nei diversi periodi considerati, vengono presi in esame vari fattori chiave: lo studio dei flussi traduttivi, che consente di collocare le singole traduzioni nel contesto di altre; la contestualizzazione extratestuale, attraverso cui le traduzioni sono analizzate alla luce dei più ampi contesti sociali, culturali e politici; l’esame dei discorsi che accompagnano i testi, fondamentali per la loro istituzionalizzazione e per la costruzione del loro valore; e un focus sui mediatori (traduttori, editori, associazioni, istituzioni) e la loro pratica, situata all’intersezione tra diversi campi.

In questo modo, la storia della traduzione in swahili è letta come un fenomeno collettivo di produzione culturale, costituito dalle connessioni e dai conflitti tra una vasta rete di mediatori, istituzioni e pratiche discorsive che, in ciascun momento storico, hanno sia modellato sia veicolato interessi e visioni individuali e collettivi.

Keywords: traduzione in swahili, storia della traduzione, storia africana, colonialismo, post-colonialismo, pre-colonialismo, translation into Swahili, history of translation, African history, colonialism, pre-colonialism, post-colonialism

1. Introduzione

L’internazionalizzazione della disciplina dei Translation Studies a cui si è assistito nelle ultime due decadi (Susam-Sarajeva 2002; Tymoczko 2006; Kothari e Wakabayashi 2009: 4), sostenuta dalla messa in discussione dell’eurocentrismo che ha a lungo dominato la disciplina stessa (Van Doorslaer e Flynn 2013) e dall’impatto dei Global Studies sulla riflessione traduttologica (Roig-Sanz e Kvirikashvili 2025), ha reso sempre più evidente la necessità di ampliare i confini geografici e concettuali di un campo storicamente eurocentrico. Ciò significa promuovere l’analisi di pratiche traduttive provenienti da contesti spesso ai margini del mainstream dei Translation Studies, dei discorsi che le accompagnano e delle loro specifiche storie, con l’obiettivo di stimolare nuovi modelli teorici e metodologici. Nonostante questi sviluppi, la marginalità e la scarsa visibilità della ricerca traduttologica in contesti africani nel dibattito globale sulla traduzione evidenziano i limiti ancora presenti nel processo di internazionalizzazione del campo. Tali considerazioni tuttavia chiamano in causa, da un lato, la stessa rilevanza della visibilità nei circuiti accademici internazionali e, di conseguenza, la perdurante dicotomia tra centri e periferie teorizzata nella world literature, nella letteratura comparata e negli studi sulla traduzione; e dall’altro, evidenziano il concetto del ‘non visto’, ovvero la possibilità che gli scambi tra lingue e letterature si realizzino in spazi e attraverso media spesso non considerati tradizionali e, di conseguenza, trascurati dalle narrazioni accademiche canoniche (Talento e Adejunmobi 2025: 1-2). Resta indubbio che un maggiore coinvolgimento della ricerca traduttologica in contesti africani nel dibattito internazionale permetterebbe di instaurare una relazione dialogica reciprocamente arricchente, nonché ridefinire le narrazioni canoniche che ancora strutturano i Translation Studies contemporanei.

Una delle aree indispensabili per promuovere una maggiore inclusività all’interno dei Translation Studies è rappresentata dalla ricerca storica e storiografica. Come sottolinea Roig-Sanz (2022: 144), vi è “il bisogno urgente di scrivere una storia della traduzione decentrata”,[1] capace di restituire visibilità alle molteplici traiettorie della traduzione al di fuori dell’asse eurocentrico. Se, come evidenziano Kobus Marais e Carmen Delgado Luchner (2020: 2) gli studi sulla traduzione nel continente privilegiano la formazione professionale rispetto alla ricerca in molte delle sue istituzioni, la ricerca storica sulle pratiche traduttive e interpretative nel contesto africano è ancora più marginale. Gli studi storici sulla traduzione di Charles Atangana Nama, in particolare nel contesto camerunense, hanno dato visibilità all’agency dei traduttori e interpreti africani, mettendo in luce la rilevanza storica della pratica e confutando così “il mito che la traduzione e soprattutto l’interpretazione in Africa siano iniziati con l’avvento dell’imperialismo”[2] (Nama 1993: 414). La ricerca storica sulla traduzione (nel suo senso più ampio) nel contesto precoloniale resta ancora largamente inesplorata e potrebbe offrire un contributo significativo all’arricchimento del dibattito internazionale sulla traduzione. Nel contesto sudafricano, gli studi di Olsen (2008) e Botha (2020) hanno offerto un impulso fondamentale alla ricostruzione storica della traduzione. Attingendo a (auto)biografie, raccolte di lettere, storie letterarie, storie delle missioni e storie delle lingue, Olsen (2008) offre numerosi ritratti di traduttori e interpreti e ricostruisce un catalogo delle traduzioni effettuate tra il 1652 e il 1860, fornendo una risorsa inestimabile per i ricercatori di storia della traduzione. Botha (2017) propone un’interpretazione sociologica della storia della traduzione in Sudafrica, dal XVII secolo ai giorni nostri, che evidenzia il ruolo della traduzione in dinamiche di potere e ideologiche. Il suo studio include una vasta gamma di lingue, tra cui Xhosa, Tswana, Sotho meridionale, Zulu, lingue khoisan e Afrikaans (cfr. anche Botha e Beukes 2019). In Storia della letteratura etiopica (1961), Enrico Cerulli ha analizzato lo sviluppo della letteratura etiope alla luce delle influenze ricevute da networks religiosi, culturali e letterari. Tuttavia, nonostante la ricchezza delle tradizioni orali e scritte e delle attività traduttive, il Corno d’Africa è scarsamente rappresentato negli studi sulla traduzione. Da citare lo studio di Elena Di Giovanni e Chelati Uoldelul Dirar (2015) che esplora le attività missionarie cristiane in Eritrea ed Etiopia, nei periodi precoloniale e coloniale, analizzando l’impatto della traduzione nel “modellare e rimodellare culture, identità e relazioni sociali” (2015: 52).[3] Nel suo saggio “Translation traditions in Angola”, Riikka Halme-Berneking (2019) ha invece gettato luce su una regione finora poco studiata nell’ambito della traduzione.

Oltre alle storie traduttive regionali, la ricerca storica sulla traduzione in Africa ha prodotto anche studi tematici, come quelli sulla storia delle traduzioni shakespeariane, che hanno generato un corpus significativo di ricerche in Sudafrica, o gli studi sulla storia del libro, che hanno analizzato le traduzioni di opere come Alice nel Paese delle Meraviglie,[4] Pinocchio[5] e The Pilgrim’s Progress.[6]

Nel presente contributo, mi propongo di delineare una ricostruzione storica della traduzione letteraria in swahili. Protesa verso l’Oceano Indiano e strategicamente collegata all’interno, la costa swahili è stata da sempre un centro nevralgico di forze regionali, transregionali, nazionali e transnazionali. Il commercio, le migrazioni, gli interessi politici, le dominazioni coloniali e poi la lotta per la liberazione e la collaborazione transnazionale non solo hanno plasmato l’assetto socio-politico di questa regione geografica, ma hanno anche stimolato complessi trasferimenti letterari. Gli studi sulla traduzione in swahili costituiscono un campo accademico relativamente giovane, ma pubblicazioni recenti, iniziative editoriali e conferenze specializzate testimoniano un crescente interesse per questa area di ricerca.

Il presente panorama storico della letteratura tradotta in swahili si articola su più livelli. Un primo livello è quello dello studio dei flussi di traduzione ricavati dal “Catalogo di testi letterari tradotti in Swahili nel periodo 1663-2024”.[7] Sebbene non esaustivo, il catalogo funge da “framing device” (Pym 1998: 40) che consente di collocare le singole traduzioni nel contesto di altre traduzioni. Ciò consente inoltre di delineare una prima mappa dei generi testuali, delle lingue di partenza, degli autori e dei traduttori coinvolti, di osservare l’incidenza di eventi storici o sociali sul campo letterario, nonché di esaminare le logiche di inclusione o esclusione che governano i trasferimenti letterari. Un secondo livello è l’individuazione di macroperiodi utili a orientare l’analisi storica. Consapevole del carattere convenzionale e arbitrario di ogni periodizzazione, tali macroperiodi sono da considerare come “costituiti da punti, non da linee continue”[8] (Rizzi et al. 2019: 73). Un terzo livello prende in esame gli elementi paratestuali (Genette 1987) ed extratestuali (Tahir-Gürçağlar 2002: 44), ossia tutti quei dispositivi che contribuiscono a creare il valore e il senso di un’opera (Bourdieu 1996: 171). L’analisi di tali elementi consente di identificare le funzioni che la traduzione (presumibilmente) assume in determinati contesti, nonché le forme di (auto)rappresentazione della traduzione come pratica e come prodotto, le aspettative concernenti la traduzione, le condizioni materiali del lavoro traduttivo, eventuali connessioni o disconnessioni con pratiche non traduttive e il pubblico di riferimento. Un ultimo livello comprende un focus sui mediatori (traduttori, editori, associazioni, istituzioni) e l’analisi della loro pratica traduttiva all’intersezione tra campi diversi. L’analisi degli agenti coinvolti nei traffici letterari richiede dunque una contestualizzazione che tenga conto delle specificità geografiche e temporali, al fine di comprendere lo stato del campo letterario e i suoi principi organizzativi alla luce delle sue interrelazioni (e conflitti) con altri campi adiacenti. In questo modo, la storia della traduzione in swahili è analizzata come fenomeno collettivo di produzione culturale, una pratica socialmente costituita dalle connessioni o conflitti tra una vasta rete di mediatori, istituzioni e pratiche discorsive che riflettono dinamiche di potere.  

2. La traduzione letteraria nello spazio letterario swahili pre-novecento

Le rotte commerciali e i circuiti islamici dell’Oceano Indiano, in cui la costa swahili era strategicamente integrata, facilitavano non solo il passaggio di preziose merci di scambio e la mobilità di personalità religiose, ma diveniva un canale di circolazione di lingue e tradizioni letterarie ad esse associate. Le attività di traduzione sono state, dunque, da sempre una componente essenziale della multilingue e cosmopolita costa swahili.

La traduzione ha avuto un ruolo importante nella formazione di un corpus letterario orale swahili precedente al XX secolo che incorporava favole e racconti provenienti da una vasta area dell’Oceano Indiano. Questi racconti trasmessi oralmente, probabilmente per secoli, vennero poi raccolti alla fine del XIX secolo da missionari e linguisti europei come Edward Steere, Carl Gotthilf Büttner, e Carl Velten, e usati per sostenere l’insegnamento delle lingue africane nelle cattedre appena fondate nel continente europeo. Un numero significativo di questi racconti raccolti consiste nel trasferimento di narrazioni arabe o presenta motivi e influenze persiane, indiane, turche e persino aramaiche, spesso mediate dalla traduzione araba (Hofmann 1969: 28). Tra le narrazioni che hanno maggiormente plasmato il repertorio orale swahili nel XIX secolo figurano le storie del ciclo sanscrito del Pañcatantra e de Le mille e una notte. I racconti indiani giunsero in forma scritta sulla costa swahili attraverso la traduzione araba Kitāb Kalīla wa Dimna [Libro di Kalila e Dimna], realizzata da ʿAbd Allāh ibn al-Muqaffaʿ a partire dalla traduzione persiana dell’originale sanscrito (Bertoncini Zúbková et al. 2009: 17). Sebbene non sia noto quando Le mille e una notte siano state introdotte nella regione, le edizioni arabe erano ampiamente disponibili almeno dal 1835 (Geider 2007: 196), nella versione Bulaq del Cairo, e sono divenute parte integrante del mondo swahilofono. L’assimilazione di narrazioni provenienti dal Medio Oriente e dal subcontinente indiano avveniva spesso attraverso un processo di adattamento al contesto est africano. Ciononostante, il transfer letterario favorì l’adozione di temi, motivi e strutture narrative nel corpus della letteratura swahili. Ad esempio, accanto agli animali antropomorfizzati tipici dei racconti bantu, comparvero animali stilizzati o mistici. Inoltre, figure come sultani, visir o beduini iniziarono a popolare le narrazioni orali swahili (Geider 2007: 230), mentre majini (geni) e mashetani (demoni) si affiancarono ai mazimwi, gli orchi della tradizione bantu.

La traduzione letteraria ebbe un ruolo di primo piano non solo nella sfera della tradizione orale swahili, ma anche nello sviluppo di una cultura manoscritta swahili. Alcune delle più antiche testimonianze di un corpus letterario scritto precoloniale in swahili sono traduzioni in forma poetica o poemi presentati come traduzioni, come l’Utendi wa Tambuka [Poema della battaglia di Tabuk] (1728) o l’Hamziyya [Poema in Hamza] (1749). Il XVII, ma soprattutto il XVIII e XIX secolo furono caratterizzati da un crescente impulso religioso islamico derivato dalla riforma sufi e dall’influenza politica omanita che culminò con il trasferimento della capitale omanita a Zanzibar nel 1832. Un aspetto della vivace atmosfera multilingue e cosmopolita della costa swahili, in particolare alla fine del XIX secolo, era la circolazione di manoscritti, riviste, giornali e libri a stampa portati sulla costa swahili dal Medio Oriente (principalmente Ḥaḍramawt e La Mecca), dall’Egitto (Il Cairo) e dall’India (Bombay). Questi materiali non erano accessibili solo ai sultani e alla loro corte, ma anche alle moschee, alle istituzioni educative e ai singoli studiosi (Bang 2014: 131). In questo contesto, membri della classe ulamaa, ossia giudici e teologi islamici e studiosi (spesso collegati con altri centri di studio islamici nell’Oceano Indiano), così come membri di corte, letterati e letterate (spesso provenienti da ricchi lignaggi musulmani), fecero della traduzione letteraria – intesa nel suo senso più ampio – di narrazioni storiche e leggendarie arabe una componente fondamentale della pratica letteraria. Il transfer letterario diede vita a diversi tipi di testo quali poemi epici sulle guerre contro gli infedeli, come Utendi wa Tambuka, Utendi wa Katirifu [Poema di Katirifu] e Utendi wa Mikidadi na Mayasa [Poema di Miqdad e Mayasa]; poemi agiografici come Utendi wa Ayubu [Poema di Giobbe] e Utendi wa Fatuma [Poema di Fatuma]; poemi basati su narrazioni coraniche sulla vita del Profeta, come Ukawafi wa Miraji [Quartina sull’ascensione al cielo]; poemi didattici come Utendi wa Ngamia na Paa [Poema del cammello e della gazzella] e Utendi wa Barasisi [Poema del monaco Barsis]; panegirici in onore del Profeta come Buruda ya Al-Busiri [Burda di al-Busiri] e U Mbali Suadu [Lontana è la felicità]; e testi Maulid, ossia celebrazioni poetiche della nascita del Profeta, come Kitabu Maulidi [Libro della Natività], Maulidi ya Dali [Maulid in –dā] e Maulidi ya Wa [Maulid in –wa].

Di centrale importanza, come si può evincere dall’elenco di testi appena fatto, è che nel contesto swahili le narrazioni arabe venivano trasformate in poesia, in particolare nella forma dell’utendi (pl. tendi)[9] o dell’ukawafi (pl. kawafi)[10]. In altre parole, le narrazioni arabe venivano adattate nella forma che costituiva la principale forma di letteratura scritta swahili fino al XX secolo.[11] Usata per assolvere ad una varietà di funzioni sociali – religiose, storiche e morali – la poesia ha da sempre occupato una posizione dominante all’interno del panorama letterario swahili. Essa è stata (e continua a essere) un mezzo principale per trasmettere valori e visioni del mondo nella cultura swahili, per esercitare il pensiero filosofico e la pratica intellettuale (cfr. Kresse 2007).[12] Il fatto che la traduzione era sinonimo di versificazione è legato anche alle implicazioni sociali del genere poetico all’interno della comunità e quindi anche alla espressione di una particolare identità. La capacità di comporre poesia – o di tradurre in forma poetica – rappresentava infatti un segno (personale e culturale) distintivo della classe dei waungwana, ossia nobili e/o acculturati/eruditi, nella stratificata società swahili dell’epoca (cfr. Talento 2025: 205-209). La traduzione letteraria si realizzava dunque attraverso una forma letteraria che fungeva da simbolo di distinzione sociale.

Oltre alla dimensione di ri-creazione riguardante le forme letterarie, il processo traduttivo stesso era incentrato su una rielaborazione testuale che combinava un’ampia gamma di processi di riscrittura con elementi di scrittura. Certamente alcuni poemi hanno dei testi di partenza tradotti quasi letteralmente. Tra questi rientrano Buruda ya Al-Busiri, una traduzione di al-Kawākibu-d-Durriyya fī madḥi hayri ’l-Bariyya [Le stelle scintillanti in lode del migliore dell’umanità] del famoso Sharafu’d-Dini Al-Busiri; Hamziyya, una traduzione di un altro poema arabo di Al-Busiri, Kasidatu ‘l-Hamziyah fi ‘l-mada’ihi ‘n Nabawiya [Qasida in lode del Profeta Muhammad con rime in hamza]; e U Mbali Suadu, una traduzione del celebre poema arabo Bānat Suʽād [Suʽād è partita] del rinomato poeta egiziano Kaʽb ibn Zuhayr. Tuttavia, la maggior parte dei poemi classici swahili presentati come traduzioni non hanno testi di partenza chiaramente o direttamente identificabili. Questo è il caso, ad esempio, di Utendi wa Ayubu, Utendi wa Katirifu, Utendi wa Mikidadi na Mayasa, Utendi wa Ngamia na Paa e Utendi wa Tambuka per i quali non esistono diretti testi di partenza. Questi poemi swahili possono essere identificati come pseudotraduzioni, ossia testi presentati come traduzioni che sono in realtà nuove composizioni. Spesso il testo di partenza identificato consiste di una fonte parziale dalla quale i compositori swahili hanno tratto il tema generale, con l’intento però di creare un poema ex novo. Utenzi wa Ras ‘l-Ghuli [Poema di Ras al-Ghul] o Utendi wa Barasisi rientrano in questa categoria metaletteraria (cfr. Holmes 1988: 23). In altri casi, sebbene dai poemi swahili non si evinca un riferimento alla traduzione, è molto plausibile che i tendi o i kawafi swahili siano stati elaborati a partire da un insieme di fonti. Ukawafi wa Miraji, ad esempio, fu composto in un’epoca in cui diverse versioni del viaggio del Profeta in paradiso erano disponibili e ampiamente diffuse in prosa. Similmente, alcuni poemi sono invece solo debolmente marcati come traduzioni, come nel caso di Siri li Asirari [Segreto Nascosto], in cui la poetessa osserva “Nasi tumeifupiza” [Noi l’abbiamo abbreviato] (in Dammann 1940: 270). Questo è un caso in cui i testi presentano temi narrativi che “possono essere ricondotti ad antecedenti o ‘tradizioni’ transculturali”[13] (Pym 1998: 60). In altre parole, le pratiche traduttive swahili nel contesto pre-novecentesco mostrano molteplici e talvolta sovrapposte modalità di trasferimento testuale, che mettono in discussione le definizioni tradizionali di traduzione.

Una caratteristica interessante dei tendi e kawafi è la presenza di un elaborato metadiscorso sulle attività di scrivere, narrare e tradurre, ovvero una riflessività testuale che accompagna e permea la narrazione stessa. I poeti descrivono la loro esperienza fisica, intellettuale ed emozionale della traduzione (Talento in corso di stampa), fanno riferimento all’origine del testo, alla loro identità e al loro metodo. Nel dibaji, preambolo, i compositori swahili si rivolgono solitamente ai lettori, informandoli che l’opera è un atto di rinarrazione o ripetizione di fonti arabe preesistenti,[14] o hadithi ya Kiarabu [storia araba]. L’atto di ripetere è enfatizzato dall’uso di verbi come kudhukuri[15] [ricordare, ripetere], kuhadithiya[16] [narrare, recitare], kukhubiri[17] [annunciare, riferire], o dal riportare che il testo di partenza sia stato riprodotto dall’inizio [awali, mwanzo] alla fine [akheri, anche ahari, aheri, ahiri], conferendo al testo tradotto la qualità di essere timamu[18] [completo] e dando al lettore/ascoltatore[19] la certezza che nessuna parola sia andata persa o sia stata trascurata nel trasferimento dall’arabo allo swahili: Pasi neno kulisaza [Senza trascurare una parola].[20] La traduzione è descritta come qualcosa di desiderato, amato (kuhibu, kupenda) o ambito (kutamani), e che infine porta soddisfazione personale (Haona kunipendeza,[21] ‘Provai appagamento’). La trasformazione del genere letterario e quindi dell’atto della traduzione come versificazione è spesso molto esplicito nei poemi classici swahili dove la traduzione è descritta, ad esempio, con verbi come kunudhumu [scrivere in versi, scrivere poesia] o kudiriji [comporre versi].[22] L’atto poetico era inoltre concepito e descritto nella metanarrazione come reciprocamente intercambiabile con quello dell’atto traduttivo, che nel contesto swahili non aveva connotazione subordinata (Talento in corso di stampa). La reciprocità tra poetare e tradurre è strettamente collegata al concetto di creatività letteraria nel contesto swahili che si basava anche sull’idea di continuità letteraria, ossia sulla la capacità di conoscere, preservare e riprodurre in maniera creativa opere e autori preesistenti (Talento 2025: 196-197). I commenti metatestuali inseriti nei tendi e kawafi costituiscono delle risorse importanti per riflettere sul ruolo del traduttore – e la manifestazione intenzionale della sua visibilità – sul concetto di creatività nella traduzione, sulla nozione di originalità letteraria, nonché sulla relazione tra testi di partenza e di arrivo, e tra forme e generi nella traduzione.

3. La traduzione letteraria durante l'attività missionaria e il dominio coloniale

L’instaurarsi delle missioni sulla costa swahili a metà Ottocento non comportò solo il complesso processo di traduzione delle Scritture ma anche l’introduzione della letteratura europea nel contesto della Universities’ Mission to Central Africa (UMCA). Alla fine del XIX secolo, Arthur Cornwallis Madan, missionario anglicano e linguista dedito alla compilazione di dizionari, tradusse testi di storia ecclesiastica e storia secolare, oltre a brani di Dante, testi buddisti e dialoghi di Socrate (Hellier 1940: 252). Edward Steere, missionario e successivamente vescovo anglicano a Zanzibar, esercitò un’influenza particolarmente significativa nel campo della traduzione. Giunto in Africa orientale nel 1864, lavorò presso la scuola per i figli degli schiavi liberati all’interno della UMCA. Disponeva di una piccola attrezzatura per stampare (Hellier 1940: 251), che utilizzò per diffondere le sue traduzioni tra gli ex schiavi istruiti dai missionari. La traduzione costituiva la sua principale preoccupazione. Oltre a tradurre le Scritture, Steere introdusse Shakespeare e la mitologia greca attraverso versioni abbreviate e adattate per il contesto missionario. Nel 1867 tradusse Tales from Shakespeare di Charles e Mary Lamb con il titolo Hadithi za Kiingereza [Racconti inglesi], e nel 1880 tradusse le favole di Esopo come Hadithi za Esopo [Favole di Esopo]. Mambo na Hadithi [Storie e racconti] (1884) è una raccolta di 55 testi che spaziano dalla storia secolare e cristiana alla letteratura occidentale. Vi si trovano racconti sulla Torre di Babele, sull’imperatore Dario, su Sparta e Atene, su Ulisse, Socrate, Romolo e Remo e San Pietro. Nel 1889, Steere tradusse anche The Heroes, or Greek Fairy Tales for my Children di Charles Kingsley con il titolo Mashujaa: Hadithi za Wayonani [Eroi: Racconti dei Greci].

Le traduzioni missionarie e coloniali coesistevano con le pratiche traduttive locali come sfere distinte di produzione culturale, fino a quando le politiche linguistiche ed educative coloniali non prevalsero, trasformando profondamente la struttura stessa dello spazio letterario swahili.

Nella Deutsch-Ostafrika (Africa Orientale Tedesca), lo swahili era la lingua dei livelli inferiori del sistema educativo e amministrativo. Nonostante la politica linguistica del sistema educativo coloniale e il prolifico processo di traduzione di racconti, favole e poesie religiose swahili in tedesco avviato in Germania,[23] sul suolo africano furono tradotti pochissimi testi dal tedesco allo swahili. Alcuni racconti tedeschi tradotti apparvero nel giornale Kiongozi [Leader], all’interno della rubrica Baraza [Consiglio][24], dedicata alle storie e ai racconti. Tra questi figurano Wilhelm Tell,[25] Hänsel na Gretel,[26] Herzog Heinrich wa Braunschweig na simba yake[27] [Il duca Heinrich di Braunschweig e il suo leone] e Schneewittchen[28] [Biancaneve].

Successivamente, l’attività di traduzione letteraria in swahili si intensificò dopo che i britannici assunsero l’amministrazione del Tanganica dai tedeschi, e soprattutto dopo la creazione dell’Inter-Territorial Language Committee (ITLC)[29] nel 1930. Il Comitato fu istituito con l’obiettivo di standardizzare la lingua swahili per il suo utilizzo in tutta l’Africa orientale. Oltre alla preparazione di libri di testo, la traduzione di opere letterarie straniere era considerata un mezzo per promuovere tale standardizzazione (Report 1925). Inizialmente, le traduzioni venivano diffuse tramite giornali come Mambo Leo [Attualità], pubblicata mensilmente dal Dipartimento dell’Educazione del Tanganica a partire dal 1923. Dal 1928, le traduzioni iniziarono ad apparire anche in formato libro, generalmente pubblicate nel Regno Unito da editori come Sheldon Press, Macmillan, Evans, Oxford e Longman. Le traduzioni prodotte dall’ITLC venivano inserite come materiale di lettura nei curricula scolastici della colonia, e quindi all’interno di quello che Pierre Bourdieu definiva una potente istituzione consacrante (Bourdieu 1993: 21), e si rivolgevano, come osserva Frederick Johnson (1929b: v) nell’introduzione a Mashimo ya Mfalme Sulemani [Le miniere del re Salomone], a “watu wasomao Kiswahili” [coloro che studiano lo swahili].

I titoli selezionati per la traduzione durante gli anni di attività dell’ITLC erano per lo più classici scolastici europei dell’epoca e comprendevano raccolte di racconti, romanzi e opere teatrali. La lingua di origine era solitamente l’inglese, con testi di autori come Rider Haggard, Jonathan Swift, Rudyard Kipling, Robert Louis Stevenson, Daniel Defoe, Lewis Carroll, Joel Chandler Harris, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow e altri. Vi era una presenza ridotta di francese (ad esempio, Tabibu asiyependa utabibu, una traduzione di Le Médecin malgré lui di Molière, e Hadithi ya Zadig, la traduzione di Zadig, ou La destinée di Voltaire, che però fu tradotta dalla versione inglese), di italiano (Mambo yaliyompata Pynokio, una traduzione de Le avventure di Pinocchio: Storia di un burattino di Carlo Collodi) e di arabo (come nel caso di Le mille e una notte).[30] Il traduttore più prolifico del periodo coloniale britannico fu Frederick Johnson, primo segretario dell’ITLC e senior clerck nel Dipartimento dell’Educazione. Tra il 1927 e il 1935, Johnson tradusse Treasure Island, King Solomon’s Mines, The Jungle Book, Tales of Uncle Remus, Gulliver’s Travels, Robinson Crusoe, The Song of Hiawatha e Allan Quatermain. Durante la fase coloniale i traduttori erano solitamente amministratori coloniali (come Alexander Morrison, James William Murison) o missionari (come Serafino Bella Eros). Le uniche donne che parteciparono alle attività di traduzione furono, stando alle informazioni in mio possesso, due. Virginia Ermyntrude St. Lo De Malet Conan-Davies (figlia di un amministratore coloniale) che tradusse, adattandolo in un contesto assolutamente est africano, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland come Elisi katika nchi ya ajabu (1940). Isabelle Fremont anche tradusse storie per bambini come Talking Woman, Mone Fès Visits e Beasts and Birds of Africa, rispettivamente come Bibi msemi (1940), Mazungumzo Ya Mone Fe (1948) e Wanyama na ndege wa Afrika (1949). Poiché l’organizzazione della (ri)produzione era sostanzialmente sotto il controllo dell’ITLC, un elemento dell’apparato coloniale, la partecipazione dei traduttori africani veniva filtrata tra i membri che gravitavano attorno al sistema coloniale. Tuttavia, tale partecipazione era limitata a, o registrata come, “assistenza”. Questo fu il caso di Edwin Brenn, un africano che lavorava nella missione e come impiegato senior nel Dipartimento dell’Educazione (Iliffe 1979: 266), che collaborò con Frederick Johnson nelle traduzioni di Kisiwa chenye Hazina, Mashimo ya Mfalme Sulemani e Hadithi ya Hiawatha, e il cui contributo venne riconosciuto da Johnson attraverso la formula kwa msaada wa [con l’aiuto di]. In altri casi, tali contributi venivano destinati all’oblio. E. Lewis, del Dipartimento dell’Educazione, partecipò alla traduzione di Treasure Island, serializzato nel giornale Mambo Leo nel 1927. Quando il testo fu pubblicato come libro due anni dopo, il nome di Lewis venne omesso, sebbene i testi nella rivista e nel libro fossero identici.

Alcuni cambiamenti nel campo della traduzione si verificarono a partire dal 1946, quando il Comitato Linguistico fu aperto alla partecipazione effettiva degli africani (Mulokozi 2006: 15). Di conseguenza, i traduttori swahili ebbero maggiore libertà nelle attività di traduzione, non solo come assistenti.[31] Questo cambiamento coincide con una diminuzione della funzione scolastica delle traduzioni swahili. La traduzione nel 1950 di Zadig di Voltaire da parte di Abdulla M. Abubakr, o la traduzione del Rubaiyat di Omar Khayyam come Omar Khayyam kwa Kiswahili (1952) a cura del padre della letteratura moderna swahili Shaaban Robert, ad esempio, si rivolgono essenzialmente ad un pubblico adulto. E nel caso della traduzione di Shaaban, esse appartengono a un genere, la poesia, che, come dirò a breve, l’establishment britannico aveva trascurato. È proprio in questi anni che le attività editoriali vennero trasferite in Africa Orientale, soprattutto a Nairobi, dopo l’istituzione dell’East African Literature Bureau nel 1948.

Le traduzioni realizzate all’interno dell’ITLC hanno giocato un ruolo fondamentale a vari livelli. All’interno del sistema educativo, le traduzioni erano destinate a costruire non solo un canone linguistico, e quindi a legittimare un certo tipo di swahili scelto da agenti esterni, ma anche un canone letterario, dettando i criteri attraverso cui esperire un’opera letteraria. Prima del periodo coloniale, la letteratura swahili aveva la funzione di impartire istruzione religiosa (tendi), moralizzare (tendi e kisa) e registrare eventi storici (khabari). Le traduzioni dell’ITLC venivano spesso esaltate per il loro valore ricreativo e la loro bellezza (uzuri) e quindi la loro capacità di essere attraenti (kupendeza) o di rallegrare (kufurahisha (moyo)). In altre parole, la concezione swahili della letteratura basata su un ideale di istruzione veniva spostata su un ideale di intrattenimento. Inoltre, le traduzioni dell’ITLC ebbero un forte impatto sullo spazio letterario swahili poiché introdussero il romanzo, il teatro e il verso libero (Mazrui and Shariff 1994: 94). A un altro livello le traduzioni dell’ITLC hanno direttamente o indirettamente contribuito al consolidamento dei regimi coloniali nell’Africa Orientale, diventando uno spazio testuale che rifletteva le disuguaglianze persistenti del sistema coloniale e che conteneva una certa narrativa di dominazione. Testi come King Solomon’s Mines, che narra di un’esplorazione in un contesto imperialista e metaforizza l’espansione britannica, e The Song of Hiawatha, un testo dove l’eroe principale si sottomette ai bianchi appena arrivati lasciandogli in custodia il suo popolo, creavano paralleli tra il contesto fittizio e quello reale, riflettendo e normalizzando così le gerarchie sociali e culturali. Inoltre, i criteri di esclusione hanno avuto una funzione cruciale nel rifrangere le funzioni ideologiche della traduzione. La ricca tradizione poetica della letteratura swahili e il ruolo della poesia nella società erano noti all’intellighèntsia tedesca e poi britannica: la raccolta, translitterazione e traduzione della poesia swahili in tedesco e inglese furono attività fondamentali per missionari, linguisti ed etnografi. Ciononostante, la traduzione di poesia in swahili nel periodo coloniale fu quasi del tutto assente, sommersa dalla traduzione di prosa. L’unico testo poetico tradotto in questo periodo, The Song of Hiawatha di Longfellow, subì un cambiamento di genere e fu reso come un hadithi, un riassunto in prosa. Escludendo la poesia, l’ITLC ha posto in oblio un genere che incarnava la raffinatezza e l’elaborazione della lingua e l’antichità della letteratura swahili, omettendolo sia dalla pratica traduttiva che dai programmi scolastici. Questo silenzio sulla traduzione di poesia va letto alla luce del discorso sulla traduzione praticata durante il dominio britannico che ha creato la percezione che la letteratura swahili mancasse del genere prosaico, o che la prosa swahili avesse poco o nessun valore intellettuale e nessuna utilità, ragion per cui l’importazione letteraria doveva essere incoraggiata (TEC 1925: 153). Il discorso britannico sulla traduzione ha inoltre alimentato l’immagine della lingua swahili come incapace di incarnare la qualità letteraria e l’eleganza stilistica dei testi di partenza, e di non essere qualificata per essere veicolo di “high thinking” (Report 1925: 160). Se la traduzione può essere una risorsa per acquisire capitale simbolico e letterario, nel contesto coloniale swahili essa è stata uno strumento per addurre la (falsa) natura difettosa della lingua e della letteratura di destinazione e quindi ha agito come strumento di deconsecration (Talento 2017).

4. La traduzione letteraria all’alba delle indipendenze

Con le indipendenze degli anni sessanta i flussi di traduzione in tutta la regione est africana swahilofona subirono cambiamenti significativi in termini di direzionalità, tipi di testi e i tipi di agenti coinvolti. Dopo la fine del dominio britannico, la traduzione cessò di essere prerogativa di un piccolo gruppo di amministratori coloniali e di pochi africani che avevano accesso all’alfabetizzazione in inglese. Infatti, la presenza di non africani nel campo intellettuale diminuì drasticamente. Tuttavia, la ridotta presenza di traduttrici rimase una costante anche in questa fase, con Bibi Thureya Kassim, una prolifica traduttrice dal russo, tra le poche. Le pratiche di traduzione prima e durante il periodo coloniale offrivano una certa coerenza riguardo ai tipi di testi che potevano entrare nello spazio letterario swahili (testi afferenti a storie e leggende arabo-islamiche durante la fase precoloniale e testi di prosa durante l’era coloniale). La fase successiva alle indipendenze invece, è caratterizzata da una varietà di tipi di testi, che spaziano dalla prosa al dramma e alla poesia, includendo romanzi gialli, satira o il genere (auto)biografico. [32]

In Tanzania (all’epoca Tanganica), dove, a differenza del Kenya, venne attuata una politica linguistica rigorosa volta a “swahilizzare” la sfera nazionale, la traduzione divenne indissolubilmente legata al più ampio processo di costruzione nazionale – basato sull’ideologia socialista dell’ujamaa[33] concepita dal presidente Julius Kambarage Nyerere – che si affidava anche ad un uso particolare delle risorse culturali. In questo scenario, la traduzione letteraria non era solo considerata essenziale per sostenere la politica linguistica di swahilizzazione e quella educativa volta a valorizzare le risorse culturali endogene, ma anche per supportare la propaganda politica di matrice socialista. La traduzione divenne una pratica altamente politicizzata e si legò inestricabilmente a concetti di resistenza all’imperialismo, di adesione a una visione panafricana, di valorizzazione delle culture locali e di legittimazione dello swahili come lingua nazionale e letteraria (Talento 2021, cap. 5).[34] Valori che ogni cittadino era chiamato a promuovere. La promozione di una sfera educativa autosufficiente era legata a un’altra impresa: l’ampliamento del corpus di testi in swahili. In un discorso pronunciato durante la Tanzania Books Week del 1967, intitolato “Il ruolo dei libri in swahili negli sforzi di costruzione nazionale”, il promotore dello swahili Samuel Mushi (1968: 5–7) invitò i “singoli cittadini” a “venire in aiuto del governo”[35] nella produzione di libri in swahili per sostenere l’esperimento dell’Elimu ya Kujitegemea [Istruzione autosufficiente] promosso da Nyerere. L’appello di Mushi per un’autosufficienza letteraria, combinata con l’uso della traduzione, trovò eco in un più ampio invito collettivo alla traduzione. George Mhina (1970: 196) – scrittore, studioso di swahili, direttore dell’Institute of Kiswahili Research (dal 1969) e presidente del BAKITA, il Consiglio Nazionale dello Swahili (dalla fine degli anni settanta) – difese l’intensificazione del lavoro di traduzione in diversi ambiti, definendola “un’attività essenziale” per supportare “i piani di ulteriore sviluppo dello swahili”. Come Pascale Casanova (2004: 191) sottolinea, nello stadio formativo di uno spazio politico la complicità tra quest’ultimo e lo spazio letterario e intellettuale è spesso un elemento fondante e autofondativo, soprattutto in regimi centralizzati come quello di Nyerere. Nella Tanzania socialista, la traduzione era considerata un dovere comune del buon nazionalista, il traduttore patriottico che contribuiva in questo modo alla costruzione intellettuale della nazione (Talento 2022: 340-341).

In generale, i programmi di alfabetizzazione e l’impegno per espandere il pubblico di lettori attraverso edizioni in larga tiratura (Bgoya 2008: 89) influenzarono il ritmo degli scambi letterari, con un aumento delle collane che includevano titoli tradotti. Il Kenya ebbe un ruolo di primo piano nel campo editoriale degli anni settanta: la filiale di Nairobi dell’East African Educational Publishers promosse la serie Waandishi wa Kiafrika [Scrittori africani]; nel 1975, la East African Publishing House di Nairobi pubblicò il primo volume della serie Washairi wa Afrika [Poeti africani], ossia una traduzione di When Bullets Begin to Flower: Poems of Resistance from Angola, Mozambique and Guinea (1972) curato da Margaret Dickinson. La Tanzania Publishing House di Dar es Salaam avviò invece la serie Michezo ya Kuigiza [Dramma], che includeva la traduzione di Tartuffe ou l’Imposteur (Mnafiki) di Molière. Altre serie erano destinate alla letteratura per bambini, sia africana che proveniente dall’Unione Sovietica. Ad esempio, Hadithi za Kikwetu [Racconti locali] fu pubblicato dalla East African Publishing House di Nairobi, in collaborazione con Phoenix Publishers, o Jamii ya Vitabu vya Hekaya Fupi za Kisoviet [Serie di libri di racconti brevi sovietici], pubblicato dal Moscow Publishing Department for Foreign Languages e distribuito in Tanzania.

Tre principali correnti di traduzione verso lo swahili possono essere individuate dagli anni ‘60. La prima corrente riguarda la traduzione dei classici europei. La seconda interessa la traduzione della letteratura proveniente da altri paesi africani, o da scrittori africani che vivono nella diaspora. La terza corrente è la traduzione della letteratura proveniente dalla Russia e dalla Cina.

Nel primo decennio dopo l’indipendenza della Tanzania (1962-1972), la traduzione di autori classici europei come Platone, Shakespeare, Molière e Conrad fu un’attività centrale tra i leader politici e gli intellettuali tanzaniani, come parte del progetto di costruzione della nazione. Tra i protagonisti di questo progetto vi erano Nyerere e Samuel M. Mushi, promotore dello swahili presso il Ministero dello Sviluppo Comunitario e della Cultura Nazionale. Altri esponenti di rilievo furono Joseph R. Kotta, funzionario tanzaniano presso le Nazioni Unite, e Lugo Taguaba, diplomatico dell’Ambasciata della Tanzania a Parigi. Shakespeare fu una delle figure centrali nella traduzione dei classici in swahili. Nel 1963, Nyerere tradusse Julius Caesar con il titolo Julius Caezar, e lo ritradusse nel 1969 come Juliasi Kaizari. Nello stesso anno, tradusse The Merchant of Venice come Mabepari wa Venisi [I capitalisti di Venezia]. Samuel Mushi contribuì con la sua traduzione di Macbeth nel 1968 con il titolo Makbeth, seguita nel 1969 da quella di The Tempest, intitolata Tufani. In un momento in cui la Tanzania aveva eletto lo swahili come lingua nazionale ma al tempo stesso doveva scontrarsi con il pregiudizio secondo cui lo swahili non fosse in grado di rispondere alle reali esigenze di una lingua nazionale e non potesse costituire un’alternativa valida all’inglese, la traduzione letteraria forniva un mezzo culturale e simbolico per legittimare lo swahili dimostrando che esso potesse divenire veicolo di cultura alta. La decisione di tradurre in swahili poteva dunque essere intesa come un atto politico e una strategia per promuovere la politica linguistica, confutando al contempo l’idea dello swahili come mezzo espressivo limitato.[36] Nyerere (1969: vii), infatti, descrisse la sua seconda traduzione di Julius Caesar come una risposta a:

watu wasiojua Kiswahili, ambao wanafikiri kuwa Kiswahili si lugha pana ya kutosha kueleza mawazo makubwa au ufasaha safi bila kuazima mno maneno mapya ya kigeni.

[coloro che non conoscono lo swahili e pensano che questa lingua non sia abbastanza ampia per esprimere pensieri profondi o eleganza stilistica senza ricorrere in modo eccessivo a prestiti linguistici]

Anche in Kenya emerse un interesse per la traduzione delle opere di Shakespeare. Francis Warwick, cittadino britannico, adattò in forma poetica Macbeth con il titolo Mabruk (1970) e The Merchant of Venice come Mlariba [Usuraio] (1971), trasformandole e trasportandole in un contesto costiero dell’Africa orientale. Le traduzioni shakespeariane in swahili non furono solo i primi testi ad essere tradotti dopo le indipendenze ma ebbero anche un profondo effetto nel panorama letterario tanzaniano e kenyota. Negli anni della revisione e localizzazione dei programmi scolastici e universitari sia in Tanzania che in Kenya, le traduzioni shakespeariane in swahili furono integrate nei programmi di letteratura in swahili in Tanzania, rappresentando un esempio significativo di consacrazione culturale (Bourdieu 1993: 121). In Kenya, sebbene vennero inizialmente considerate come un retaggio dell’egemonia coloniale, le opere di Shakespeare furono successivamente reintegrate nei programmi educativi kenioti, specialmente sotto il governo di Daniel Arap Moi, e rimasero una presenza significativa per molti anni.[37]

Oltre a Shakespeare, altri classici della letteratura occidentale e mondiale furono tradotti in swahili, come Heart of Darkness di Joseph Conrad,[38] Tartuffe ou l’Imposteur di Molière,[39] The Old Man and the Sea di Ernest Hemingway,[40] The Prophet di Kahlil Gibran,[41] e Mâhī-ye Sīyāh-e Kūchūlū (Il pesciolino nero) di Samad Behrangi, tradotto dal più rinomato drammaturgo swahili Ebrahim Hussein come Samaki mdogo mweusi (1981). In Kenya, altre traduzioni di rilievo in swahili includevano Animal Farm di George Orwell, tradotto dal tanzaniano Fortunatus Kawegere come Shamba la Wanyama (1967); Il Principe di Niccolò Machiavelli, tradotto da Fred Kamoga e Ralph Tanner come Mtawala (1968) e Der gute Mensch von Sezuan di Bertolt Brecht, tradotto da Abedi Shepardson e Hassan Marshad in Kimvita, lo swahili di Mombasa, come Mtu Mzuri wa Setzuan (1980).

La traduzione di Orwell merita una breve diversione. La traduzione fu sponsorizzata dallo United States Information Service durante la Guerra Fredda. Kawegere adattò il setting in un contesto tanzaniano cancellando ogni riferimento storico, culturale e linguistico inglese e usando una terminologia vicina alla retorica di Nyerere (Aiello Traore 2013: 21). Mentre in Kenya la traduzione fu acclamata per il suo messaggio pro-capitalista, in Tanzania valse a Kawegere una visita della polizia, che lo interrogò sulle sue intenzioni nel tradurre un testo simile. Come lui stesso dichiarò in un’intervista, “molti leader del governo non la gradirono” (in Gikambi 2013).

Negli anni Ottanta, la traduzione dei classici in swahili iniziò a diminuire, poiché l’attenzione si spostò sulla traduzione della letteratura africana, segnando un cambiamento nelle priorità politiche e culturali. Questo flusso di traduzione rifletteva il più ampio progetto di “africanizzare l’ambiente culturale e intellettuale”[42] (Madumulla et al. 1999: 318) nei paesi dell’Africa orientale appena indipendenti. Bisogna dire che i traduttori tanzaniani furono meno coinvolti nella traduzione di altre letterature africane rispetto ai traduttori kenioti. In Kenya, le traduzioni delle opere di autori africani di rilievo includono quelle di Cyprian Ekwensi, Ayi Kwei Armah, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, Chinua Achebe, Bediako Asare, Wole Soyinka, Thomas Mofolo, Ferdinand Oyono, e Obotunde Ijimere.^[43] Nel frattempo, la Tanzania ha svolto un ruolo centrale nell’arricchire la scena letteraria attraverso l’importazione di opere di autori come Okot p’Bitek (tradotto dal secretary press di Nyerere, Paul Sozigwa), Sembene Ousmane tradotto da Cecil Maganga^[44] e dalla rinomata attrice, drammaturga, e storica del teatro Amandina Lihamba che fece della sua traduzione di Le Mandat in Hawala ya fedha [Il vaglia] (1984) – trasposto in un contesto tanzaniano – una sottile epitome delle disillusioni verso le politiche del partito di Nyerere.

Inoltre, anche gli scrittori dell’Africa orientale che inizialmente scrivevano in inglese furono tradotti in swahili. Questo è il caso di Peter Palangyo, Grace Ogot, una scrittrice keniota nota per le sue opere in inglese e Luo,[45] e dello scrittore tanzaniano William E. Mkufya, che tradusse il suo stesso romanzo The Wicked Walk (1977) in swahili come Kizazi Hiki nel 1980 – uno dei pochi casi di auto-traduzione in swahili.

Verso la fine degli anni settanta e negli anni ottanta, la traduzione delle opere letterarie africane in swahili rallentò a favore delle traduzioni provenienti dalla Russia e dalla Cina. La traduzione di tali opere in swahili fu particolarmente rilevante in Tanzania,  in linea con l’implementazione dell’ideologia socialista dell’ujamaa, che orientò il panorama politico della Tanzania negli anni Settanta e Ottanta. [46]

Le traduzioni letterarie dal blocco sovietico iniziarono ad apparire già nel 1962, quando Sudba cheloveka (Destiny of a Man) del premio Nobel Michail Šolochov fu tradotto in swahili da Omar Juma (Ajali ya mwanamume), un prolifico traduttore di letteratura per l’infanzia. Altri classici russi tradotti in questa fase includevano le opere di Lev Tolstoj, Aleksandr Puškin, Nikolaj Vasil’evič Gogol e Maksim Gor’kij.[47] Le traduzioni venivano solitamente realizzate in Unione Sovietica da tanzaniani che studiavano o che lavoravano nelle radio o case editrici sovietiche, come Husein Abdul-Razak, Herman Matemu o Ben Ombuoro; oppure da russi con una buona conoscenza dello swahili, come Vladimir Makarenko (Gromova 2004: 121). Queste traduzioni erano solitamente pubblicate da case editrici sovietiche come Progress Publishers, Novosti e Raduga e spesso inserite in collane, come Maoni ya Urusi (Visioni russe). Dagli anni novanta, la frequenza delle traduzioni dal russo diminuì, ma vi fu una ripresa negli anni duemila, grazie alla creazione del Centro Culturale Russo-Tanzaniano a Dar es Salaam che contribuì a sponsorizzare nuove traduzioni, includendo opere di autori classici russi e racconti popolari (Mazrui 2016: 47-49), anche attraverso il supporto alla Ndanda Mission Press nella traduzione e pubblicazione di tali opere (Reuster-Jahn 2008: 111).

Le traduzioni dalla Cina seguirono una traiettoria simile. Oltre a testi di letteratura politica ed economica, la maggior parte della letteratura tradotta comprendeva letteratura per l’infanzia e racconti popolari, di autori come Kuan Hua, Guo Xu, Huang Cheng e Geng Geng. Queste traduzioni erano spesso pubblicate a Pechino dalla Foreign Languages Press, e da traduttori cinesi come Guanglian Si. Come per le opere sovietiche, molte traduzioni cinesi venivano distribuite attraverso centri culturali, talvolta gratuitamente. Tuttavia, dopo la traduzione di Mùlán Cí (Ballata di Mulan) nel 1986,[48]  la letteratura cinese in traduzione diminuì drasticamente nella scena letteraria swahili. Fino agli anni duemila, in particolare con l’istituzione dell’Istituto Confucio, all’Università di Nairobi, che ha sponsorizzato o supportato la traduzione di opere cinesi. Nel 2016 il centro lanciò la traduzione delle poesie di Jidi Majia, Maneno Ya Moto Kutoka China [Words of Fire from China], pubblicato da Twaweza Communication.

5. La traduzione letteraria dagli anni Novanta

A partire dagli anni Novanta, il ruolo della traduzione letteraria nelle politiche statali si è progressivamente ridotto, mentre i flussi letterari si sono arricchiti di una maggiore diversità nelle fonti e nei generi delle opere tradotte. Sebbene la traduzione letteraria rappresenti ancora una quota minore rispetto alla pubblicazione di manuali scolastici – favoriti per la loro capacità di generare rendimenti economici costanti – diversi fattori, sia locali che globali, hanno contribuito a un rinnovato interesse per la traduzione di opere letterarie in swahili.

A partire dalla metà degli anni Novanta, e in particolare negli anni duemila, si è assistito a un incremento delle traduzioni di classici europei. Un’iniziativa significativa in questa direzione è stata avviata nel 1993 dalla filiale di Macmillan a Nairobi, con la pubblicazione della serie Hadithi za kukumbukwa [Racconti da ricordare]. Questa collana ha incluso traduzioni e, in alcuni casi, ritraduzioni di opere celebri quali The Coral Island di Robert Michael Ballantyne,  Oliver Twist e David Copperfield di Charles Dickens, Gulliver’s Travels di Jonathan Swift, Robinson Crusoe di Daniel Defoe, Treasure Island di Robert Louis Stevenson, Wonder Tales from Greece di Margery Green, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer di Mark Twain,  Le Tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours di Jules Verne e The Adventure of the Speckled Band di Arthur Conan Doyle.[49]

Oltre a questa tendenza, gli anni Novanta hanno segnato una svolta decisiva verso l’internazionalizzazione delle traduzioni letterarie in swahili. Se in passato le principali fonti delle opere tradotte provenivano da paesi come il Regno Unito, gli Stati Uniti, la Russia e la Cina, negli ultimi decenni si è assistito a una crescente diversificazione geografica, riflettendo una volontà di rendere lo swahili una lingua d’accoglienza per la letteratura mondiale. Questo processo si manifesta sia attraverso la traduzione di testi per la prima volta in swahili, sia attraverso la ritraduzione di opere già disponibili, nonché l’introduzione di best seller globali e opere di autori insigniti del Premio Nobel. Esempi significativi di questa internazionalizzazione sono stati le traduzioni di En folkefiende [Un nemico del popolo] di Henrik Ibsen,[50] Kalevala di Elias Lönnrot,[51] Al-Ṭarīq [Per la strade del Cairo] di Naguib Mahfouz,[52] Vernisaž [Vernissage] di Václav Havel,[53] Le Petit Prince di Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,^[54] Parí [Una scommessa] di Anton Čechov,[55] Favole al telefono di Gianni Rodari,[56] The Alchemist di Paulo Coelho,[57] La Repubblica di Platone – l’ultima opera traduttiva di Julius Nyerere, rimasta inedita per oltre venticinque anni dopo la sua morte[58] – e le opere del Premio Nobel Abdulrazak Gurnah: nel 2023 Ida Hadjivayanis, specialista di swahili presso la SOAS, ha tradotto Paradise con il titolo Peponi, e nel 2025 il nuovo romanzo di Gurnah, Theft, è stato pubblicato contemporaneamente alla traduzione swahili di  Hadjivayanis [Dhulma]. Un progetto monumentale è stato realizzato dalla casa editrice Mkuki na Nyota tra il 2004 e il 2016, con la pubblicazione di una nuova traduzione in nove volumi de Le mille e una notte (Masimulizi Kamilifu ya Alfu Lela u Lela au Siku Elfu Moja na Moja), a cura di Hassan Adam, docente per molti anni presso l’Istituto di Lingue Africane dell’Università di Colonia.[59]

Tra i fattori che hanno stimolato questa attività di traduzione, un ruolo fondamentale è stato svolto dagli accademici che hanno portato avanti progetti di traduzione su iniziativa personale, con opere che spaziano dalle commedie drammatiche all’epica storica. Oltre ai già menzionati Ida Hadjivayanis e Hassan Adam, si possono annoverare Emmanuel Mbogo, autore di rinomati testi (Ngoma ya Ng’wanamalundi [Danza di Ng’wanamalundi], Vipuli vya figo [Trapianto di Reni], Watoto wa Mama Ntilie [Bambini di Mama Ntilie]) e professore di Arti Drammatiche e Letteratura presso la Open University della Tanzania, che ha firmato una versione swahili dell’epopea Sundiata, poema epico dei Malinke che racconta la storia dell’eroe e fondatore dell’Impero del Mali Sundiata Keita, nel 2011; o Ayub Mukhwana, professore di sociolinguistica all’Universita di Nairobi, e Iribe Mwangi, presidente del dipartimento di Swahili nella stessa università, che nel 2012 hanno realizzato una versione swahili di Otello.

Un fattore importante è anche coinvolgimento di paesi in cui si parla swahili, precedentemente considerati periferici, come la Repubblica Democratica del Congo. Kalunga Mwela-Ubi, professore di Linguistica bantu e swahili presso l’Université de Lubumbashi et de Kalemie, con il supporto di L. Maliza Mwina Kintende e C. Mutoba Kapoma, ha tradotto nel 2013 Le Roi s’amuse di Victor Hugo e Les Règles du savoir-vivre dans la société moderne di Jean-Luc Lagarce con il titolo Tamthilia mbili za Kifaransa (Due commedie francesi). Il testo è stato tradotto in una varietà di swahili parlata nella Repubblica Democratica del Congo per promuovere, come sottolinea l’editore nella prefazione, una visione pluralistica dello swahili (Bgoya 2013: vii). Questo approccio testimonia un crescente interesse per una concezione della lingua che vada oltre le sue forme standardizzate, riconoscendo le dinamiche culturali e linguistiche delle comunità swahilofone al di fuori dell’Africa orientale.

La diversificazione delle modalità di pubblicazione ha anche inciso sull’incremento delle opere tradotte in swahili. Sia attraverso il coinvolgimento di case editrici che hanno pubblicato in swahili al di fuori dell’area swahilofona – come la casa editrice statunitense Genesis Press, impegnata nella pubblicazione di traduzioni in swahili, tra cui Anne of Green Gables di Lucy Maud Montgomery (tradotto come Msichana Anne wa nyumba ya paa la kijani), e nella ristampa di classici già disponibili, come Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver’s Travels,  The Swiss Family Robinson (tradotto come Jamaa Hodari Kisiwani) e Oliver Twist, oltre a riedizioni delle opere di Julius Nyerere, tra cui The Merchant of Venice (Mabepari wa Venisi) e Julius Caesar (Juliasi Kaizari) – sia attraverso l’autopubblicazione, come ha fatto, ad esempio lo scrittore Mlenge Fanuel Mgendi con la sua traduzione di Čechov e l’adattamento shakespeariano di King Lear (2009).

Un altro elemento decisivo che ha contribuito ad incrementare i flussi di traduzione in swahili è stata la visione di certe figure editoriali, come Walter Bgoya, intellettuale e attivista tanzaniano, fondatore della casa editrice indipendente Mkuki na Nyota, ed editore progressista di lunga data, che ha sempre dedicato sforzi significativi allo sviluppo di una cultura della lettura e la promozione dello swahili come lingua attraverso cui accedere alle letterature del mondo, pubblicando traduzioni di autori come Mariama Bâ, Naguib Mahfouz, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Platone e Abdulrazak Gurnah.

Il supporto di istituzioni (para)diplomatiche è stato un altro elemento fondamentale per sostenere attività traduttive. Un esempio sono le recenti traduzioni dall’italiano, una lingua fonte non comune per le traduzioni in swahili, di letteratura per ragazzi. Fiabe al telefono di Rodari è stato pubblicato in occasione del centenario della nascita dello scrittore italiano e grazie al sostegno dell’ambasciata italiana a Dar es Salaam. Nel 2023 Mille meraviglie. Viaggio alla scoperta dell’Italia, uno dei libri della fortunata serie Geronimo Stilton, è stato tradotto da Michelangela Adamo su iniziativa del Ministero degli Affari Esteri e della Cooperazione Internazionale in collaborazione con la Commissione Nazionale Italiana dell’UNESCO per avvicinare il pubblico giovane all’Italia.

Infine, il riconoscimento della letteratura africana a livello internazionale ha contribuito ad alimentare l’interesse per la traduzione in swahili. L’assegnazione del Premio Nobel ad Abdulrazak Gurnah nel 2021 non solo ha stimolato la traduzione delle sue opere, ma ha anche rafforzato il ruolo della traduzione come pratica e come ambito di ricerca.

6. Conclusione

Sebbene la traduzione letteraria occupi ancora uno spazio marginale nel mercato editoriale dell’Africa orientale, dominato dalla produzione di testi scolastici; nonostante diversi generi letterari e molteplici aree geografiche siano ancora poco rappresentate nei flussi di traduzione; e malgrado il numero annuale di traduzioni in swahili resti contenuto,[60] lo spazio letterario della traduzione in swahili si configura come un campo in espansione e pieno di promesse. Sostenuto dall’iniziativa di singoli traduttori e dal coinvolgimento di traduttori provenienti da diverse regioni swahilofone, da editori lungimiranti e dal supporto di centri culturali, questo spazio è catalizzatore di un lento ma significativo cambiamento che apre progressivamente il campo letterario swahili alle letterature del mondo. Inoltre, la traduzione letteraria in swahili ha il potenziale per trasformare la lingua swahili in una potente forza di comunicazione intra e interregionale e continentale. E promette di offrire un grande potenziale alla ricerca traduttologica internazionale.

Nonostante questa espansione, sono numerosi gli ambiti di ricerca ancora poco esplorati. Studi promettenti potrebbero nascere dall’intersezione tra approcci storici (macro- e microstoria, histoire croisée), sociologici, semiotici, digitali e approcci dei genetic translation studies, applicati alle pratiche individuali e istituzionali nei contesti swahilofoni. Un ulteriore sviluppo metodologico consiste nell’integrare analisi quantitative e qualitative, ovvero nel sostenere una prospettiva generale attraverso letture microstoriche e testuali. Particolare attenzione merita la fase precoloniale della costa swahili, ambiente multilingue e cosmopolita caratterizzato da intensi scambi religiosi, letterari e commerciali con l’Oceano Indiano. Da approfondire è la coesistenza di differenti culture traduttive successive all’arrivo di potenze esterne: da un lato la cultura traduttiva degli ulamaa, radicata nei circuiti transoceanici islamici, dall’altro quella dei missionari e, successivamente, dei poteri coloniali, che si imposero nel sistema della circolazione dei testi letterari. Molti altri ambiti tematici richiedono un’indagine più sistematica. Tra di questi il discorso sull’autotraduzione nelle opere di autori come William E. Mkufya, Gabriel Ruhumbika ed Euphrase Kezilahabi, che potrebbe far emergere continuità e discontinuità tra la riflessione traduttiva interna al mondo swahili e quella riferita a testi provenienti da altri spazi letterari. O il discorso sulle ritraduzioni che invita a interrogarsi sull’impatto di fattori estetici e non estetici nella riscrittura di una storia letteraria. Un altro ambito che merita maggiore attenzione è il ruolo delle istituzioni paradiplomatiche nei processi di scambio culturale e nelle interconnessioni tra produzione letteraria e soft power. Esplorare questi aspetti significa non solo ampliare la conoscenza storica della traduzione in swahili, ma anche integrare implicazioni teoriche e metodologiche, pienamente situate nel contesto swahili, nel dibattito teorico globale.

About the author(s)

Serena Talento is assistant professor at the chair of Literatures in African Languages at the University of Bayreuth, where she teaches Swahili language and thematic courses on translation studies, particularly in relation to African contexts. She is also research associate at Department of Linguistics and Language Practice at the University of the Free State, and affiliated to the Tsikinya-Chaka Centre at the University of the Witwatersrand. She has published on historical and sociological aspects of literary exchanges from and into Swahili, translation and nationalism, Shakespearean translations into Swahili, translation and manuscript cultures.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

English:

This study is based on the important relationship between the different competences of the translation (macro)-competence in legal Translation and Interpreting (T&I) contexts and responds to the public service translators and interpreters’ need to specialise in international judicial cooperation through documentation research. Our proposal has two objectives: to propose research sources for specialisation in international judicial cooperation and to classify them, in a database of 80 sources, according to their applicability for developing the thematic or the textual competence. They are also classified into legislation, specialised websites and web pages, handbooks and guides, audiovisual sources, Other country-specific information sources and parallel forms.  In short, the study proposes the use of sources for specialisation in terms of thematic content, text genres, and terminology while facilitating access to already available texts and information to exploit their potential.

Spanish:

Este estudio parte de la importante relación entre las diferentes competencias de la (macro)-competencia traductora en contextos de Traducción e Interpretación (T&I) jurídica y la necesidad de especialización de los traductores e intérpretes de los servicios públicos en el ámbito de la cooperación judicial internacional a través de la documentación. Nuestra propuesta tiene dos objetivos: proponer fuentes de documentación para la especialización en la cooperación judicial internacional y clasificarlas en una base de datos de 80 fuentes teniendo en cuenta su aplicabilidad para el desarrollo de las competencias temática o textual. Se clasifican también en textos legislativos, sitios y páginas web especializadas, manuales y guías, fuentes audiovisuales, otras fuentes de consulta de información específica por países y formularios paralelos.  En definitiva, el estudio propone la utilización de fuentes para la especialización en cuanto a contenido temático, géneros textuales y terminología, a la vez que facilita el acceso a textos e información ya disponibles para aprovechar su potencial.

Keywords: cooperación judicial internacional, traducción jurídica, competencia temática, competencia textual, fuentes de documentación, international judicial cooperation, legal translation, textual competence, documentation sources, thematic competence

1.Introducción 

1.1 Contexto

Este estudio parte de la importante relación entre las diferentes competencias de la (macro)-competencia traductora en contextos de Traducción e Interpretación (T&I) jurídica y responde a la especialización de los traductores e intérpretes de los servicios públicos en el ámbito de la cooperación judicial internacional a través de la documentación temática y textual. A partir de los estudios más relevantes, identificamos tres necesidades principales.

Una primera observación es la escasez de los estudios en torno a la documentación y desarrollo de la competencia traductora en contextos de cooperación judicial internacional. Hasta ahora, la cooperación judicial en la UE ha sido objeto de estudio recurrente en el ámbito del derecho, normalmente desde una perspectiva histórica o generalista y también en análisis de textos de cooperación concretos, como la Orden de Detención Europea (Suñé Arilla y Vitalaru 2025). Sin embargo, no se ha tratado con la misma asiduidad desde la perspectiva de la traducción. Desde la lingüística y la terminología, existen trabajos sobre el uso del inglés europeo y la transferencia de terminología jurídica de la UE a las órdenes internas (Suñé Arilla y Vitalaru 2025).

De hecho, los estudios sobre la competencia traductora en contextos jurídicos entendida en un sentido más general, no específicamente aplicada a la cooperación internacional, parten de las competencias establecidas en modelos generalistas como los de Kelly (2005) o del grupo PACTE (Hurtado Albir, Kuznik y Rodríguez-Inés 2022). En concreto, el grupo PACTE considera la competencia traductora como “un conocimiento básicamente operativo” que engloba competencias interrelacionadas. Se percibe “como el sistema subyacente de conocimientos declarativos y fundamentalmente operativos necesarios para traducir” y su componente estratégico ocupa un lugar importante (Hurtado Albir, Kuznik y Rodríguez-Inés 2022: 27). Se trata pues, de una serie de subcompetencias: bilingüe, extralingüística, instrumental y estratégica, así como de conocimientos de traducción y componentes psicofisiológicos (Hurtado Albir, Kuznik y Rodríguez-Inés 2022).

Los modelos específicos de competencia traductora en contextos jurídicos parten de modelos generales de competencia traductora. Destacan los planteamientos de Prieto Ramos (2011), Soriano Barabino (2016) y Scarpa y Orlando (2017). En particular, el proyecto QUALETRA (EULITA, s.f.), descrito por Scarpa y Orlando (2017), parte del marco de la red European Master’s in Translation (EMT) de 2017 —actualizado en 2022— y conserva las seis competencias esenciales (profesional, lingüística, intercultural, temática, tecnológica y de explotación de la información), a las que añade subcompetencias adaptadas a la traducción penal y elementos específicos para el ejercicio jurídico. Estos estudios muestran la importancia de tratar las competencias tanto desde la formación como desde la investigación, y muestran la variedad de necesidades de especialización, que depende, en gran medida, de la capacidad estratégica y documental del traductor. Desde una perspectiva didáctica, Soriano Barabino (2013, 2016, 2018) propone programas de formación para desarrollar estas competencias en contextos jurídicos, mientras que Prieto Ramos (2011) plantea un modelo aplicable a la práctica profesional y la enseñanza. Martínez-Carrasco (2019) y Rubio Ortega (2017) analizan los aspectos metodológicos de la formación, centrándose en competencias concretas, mientras que Orlando (2016) compara resultados de distintos perfiles y valida el modelo QUALETRA, subrayando la necesidad de una formación sólida en traducción como base indispensable para el desarrollo efectivo de la competencia jurídica.

Una segunda observación radica en que, además de la especialización genérica en los ámbitos judicial y policial, la cooperación judicial internacional exige una formación continua y específica. La preparación general del traductor e intérprete en los servicios públicos resulta insuficiente para afrontar las particularidades de cada área. Resolver con eficacia la amplia gama de retos y dificultades de la T&I de textos jurídicos requiere, de hecho, el dominio de una serie de competencias interrelacionadas. De especial relevancia son las categorías de “dificultades de tipo extratextual y formativo” y “de tipo terminológico-conceptual”, que subrayan problemas conceptuales, socioculturales y la asimetría entre los sistemas conceptuales de distintos ordenamientos (Vitalaru 2019: 473–474). Además, como indican Suñé Arilla y Vitalaru (2025), la cooperación judicial internacional se caracteriza por el uso de un lenguaje jurídico europeo (Balaguer Callejón 2004), la incorporación al derecho europeo de terminología propia de los ordenamientos nacionales (Jopek-Bosiacka 2013), la transferencia inversa de terminología europea al derecho nacional (Biel y Doczekalska 2020) y la utilización de documentos emanados del derecho de la Unión Europea. Por todo ello, el nivel de especialización requerido es aún más elevado. Estas particularidades ponen de manifiesto la necesidad de clasificar y organizar las fuentes de documentación en línea, empleando, por ejemplo, el modelo de Vitalaru (2025) para evaluar su potencial formativo.

Una tercera observación que realizamos a partir de los estudios disponibles es la falta de compilaciones integrales no solo para la documentación en cooperación internacional sino también para la Traducción e Interpretación en Servicios Públicos (TISP), un campo que integra la traducción e interpretación judicial nacional e internacional. De hecho, la TISP proporciona a la población extranjera que no domina el idioma del país de acogida un acceso igualitario a servicios públicos (Sánchez Ramos, 2020) y puede clasificarse en tres grandes áreas: servicios sociales y administrativos como educación, empleo y vivienda; servicios médicos a través de centros de salud, hospitales y clínicas; o jurídicos (contextos judiciales, policiales y penitenciarios) (Hertog, 2010: 49).

En cuanto a la clasificación de materiales formativos para la TISP, hay muy pocas iniciativas centradas en recursos de TISP. Destacan Vitalaru (2025) y Vitalaru y Bayón Cenitagoya (2025), que se basan en el proyecto Erasmus+ DIALOGOS para ordenar las fuentes por ámbitos —sanitario, protección internacional, jurídico y mixto— y poner de relieve las tendencias temáticas y lingüísticas de cada uno. Por su parte, en cuanto a las iniciativas de clasificación de recursos de un único ámbito, los estudios de Nevado Llopis, Pelea & Bobăilă (2020) y Nevado Llopis & Foulquié Rubio (2022) examinan los recursos del proyecto Erasmus+ ReACTMe, centrado en la interpretación sanitaria, clasificando los materiales según destinatarios y competencias que desarrollan. Otros estudios de interés son los de López Arroyo (2011) y Cardos Murillo & Herrero Sanz (2019), que ofrecen catálogos específicos de fuentes para la traducción jurídica en inglés/francés-español. Pese a estas aportaciones sectoriales, no existe todavía un catálogo unificado que reúna de manera integral materiales para la documentación temática necesaria para traductores e intérpretes de la TISP en los ámbitos sanitario y jurídico, este último con su variedad de ramas (administrativo-social, policial, judicial nacional e internacional y penitenciario).

En definitiva, lo verdaderamente relevante que subyace en este estudio es la complejidad y la heterogeneidad de las fuentes documentales implicadas en la TISP, un ámbito que exige niveles de especialización diferentes a los de otros contextos de T&I. Los ejemplos y modelos revisados en nuestro estudio ponen de manifiesto la amplitud de formatos (textos normativos, protocolos de cooperación, registros periciales, fuentes doctrinales, etc.) y la diversidad de orígenes (nacionales, europeos, organismos internacionales), cuya consulta resulta imprescindible para desempeñar con rigor las tareas de traductores e intérpretes en cooperación judicial. Precisamente, disponer de un sistema centralizado que organice, clasifique y permita el acceso ágil a toda esa documentación—como el prototipo de base de datos aquí propuesto (apartado 3)—no solo optimiza los tiempos de búsqueda, sino que garantiza la fiabilidad y la coherencia terminológica y procedimental que son propias de este ámbito. Por tanto, más allá de la mera acumulación de recursos, lo esencial es asegurar una herramienta accesible y especializada que responda a las necesidades reales del profesional, facilitando así una práctica traductora e interpretativa verdaderamente eficaz en la cooperación internacional.

1.2 Objetivos y metodología

Este estudio tiene dos objetivos específicos: proponer fuentes de documentación para la especialización en la cooperación judicial internacional y clasificarlos teniendo en cuenta su utilidad para el desarrollo de las competencias temática y textual (de acuerdo con la definición de Vitalaru, 2025).

La metodología se fundamenta en la revisión de contenidos de determinados sitios web institucionales, que, por sus características, pueden considerarse fuentes especializadas en el ámbito objeto de estudio. Hemos utilizado la navegación manual por dichos sitios web con el fin de localizar fuentes que puedan servir para la especialización de traductores e intérpretes para incluirlos en una base de datos (BD). El planteamiento general se basa en Vitalaru (2025), que recopila y clasifica fuentes de diferentes ámbitos teniendo en cuenta su aplicabilidad para el desarrollo de dicha competencia. Otros criterios que hemos tenido en cuenta son la autoría, la especificidad temática, el público destinatario experto a los que están dirigidos y su localización en sitios web especializados. En concreto, hemos seguido las siguientes fases: 

1. Compilación de información sobre los recursos disponibles para autoridades judiciales partiendo de los sitios web de las instituciones europeas con competencias en cooperación judicial, concretamente la European Judicial Network (EJN) y Eurojust. 
2. Búsqueda manual de otras fuentes monolingües y multilingües en las páginas web de las instituciones mencionadas en el punto 1. 
3. Búsqueda manual de fuentes audiovisuales mediante palabras clave. 
4. Elaboración de BD organizada teniendo en cuenta las competencias que desarrollan los traductores e intérpretes (apartado 3). La BD inicial se elaboró en formato Excel y se informatizó posteriormente en formato html.

2. Competencias en contextos jurídicos: dimensiones interrelacionadas para la resolución de problemas

Autores como Piecychna (2013) o Prieto Ramos (2011) consideran que todas las competencias de la (macro)-competencia traductora están interrelacionadas entre sí. Aunque las fronteras entre las competencias del traductor son poco claras por su alto grado de interrelación y por las diferencias entre los modelos existentes, en líneas generales, se pueden identificar claramente varias competencias comunes a varios modelos, como observamos en los siguientes apartados.

2.1 Competencia temática y cultural

En la literatura sobre la traducción de textos jurídicos las competencias temática y cultural se tratan desde diferentes perspectivas. Si en modelos como los de Hurtado Albir (1999) y Prieto Ramos (2011), la competencia cultural se fusiona con la competencia temática formando una competencia extralingüística, autoras como Rubio Ortega (2017) defienden la distinción entre ambas competencias. Según esta perspectiva, la competencia cultural se refiere a la realidad particular de un país mientras que la competencia temática hace referencia al ámbito de especialidad concreto y a las realidades particulares de cada país.

Sin embargo, a pesar de las diferencias entre los modelos propuestos hasta la fecha, la mayoría coinciden en la existencia de una competencia extralingüística (Hurtado Albir 1999; Prieto Ramos 2011), que comprende una variedad de conocimientos, principalmente de tipo “enciclopédico, cultural y temático” (Herrera Villarraga et al. 2021:11), lo que implica tanto una competencia temática como una competencia cultural.

Para Hurtado Albir (1999), esta competencia incluye conocimientos de tipo teórico sobre la traducción, conocimientos biculturales y enciclopédicos generales, así como conocimientos temáticos de diferentes ámbitos. En cuanto al componente cultural, hay que destacar las múltiples dimensiones del concepto ‘cultura’ que interesan al traductor jurídico: los conceptos jurídicos de cada país, la cultura asociada a los textos jurídicos y los aspectos culturales de la traducción (Monzó 2002). Entre los conocimientos que los modelos incluyen en esta categoría encontramos conocimientos sobre las familias o tradiciones jurídicas específicas para los conceptos tratados en los textos (Soriano Barabino 2016), el funcionamiento de los ordenamientos jurídicos y de las ramas del derecho en cada sistema de derecho (Rubio Ortega 2017), las instituciones, las figuras, los procedimientos, las fuentes del derecho y las divergencias entre ordenamientos (Soriano Barabino 2016; Prieto Ramos 2009; Scarpa y Orlando 2017), así como el conocimiento de cuestiones jurídicas de actualidad y el conocimiento de las directivas de la UE sobre traducción (Scarpa y Orlando 2017). Estos conocimientos se completan con las habilidades de “investigación, razonamiento e interpretación jurídicos” (Prieto Ramos 2009:5). Piecychna (2013) también incluye la capacidad de aplicar métodos de derecho comparado, así como la capacidad de analizar e interpretar textos jurídicos.  Por último, esta competencia contiene, además, conocimientos que le permiten al traductor jurídico situar cada texto en su contexto jurídico, comprender sus efectos jurídicos (Rubio Ortega 2017) y detectar divergencias entre sistemas que puedan llevar a errores en la traducción.

En definitiva, esta competencia permite la comprensión profunda de la temática y sus textos y es esencial por tres motivos. En primer lugar, los conocimientos temáticos son esenciales para la resolución de los problemas de traducción, que pueden derivar de las asimetrías y el anisomorfismo entre sistemas jurídicos (Prieto Ramos 2009) y saber estructurar adecuadamente la toma de decisiones con respecto a los procedimientos de traducción aplicables a cada género textual (Borja Albi 2005). En segundo lugar, es necesaria para poder afrontar la interdisciplinariedad de la traducción de textos jurídicos dado que los textos jurídicos pueden versar sobre cualquier tema (Prieto Ramos 2009). Por último, la competencia temática es fundamental para la formación continua, si se tiene en cuenta que la especialización garantiza la capacidad de traducir textos especializados y constituye un factor diferenciador entre un profesional de la traducción y una persona con conocimientos lingüísticos bilingües (Herrera Villarraga et al. 2021).

2.2 Competencia textual y comunicativa

La competencia textual integra conocimientos sobre la clasificación en géneros,  tipologías textuales de los textos jurídicos y convenciones textuales (Borja Albi 2005; Piecychna 2013) del ámbito de especialidad, conocimientos sobre análisis textual y el dominio de las convenciones de cada género textual (Prieto Ramos 2011; Piecychna 2013), la capacidad de conceptualizar la terminología jurídica, el dominio de los registros, la capacidad de identificar las funciones de los textos jurídicos, o las destrezas de interpretación y análisis de textos jurídicos (Piecychna 2013). En el modelo de “competencias de transferencia o textuales” de Borja Albi (2005) se detallan, además del conocimiento de la tipología textual en ambas lenguas y la macroestructura de diversos géneros textuales, los siguientes aspectos definitorios: “conocimientos de textología jurídica comparada”, “aspectos formales y estilísticos géneros”, “aspectos formales exigidos por la legislación en cada ordenamiento jurídico” y “función y eficacia jurídica de los géneros” (17).

Por lo tanto, esta competencia también es fundamental, no solo porque implica la familiarización con la tipología textual de un determinado ámbito y con una variedad de géneros textuales, sino también porque está relacionada con el desarrollo de otras competencias del traductor. De hecho, la competencia textual suele describirse en relación con la competencia comunicativa y la competencia lingüística. A su vez, la competencia lingüística incluye el dominio del lenguaje jurídico en sus lenguas de especialidad, de los registros propios de los textos jurídicos y de las convenciones textuales (Soriano Barabino 2016). Es el caso de los modelos de los siguientes autores: Borja Albi (2005), que incluye la fraseología y terminología de cada género textual entre las competencias de transferencia o textuales, Prieto Ramos (2011) y Piecychna (2013), que integran algunos elementos (por ejemplo, el manejo de los registros y los usos lingüísticos especializados) y Soriano Barabino (2016), que sitúa los diferentes componentes de la competencia lingüística en la competencia comunicativa y textual.

En el modelo de QUALETRA, que no reconoce una competencia textual independiente, se menciona una dimensión textual dentro de la competencia intercultural. Se contemplan habilidades relativas al dominio de las convenciones de género y las estrategias retóricas utilizadas por los géneros textuales jurídicos, la capacidad de vincular textos y contextos jurídicos, la capacidad de analizar las estructuras de los textos e identificar la información esencial y el objetivo jurídico, así como la capacidad de respetar las ambigüedades y la intertextualidad (Scarpa y Orlando 2017). Más específicamente, el “dominio sobre las convenciones de género” implica contar con una serie de conocimientos lingüísticos específicos para el reconocimiento de características microtextuales (léxico recurrente, fórmulas o expresiones características, etc.). La “capacidad de vincular textos y contextos” también presupone ciertos conocimientos temáticos que permiten relacionar los textos con los sistemas jurídicos y contextos de uso a los que se vinculan (Scarpa y Orlando 2017: 30). 

2.3 Competencia instrumental o documental como competencia transversal

La competencia instrumental se refiere a una serie de habilidades instrumentales relacionados con la búsqueda de información y el uso adecuado de fuentes de documentación (Vitalaru, 2018a y b) e integra elementos como el dominio de las fuentes de documentación especializadas en el ámbito o el manejo de una variedad de fuentes como, por ejemplo, documentos paralelos (Prieto Ramos, 2011; Soriano Barabino, 2016). Por lo tanto, influye en todas las descritas hasta aquí, de modo que una competencia documental adecuada puede mejorar considerablemente tanto los conocimientos temáticos y culturales como los conocimientos textuales y comunicativos. Vitalaru (2018a: 38) resume la competencia documental en varios aspectos metodológicos:

1. Crear su propia metodología de trabajo e investigación, siendo especialmente riguroso con respecto al proceso de documentación basado en unos criterios básicos.

2. Desarrollar unos métodos adecuados de gestión de la información, de acuerdo con unos criterios establecidos para poder reutilizarla cuando sea necesario (crear glosarios personales).

3. Dominar técnicas de análisis textual del documento y ser realista con respecto a los conocimientos temáticos y habilidades de comprensión necesarios.

4. Contar con fuentes de documentación fiables y saber dónde y cómo buscar la información –de cualquier tipo– que pueda necesitar.

Además, (Vitalaru 2018a) señala que ser consciente de la variedad de fuentes de documentación disponibles y saber utilizarlos eficazmente en función de la necesidad son dos habilidades directamente relacionadas con el aprovechamiento de su potencial.

3. Fuentes de documentación para traductores e intérpretes: descripción y ejemplos 

Como objetivo principal de nuestro estudio, se ha elaborado una BD para documentación en el ámbito de la cooperación judicial internacional, que reúne 80 fuentes de documentación clasificadas en función de las competencias que pueden ayudar a desarrollar (temática y textual). Esta BD está disponible en abierto[1] en la página web del grupo de Formación e Investigación en TISP de la Universidad de Alcalá (FITISPos-UAH)[2], un grupo multilingüe y multidisciplinar que constituye un referente español nacional e internacional dentro de la disciplina de la TISP. A su vez, se puede acceder a la misma desde la página web del Máster Universitario en Comunicación Intercultural, Interpretación y Traducción en los Servicios Públicos[3] de la misma universidad, que forma en TISP desde 2009 en varias especialidades lingüísticas: español-árabe/chino/francés/inglés/ruso y es coordinado por miembros de este grupo.

3.1 Descripción de la BD

Las fuentes incluidas en la BD generada se han integrado en cinco secciones, cada una correspondiente, en un primer momento a una hoja de un fichero Excel, y, posteriormente, a un vínculo en la página web del grupo FITISPos, y asociada a la competencia temática o textual: 1) legislación, 2) páginas web especializadas, 3) manuales y guías, 4) materiales audiovisuales, 5) fuentes de consulta de información específica por países y 6) formularios paralelos (Figura 1).  

Figura 1. Portada base de datos

En cada una de las secciones se incluyen cinco columnas: nombre, dirección, institución, contenido, organización. La columna “contenido” describe el tipo de información que puede encontrarse en el recurso o los tipos de materiales que alojan las fuentes, como ocurriría en el caso, por ejemplo, de las páginas web especializadas. Por último, la columna “organización” describe la estructuración de la información dentro del recurso, así como las formas de interrogación del recurso, es decir, las formas en las que pueden localizarse contenidos específicos dentro del recurso, mediante un motor de búsqueda, por ejemplo, o mediante un índice alfabético de contenidos en lengua inglesa (Figura 2).

Figura 2. Ejemplo recurso Fiches Belges en la base de datos

En los siguientes apartados se incluyen descripciones breves y tablas con una selección representativa de cada categoría de fuentes seleccionadas de esta BD.

3.2 Legislación y jurisprudencia europea  

La sección de legislación de la BD recoge un total de 11 fuentes de bases de datos y colecciones de legislación y está orientada a la localización de legislación comunitaria según su relevancia o aplicabilidad al tema. Cuatro de ellas permiten localizar jurisprudencia emitida por órganos judiciales europeos en relación con alguno de los instrumentos de cooperación judicial europeos. La Tabla 1 incluye una selección:

Tabla 1. Selección de bases de datos de legislación

Entre las fuentes incluidas destacamos EUR-Lex, portal de referencia para la localización de legislación de la Unión Europea en cualquier ámbito temático. Su sección Summaries of EU legislation también es representativa, especialmente debido al apartado Justice, Freedom and Security, en el que se incluyen resúmenes de legislación sobre diferentes aspectos de la política de justicia y seguridad europea. Entre estos resúmenes se encuentran varios relativos al área de cooperación judicial en materia penal y cooperación judicial en materia civil.  

Resultan igualmente interesantes las recopilaciones de instrumentos jurídicos sobre derechos y garantías procesales clasificados por carpetas y las fuentes clasificadas por áreas del delito.

3.3 Sitios y páginas web especializadas 

Los sitios y páginas web incluidos en esta sección son generales y amplios y recogen herramientas específicamente diseñadas para profesionales del derecho dedicados a la cooperación judicial. Se trata de dos sitios web de instituciones europeas con competencias en cooperación judicial (European Judicial Network y Eurojust), así como de la European Judicial Library, del Council of Europe y de información seleccionada del sitio web de la EJN (Tabla 2). Destaca, por un lado, la variedad de información, desde información general, como instrumentos, competencias y profesionales del ámbito, hasta información más específica, como delitos relevantes, documentación y una biblioteca que clasifica legislación, manuales de procedimientos y organismos de cooperación. También se incluye la cooperación judicial con terceros países, proporcionando una visión completa y detallada de las herramientas y estructuras disponibles para facilitar la colaboración internacional en justicia penal.

Tabla 2. Sitios y páginas web especializadas

3.4 Manuales y guías 

La sección de manuales y guías contiene 16 documentos elaborados por diferentes instituciones europeas o por expertos en el marco de proyectos europeos, orientados a especialistas del derecho que trabajan en el ámbito de la cooperación judicial (Tabla 3). En los ejemplos recogidos se describen diferentes procedimientos de cooperación judicial o se ofrecen recomendaciones sobre cómo proceder en la comunicación con otras autoridades judiciales (ámbito penal, civil, reconocimiento mutuo, traslado de personas condenadas y contexto sobre determinados delitos, entre otras cuestiones).

Varias de las fuentes mencionadas contienen fuentes visuales, como esquemas sobre procedimientos, útiles para la documentación de los traductores e intérpretes, así como información jurídico-cultural referente a países concretos, con lo que también facilitan el trabajo comparado de documentación que exige un encargo de traducción. 

Tabla 3. Selección de manuales y guías

3.5 Fuentes audiovisuales 

La sección de fuentes audiovisuales (Tabla 4) agrupa varios vídeos de corta duración que describen a grandes rasgos y en lenguaje divulgativo el funcionamiento de diferentes formas de cooperación judicial. Los vídeos suelen incluir explicaciones sobre los orígenes o las bases jurídicas de los instrumentos, los procedimientos de emisión, recepción y ejecución de las solicitudes de asistencia o reconocimiento (por ej., de una orden de detención europea o de una orden europea de investigación). También se contextualizan en el marco de las competencias que tienen asignadas las agencias de cooperación judicial (principalmente Eurojust) con respecto a la ejecución de las medidas descritas, la resolución de conflictos de jurisdicción o la creación de equipos conjuntos de investigación. De las fuentes incluidas destacan los vídeos sobre la Orden de Detención Europea (European Arrest Warrant) y la Orden Europea de Investigación (European Investigation Order) por su representatividad en el ámbito de la cooperación judicial en la UE. 

Tabla 4. Fuentes audiovisuales

3.6 Otras fuentes de consulta de información específica por países

La Tabla 5 incluye un resumen de las diferentes fuentes de consulta de información específica (medidas de investigación y prueba, medidas de cooperación y asistencia judicial, medidas cautelares y ejecución) diseñadas específicamente para las autoridades judiciales que los traductores e intérpretes pueden utilizar también en su proceso de especialización en el ámbito de la cooperación internacional.

Estas herramientas permiten la identificación de las autoridades con competencias en cooperación judicial en cada país (Judicial Atlas/European Judicial Atlas in Criminal Matters, Fiches Belges), la localización de legislación aplicable a nivel europeo y a nivel nacional (Judicial Atlas, Fiches Belges, Information about national systems), la consulta de documentación especializada (Judicial Library), o la obtención de información sobre las particularidades que aplica cada país al ejecutar las medidas de cooperación judicial (Fiches Belges). Destaca el European Judicial Atlas in Criminal Matters por la organización temática de la información (Anexos 1 y 2), y los 42 términos generados de utilidad para traductores (Anexo 3). Esta información es muy relevante dado que la selección de la autoridad competente depende de una serie de aspectos: el delito, la legislación aplicable y la fase del procedimiento. El Atlas permite búsquedas por diferentes parámetros (E-Justice Europa s.f.), que se pueden clasificar en tres categorías:

a) Medidas de investigación y prueba:

• Agentes e informadores: infiltración.
• Testigos, víctimas, sospechosos: citación y audiencia.
• Lugares: visita y registro.
• Examen, registro corporal y evaluación pericial.
• Rastreo e interceptación de (tele)comunicaciones.

b) Medidas de cooperación y asistencia judicial:

• Documentos: obtención.
• Operaciones transfronterizas.
• Medidas específicas de los instrumentos de reconocimiento mutuo.
• Transferencia de procedimientos.

c) Medidas cautelares y ejecución:

• Bienes: embargo, confiscación y restitución.

Igualmente importantes son las Fiches Belges, que facilitan la comprobación del uso de una medida en un país determinado, el idioma que se debe utilizar en la solicitud de cooperación, la información que debe contener la solicitud y la comparación de medidas entre dos países. En el Anexo 4 se encuentra la estructura de la información esperada en cada ficha.

El recurso Information about national systems es útil para la extracción de información judicial de los ordenamientos jurídicos de los Estados miembros, es decir, el funcionamiento de los sistemas judiciales, los tipos de órganos judiciales y las jurisdicciones. 

 Tabla 5. Fuentes de consulta para autoridades judiciales por países

3.7 Formularios paralelos

Las fuentes que facilitan la documentación textual son bastante específicas. La sección de formularios contiene un total de 35 formularios o modelos de documentos operativos utilizados en la cooperación judicial entre Estados miembros. Los formularios están disponibles en su totalidad en la Judicial Library de la European Judicial Network. La Tabla 6 incluye una selección:

Tabla 6. Formularios 

4. Discusiones 

La BD elaborada, que funciona como recurso para la consulta de fuentes fiables, es de utilidad en la fase de documentación del traductor e intérprete y contribuye al desarrollo de la competencia temática y textual. Nuestro estudio propone la consulta de estas fuentes a aquellos estudiantes y/o profesionales de la T&I que deseen especializarse en materia de cooperación judicial, preparándose de manera autónoma sobre el contenido temático, los géneros textuales y la terminología específica.

Si tomamos como referente el modelo de competencias de traducción jurídica del proyecto QUALETRA, observamos que las fuentes propuestas pueden resultar de utilidad para desarrollar varias competencias. En primer lugar, se destaca la competencia instrumental/de documentación/de extracción de información (information mining competence) como competencia transversal que afecta al resto de las competencias. Esta competencia contempla, además de la búsqueda y evaluación de fuentes e información, la habilidad de extracción de información relevante (por ejemplo, información terminológica y fraseológica) a partir de un corpus de textos paralelos (como en el caso de los formularios aportados en la Tabla 6). La extracción de fraseología y terminología específica puede completarse con la búsqueda y aprendizaje de colocaciones monolingües o bilingües a partir de la elaboración de un córpus monolingüe de formularios de cada idioma o de un corpus de legislación. Todo ello demuestra la importancia de la competencia documental y el uso eficaz de la tecnología (en este caso, de las herramientas de corpus) para la mejora de otras habilidades (lingüística y textual).

En segundo lugar, se subraya el desarrollo de la competencia temática, mediante el dominio de los conceptos y términos jurídicos presentes en los textos objeto de traducción. Si tenemos en cuenta esta competencia, varias de las fuentes presentadas aportan beneficios desde diferentes perspectivas. En general, la mayoría de las fuentes proporcionan información detallada y especializada sobre la cooperación judicial internacional y facilitan la comprensión del contexto y las situaciones que pueden darse. Si las bases de datos de legislación, la Judicial Library, El European Judicial Atlas y la Information about the National Systems nos ayudan a comprender el marco legal europeo y, en el caso del último, del marco legal nacional y las particularidades de cada sistema judicial, las Fiches Belges y el European Judicial Atlas aportan datos sobre su implementación y sobre las autoridades competentes en cada Estado miembro, así como sobre la normativa aplicable. Mediante estas fuentes se pueden ampliar, por ejemplo, los conocimientos del traductor o intérprete sobre los tipos de cooperación entre las diferentes autoridades: medidas de Orden de Investigación Europea (OIE) y Asistencia Jurídica Mutua (AJM), Equipos Conjuntos de Investigación (ECI), Orden de Detención Europea (ODE), transferencia de procedimientos, confiscación y restitución de bienes, o tránsito de una persona. Por su parte, los manuales y guías proporcionan contexto sobre el funcionamiento y procedimientos del ámbito en un lenguaje accesible.

Por último, la competencia lingüística de nuestro estudio está asociada a la competencia textual. Para desarrollar la competencia textual, varias de las fuentes incluidas en el apartado 3 son de utilidad para mejorar el acceso al lenguaje jurídico y su terminología. Su consulta permite observar el uso del lenguaje en contextos reales, así como mejorar la traducción y la precisión en la redacción de este tipo de textos. Por ejemplo, el Compendium permite practicar la redacción en contextos jurídicos, mientras que la Judicial Library, las Fiches Belges y los formularios (Tablas 5 y 6) ofrecen documentación operativa con terminología, fraseología, estructuras y convenciones textuales específicas. Asimismo, la disponibilidad de los formularios en las lenguas oficiales de la UE (corpus de textos paralelos) son un recurso multilingüe valioso en este sentido, ya que su alineación y su análisis con herramientas de corpus tiene varias aplicaciones. De hecho, varios estudios recalcan la utilidad de los córpora paralelos para la extracción de equivalentes (Giordano y Piga 2021; Volk 2018), la elaboración de recursos multilingües (Del Grosso et al. 2020) y la didáctica de la traducción jurídica (Giordano y Piga 2021).

5. Conclusiones

Este artículo se centra en la recopilación y organización de fuentes de documentación especializadas para la formación y especialización de traductores e intérpretes en la cooperación judicial internacional. Estas fuentes, disponibles en acceso abierto, ofrecen una visión exhaustiva del entorno de cooperación judicial, tanto en sus dimensiones legales como operativas.

Dotar a los profesionales de una plataforma centralizada que organice, clasifique y ofrezca acceso inmediato a toda esta documentación no solo agiliza la recuperación de información, sino que también garantiza la coherencia terminológica y procedimental indispensable en este ámbito. En resumen, más que acumular recursos, se trata de disponer de una herramienta accesible y especializada que satisfaga las necesidades reales de los traductores e intérpretes en la cooperación internacional.

Las fuentes seleccionadas cubren una variedad de contenidos —información temática y contextual, fraseología, terminología y convenciones textuales— lo que permite a los usuarios integrar y relacionar datos procedentes de manuales, guías, normativa y fichas informativas. Asimismo, el formato accesible de la BD y las tablas incluidas en este artículo facilitará el acceso inmediato de profesionales y alumnado a la vez que sentará las bases para futuras líneas de investigación, como el análisis de técnicas y calidad de traducción entre distintas lenguas, la extracción y organización terminológica o la creación de córpora y materiales formativos.

Cabe señalar que la BD generada se apoya en dos competencias esenciales: la competencia temática y la competencia textual. Ambas resultan fundamentales para comprender las particularidades y el funcionamiento del ámbito judicial, así como para resolver problemas de traducción derivados de asimetrías entre sistemas jurídicos. Como señalamos en la introducción, estas dificultades se intensifican en la cooperación internacional, en la que el lenguaje, los conceptos y los procedimientos se distinguen por rasgos específicos propios.

En última instancia, el uso sistematizado de estas fuentes potenciará la capacidad comunicativa y la competencia traductora de los profesionales. De este modo, la localización eficiente de información precisa y de fuentes fiables contribuye a mitigar uno de los problemas de la documentación, identificado por Mayoral Asensio (1997): el tiempo excesivo dedicado a búsquedas repetidas y la necesidad de un almacenamiento sistematizado. Un uso eficaz de este repertorio de fuentes para la especialización temática y textual profunda —órganos e instituciones representativas, tipología textual, legislación, conceptos, fraseología y terminología— es clave para garantizar la calidad en la producción de textos, especialmente en un mercado laboral cada vez más competitivo.

About the author(s)

Bianca Vitalaru is a Professor of T&I at the University of Alcalá and a member of the research group FITISPos since 2007. Her research includes specialised translation, terminology, community interpreting, and technologies. She has contributed to 20 European, national, and regional research projects. She has aprox. 70 publications and has served on the editorial board of FITISPos-International JOURNAL since 2014. She has presented over 60 papers and participated in international conferences committees. As a member of three Innovation Groups—one of excellence—she has participated in 15 innovation projects and won two awards. She designed MOOCs, won a prize for knowledge transfer, and trained bilingual prisoners.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

Keywords:

[English text below]

Nel 1999, in un articolo fra i più noti, apparso nel numero di The Translator dedicato a Dialogue Interpreting e diretto da Ian Mason, Francesco Straniero Sergio affermava:

What is needed is a new awareness of the interpreter’s social competence, i.e. how his or her communicative competence is enacted in the form of appropriate conversational behaviour. For this to happen, a shift from cognitive to socio-linguistic research is necessary (Straniero Sergio 1999a: 323)

La consapevolezza che l’interprete sia un agente sociale – ossia che opera nel e contribuisce al contesto sociale a tutti gli effetti – Francesco l’aveva acquisita attraverso la lettura costante delle più recenti pubblicazioni scientifiche ma anche sperimentando sul campo, in qualità di professionista dell’interpretazione, soprattutto nell’ambito televisivo ma non solo, come l’interprete si inserisca e partecipi attivamente all’interazione. Tale consapevolezza diventa un vero e proprio programma di ricerca racchiuso in un articolo dal titolo “Verso una sociolinguistica interazionale dell’interpretazione” inserito in un volume dedicato all’interpretazione simultanea e consecutiva in prospettiva didattica (Straniero Sergio 1999b). Inutile dire che nel panorama estremamente tradizionale e tradizionalista del discorso sull’interpretazione di conferenza nelle modalità consecutiva e simultanea dell’epoca, tale articolo non fu pienamente compreso ma appare ora lungimirante se non addirittura visionario. Sicuramente Francesco attuò questo suo programma con grande curiosità e passione. 

Scorrendo i titoli delle sue pubblicazioni, che riportiamo in calce a questa introduzione, è facile osservare come abbia anticipato molte delle tematiche trattate negli articoli che compongono questo numero speciale di inTRAlinea. L’attenzione al contesto specifico e ai ruoli degli interagenti, le dinamiche interazionali che si delineano grazie ai contributi verbali e non-verbali di ogni partecipante, il posizionamento dell’interprete quale risultato della propria e dell’altrui agentività, la qualità intesa come prodotto derivante dalle condizioni specifiche in cui si effettua l’interpretazione sono solo alcuni degli aspetti che Francesco ha indagato nel suo lavoro di ricerca.

Ora, a ventisei anni di distanza da quegli articoli programmatici e a quattordici anni dalla sua prematura scomparsa, questo numero raccoglie contributi che dimostrano come la direzione indicata da Francesco abbia dato frutto. Innanzi tutto, tutti gli articoli qui pubblicati dimostrano come l’interprete attui la propria competenza quale agente sociale in contesti specifici. Cinque articoli esplorano l’interprete in interazione in contesti mediatici studiando conferenze stampa, talk show, interviste e discorsi tenuti in eventi pubblici. Senza alcun dubbio l’ambito mediatico è quello in cui rientra la maggior parte della ricerca prodotta da Francesco e a cui si lega non solo l’agentività dell’interprete ma anche l’obiettivo della spettacolarizzazione avente come oggetto l’interprete e il processo interpretativo o ancora l’interesse per una ricerca ecologica che lo portò alla costituzione del grande archivio di interpretazioni mediatiche CorIT e alle riflessioni sui corpora e la confrontabilità dei risultati, racchiuse soprattutto nel volume collettaneo Breaking Ground in Corpus-based Interpreting Studies pubblicato postumo nel 2012 (Straniero Sergio e Falbo 2012). 

I rimanenti cinque contributi, pur non essendo legati a contesti mediatici, si concentrano sulla dimensione interazionale dell’interpretazione in ambito sanitario, amministrativo (richiedenti asilo) e didattico, traendo spunto da contributi di Francesco che, pur non essendo incentrati sull’interpretazione per i servizi pubblici, mettono in risalto alcuni concetti chiave della sua ricerca. Ne sono un esempio il rapporto fra interpretazione e mediazione o l’interesse per la ripetizione quale elemento di coesione e coerenza nel discorso co-prodotto che costituisce il tema di un articolo pubblicato nel 2012 dal titolo “Repetition in Dialogue Interpreting” (Straniero Sergio 2012a) e della sua ultima e non ancora pubblicata monografia. Quanto alla relazione fra interpretazione e mediazione, il titolo stesso della sua monografia del 2007, Talkshow Interpreting: la mediazione linguistica nella conversazione-spettacolo, indica l’inscindibile unità fra interpretazione e mediazione intesa come capacità di adattamento alla specifica situazione comunicativa e alle dinamiche interazionali messe in atto dai partecipanti all’interazione. Del resto, già nel 1998, in un articolo intitolato “Notes on cultural mediation” (Straniero Sergio 1998), è possibile ravvisare alcuni dei punti chiave del dibattito che si è sviluppato in seguito. Alcuni articoli di questo numero approfondiscono tematiche annunciate da Francesco, sottolineando che l’interpretazione consiste in un insieme di azioni attraverso le quali l’interprete trae e dà senso al detto degli interagenti e al proprio dire, coordinando e partecipando in modo puntuale all’interazione e favorendo la reciproca comprensione. L’interpretazione è dunque agency (Baraldi 2023) e discrezionalità (Skaaden 2023) e pertanto, come afferma Wadensjö (1998: 106), “it is not an empirical question whether interpreters are translators or mediators – they cannot avoid being both”.

Questo numero speciale di inTRAlinea contiene articoli in francese, inglese e italiano e la presente introduzione è redatta sia in italiano sia in inglese. Tale scelta risponde al criterio della varietà linguistica perché la presenza di più lingue è elemento essenziale alla preservazione della ricchezza culturale che ogni lingua porta con sé. Traduzione e interpretazione sono ancora uno degli strumenti più potenti per tutelare la ricchezza che le lingue rappresentano e per rendere effettive società in cui più lingue coabitano (Cook 2010). Anche per Francesco (per esempio Straniero Sergio 2012b), la presenza di due o più lingue sulla scena mediatica fornisce spunti interessanti per il pubblico avvicinandolo, tra le altre cose, al bellissimo spettacolo del “parlare in lingue diverse”.

I dieci articoli che compongono questo numero sono stati presentati durante due giornate di studio tenutesi il 30 e 31 marzo 2023 all’Università di Trieste presso quello che è ora il Dipartimento di Scienze Giuridiche, del Linguaggio, dell’Interpretazione e della Traduzione, dove Francesco si è formato e ha lavorato durante tutta la sua carriera. Come anticipato, cinque articoli sono incentrati sul contesto mediatico declinando ciascuno specifiche situazioni comunicative.

Nel primo articolo Emanuele Brambilla analizza, a distanza di vent’anni, le interpretazioni simultanee effettuate durante le conferenze stampa della Formula Uno del 2022 adottando l’impostazione elaborata da Francesco in un contributo del 2003 (Straniero Sergio 2003). Il corpus analizzato consta di sole tre conferenze stampa tutte tradotte dallo stesso interprete, ma nonostante l’esiguità dei dati analizzati, l’autore riesce a confermare alcuni dei risultati ottenuti da Francesco, ossia il ricorso alle cosiddette strategie di emergenza e la preminenza dell’obiettivo di intrattenere il pubblico. Brambilla inoltre dimostra come le osservazioni di Francesco sulla qualità delle interpretazioni nel contesto specifico fossero vere. Dimostra infatti che nel caso delle interpretazioni analizzate, la competenza dell’interprete relativamente a concetti e termini tecnici gli abbia consentito di esercitare un’agency tale da poter raggiungere un livello qualitativo apprezzabile.

Raffaela Merlini e Laura Picchio esaminano diversi tipi di eventi in cui è presente l’interprete nel contesto del Giffoni Film Festival, una manifestazione cinematografica internazionale per bambini, bambine e adolescenti, che si svolge a Giffoni, città della provincia di Salerno. Applicando il concetto di footing e quello di positioning, le autrici analizzano comparativamente eventi trasmessi in streaming ed eventi non trasmessi in streaming dimostrando come i primi abbiano un impatto sul posizionamento del conduttore, dell’ospite straniero e dell’interprete nell’interazione. Lo streaming fa sì che l’ospite acquisisca una posizione dominante rispetto all’interprete che resta un po’ nell’ombra, mentre gli eventi non in streaming sono caratterizzati da maggior dinamicità e dialogicità. Il diverso posizionamento degli interagenti incide sulla dimensione interazionale dell’interpretazione che, a sua volta, crea distanza o vicinanza tra gli ospiti del festival e il giovane pubblico.

Nel terzo articolo, Shanì Harari, Amalia Amato e Gabriele Mack si concentrano su uno dei temi centrali della ricerca di Francesco (Straniero Sergio 2007), ossia l’interpretazione come attività ancorata alla situazione comunicativa del talk show e a ciò che aveva definito ‘industria dell’intrattenimento’ (‘the industry of entertainment’). Le autrici ampliano l’obiettivo dello studio analizzando le modalità con cui l’interprete contribuisce allo show attraverso lo sguardo, le espressioni del viso e la gestualità non solo per coordinare i turni di parola, ma anche con lo scopo di partecipare ad azioni quali scherzare, prendere in giro qualcuno o imitarlo. Lo studio conferma i risultati di Francesco e inoltre evidenzia come la dimensione multimodale dell’interpretazione contribuisca, insieme alla componente verbale, a fare spettacolo. La conclusione delle autrici è che lungi dall’essere invisibile, l’interprete partecipa in modo assolutamente visibile allo show attraverso scelte professionali adeguate e ispirate dalla situazione comunicativa.

La visibilità dell’interprete nel talk show viene trattata anche nel quarto contributo redatto da Antonella Sannolla, Natacha Niemants e Gabriele Mack. Negli eventi comunicativi analizzati dalle autrici, l’interprete lavora in simultanea e a distanza, essendo collocato non nello studio televisivo ma in una stanza separata, il che lo rende presente solo in voce. Questa sua assenza dallo schermo televisivo tuttavia viene compensata dai partecipanti all’interazione presenti in studio, conduttore e ospite, che verbalizzano riferimenti espliciti all’interprete, alle sue repliche e alle modalità di coordinamento dei turni a cui ricorre. Lungi dall’essere fine a se stessa, questa visibilità dell’interprete contribuisce all’obiettivo mediatico prioritario: intrattenere e divertire il pubblico.

L'insieme dei contributi dedicati al contesto mediatico si chiude con l’articolo di Han Wang e Mariachiara Russo incentrato sull’analisi multimediale delle pratiche messe in atto dall’interprete in consecutiva durante eventi pubblici disponibili su YouTube and Weibo, estratti dal corpus CIPEs italiano-cinese, e finalizzate al coordinamento dei turni di parola. In particolare, le autrici si concentrano sulla segmentazione (chuncking) del discorso, sulla negoziazione dei punti di transizione dall’interlocutore primario all’interprete e vice versa. Wang e Russo fanno precedere l’analisi del corpus selezionato da un’ampia rassegna sui temi principali che caratterizzano la riflessione e la ricerca su corpora di interpretazione sviluppando così una delle ultime tematiche cui Francesco si è dedicato nei suoi studi. 

La seconda parte del numero raccoglie i contributi dedicati all’interpretazione dialogica per i servizi pubblici, in particolare nell’ambito delle visite mediche, dei colloqui con richiedenti asilo e di quelli fra genitori e insegnanti, e all’insegnamento dell’interpretazione dialogica in corsi universitari. Daniele Urlotti sviluppa una delle ultime tematiche di ricerca di Francesco, ossia la ripetizione in interazioni mediate da interprete. Urlotti studia la ripetizione da parte dell’interprete di parti del discorso prodotto dagli altri partecipanti nelle interazioni fra medico e paziente e fra genitori e insegnanti. L’autore dimostra come le ripetizioni esaminate siano finalizzate a verificare che gli utenti, siano essi pazienti o genitori, abbiano compreso le informazioni fornite o i contenuti dello scambio. Inoltre nei contesti studiati da Urlotti, che risultano particolarmente estranei alle persone migranti e in cui l’inglese è usato come lingua franca, la ripetizione da parte dell’interprete risulta essere un modo per accertarsi che ciò che viene detto dagli interlocutori alloglotti corrisponda effettivamente a ciò che vogliono dire e permette di evitare il ricorso ad alternative sul piano linguistico che potrebbero rappresentare un ostacolo a livello interazionale.

La ripetizione è il filo conduttore anche del contributo di Pascale Janot e Caterina Falbo che però si concentrano in particolare sulle richieste di ripetizione formulate da apprendenti-interpreti a livello di laurea triennale e di laurea magistrale nell’ambito di interazioni simulate. Le analisi condotte mettono in luce forme, collocazioni e funzioni della richiesta di ripetizione in ambito didattico, evidenziando varie tipologie di sequenze, soprattutto di riparazione, a cui la richiesta di ripetizione dà avvio. I risultati suggeriscono che, per quanto attiene alle interazioni esaminate, il ricorso alla richiesta di ripetizione nelle sue varie forme dipende dalle competenze linguistiche e interazionali degli studenti e delle studentesse di interpretazione.   

Il coinvolgimento dell’interprete in contesti particolarmente sensibili è il tema sviluppato da Anne Delizée che, nel suo contributo, studia l’interazione mediata da interprete nell’ambito della salute mentale. Delizée incrocia l’analisi di interviste ai partecipanti agli incontri (medico, paziente, interprete) con l’analisi delle interazioni, per enucleare le aspettative degli interagenti sul coinvolgimento dell’interprete. Studia in particolare le modalità con cui i partecipanti posizionano l’interprete nell’interazione e quelle messe in atto dall’interprete per rispondere alle loro aspettative. Lungi dal considerarlo un partecipante distaccato, operatori sanitari e pazienti ritengono che l’interprete debba partecipare anche emotivamente alla narrazione del paziente in modo da stabilire una relazione di fiducia che consenta all’interprete di comprendere pienamente e rendere compiutamente ciò che il paziente ha espresso.

Claudio Baraldi e Laura Gavioli propongono una riflessione sul significato di mediazione nell’interpretazione sanitaria svolta da mediatori interculturali riferendosi a concetti sviluppati nell’ambito di un diverso tipo di mediazione, quella legale monolingue tesa alla risoluzione di controversie. In entrambi i casi, anche in ambito legale, ‘mediare’ non significa schierarsi con una delle parti. I mediatori sia legali sia interculturali ricorrono a pratiche discorsive, le quali pur riformulando (anche in ambito legale) ciò che hanno detto gli interlocutori, non comportano la sostituzione dell’interlocutore da parte del mediatore, ma facilitano la partecipazione degli interagenti in replica a quanto riformulato dal mediatore, favorendo così l’intervento personale e il dialogo fra di essi. Sostituirsi all’interlocutore infatti non corrisponde a rendere la comunicazione efficace, né per i mediatori in ambito legale né nel contesto della mediazione interculturale.

L’articolo di Cecilia Wadensjö chiude questo numero speciale di inTRAlinea. Il contributo della studiosa alla ricerca sull’interpretazione come interazione è più che noto e in questa pubblicazione Wadensjö si dedica a un altro dei temi trattati da Francesco, ossia le sequenze di riparazione, ma sviluppandolo nel contesto dei colloqui con richiedenti asilo. Contrariamente a quanto avviene nel talk show, dove le sequenze di riparazione assumono una funzione umoristica, nei colloqui con richiedenti asilo esse rischiano di ostacolare lo scambio di informazioni. Ciò sembra derivare dal fatto che in tali colloqui la riparazione non proceda in modo fluido a causa delle molteplici attività che il rappresentante dell’istituzione porta avanti simultaneamente (porre le domande, valutare possibili incoerenze nel racconto del richiedente, scrivere il verbale) e della presenza di due lingue, fattori che, contrariamente a quanto avviene nelle interazioni monolingui, rendono arduo verificare quale sia il significato che gli interlocutori attribuiscono ai vari elementi che compongono il processo di riparazione con il rischio che si creino incomprensione o malintesi.

I dieci contributi qui raccolti evidenziano le sfide con cui l’interprete si confronta in svariati tipi di interazione e contesti. L’approccio che unisce tutti gli articoli è di tipo descrittivo declinato in modi diversi a seconda che si tratti di descrivere le pratiche interpretative di apprendenti-interpreti, le competenze interazionali, le strategie di attribuzione di senso a ciò che viene detto, la ripetizione, le sequenze di riparazione e la negoziazione del turno, la funzione dello sguardo e della gestualità. Sebbene nessuno dei contributi presenti veri e propri materiali didattici – cosa di cui si avverte sicuramente la necessità in ambito accademico e non solo –, tutti offrono spunti concreti che potranno consentire di portare in classe l’autenticità del dato reale a beneficio degli studenti e delle studentesse di interpretazione arricchendo così il loro percorso formativo. Come ricercatore e come docente, Francesco ha sempre scritto e operato per allontanare l’insegnamento dell’interpretazione dal prescrittivismo e avvicinarlo invece all’osservazione dell’interprete in azione nel mondo reale, ossia della “genuine interpreter performance in action” (Straniero Sergio 1999a: 324).

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In his contribution to a well-known collection edited by Ian Mason and published in the journal The Translator in 1999, Francesco Straniero Sergio wrote:

What is needed is a new awareness of the interpreter’s social competence, i.e. how his or her communicative competence is enacted in the form of appropriate conversational behaviour. For this to happen, a shift from cognitive to socio-linguistic research is necessary (Straniero Sergio 1999a: 323)

Francesco had achieved a new awareness of the interpreter’s activity as a social agent not only by getting in touch with the most recent literature on interaction, but also through his own experience, on the field, as a professional interpreter. By interpreting in specialised settings, like the media setting, he could concretely appreciate how interpreters engage and actively participate in the interaction, operating within and contributing to the social context of the ongoing bilingual talk. Francesco’s awareness became a full-fledged research program, published for the first time in a paper called “Verso una sociolinguistica interazionale dell’interpretazione" ("Toward an Interactional Sociolinguistics of Interpreting") (Straniero Sergio 1999b) and included in a volume dedicated to new perspectives in simultaneous and consecutive interpreting teaching. Needless to say, in the extremely traditional and traditionalist environment foregrounding research on conference interpreting at the time, the paper was not fully understood. Nowadays, it appears farsighted, almost visionary. Francesco implemented his program with no hesitation and much curiosity and passion.

The contributions to this special issue of inTRAlinea develop the theories and concepts that Francesco pioneered.  Simply going through the titles of his papers and volumes, a full list of which is provided just following this introduction, one can appreciate the relevance he attributed to the specific context of interpreting and the roles of the interlocutors in the interpreted talk, the interactional dynamics manifested through verbal and nonverbal communication, the interpreters’ positioning as a result of their own and others' agency, and finally interpreting quality seen as the product of the specific conditions in which interpretation takes place rather than as the virtuoso display of a single performer.

Twenty-six years after these papers were published and fourteen years after he left us, this InTRAlinea special issue is intended to pay tribute to the work of Francesco by giving evidence that the direction of research in Interpreting Studies that he contributed to outline is now spread and growing successfully. There are several aspects of Francesco’s research that this issue addresses. First and foremost, all the collected papers show ways in which interpreters manifest their social competence in specific and specialised interactional environments.

Five papers explore media settings like press conferences, talk shows, interviews and public speeches. The media setting is the one encompassing most of Francesco’s research. It was by looking at interpreted media events that Francesco noted the interpreter’s exercise of agency in participating in the show by making interpreting processes and performance part of the show. It was the media setting that Francesco explored at length, painstakingly collecting data which could provide comparable instances of media interpreting and that constitute what is now known as the CorIT corpus, one of the largest archives of media interpreting in the world. The collective volume Breaking Ground in Corpus-based Interpreting Studies, published posthumously in 2012 (Straniero Sergio and Falbo 2012), contains Francesco’s reflections on media interpreting as a representable eco-system.

The remaining five contributions concentrate on interpreting in healthcare, administrative (asylum seekers), and educational settings. While not related to interpreting in and for the media, they focus on the interactional dimension of interpreting which constituted a key methodological concept in Francesco’s research. Some papers look at repetition as an element of cohesion and coherence in co-produced discourse, a topic which Francesco addressed in a paper called "Repetition in Dialogue Interpreting" (Straniero Sergio 2012a) and of his latest, yet-to-be-published monograph. As for the relationship between interpretation and mediation, the very title of Francesco’s 2007 monograph, Talkshow Interpreting: la mediazione linguistica nella conversazione-spettacolo, addresses mediation as the ability, intrinsic to interpreting processes, to adapt discourse to specific communicative situations and to the interactional dynamics of talk. But a much previous paper, “Notes on cultural mediation” (Straniero Sergio 1998), already highlighted some of the key points of the debate on mediation that developed subsequently.

Francesco’s work as well as the papers collected in this issue show that “mere interpreting”, as the translation activity of interpreters is sometimes called, is simply “not interpreting”. Interpreting involves a complex of mechanisms by which interpreters make and give sense to the others’ talk and theirs, coordinate participation and participate in the interaction in appropriately contextualised ways, by facilitating mutual understanding of those interlocutors who do not speak each other language. Interpreting involves agency (Baraldi 2023) and the exercise of discretion (Skaaden 2023), and, in this sense, as Wadensjö (1998: 106) puts it: “it is not an empirical question whether interpreters are translators or mediators - they cannot avoid being both”. This collection of papers shows that mediating is part and parcel of interpreting and accounts for the interpreters’ orientation to the context in which they (inter)act.

This special issue is trilingual, French, English and Italian, and this introduction too is provided in both English and Italian. This choice was made to maintain language variety because a variety of languages is fundamental to preserve the cultural richness that diversity entails. Interpreting and translation are still one of the strongest means we have to preserve linguistic richness and, in many ways, an instrument to achieve multilingual societies (Cook 2010). Francesco, in his work (for example Straniero Sergio 2012b), suggested that two (or more) languages on stage raise a number of interesting points for the audience and make the choice of speaking in different languages an enjoyable opportunity in the show.

Most of the ten papers collected in this special issue were first delivered during a commemoration day held at what is now called the Department of Legal, Language, Interpreting and Translation Studies of Trieste University (30-1/03/2023), where Francesco studied and worked. As mentioned above the first five papers analyse media settings or public events that is situations in which interpreting involves an overhearing public.

In the first article, Emanuele Brambilla analyses, twenty years later, the simultaneous interpretations performed during the 2022 Formula One press conferences, adopting the approach developed by Francesco in a 2003 article (Straniero Sergio 2003). Brambilla’s corpus is much smaller than Francesco’s (three press conferences) and features one interpreter only. The author, however identifies some of the strategies and goals that were found in Francesco's work, namely the use of so-called emergency strategies and the primary goal of entertaining the audience. Brambilla also shows that Francesco's observations regarding the complexity of interpreting in the Formula One context were true. He shows, however, that his interpreter’s familiarity with the specific context, as well as expertise in technical concepts and terms, allow him to exercise agency over linguistic choices and thus achieve an appreciable level of quality.

In the second paper in the collection, Raffaela Merlini and Laura Picchio examine different types of interpreted occurrences in the context of the Giffoni Film Festival, an international cinema event for children and adolescents, taking place in the town of Giffoni (Salerno province, Southern Italy). Intersecting the concept of footing and that of positioning, Merlini ad Picchio compare streamed and non-streamed events showing the impact of streaming on the positioning of the host, the guest and the interpreter. Streamed events collocate the guest in a predominant position and the interpreter somehow aside, while non-streamed events look much more dynamic and dialogic. This difference in positioning affects the interactional dynamics of interpreting, which, in turn, contribute to create distance or closeness between the guest(s) and the young public.

Shanì Harari, Amalia Amato and Gabriele Mack, in the third contribution to this collection, work on what has been a key issue in Francesco’s research (Straniero Sergio 2007), that is interpreting as a situated activity in the (talk) show and in the context of what he referred to as the industry of entertainment. The paper extends the research scope to the visual dimension including analysis of gaze, facial expressions and gesticulations not only to coordinate turns at talk, but also to participate in joking, teasing and mimicking. The study then not only confirms Francesco’s findings, but it highlights how multimodal interpreting practices contribute, together with verbal behaviour, to show-making. The conclusion of Harari and colleagues is that far from being invisible, interpreters participate “visibly” in the show, making professionally contextualised choices.

The visibility of the interpreter in the talk show is also the object of the fourth paper in the collection, by Antonella Sannolla, Natacha Niemants and Gabriele Mack. In this case, interpreting is provided in the simultaneous modality, through an off-camera voice. The interpreter is thus offstage, completely unseen by the audience, but is made visible both by the other participants’ reference to the person behind the voice and by his own turn-taking coordination devices as well as responses to the participants’ solicitations to “reveal himself” for the audience entertainment.

The last paper in the first set of five, by Han Wang e Mariachiara Russo focuses again on multimodal analysis, but in this case interpreting is provided in the consecutive modality with the interpreter using visual practices to coordinate the speakers’ contributions and theirs. The data for the authors’ multimedia analysis of consecutive interpreting practices are public events available on YouTube and Weibo, drawn from the Italian-Chinese CIPEs corpus. Specifically, the authors look at segmentation (chunking) of speech, highlighting the ways in which transition points are negotiated from the primary interlocutor to the interpreter and vice versa. Wang and Russo introduce their analysis of the selected corpus with a broad overview of the main issues in corpus studies and interpreting corpora, thus developing one of the latest topics Francesco addressed in his research.

The second set of five papers includes analyses of dialogue interpreting in public settings (healthcare consultations, parent-teacher meetings at school and asylum seeking encounters) and in interpreter-training settings with a view on learners’ interpreting practices. The first paper of this set, by Daniele Urlotti, explores a type of sequence that was central to Francesco’s latest inquiries, that is sequences involving repetitions in interpreted talk. The interpreters in Urlotti’s data are so-called intercultural mediators providing interpreting service between doctors and patients and parents and teachers and the object of the study is interpreters’ repetitions of their interlocutors’ turns at talk. The paper shows that interpreters’ repetitions are used with migrant patients or parents to double-check the service users’ and their own understanding of the information discussed. In a context that is highly unfamiliar to the migrant interlocutors and in which English is spoken as a second language, repetitions show up as a way to check what the patient/parent actually wants to say, without introducing language alternatives which may create further difficulty in the interaction.

Repetition is also the object of the contribution of Pascale Janot and Caterina Falbo. In this case, the authors do not look at interpreters’ repetitions, but at interpreters’ requests for their interlocutors to repeat what they have just said. The data Janot and Falbo analyse are data from a teaching/learning context in which interpreting students are trained to interpret in role-played dialogic situations. The authors show that the forms and functions of requests that the interpreting-students use to get a repetition of what was said by their interlocutors, trigger different types of sequences, mainly repair sequences, and throw light on the students’ mastery of both the French language and the interactional dynamics in which they act as interpreters.

The interpreters’ involvement in sensitive specialised areas is the topic discussed in Anne Delizée’ contribution, a study of interpreted interaction in mental healthcare. Combining a thematic analysis of interviews to the participants with an analysis of their encounters, Delizée discusses the participants’ expectations of interpreters’ relational involvement. She looks at the ways in which the participants position the interpreter in talk, and the interpreter complies with the interlocutors’ expectations. Far from being a “detached” participant, the interpreter is “positioned”, by both patients and medical staff, as someone who participates, even emotionally, in the patients’ narratives so that a relationship of trust is generated for these narratives to be fully understood, rendered and treated.

Claudio Baraldi and Laura Gavioli’s study offers a reflection on the meaning of mediating in interpreting carried out in healthcare settings by intercultural mediators. They use concepts taken from studies of monolingual legal dispute resolution in which mediating is the sole task of the participating mediator. They show that in either the work of bilingual mediators in Italian healthcare and that of mediators in dispute resolutions, mediating does not coincide with advocating, not even in the legal setting. Mediators, both legal and intercultural, use relaying practices, that while repeating what the participants said, do not replace that participant, rather they facilitate both participants to intervene and talk to each other. Replacing one of the participants does not appear, in either dispute resolutions or intercultural mediation, to facilitate communication.

The last paper in the collection is a contribution by Cecilia Wadensjö, an author whose influence on studies about interpreting as interaction is well-known. Wadensjö takes up another topic in Francesco’s research, that is repair in interpreted talkshows and analyses repair sequences in asylum seeking interviews. Differently from the talkshow context in which repair has mainly teasing, humoristic functions, asylum seeking interviews show dynamics putting information exchange at risk. Both the case officer’s multiple and simultaneous tasks (interviewing, evaluating the possible inconsistencies in the applicant’s narrative and typing the minutes) and the bilingual nature of the interpreted encounter make it difficult for the three interlocutors to carry out repair smoothly, since identifying how they are understood – or misunderstood – by their respective counterparts my not be as clear as in monolingual conversation.

In conclusion, the ten papers in this collection show the challenges that interpreters meet in a variety of types of interaction, from media events to public service. They use a descriptive approach, including description of learners’ interpreting, interactional capacities, meaning-making strategies, practices of repeat, repair and turn-taking negotiation, use of register, vocabulary, gaze and posture. While none of the papers in the collection provides teaching materials, a task that still needs to be implemented, they offer concrete ground for developing interpreting-learners’ skills as observed in authentic interaction. This approach seems to accomplish one of Francesco’s desired direction to move interpreter training out of prescriptive rules and into guidelines based on observation of “genuine interpreter performance in action” (Straniero Sergio 1999a: 324).

About the author(s)

Caterina Falbo is full professor of French language in the Department of Legal Studies, Language, Interpreting and Translation (IUSLIT) at the University of Trieste (Italy). She teaches conference and dialogue interpreting between French and Italian. Her research interests focus mainly on the analysis of interpreter-mediated interactions in the legal, healthcare and media settings as well as on the teaching of dialogue and conference interpretation. Among the research projects she participated in, it is worth remembering Avidicus III, TransLaw – Exploring Legal Interpreting Service Paths and Transcultural Law Clinics for persons suspected or accused of crime and TRAMIG – Training newly arrived migrants for community interpreting and intercultural mediation.

Laura Gavioli is Professor of English language and translation at the University of Modena and Reggio Emilia, Italy, where she teaches in BA, MA and PhD courses. Her research work includes the study of spoken language in institutional settings and cross-cultural pragmatics in intercultural/multicultural settings. She has been engaged in research exploring authentic data of interpreter-mediated conversations involving speakers (not necessarily native-speakers) of English and Italian, mainly in healthcare services. Together with Claudio Baraldi, she edited the volume Coordinating Participation in Dialogue Interpreting (Benjamins, 2012) and a special issue of Health Communication (36/9 2021). With Cecilia Wadensjö, she has co-edited the Routledge Handbook of Public Service Interpreting published in 2023.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

Keywords:

STRANIERO SERGIO, Francesco (1992) Nel nome di Vladimir Il'ic: Analisi retorico-argomentativa della figura di Lenin nei discorsi di M.S.Gorbacev, Udine, Campanotto.

------ (1995) “Analisi contrastiva e interpretazione simultanea”, Il Traduttore Nuovo 1: 27–35.

------ (1997) “La produzione della produzione prodotta: ovvero tautologie e catene nominali nell'interpretazione simultanea dal russo in italiano” in Nuovi orientamenti negli studi sull’interpretazione, Laura Gran and Alessandra Riccardi (eds), SERT 3, Università degli studi di Trieste: 159–77.

------ (1997) Interpretazione simultanea russo-italiano. Fondamenti teorici e applicazioni pratiche, Trieste, Edizioni Goliardiche.

------ (1997) “Traduzione scritta e traduzione orale: un approccio pragmatico”, Slavica Tergestina 5: 397–414.

------ (1997) “Transfer competence in simultaneous interpretation from Russian into Italian. A contrastive approach”, Transferre Necesse Est, Budapest, Scholastica: 242–6.

------ (1998) “Notes on Cultural Mediation”, The Interpreters’ Newsletter 8: 151–168.

------ (1998) “Esercizi di agilità mentale in traduzione”, Rivista Internazionale di Tecnica delle Traduzioni 3: 81­–92.

------ (1998) “Pedagogic Context vs. Communicative Context in the Teaching of Interpretation and Psychological Problems”, II Estudios sobre traduccion e interpretacion, Malaga, Centro de Ediciones de la Deputacion de Malaga: 833–8.

------ (1999) “Qualità e setting pedagogico” in Quality Forum: Esperienze, Problemi, Prospettive Maurizio Viezzi (ed.), Trieste EUT: 1-17.

------ (1999) “Modalità enunciativa e presa di note” in Interpretazione simultanea e consecutiva. Problemi teorici e metodologie didattiche, Caterina Falbo, Mariachiara Russo and Francesco Straniero Sergio (eds), Milano, Hoepli: 299–310.

------ (1999) “Dalla langue de bois all'anglorusskij. Note sull'evoluzione del linguaggio economico russo” in Didattica delle lingue di specialità: problemi e difficoltà traduttive, Christopher Taylor (ed.), Trieste, STEA: 203–33.

------ (1999) “The Interpreter on the (Talk) Show: Interaction and Participation Frameworks”, The Translator 5, no. 2: 303–26.

------ (1999) “O roli recevych sub'ektov pri ustnom i pis'mennom producirovanii tekstov”, Studia Russica  IV-V: 227–44.

------ (1999) “Verso una sociolinguistica interazionale dell’interpretazione” in Interpretazione simultanea e consecutiva. Problemi teorici e metodologie didattiche, Caterina Falbo, Mariachiara Russo and Francesco Straniero Sergio (eds), Milano, Hoepli: 103–29.

------ (1999) “I (Paolo) Limiti dell'Interpretazione ovvero i mediatori antagonisti del testo televisivo” in 1° Convegno AITLA (Associazione Italiana di Linguistica Applicata), Pisa, AITLA: 10–30.

------ (2003) “Norms and Quality in Media Interpreting: The Case of Formula One Press Conferences, The Interpreters’ Newsletter 12: 135–74.

------ (2004) “Media Interpreting e la creazione di un laboratorio didattico sulla qualità” in Tradurre non è interpretare, Paul Kroker and Bruno Osimo (eds), Firenze, Alinea: 129–31.

------ (2005) “Equivalenza, formato dialogico e interpretazione” in Beyond Equivalence, Nike Kocijancic Pokorn, Erich Prunc and Alessandra Riccardi (eds), Graz, University of Graz: 195–208.

------ (2006) “Aspetti morfosintattici e sociolinguistici dell'influenza dell'inglese sulla lingua russa”, Rivista Internazionale di Tecnica delle Traduzioni 9: 63­–73.

------ (2007) Talkshow Interpreting. La mediazione linguistica nella conversazione-spettacolo, Trieste, Edizioni Università di Trieste.

------ (2008) Elementi di grammatica contrastiva russo-italiano, Roma Aracne.

------ (2012) “Repetition in Dialogue Interpreting” in Interpreting across Genres: Multiple Research Perspectives, Cynthia J. Kellett Bidoli (dir.), Trieste, EUT Edizioni Università di Trieste: 27–53,

URL : [url=https://www.openstarts.units.it/handle/10077/7371]https://www.openstarts.units.it/handle/10077/7371[/url]

------ (2012) “‘You are not too funny’. Challenging the Role of the Interpreter on Italian Talkshows” in Coordinating Participation in Dialogue Interpreting, Claudio Baraldi and Laura Gavioli (eds), Philadelphia/Amsterdam, John Benjamins: 71–97.

Katan, David and Francesco Straniero Sergio (2001) “Look Who's Talking: The Ethics of Entertainment and Talkshow Interpreting”, The Translator 7, no. 2: 213–37.

------ (2003) “Submerged Ideologies in Media Interpreting” in Apropos of Ideologies, Maria Calzada-Perez (ed.), Manchester, St. Jerome: 131–44.

Straniero Sergio, Francesco and Caterina Falbo (2012) “Studying interpreting through corpora. An introduction” in Breaking Ground in Corpus-based Interpreting Studies, Francesco Straniero Sergio and Caterina Falbo (eds), Frankfurt am Main, Peter Lang: 9–52.

------ (eds) (2012) Breaking Ground in Corpus-based Interpreting Studies, Frankfurt am Main, Peter Lang.

About the author(s)

Caterina Falbo is full professor of French language in the Department of Legal Studies, Language, Interpreting and Translation (IUSLIT) at the University of Trieste (Italy). She teaches conference and dialogue interpreting between French and Italian. Her research interests focus mainly on the analysis of interpreter-mediated interactions in the legal, healthcare and media settings as well as on the teaching of dialogue and conference interpretation. Among the research projects she participated in, it is worth remembering Avidicus III, TransLaw – Exploring Legal Interpreting Service Paths and Transcultural Law Clinics for persons suspected or accused of crime and TRAMIG – Training newly arrived migrants for community interpreting and intercultural mediation.

Laura Gavioli is Professor of English language and translation at the University of Modena and Reggio Emilia, Italy, where she teaches in BA, MA and PhD courses. Her research work includes the study of spoken language in institutional settings and cross-cultural pragmatics in intercultural/multicultural settings. She has been engaged in research exploring authentic data of interpreter-mediated conversations involving speakers (not necessarily native-speakers) of English and Italian, mainly in healthcare services. Together with Claudio Baraldi, she edited the volume Coordinating Participation in Dialogue Interpreting (Benjamins, 2012) and a special issue of Health Communication (36/9 2021). With Cecilia Wadensjö, she has co-edited the Routledge Handbook of Public Service Interpreting published in 2023.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

The present study pays tribute to Straniero Sergio’s (2003) analysis of simultaneous interpreting (SI) at Formula One Press Conferences (FPCs) by resuming the examination of this characteristic form of media interpreting twenty years after its inauguration. The corpus analysed is composed of three video-recordings of the EN>IT SIs of the press conferences that preceded the Grand Prix in Mexico, the United Arab Emirates and the USA in 2022. The recordings have been downloaded from the website of Sky Sport and transcribed using the Elan software. As the corpus is limited and contains performances by one interpreter only, it is analysed building on the data scrutinised and the findings outlined by Straniero Sergio (2003), who examined quality in the FPC context and illustrated the norms that characterise interpreting in this setting. Against the background of his analysis of FPCs, the present study yields apparently contradictory results: while, to a certain extent, omissions, generalisations, neutral finishes, parallel formulations and summarised renditions do appear to be used as emergency strategies, the interpreter’s turns stand out for his ability to translate technical terms and expressions accurately and effectively. Besides contextual knowledge, he displays procedural knowledge: strategies including the deliberate omission of hedges, the skilful use of repetitions to enhance clarity and the production of nominal sentences all enable the interpreter to keep up with the fast pace of delivery and make up for the difficulties that notoriously render the FPC ‘a terrible experience for interpreters’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 139).

Keywords: Formula One Press Conference FPC, interview, simultaneous interpreting, speed, Thursday Press Conference TPC

1. Introduction

Source speech delivery rate has always been acknowledged in Interpreting Studies as one of the major challenges faced by simultaneous interpreters. Gile (1995: 192) includes a high rate of delivery of the source speech among the most frequent sources of interpreting problems, noting that when a speaker produces a rapid speech, it can be seen as a cognitive problem trigger in that the interpreter’s speech is paced by the speaker. With her experimental study, Pio (2003) also investigates the relation between source speech delivery rate and quality in simultaneous interpreting, concluding that ‘when facing rapidly read out STs [source texts], interpreters may tend to lengthen their EVS [ear-voice span] as well as to shorten their distance from the speaker in order to lose the least information possible and not to undermine their performance in terms of quality’ (Pio 2003: 98). More recent studies on speed include Barghout, Ruiz Rosendo and Varela García (2015) and Dose (2020) who, by means of an experimental and a corpus-based study respectively, both examine professional interpreters’ choice of strategies when interpreting fast-paced speeches.

In his 2003 seminal paper on simultaneous interpreting at Formula One Press Conferences, Straniero Sergio also focuses on speed and notes that the communicative context at issue, in which ‘interviewer and interviewee share the same language [and] answers follow questions without interruptions’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 141), is governed by the rules of speed just as the racetrack is.

The absence of inter-turn pauses together with a very high rate of speed put interpreters in the position of always being late. (Straniero Sergio 2003: 141)

The adverb always, used by Straniero Sergio in relation to the interpreters’ chronic delay and highlighted in italics in the original manuscript, reveals the aim of that 2003 study, namely the identification of norms or ‘regularities of translational behaviour’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 136) in the context of Formula One Press Conferences and beyond.

Straniero Sergio’s 2003 paper presents the analysis of a series of simultaneous interpretations (SIs) from English into Italian at Formula One Press Conferences (abbreviated FPCs), which were given after each Grand Prix. The recordings of FPCs are included in a larger ‘corpus on Media Interpreting (MI), made up of 1200 interpreters’ performances’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 135-136) pertaining to the two genres of talk shows and media events. He examines 80 performances by 11 professional media interpreters and describes the distinctive interpreting context of the FPC, an instance of ‘“professional-lay discourse” […] which addresses an undifferentiated mass audience within an entertainment logic’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 167), and which is characterised by dialogicity, brevity, intertextuality and rituality (Straniero Sergio 2003: 136-137). The ‘interviewer (voice-off)’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 137) chats with the F1 drivers in English (dialogicity) while the interpreter does not share their context of situation; ‘each conference lasts four minutes’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 136) and is characterised by few questions and ‘very short turns’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 136) (brevity); thematically, references are regularly made to what happened during the race (intertextuality) and this type of interaction recurs ‘fortnightly, throughout the whole season’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 137) (rituality).

Building on these contextual premises, Straniero Sergio discovers that the FPC is ‘a terrible experience for […] interpreters’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 139). Emergency strategies, including parallel formulations (Gile 1995: 201), summarised renditions (Wadensjö 1998: 108) and generalisations become the norm in this context (Straniero Sergio 2003: 140), as interpreters must keep up with the ‘frantic pace’ of speech delivery, interpret the drivers’ messages ‘not […] correctly but convincingly well’ and produce ‘an apparently smooth and coherent discourse’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 172).

The norm here in the real interpreting world is the rendition of the essentials. (Straniero Sergio 2003: 170)

Providing and thoroughly expounding 109 examples, Straniero Sergio’s 2003 analysis gifts his readership with a detailed and riveting tale of what interpreting at Formula One Press Conferences means and entails, a tale that is still a point of reference for interpreting scholars.

2. Corpus, methodology and aim

The present paper builds on a ‘new’ corpus of simultaneous interpretations from English into Italian, which was assembled with a view to carrying on the study inaugurated by Straniero Sergio and investigating whether the nature of interpreting in the context of the FPC has changed over the past few decades. Compared to the data gathered and analysed by Straniero Sergio, the corpus that has enabled the present study is smaller, to use a euphemism. It is composed of three video recordings of the SIs of the ‘Thursday Press Conferences’ (TPCs) held in 2022 in Austin, Mexico City and Abu Dhabi ahead of the Sunday races. The videos of the interactions in English have also been downloaded and included in the corpus, whose details are displayed in Table 1.

Table 1: Details of the corpus

As shown in Table 1, besides the video-recordings of the interpretations into Italian of the TPCs, the original, English-language press conferences have been downloaded to enable the contrastive analysis of source-text (ST) and interpreted-text (IT) material. The two types of recordings are indicated with _EN and _IT, respectively. While the recording of the conference in English is split into two videos, the recording of the SI into Italian is found in a single video. For the Austin TPC in English, only the recording of the second part of the press conference was found and downloaded from the web.

The corpus is limited in size because the video-recordings of Formula One Press Conferences are not easy to retrieve from the internet, especially those featuring the SI into Italian. The videos have been downloaded from the website of Sky Sport, which, however, only provides few incomplete recordings (the same holds true for YouTube) that have been cut and reduced in length by the broadcaster itself. The TPC approximately lasts one hour but, as Table 1 shows, roughly half of the conference is made available by Sky Sport on their website and on YouTube. At given points in the recording, a notice appears informing users that ‘The next section of this Press Conference is for written media use only and not for broadcast’; advertisements and reports on the race, the cars, the teams and the pilots follow, preceding further bits of the press conference. In this respect, the length of the _IT recordings as indicated in Table 1 is an approximate sum of the durations of each portion in which the press conference is shown. For instance, the Austin_IT video lasts two hours and fourteen minutes, but the press conference is only shown between minutes 26:00-43:00 and 01:48:00-02:02:46, totalling 32 minutes of recording in which the SI of the TPC can be listened to.

In light of the hurdles in retrieving complete, authentic audiovisual material from the internet, the best option for future research would be that of recording the whole press conferences from pay-per-view satellite television platforms, such as Sky, which provide their users with the chance to record TV programmes.

A few additional remarks concerning the specific communicative context of the TPC are in order to outline what differentiates it from the FPCs examined and described by Straniero Sergio (2003). The weekend of the Grand Prix actually starts on Thursday with the TPC. The main difference between TPCs and the conferences analysed and illustrated by Straniero Sergio lies in the fact that the former are given before each Grand Prix, which determines a slight difference in the themes addressed. Owing to the fact that the TPC is held before the race, the interviewer does not congratulate the winners, ask them to express their feelings about the race or talk of the most exciting moments of the race (Straniero Sergio 2003: 137), but rather asks questions about previous races, investigates team strategies and enquires about the drivers’ pre-race feelings and expectations.

Despite these thematic differences, the TPC is also characterised by rituality, in that it ‘is a regular event which takes place […] throughout the season’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 137). Moreover, it is also characterised by intertextuality, because the interaction is based on continuous references to what happened during the previous race and what could, could not, should or should not happen in the following.

The interaction format of the TPC does not differ much from that of the FPCs explored by Straniero Sergio: the TPC also ‘belongs to the “interview” genre and, more specifically, “the press conference format”’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 136), thereby being characterised by dialogicity. The interviewer is off-screen and only the drivers can be seen. Yet, as Straniero Sergio (2003: 136) maintains in relation to FPCs, ‘unlike Conference Interpreting, there is no shared situationality’ and ‘interpreters have no access to the primary participants who are totally unaware that in Rome [in this case, in Milan] a SI of their interview is going on’. This holds true for a variety of media interpreting events, which are ‘often characterized by displaced situationality’ (Viezzi 2013: 384). The drivers in the TPC first answer a series of questions asked by one journalist, the interviewer, who does not appear on screen and later take questions from the floor, composed of various journalists working for different newspapers or TV channels. Notably, these latter interactions are often cut in the Sky Sport videos, which predominantly show the interaction between the interviewer and the drivers.

While the 2022 TPCs and the FCPs recorded by Straniero Sergio between the late 1990s and the early 2000s can be said, with certain reservations, to be both characterised by dialogicity, intertextuality and rituality, they cannot be said to share the feature of brevity. Notably, the TPC is another type of conference, different from those described in Straniero Sergio (2003). They are often subject to changes: in 2017, the conference saw eight drivers divided into two groups of four and talking for approximately 25 minutes^[1]; yet, this ‘new’ format was soon changed, and since 2022 the conference has seen two groups composed of five Formula One pilots who answer questions for approximately 55 minutes^[2]. Hence, the TPCs are comparatively longer than the FPCs held twenty years ago.

The videos of the SIs of the TPCs have been transcribed using the Elan software (Brugman and Russel 2004) and adopting the transcription conventions listed in Straniero Sergio (2007: 22-23) and adapted as shown in Table 2.

Table 2: Transcription conventions, adapted from Straniero Sergio (2007: 22-23)

Despite the presence of both STs and ITs in the corpus, as in Straniero Sergio (2003) the interactions in English have not been transcribed and excerpts from the edited transcriptions^[3] will be shown in the following section, in that the analysis of the spoken features of the journalist’s and drivers’ turns is beyond the scope of the present paper.

In particular, the same transcription method used by Straniero Sergio (2003) has been used in this study and examples from the corpus will be presented the way he presented his examples.

Fig. 1: Excerpt drawn from Straniero Sergio (2003: 143)

Q indicates a question by the interviewer, A indicates an answer by a driver and INTERPRETER signals the interpreter’s rendition of the preceding textual content. For STs, the edited transcription is shown, while for ITs, the transcription exported from Elan by the author of the present paper and covering a variety of speech features (e.g. false starts, pauses and vowel lengthening) is displayed. Question marks also appear in the transcription to help the reader understand that a question is being asked. Moreover, a retranslation into English of the interpreter’s turns is provided between square brackets in the following sections. At the end of each excerpt, the place of the Grand Prix and, hence, of the interview, is indicated. The name of the F1 pilot who produces the turn is also specified.

The aim of the present study does not differ much from that pursued by Straniero Sergio (2003); this investigation also focuses on the assessment of quality and the identification of norms, but only insofar as its results are not considered in isolation but linked to those outlined by Straniero Sergio. This is because the corpus only includes the performances by one media interpreter, and this prevents the study from bearing any statistical significance. Incidentally, the name of the interpreter working for Sky Sport Italia is Salvatore Torrisi; details about his academic background, professional career and passion for interpreting can be read in an article that reports an interview with him and that is entitled ‘Quando il lavoro è passione. Intervista a Salvatore Torrisi, interprete di Sky’^[4].

Given the limited size of the corpus and the presence of only one interpreter, the broader aim of the present study could simply be said to be that of resuming the investigation of the FPC interpreting context twenty years after its inauguration by Straniero Sergio. As suggested earlier, unlike Straniero Sergio’s 2003 study, the present paper will not show 109 excerpts or usher in the examination of an uncharted interpreting context. Rather, it merely aims at enabling readers to cast a contemporary glance at an interpreting context that was already explored and described accurately at the dawn of the new millennium.

3. Findings

By watching a Thursday Press Conference, the fact that – as in all FPCs – ‘the interaction takes place in a relaxed and informal atmosphere’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 139) can be observed. This can also be inferred from Figure 2, displaying a snapshot of a TPC.

Fig. 2: Picture of a 2022 Thursday Press Conference

The Thursday Press Conference follows a script: the drivers are divided into two groups of five, they sit in line next to each other and they are asked a minimum of two questions in turn, either from left to right or viceversa. The first question generally entails a digression from the main topic, that is the Sunday race, as each driver is asked something about his arrival to the venue, his passion for other sports, his new haircut, and the like. The second question introduces the audience to the main theme, that of the Sunday race. It is a more technical question, concerning the forthcoming race and the previous one, too. In this part of the interaction, the use of ‘FPC jargon […] characterized by the presence of technical terms’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 137) stands out; FPC jargon comprises not only technical terms but also verbs and expressions that describe driving, ‘the speed, the movement of cars and the actions taken by drivers’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 137) and their teams.

Example [1] is drawn from the transcription of one of the first questions asked during a TPC, which always trigger an informal digression. In particular, it is an excerpt from the Abu Dhabi conference: driver George Russell, who has recently won his first Grand Prix, is asked a question about the party he and other drivers were supposed to have on the plane from Brazil to Abu Dhabi.

When asked the question ‘How was the party on the flight here?’, driver George Russell answers that the plane was late, he was knackered, he slept a lot because it was a tough race and, therefore, celebrations were put on hold until the following Sunday. As [1] indicates, the interpreter struggles to translate this interaction. He makes no mention of the flight when translating the question, omits any references to sleeping and misinterprets the fact that celebrations were postponed. In other words, his rendition is evidently characterised by a series of omissions and a sentence concluding the turn that could be interpreted either as a parallel formulation or a neutral finish. The recourse to parallel formulations and neutral finishes can be observed elsewhere in the corpus when the drivers are asked these first, general questions.

In [2], Sebastian Vettel is answering a question about the forthcoming weekend, which is particularly emotional for him as it is going to be his last as a Formula One driver. The turn is translated accurately but his closing thought, ‘and I’m happy about it, as far as I can be’, turns into a more general ‘e spero che: vada tutto bene’ (and I hope everything goes well).

In [3], driver Lewis Hamilton intervenes in the exchange between the interviewer and driver Alexander Albon, who was asked an innocent question about his newly blonde haircut, provocatively enquiring ‘Are you blonde everywhere?’. This question generates a certain embarrassment in the TPC and, apparently, the interpreter does not catch Hamilton’s inappropriate allusion, producing a turn in which omissions stick out. Moreover, when Alexander Albon answers that ‘the sides are blonde’, showing that all his head is blonde and steering the conversation to a less indecent dimension, the interpreter does not appear to grasp the speaker’s words and intentions, as he refrains from translating most of the source-speech turns and concludes his rendition with a vague ‘è tutto biondo (.) sono biondo ovunque’ (everything is blonde (.) I am blonde everywhere).

Broadly, examples [1], [2] and [3] suggest that a significant number of omissions, neutral finishes, parallel formulations and generalisations are likely to be observed in the translation of this first question-answer group, possibly because this question-answer group does not thematically focus on the race; its content is unpredictable, cannot be anticipated and the interpreter might have a hard time grasping and reproducing it. Omissions occur when the interpreter fails to grasp the extemporaneous and/or ridiculous themes of the conversation; moreover, as in Straniero Sergio’s data (2003), neutral finishes and parallel formulations often show up as they ‘allow interpreters to bring their utterances to an end’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 161) in emergency situations and ‘may be idiosyncratic’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 162).

Generally, technical jargon cannot be observed in this first, digressive conversational exchange. Yet, technical terms can crop up at any moment of the interaction, as shown in [4]. It reports the interpretation of the question that the journalist asked driver Esteban Ocon in Austin, and displays another example of how the interpreter handles the first digressive section of the interaction.

Example [4] shows that FPC jargon permeates the whole interaction between the interviewer and the drivers. Even though the topic of discussion is the Ballon d’Or ceremony, for instance a football event, a Formula One-related term is used, namely donut, an impressive manoeuvre performed while driving a vehicle. In this case, the interpreter displays familiarity with the term: he opts for preserving the anglicism in his output and provides an additional explanation of the term; however, the Italian expression fare le sgommate (meaning to squeal off, with the noun sgommate meaning either skid mark or tyre screech) is not enough to explain that the skid mark left by the car during a donut is circular.

Despite the occurrence of donut in [4], the presence of specialised lexicon is all the more evident in the second, technical question that the journalist asks the drivers. In relation to his corpus, Straniero Sergio notes that, when tackling FPC jargon, ‘Generalization is the prevailing strategy. Nearly all technical explanations are rendered with hyperonyms and generic terms’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 149). He adds that strategies to make up for a lack of understanding of technical passages include stereotyped formulas or rhetorical routines (Straniero Sergio 2003: 154) and parallel formulations (Straniero Sergio 2003: 159).

Fig. 3: Excerpt drawn from Straniero Sergio (2003: 167)

He observes, for instance, that the interpreter whose translation of a question-answer group is shown in Figure 3 did not grasp the acronym DNF (did not finish) and repeated the final part of the preceding question to say something, just to prevent communication from breaking down, which is one of the prerequisites of media interpreting. ‘If Rubens has one DNF, things could change around’ thus became ‘any chance to arrive second? Well, things could change around’.

The study of the small 2022 corpus of TPCs began with the hypothesis that the same interpreter behaviour noted in Straniero Sergio’s data would have been observed. Yet, the Sky Sport interpreter surprisingly shows himself to be at ease with technical terms. In fact, the acronym DNF, which also occurs frequently in the 2022 corpus, is always translated correctly. When, for example, driver Valtteri Bottas says ‘there’s obviously many DNFs’, the interpreter displays his familiarity with the technical term and translates ‘ci sono stati ovviamente tanti ritiri’ (there have obviously been many DNFs).

Example [6] sees Mick Schumacher using the technical term high downforce and, again, the interpreter translating the term accurately.

Example [7], containing the specialised expression to take the slipstream, also illustrates that the interpreter generally translates technical terms with ease, apparently resorting to ready-made solutions that seem to have been internalised through practice.

The many technical terms that are iterated in the corpus and that the interpreter regularly translates correctly without struggling include DNF (ritiro), flow (scorrevolezza), elevation change (cambi di pendenza), high-speed corners (curve ad alta velocità), front wing (ala anteriore), floor diffuser (diffusore per il fondo), lateral g (forze laterali g), option tyre (gomme più morbide), prime tyre (gomme più dure). The interpreter is also clearly acquainted with the translation of specialised expressions, including the systematic translation of ‘to score points’ with the idiomatic expressions ‘andare a punti’ and/or ‘arrivare a punti’, which in Italian are exclusively used in the context of Formula One races.

Examples [10] and [11] show that these Italian idiomatic expressions are used not only as equivalents of ‘to score points’ but also and more broadly to translate any formulation whereby the speakers refer to the actual or expected positive outcome of a race. Notably, example [11] also reports the English expression to be in the points, which, like the Italian ‘andare/arrivare a punti’, is also exclusively used in the context of racing.

Not only does the interpreter display familiarity with FPC jargon and the use of ‘stereotyped formulas’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 154)^[5], he also generally adopts an appropriate register and elegant expressions. This translation behaviour often results in register shifts, rendering the IT more formal or elegant than its English counterpart. In this respect, the fact that English is not the mother tongue of most drivers must be taken into account when analysing the corpus; the drivers are all proficient in English but their expressive choices are not always admirable from a pragmatic point of view. Take example [12]: Fernando Alonso is complaining about a controversial decision made by the FIA (Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile, in English International Automobile Federation), concerning a post-race protest by a rival team about the safety of his own car. According to Alonso, this protest was filed out of time, so he claims:

While Fernando Alonso sounds hesitant, his words take on a more powerful and evocative character when they are uttered by the Italian interpreter: with ‘sporgere un reclamo’ (to file a complaint) he proves his ability to select the most appropriate and elegant collocation; with ‘chi stabilisce quando è troppo tardi?’ (who decides when it is too late?) he emphasises the argumentative power and allusive force of Alonso’s invective; and with ‘è un vaso di Pandora che non vogliamo aprire’ (it is a Pandora’s box that we don’t want to open) he bestows a classical flavour on the speaker’s message.

Example [13] also displays a shift of register, together with a shift in perspective: as driver Max Verstappen vaguely complains about the fact that ‘I looked very bad, you know, in the media’, the interpreter turns his sentence from active to passive (‘sono stato dipinto come il cattivo della situazione nei media’, translatable as ‘I was depicted as the bad guy in the media’), thereby blaming the media for the way the driver was treated.

Despite a series of comprehensible omissions and difficulties, which appear to be due to the high rate of source-speech delivery, the interpreter often displays his ability to select appropriate translation equivalents for the idiomatic expressions that are used in the ST, as shown in example [14].

As a general rule, the interpreter appears to make use of a series of interaction-oriented strategies, which ‘favour mutual understanding and display the interpreter’s involvement and alignment towards primary speakers’ (Straniero Sergio 2012: 51) ‘and the audience’ (Straniero Sergio 2012: 46). One example is the ‘insertion of the affirmative reply sì (“yes”)’ (Straniero Sergio 2012: 41), used to exhibit the driver’s agreement with the interviewer’s opinion.

The interaction-oriented strategies that can be observed in the corpus also include repetitions (Straniero Sergio 2012). Notably, repetitions are also ‘an interactional resource through which the interpreter (as the second speaker) ensures cohesion and coherence among turns (mainly made up of questions and answers) produced by speakers of two different languages’ (Straniero Sergio 2012: 30). In his study of repetitions in dialogue interpreting, Straniero Sergio (2012) highlights that repetitions are also ‘comprehension-oriented, in that they serve to make utterances more intelligible for the audience and production-oriented, in that they facilitate the selection of translation equivalents, particularly in emergency situations’ (Straniero Sergio 2012: 51). These aspects can frequently be observed in the transcriptions of the Sky Sport interpreter’s renditions, as suggested, for instance, in example [4], where the interpreter selected two different options (‘le donuts le sgommate’) to translate the English term ‘donuts’. [16], which shows a comment uttered by driver Sebastian Vettel together with its interpreted version, provides a further insight into the interpreter’s use of repetitions:

When asked to choose one abiding memory from his Formula 1 career, Sebastian Vettel answers ‘I don’t think it’s fair to pick one. I guess the firsts, in a way, always stand out’. The interpreter straightforwardly translates this ‘firsts’ with ‘le prime’ and then feels the need to propose an alternative, clearer translation and specifies ‘le prime volte di ogni cosa’ (the first times of anything).

These repetitions, aiming at enhancing clarity, can be observed throughout the whole corpus. Some examples are shown below.

As illustrated in examples [17], [18] and [19], given lexical items often ‘double’ in translation, as the interpreter provides his Italian audience with two translation equivalents that improve the clarity of the drivers’ turns.

Regarding repetitions in the source – rather than interpreted – speech, a significant behaviour pattern stands out throughout the corpus, as the interpreter almost systematically omits one lexical or phrasal item of the interviewer’s and drivers’ repetitions, resorting to what appears to be an automatised strategy enabling him to save time and cognitive resources while producing a more elegant rendition.

In [20], driver Nicholas Latifi says he was determined ‘to enjoy each opportunity, to try to make the most of it’; he then adds that he wanted to enjoy the race without sweating or stressing (‘not sweat or stress’) ‘about the little stuff, or what seems like the little stuff’. The interpreter only preserves one linguistic element of both repetitions, omitting references to sweating and mentioning the little stuff only once (‘godermi ogni opportunità’, meaning ‘to enjoy each opportunity’; ‘senza stressarmi su quello che: eh possono sembrare dei piccoli dettagli’, translatable as ‘without stressing about wha:t seems like the little stuff’).

[21] and [22] show that the interpreter is used to ‘turning’ repetitions in the ST into single lexical items in the IT, thereby reducing the redundancy and prolixity of original utterances. In the light of their recurring character, the choices made by the interpreter to render source-text repetitions are likely to be the result of conscious decisions; therefore, they can be considered ‘deliberate omissions’ enabling him ‘to eliminate message redundancy’ (Korpal 2012: 103) and keep up with the pace of speech delivery.

The interpreter’s habit to ‘slim down’ the propositional content of the ST in the IT can also be observed in the frequent production of nominal sentences, which allow him to get rid of verb forms, save time and produce relatively concise sentences in Italian. Examples of this strategy are shown in [23], [24] and [25].

As regards the omission of redundant lexical and/or phrasal items, example [22] also suggests that certain expressive solutions, such as ‘let’s say’, are dismissed in the IT. The same happens in example [17], where ‘I guess’ is left out. Hedges, understood as a ‘manipulative non-direct strategy of saying less than one means’ (Hübler 1983: 23), are, indeed, systematically omitted. Among others, the pragmatic marker you know, used ‘in highly intersubjective contexts’ (Buysse 2017: 40) as an ‘intersubjective marker’ (Buysse 2017: 55), the markers I think and I mean (Östman 1981: 34), and the adverb obviously are almost regularly omitted, suggesting the implementation of an automatised strategy by the interpreter. Example [26] shows an excerpt drawn from Lewis Hamilton’s answer to a question concerning his predilection for the United States Grand Prix:

The verb ‘I think’ and the question ‘was it 2007?’ are hedges, forms of non-direct speech that reveal that Hamilton is not a hundred percent sure of the truthfulness of his utterances. These discursive elements that mitigate the impact of the speaker’s message disappear in the interpreter’s rendition, which sounds more direct and less hesitant.

As in example [26], in [27] a question that reflects a driver’s doubt is turned into an affirmative sentence (‘ci sono sedici punti tra di voi’, translatable as ‘there are sixteen points between you’), suggesting that the interpreter is aware that there are sixteen points between the two drivers in question. In [28], ‘I think’ is left out in the interpreter’s rendition, together with the adverb ‘honestly’. Examples [29] and [30] also bear witness to the fact that hedges are regularly omitted, but also show that the interpreter does not refrain from adding connectives (‘però’ and ‘perché’, meaning ‘however’ and ‘because’) that streamline the speaker’s argumentation and enhance the intelligibility of the message for the target audience. In this respect, the omission of hedges and the sporadic and sensible addition of connectives are indicators of the interpreter’s competence.

Regarding the systematic ‘elimination’ of hedges in the IT, a doubt arises as to whether these omissions be considered inappropriate from a pragmatic point of view. For sure, the preservation of some of these elements is advisable for the sake of pragmatics, because it would reflect the speakers’ attitudes towards their own utterances. Yet, as Barik (1971: 202) maintains, most omissions of pragmatic markers (like that of ‘you know’) are ‘inconsequential omissions’ that ‘are even desirable’. Other omissions, such as that of the question ‘was it 2007?’ in [26], however questionable, enable the interpreter to save time and cognitive resources in this highly demanding situation, also considering that the propositional content of the question is preserved in the IT, though in the form of an assertion. In this respect, these omissions can, to a certain extent, be considered ‘emergency strategies, i.e. strategies which usually are considered “last resort” but in this type of SI they become the norm’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 140). This is a further demonstration of what Straniero Sergio (2003: 170) maintains, namely that ‘the norm here […] is the rendition of the essentials’.

4. Conclusions

In light of the findings outlined in section 3, the present study can be said to corroborate the results outlined by Straniero Sergio (2003) in his seminal investigation of simultaneous interpreting at Formula One Press Conferences. Emergency strategies such as omissions, generalisations, neutral finishes, parallel formulations and summarised renditions can still be observed, because they are the interpreting norm in the context of the FPC (Straniero Sergio 2003: 140); they are essential for the interpreter to keep up with the rapid pace of speech delivery and sum up information in a context where technical discussions about cars and races are both accelerated and rendered more informal by the rules of TV infotainment.

However, based on the present study, the TPC cannot be said to be a terrible experience for the Sky Sport interpreter, unlike what Straniero Sergio (2003: 139) argues in relation to his larger corpus of SIs during FPCs. This finding concerning the overall quality of the SI broadcast on the Sky Sport channel is, therefore, in contrast with those that Straniero Sergio (2003) outlines in his study. Yet, what emerges from this investigation actually confirms his findings. Straniero Sergio (2003: 170) describes a similar study by Romeo (2001), who noted that in her corpus of SIs only one interpreter delivered a quality service and, therefore, concluded ‘that such an outstanding performance was possible thanks to the interpreter’s extralinguistic knowledge and familiarity with the subject matter’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 171). As he claims based on the poor quality of the SIs included in his corpus, ‘the problem [of interpreting FPCs] is the recognition of technical words in the flow of the speech’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 171); as regards the present study, it was precisely this ability to recognise and translate virtually all the technical terms uttered by source-language speakers that enabled the interpreter to deliver a quality service. The Sky Sport interpreter outperformed his colleagues who worked between the late 1990s and the early 2000s simply because he was familiar with Formula One jargon and did not struggle to translate technical terms and expressions. The fact that he struggled more to translate non-technical passages, condensed in the first questions to the drivers, further suggests that.

As Straniero Sergio (2003: 171) maintains, the point is precisely specialised vocabulary, rather than ‘extralinguistic knowledge per se, [which is] part and parcel of any SI, particularly of a technical nature’. What is sure is that Salvatore Torrisi constantly gives the impression of feeling like a fish in the water. Take an additional excerpt ([31]), showing that the interpreter always knows what the interviewer and the interviewee are talking about:

The journalist merely hints at ‘the recent news about Nico Hulkenberg and Haas’, but the interpreter knows what this unspecified update is about and demonstrates it with his rendition, which is enriched with an explanatory clause (‘che guiderà per la Haas’, meaning ‘who will drive for Haas’) that seems to be produced to help the Italian audience better understand the theme that is being addressed.

Besides displaying an extraordinary familiarity with Formula One people, issues and vocabulary, the interpreter also proves his competence as far as simultaneous interpreting is concerned. The deliberate omissions of hedges and redundant lexical or phrasal items, the recourse to interaction-oriented strategies, a non-casual use of repetitions and the occasional production of nominal sentences all enable him to deliver a ‘smooth and coherent discourse’ (Straniero Sergio 2003: 172) that, unlike in Straniero Sergio’s data, is actual rather than apparent, and does not result in the discouraging ‘rendition of the essentials’. Though the source-speech delivery rate is – as Straniero Sergio notes in relation to the FPC context – fast, frantic and characterised by the absence of interruptions between questions and answers, the interpreter’s output is also fast, as accurate as the ST and, at times, more elegant and polished.

About the author(s)

Emanuele Brambilla is Associate Professor at the Department of Legal, Language, Interpreting and Translation Studies (IUSLIT) of the University of Trieste, where he teaches EN-IT dialogue interpreting. His research interests include Corpus-based Interpreting Studies and the application of argumentation theories to dialogue and conference interpreting studies. He is a member of the editorial boards of the international journals Journal of Argumentation in Context (John Benjamins), Argumentation (Springer) and The Interpreters’ Newsletter (EUT). He co-edited issues 27 and 28 of The Interpreters’ Newsletter. He is author of the monograph The Quest for Argumentative Equivalence. Argumentative Patterns in Political Interpreting Contexts (John Benjamins, 2020). His recent publications include “Etiamsi omnes, ego non: an exploratory study of argument types in separate opinions” (Comparative Legilinguistics, forthcoming) and “On the defence of antifascist Italy in Alcide De Gasperi’s 1946 speech to the Paris Peace Conference” (Discourse Studies, 2023).

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Abstract

This paper explores the influence of the media turn on the dynamics of interpreter-mediated dialogic interactions in the context of the Giffoni Film Festival, a unique and well-known international film festival held every summer in southern Italy. Its theoretical framework brings together the two seminal concepts of ‘footing’ and ‘positioning’, by looking at utterance-level alignments within sequence-level discursive and spatial positions. The discussion pursues a twofold aim: to devise a descriptive typology of interactionally constructed interpreter positions through a qualitative analysis of representative sequences of YouTube live streamed encounters with world-famous cinema stars; and to determine whether and how the presence of live streaming impacts participants’ behaviours. To this end, the types identified in the analyses are compared with non-live streamed interpreted Q&A sessions with members of the film crews collected in the same setting. Since film festival interpreting is here subsumed under the broader category of media interpreting, the streamed data are also discussed against the backdrop of Francesco Straniero Sergio’s pioneering investigation of TV interpreting practices. Live streaming was found to have significant repercussions on physical and interactional positioning in that it limits the agency of both the festival host and the interpreter by imposing a rigid routine on the event; interpreters appear to adjust to the requirements of the new media context not so much out of lack of interactional power – a power which they apparently feel freer to exert in non-streamed events – but because they prioritise the success of the show over their own visibility; differently from TV entertainment, not only are the guests more interactionally dominant than the hosts, but the needs of the remote audience of streaming users are less catered for than those of the flesh-and-blood jurors sitting in the cinema theatre, despite the structural accommodation to the new medium.

Keywords: film festival interpreting, footing, media interpreting, new media, positioning, live streaming, TV interpreting

1. On the shoulders of giants: A preview^[*]

The earliest studies on media interpreting (hereafter MI) date back to the 1980s (Dal Fovo 2020). Since then, the Italian scholarly community has been one of the most productive in the field thanks to the pioneering studies of Francesco Straniero Sergio (1999, 2003, 2007, 2012), and his collection of copious authentic video materials which led to the creation of the unique corpus of TV interpreting, CorIT, hosted at the University of Trieste (Falbo 2012). In particular, Straniero Sergio’s volume on talk show interpreting (2007) opened up multiple avenues of investigation by applying a wide array of theoretical notions to interpreting practice. One such line of enquiry is based on Erving Goffman’s seminal notion of footing. To exemplify interpreters’ orientation to the other participants in interaction in terms of cooperation vs. competition, and involvement vs. distancing, Straniero Sergio (2007: 407–23) conducted a microanalysis of shifts in footings signalled by the use of personal pronouns, highlighting the different capacities projected by the use of singular/plural first vs. third person. This paper deals with film festivals as a sui generis form of media entertainment by bringing together the notion of footing with the theoretical construct of positioning in order to explore how interpreters relate to primary interlocutors in one of the dialogic contexts of the Giffoni Film Festival (hereafter GFF), namely live streamed meetings with famous international guests. An attempt will be made to devise a descriptive typology of interactionally constructed interpreter positions in this context. The detected features will be then compared with those of post-screening Q&A sessions with the crews of the films presented at the festival: events in both categories take place onsite and in-person, with the main discriminating factor being that the latter are not live streamed. The data are analysed also with a view to highlighting similarities and differences between streamed film festival interpreting and televised MI so as to evaluate the influence of the new media on interpreting practices. 

2. From a wide shot of media interpreting to a close-up on film festival interpreting

This paper approaches film festival interpreting (hereafter FFI) as a form of media interpreting. MI currently ‘refers to a very broad and diverse category of cross-language interpreter-mediated communication that falls within the field of audiovisual translation’ (Dal Fovo 2020: 315). The expression has become the preferred one in literature because it’s the most comprehensive and inclusive way of referring to content produced by old and new media (Pöchhacker 2011: 22).

International film festivals are among the current forms of entertainment normally found on online streaming platforms. As first defined by Raffaela Merlini (2017), FFI can be subsumed under MI even though it is neither an activity organised by the media and performed within a studio (unlike talk show interpreting, for instance) nor a situationally displaced translation of events taking place in a remote location, staged and edited for the benefit of a television audience (unlike the live interpreting of breaking news). While the ‘working from a screen’ criterion (Mack 2002) is a side rather than a core condition, interpreting at film festival events that attract media coverage can be defined as ‘interpreting also for the media’, and by extension as MI, on at least three counts: the multiplicity of addressees and communication levels resulting from an additional remote audience; the high degree of professional exposure experienced by the interpreter; and the reference to an ‘ethics of entertainment’. 

The literature on the topic defines broadcast communication as talk constructed for absent overhearers (Heritage 1985; Hutchby 1995). As such it entails two discourse levels: (1) ‘reporting interaction’, that is the relationship between the off-screen audience and what is being discussed on screen; and (2) ‘reported interaction’, namely the relationship between on-screen participants themselves (Bondi Paganelli 1990: 45–55). Given the primacy of the former level on the latter, TV viewers may be considered, to all effects and purposes, the intended addressees of media communication. In film festival on-stage talk, complexity increases as the levels of interaction become threefold and are rearranged in order of salience as follows: (1) a primary level made up of the interaction between on-stage participants and the public who is physically present in the theatre; (2) a secondary interaction between on-stage participants; and (3) the relationship between on-screen interaction and off-screen audience. The host, the guest and the interpreter interacting on stage are aware of being broadcast, yet their behaviour is influenced most of all by the reactions of the flesh-and-blood spectators, who are often cast in the role of addressees, as when the host engages directly with them (Merlini 2017; also see Merlini and Picchio 2019; Picchio 2023a). This kind of interacting public is different from TV studio paid audiences, given that the latter’s contributions, if envisaged at all, are carefully scripted (Rizzo 2018).  

The second feature supporting the categorisation of FFI as a form of MI is the interpreter’s exposure and visibility (Jiménez Serrano 2011) which, in FFI, vary according to the degree of media coverage (local, national or international) and the resonance of the event, with the awarding of prestigious prizes to worldwide celebrities attracting much more media attention than short interviews with first-time film makers and novice actors. In any case, media exposure of interpreting mistakes may jeopardise a professional’s image, and have adverse effects in terms of stress levels, as discussed, among others, by Birgit Strolz (1997) and Ingrid Kurz (2002). Media interpreters are also conscious that the quality of their performance is likely to shape public perception of the whole professional category (Pöchhacker 2011: 23). Sergio Viaggio (2001: 29) explicitly refers to the media interpreter’s ‘heavy burden of incarnating the profession before the general public’. 

The third feature is the interpreter’s orientation to what David Katan and Francesco Straniero Sergio (2001) perceptively identified as the ‘ethics of entertainment’, making interpreting behaviour consistent with the playful macrofunction of TV communication. Talk is not so much aimed at seeking and giving information: it goes beyond the phatic function of maintaining social contact and is instead specifically designed to keep up the interest of viewers while ensuring that all participants – both on- and off-screen – feel comfortable with what they are doing. In compliance with this overarching ‘comfort factor’, interpreters are called upon to contribute to the entertainment goal of the media event, with their renditions being often exploited to create ad-lib vignettes. Form thus prevails over content, with oratorical style making for a telegenic performance (Pignataro and Velardi 2013).

3. Remakes of footing and positioning

As originally put forward by Goffman (1981: 128), footing was defined as ‘the alignment we take up to ourselves and the others present as expressed in the way we manage the production or reception of an utterance’. Goffman developed the construct into a ‘participation framework’ made up of a production format accounting for the speaker’s potential alignments as ‘animator’ (articulating utterances), ‘author’ (scripting the lines), and ‘principal’ (taking responsibility for the words spoken), and two broad categories of recipient roles, namely ‘addressee’ and ‘bystander’. Whereas addressees are fully ratified and active participants in interaction, bystanders are adventitious listeners who happen to be in the perceptual range of the encounter, and whose access to it, however minimal, is perceivable by the official participants (Goffman 1981: 132). Being unratified, bystanders should politely disavail themselves of any opportunities to listen and should act in such a way as to maximally encourage the fiction that they are not present. In her critical review of Goffman’s conceptualisation, Marta Dynel (2011) points to a classificatory problem concerning the role of ‘bystander’, arguing how the distinction between its two subcategories of ‘overhearer’ and ‘eavesdropper’ is based on a very elusive criterion, namely inadvertent/unintentional vs. engineered/surreptitious listening. As will be addressed later in this paper, whether a bystander is to be regarded as a ratified participant – a view to which Cecilia Wadensjö (2015: 167) subscribes –, a non-ratified participant – as in Goffman’s work –, or even a non-participant – as ventured by Dynel (2011: 459) – is still an open question with an interesting potential for further elaboration. 

Adapting Goffman’s framework to interpreting, Wadensjö (1998) complements his notion of production format with a breakdown of the hearer’s reception format into three modes of listening, ‘reporter’, ‘recapitulator’, and ‘responder’, which differ on the basis of the interpreter’s increasing degree of agency, with the last of these three footings signalling full interactional autonomy. Inspired by both Goffman and Wadensjö, the model of interpreter footings developed by Merlini and Favaron (2005) with reference to the specific setting of speech therapy seminally connected the ways in which the interpreter is addressed or not addressed by primary parties with his/her speaker alignments as expressed through the use of personal pronouns and direct/indirect speech. In this model, seven types of footing are suggested (‘reporter’, ‘narrator’, ‘recapitulator’, ‘responder’, ‘pseudo-co-principal’, and ‘principal’) with the supposedly canonical one being the alignment of ‘reporter’, where the interpreter is unaddressed by primary speakers, and his/her renditions are in first-person direct speech. Pöchhacker (2012: 57) later noted how a turn-by-turn analysis of this kind, which links the interpreter’s rendition back to the preceding original utterance, may be too mechanical, in that alignment shifts are often embedded in a more enduring footing that is shaped at the level of the communicative event. His contribution thus suggests a need to broaden the scope of footing analysis.

Moving on to a consideration of the MI literature, in Straniero Sergio’s work (2007: 34–7) the approach is twofold; while at a microlevel his investigation of footing shifts focuses once again on the use of personal pronouns and choice of address, at a theoretical level the concept is used as broadly encompassing all the moves that interlocutors make to regulate their dialogic exchanges. These include instances of initiating/responding, acknowledgment of understanding, metalinguistic comments, affiliation and so on, through which participants construct and negotiate their relations to one another, as well as to the contents and forms of their contributions to the speech event. Straniero Sergio’s multifaceted discussion demonstrates, on the one hand, how interpreters tend to adopt footings that display an independent participation status and, on the other, how their conversational alignments may be triggered by the interactional behaviour of the TV host. Wadensjö’s (2008) study of footing shifts in a talk show interview reveals a different state of affairs: in her data, the interpreter resists the host’s attempts to involve him personally in the show. More recently, Englund Dimitrova (2018) has analysed the case of a TV host-interpreter with experience in both professions, finding that conversational alignments are oriented more towards the showbusiness ethics of entertainment than to the typical conference interpreting one.

Going beyond the notions of role and footing, the theory of positioning espouses a quintessentially dynamic view of interaction (Davies and Harré 1990; Harré and Van Langehove 1999) and gives prominence to the joint construction and constant renegotiation of individuals’ identities. Positions stem from the discursive practices that interlocutors engage in and make available to one another during the unfolding of an encounter, and as such, they are non-predetermined – in other words, no fixed or generally applicable categories can be devised beforehand. In shifting between different discourses, people project a multiplicity of selves, each of which may contradict the selves located in past story lines, as well as those located in alternative ones. If ‘reflexive positioning’ (also referred to as ‘self-positioning’) is the process through which someone positions him/herself on the basis of the cultural, social, and moral systems and the emotional experiences embedded in their personal story, in ‘interactive positioning’ (or ‘other-positioning’) what one person says positions another. With reference to the latter, Davies and Harré (1990: 50) observe that interlocutors may be found to conform to the speaker’s interpretation of their story line either because they share it, or because they see some advantages in doing so, or simply because power asymmetries leave them no other choice; conversely, interlocutors may resist being positioned and may pursue their own story line, quite blind to the one being proposed by the speaker.

Mason (2005, 2009) and Merlini (2009) pioneeringly applied positioning theory to public service interpreting research in order to portray the fluid, locally managed and power-dependent process of identity projection.  Their analyses revealed how interpreters’ and primary interlocutors’ utterances influence one another through a complex weaving of discursive moves and countermoves. More recently, in her analysis of mental health and court interpreting encounters, Delizée (2021) has successfully combined the constructs of footing and positioning, looking at utterance-level alignments within sequence-level positions. The present study follows this same line of inquiry, turning its attention to the film festival setting. It builds on a preliminary investigation of discursive positions and audience design in FFI (Merlini and Picchio 2019), which revealed how interpreters tend to step into non-normative positions only if instructed or authorised to do so by either the host or the film festival guest.

An additional level of analysis is introduced here drawing on a further meaning of the term ‘positioning’, which ‘in a more concrete sense […] is used to describe the physical position of the interpreter in face-to-face encounters’ (Pokorn 2015: 312–13). The significance of positioning in space has been problematised in particular in legal and healthcare interpreting settings. In the latter field, the widespread assumption is that a triangular seating arrangement enables the patient, the healthcare provider, and the interpreter to keep eye-contact, allowing for unobstructed direct interaction between the two primary speakers. Such a configuration has been shown by Wadensjö (2001) to ensure the equality of all participants present in the shared visual radius, and to favour both the interpreters’ impartiality and their active integration in the communicative process. Little is still known about physical positioning in other contexts of practice. To our knowledge, the physical positioning of interpreters in MI has never been the object of in-depth scrutiny, even though its repercussions on such aspects as visibility, entertainment and comfort are all too evident. The few cursory observations which can be found in Straniero Sergio (1999, 2007), Wadensjö (2008), Sandrelli (2015) and Merlini (2017) all point to the importance of proxemics for a successful spectacle-oriented performance. As will be discussed in the following sections, our data show that the participants’ positioning in space varies significantly between streamed and non-streamed events.

4. The Giffoni Film Festival: Setting the scene

The GFF, one of the most important Italy-based international film festivals, has been taking place since 1971 in Giffoni Valle Piana, a small town near Salerno in the Campania region of southern Italy. Its uniqueness lies in the fact that the audience and jury are entirely made up of children and young people coming from Italy and abroad, which is the reason why extensive dialogue interpreting between Italian and English (the GFF official languages) is made available. Differences between the FFI setting studied in Merlini (2017) and the GFF context are twofold: (1) GFF jurors are primary interlocutors rather than mere spectators as they directly address the guests with questions and comments; and (2) some of the events are broadcast in live streaming on YouTube.

Referring to the digital era, Bolter and Grusin (1999: 55) argue that ‘all current media function as remediators’ in the sense that they respond to, redeploy, compete with, and reform other media. Each new means of communication remediates some aspects of preexisting media, by introducing innovations in the cultural and mass media ecosystems, and by drawing upon old structures and models which are yet transformed and recombined. As television remediated both radio broadcasting and cinema, web-based communication remediates television. In a non-linear historical progression, however, older media can also remediate newer ones: television, for instance, has refashioned itself into smart TV to resemble the World Wide Web. In shaping one-to-one, many-to-many and one-to-many communications (Jensen 2021), the multimodality and interactivity (Cosenza 2014) of the new digital media have altered public-private, space-temporal dynamics so that today’s people-users live an ‘onlife’ (Floridi 2015) in a ‘real virtuality’ (Castells 2009). By the same token, the concept of audience has become more participatory, fragmented and interconnected (Bentivegna and Boccia Artieri 2018). Drawing on the concept of remediation, this study will look at the live streamed film festival data under analysis in search for significant interactional, interpreting and entertainment shifts from linguistically-mediated TV talk shows.

The excerpts discussed in the paper are taken from the GFFIntD multimodal corpus (Picchio 2023a; 2024), which includes 23 audio/video recordings for a total duration of over 920 minutes. For the purposes of this paper, the qualitative analysis will focus on five videos of live streamed encounters with famous celebrities (so-called Meet the Jury, hereafter MJs – see Table 1). The characteristics identified will be subsequently set against the interactional features of non-live streamed post-screening Q&A sessions (hereafter DPPs)^[1] discussed elsewhere (Picchio 2023a; see also Merlini and Picchio 2019; Picchio 2023b) and used here as a foil. Both data sets come from the 47^th edition of the GFF which took place in 2017, and involve the same configuration of participants:

• an interpreter (I) working in the consecutive mode;
• an Italian host/chairman (H);
• either one foreign guest (G) or more than one;
• Italian and foreign members of the juries (J) making up the in-theatre public; the jurors are aged from 13 to over 18.

Table 1: MJ videos

On the other hand, the two contexts differ on the following counts:

1. the live streaming: the MJ encounters were followed by the additional remote audience of live streaming users, whereas the DPPs were not made available by the festival management to wider distribution^[2];
2. the types of guests: in MJs, they are famous celebrities who are invited to receive an award or present a film première, whereas in DPPs guests are members of the film crew who answer the jurors’ questions following the screening of the movie in competition;
3. the status of jurors: in MJs, they form an audience of fans who meet their favourite stars, whereas in DPPs they interact with the guests in their full capacity as jurors who will eventually cast their votes;
4. the interpreting mode: consecutive without note-taking in MJs, with note-taking in DPPs.

The data were transcribed using ELAN (2021), currently considered by various scholars (see among others Davitti 2013; Bao-Rozée 2016; Vranjes and Brône 2021) as the best tool for the transcription and analysis of dialogic multimodal data. Besides enabling the alignment of transcripts to their corresponding video recordings, its horizontal layout allows for the annotation of verbal, interactional, and multimodal features within an easily searchable tier structure. One of the analytical tiers, named FootPos, was created specifically to annotate the interpreters’ footings and their discursive as well as spatial positions. 

5. Lights, camera, action… onto data analysis and discussion

Following an illustration of participants’ positioning in space, in this section the data analysis will focus on discursive moves described in terms of the interconnection between footings and positions. To remain within the movie metaphor, representative sequences of interaction will be played in slow motion to capture the interpreter’s participation status that emerges from the relational configuration of reflexive and interactive positioning moves in any given sequence. Four categories will be discussed, namely ratified bystander, recapper, primer, and sidekick performer. The suggested typology is to be seen as an attempt at drawing the contours of varying degrees and modes of interpreter agency in the specific context under scrutiny, rather than a systematisation into widely applicable categories.

5.1 Framing in on the interpreter in live streamed Meet the Jury events

The participants’ seating arrangement on stage is fixed throughout all the MJ encounters and is decided by the festival management. It is thus a clear instance of spatial other-positioning aimed at accommodating the event to the requirements of live streaming. The guest sits between the interpreter and the host (Figure 1).

Fig. 1: Positioning in space

The three chairs face the cameras and the jurors in the theatre stalls, and are placed in such a way as to form a triangle (Figure 2). While this arrangement is clearly designed to facilitate interaction between on-stage participants, differently from the more traditional dialogue interpreting triangular arrangement here it is the guest rather than the interpreter who sits in the middle. As the main attraction, the guest thus occupies the focal point of the stage and is always visible on screen, often in close-up view for the benefit of the remote audience.

Fig. 2: The triangular seating arrangement

Camera shots often include the host as well, testifying to his^[3] functional role as ‘gate-keeper’: it is he who welcomes the guest, presents the jurors, introduces the awarding ceremony, and sets the pace of the encounter. Unlike TV talk show hosts (Straniero Sergio 2007: 105–106; 117), however, the GFF host does not decide the topics of conversation, which depend on the jurors’ contributions.

As for the interpreters, they are instead rarely on screen, mostly becoming visible only when directly addressed by the guests. The discussion that follows will bring them back into the analytical picture. The four positions identified below are presented in order of increasing interactional involvement on the interpreter’s part, which does not necessarily reflect a corresponding degree of autonomous agency.

RATIFIED BYSTANDER 

In excerpt 1, the host addresses the guest to introduce the jurors and present the welcome video they prepared for him. The interpreter sits with them on the stage but is not introduced.

Excerpt 1 (MJ_2_47)^[4]

After being excluded by the host throughout the opening sequence, the interpreter takes the floor in turns 8 and 11 to translate the guest’s thanks for the welcome video, overlapping partially with H1 (turns 10–11). His subsequent routine involvement in the speech event follows upon one juror’s question in English. The exclusion of interpreters from the interaction typically occurs when the host interacts directly with the guest in English without asking for a translation. These moments precede or follow the Q&A session proper and are a common practice at the GFF^[5]: interpreters expect them, and jurors, who are equally familiar with these introductory sequences, are supposed to be able to grasp the general meaning – even if Italian jurors (especially the younger ones) are not likely to speak English fluently. On the other hand, those live streaming users who either do not understand English or do not usually follow the GFF events are denied access to comprehension. This situation is completely different from TV talk shows, in which host-guest monolingual exchanges are always translated for the benefit of the remote audience (Straniero Sergio 2007: 425).

To describe this type of interpreter’s other-positioning by the host, the label ‘ratified bystander’ has been coined. Following Dynel (2011), neither ‘overhearer’ nor ‘eavesdropper’ were thought to be suitable descriptions: rather, the construct of ‘bystander’ was drawn upon to recall the Goffmanian (1981) concept of inactive participation in the communicative event. In contrast to his original categorisation, however, excerpt 1 shows that the interpreters’ presence is ratified by the GFF management: interpreters do not have to pretend they are absent, nor do they disavail themselves of any opportunities to listen, which is why the bystander status is here qualified as ‘ratified’.  This position extends over a sequence of host-guest exchanges, which ends when I1 gets involved in the interaction through two instances of self-positioning as ratified participant.

It is also worth noting that when interpreters are cut out of the conversation, they are virtually invisible on screen. In excerpt 1, I1 features only in wide camera shots: out of 10 shots (the majority of which are close-ups of G), I1 is included only in four very wide ones (Figure 3).

Fig. 3: A very wide shot in which the interpreter is hardly visible

In other MJ encounters, the interpreters are never present on screen. As a result, whereas for the jurors the interpreters are ratified bystanders, for the streaming users they are to all effects and purposes invisible, in some sequences inaudible, and in any case anonymous.

RECAPPER

In excerpt 2, the juror asks the guest a tricky question (turn 1), which results in a dyadic sequence between them (turns 3–10): first, the guest makes sure she has grasped the meaning of the question, and then she tries to answer without ‘spilling the beans on the bad experience’. The interpreter translates only at the end of the guest’s answer (turn 14).

Excerpt 2 (MJ_1_47)

I4 starts her rendition with ‘allora’, an Italian discourse marker that may be used to introduce a summary but also to project tentativity in what follows. The turn provides in fact a recapitulation of the main points of the guest's contribution. As she takes on the footing of recapitulator, her summarized rendition results in omissions (‘I’d like to say a few choice words to certain people’), unclear formulations (‘they don’t teach you but then you learn’)^[6], and one serious mistranslation (‘I can say I won’t do it again’ when the guest argues the opposite). Nevertheless, the interpreter manages to convey the key message, that is, the need to find the right balance between family life and work.

Looking at the whole sequence rather than at the interpreter’s turn, I4’s positioning is prompted by the guest herself. It is G who interacts directly with the juror without allowing for the interpreter’s renditions (turns 3–10), and then explicitly, albeit politely, asks the latter to wait further and to translate only at the end of her answer (turn 11). To signal a distinction between sequence-level instances of interactive positioning and the traditional footing of recapitulator, this type of other-positioning of the interpreter by a primary participant has been named ‘recapper’. As the interpreter is acting on cue here, the term has been deemed appropriate also to evoke a tool-like functioning; in military jargon, the recapper was an ignition device used in the past to reload firearms and enable them to detonate reliably in any weather conditions^[7]. In excerpt 2, I4 waits to be externally ‘triggered’, thereby accepting G’s interactive positioning, as she apparently realises that the situation is a delicate one and that G may require an extended turn to produce a non-committal answer. 

Technically, excerpt 2 recalls the ways in which talk show interpreters group together several original turns into a single rendition – even resorting to similar turn-opening discourse markers. In the TV setting, however, during extended dyadic monolingual sequences interpreters are seen to actively self-position as translators, given that they repeatedly try to get the floor back, even by means of interruptions (Straniero Sergio 2007: 240–4). A second difference between talk shows and the GFF, as emerges from the analysis of this excerpt, is that in the former interactional coordination is completely in the hands of the host (Straniero Sergio 2007: 215–23), while in the latter it is the guest who gives instructions to the interpreter.

PRIMER  

In excerpt 3, a juror formulates a convoluted two-part question in English (turn 1) which the star does not grasp completely.

Excerpt 3 (MJ_2_47)

As the guest reformulates the juror’s long-winded turn to make it clearer to himself (turn 3), I1 takes an unsolicited initiative (footing of principal – turn 4) and condenses it in one short question. This helps G focus, as he repeats to himself the interpreter’s words literally (turn 5). Treating his contribution as an aside meant just for the guest’s benefit, I1 does not speak into the microphone, thus managing the situation metaphorically behind the scenes. In light of this autonomous contribution by I1, later on in the conversation (turn 7), just as he is about to conclude his reply, the guest turns his gaze to the interpreter, presumably to ask for confirmation that he has fully answered the question. Although I1 is off screen, G’s response ‘yeah he is just part of me now’ coupled with his head nodding would seem to indicate that the interpreter has in fact confirmed. Here, I1 thus adopts the footing of responder.

In excerpt 4, a juror asks the guest a question about Italian cinema (which Italian film he likes the most and why); the star addresses her a request for confirmation to make sure he has understood the question properly (turn 2). The interpreter butts in, acting as unaddressed responder^[8], and his answer (turn 3) partially overlaps with J’s (turn 4). The guest turns to I1, repeating the words ‘Italian film’ (turn 5) and seeking for further confirmation, and the interpreter nods (turn 6) before translating the juror’s initial question for the benefit of the Italian-speaking audience. Later on, the guest tries to remember an old Italian movie ‘about cycling’ and looks again at the interpreter, implicitly asking him for help (turn 10). I1 intervenes as addressed responder suggesting the title of a very famous neorealist Italian movie, ‘Ladri di biciclette’ (turn 11). At this point, the host himself validates I1’s suggestion (turn 12), mentioning also the film’s director (turn 14) and the release year (turn 16).

Excerpt 4 (MJ_2_47)

In excerpts 3 and 4, the interpreter primes the guest by giving him the pieces of information he needs to first understand the questions and then provide suitable answers. Both self-positioning and other-positioning can be seen to be at play; more specifically, instances of the former process occur when I1 answers questions which are not addressed to him, while instances of the latter entail the guest turning to the interpreter for help. Whereas the footings of principal and responder are determined on the basis of single turn exchanges (as in Merlini and Favaron’s model), here the interpreter’s position emerges from the whole sequence and takes into account not only the participants’ verbal contributions but also their body language, including gaze. To describe this position, the term ‘primer’ has been chosen to indicate the interpreter’s information-giving function^[9] and, at the same time, suggest the ‘prime’ part he plays in these stretches of interaction.

SIDEKICK PERFORMER

In excerpt 5, the guest recounts an episode that happened to him while shooting a TV series: covered in bees, he was stung twice. Pointing at his microphone and alluding to the male reproductive organ, he illustrates by means of a gesture where he was stung the second time (turn 9). Mindful of the underage audience, while both are off screen the host intervenes in English saying that G was stung ‘there’ (turn 10), and I2 keeps the double entendre of G’s non-verbal allusion commenting ‘in Italian it’s the same it’s the same thing’ for the benefit of the Italian-speaking jurors and remote public (turn 11). Out of curiosity, the guest leans towards the interpreter – who is consequently brought back into the frame – and asks him to explain what he has just said in Italian (turn 12). I1 acts as responder (turn 13), translating his previous turn into English and miming the guest’s previous gesture.

Excerpt 5 (MJ_3_47)

The interpreter is other-positioned as a sidekick performer by the guest who explicitly prompts his ancillary contribution to the show. Sequences like this one differ from the Taormina Film Festival live TV broadcast data discussed in Merlini (2017) where interpreters’ applause-relevant involvement, generally initiated by the host, was found to display a higher degree of agency resulting in the position of host’s ‘co-performer’.

5.2 Live streamed MJs vs. non-live streamed DPPs

The analysis of MJs presented above has revealed how the presence of streaming determines a less dynamic unfolding of the event. Mapping the prevalent interactional flows in a diagrammatic (freeze-frame) form, Figure 4 shows the spatial and discursive positions that characterise the MJ encounters. Single-headed arrows indicate the interpreters being other-positioned as ratified bystanders, recappers and sidekick performers, whereas the double-headed arrow refers to their other- and self-positioning as primers.

Fig. 4: Spatial and discursive positions

The diagram clearly illustrates that interactional flows cluster around the guest and the interpreter, with the guest playing a key role in streamed MJ events: s/he positions the interpreter as recapper and sidekick performer, and solicits or receives information when the interpreter contributes to the interaction as primer. Visually, the guest is also the focal point on stage and is permanently visible on screen. Evidence of the host’s power as gate-keeper of the event is provided by his decision to position the interpreter, on some occasions, as a ratified bystander. Although the topical development of the encounter depends on the jurors as fully ratified participants, they do not appear to exert any direct power on interpreter positioning.

If these results are compared to the findings of the analysis carried out by Picchio (2023a) on non-live streamed post-screening Q&A sessions with film crews (DPPs), the latter reveal a much greater diversity of both spatial and discursive positions. In terms of physical arrangement, depending either on personal preferences or on the festival management’s instructions, participants are alternatively found to be on stage or under it, and to stand or to sit. As for the range of interpreters’ discursive positions, seven different types were identified in the DPP data, ranging from zero to fully autonomous agency:

• ratified bystander: this position occurs at various points during the event – rather than just in the opening sequences – when the hosts take upon themselves the task of interpreting;
• linguistic support (cf. Merlini 2009): the interpreter is required by the host to provide minimal renditions at certain specific moments in the interaction;
• recapper: unlike in the MJs, this position is prompted in the DPPs by the host rather than the guest;
• coordinator of turn-taking;
• moderator: when the Q&A session with the film crew is particularly heated, interpreters autonomously intervene, both textually and prosodically, to mitigate (cf. Caffi 2001) those original turns in which criticism is addressed to the movies in competition;
• performer: interpreters produce jokes, quips and hilarious vignettes entirely on their own initiative;
• host: if a chairperson cannot be present, interpreters are called upon to host the event while also translating their own and others’ turns.

When positioning is compared and contrasted between streamed MJs and non-streamed DPPs, most types are seen to characterise either one or the other. The only two that are found in both settings are recapper and ratified bystander. However, this overlap is only partial, given that the recapper position is guest-initiated in MJs and host-initiated in DPPs, and the ratified bystander position is much more frequent in the latter context. Hypotheses about this stark divergence between the two sub-corpora are formulated in the concluding section.

6. Finale: FFI between old and new media

This paper has presented a qualitative analysis of the spatial and discursive positions that characterise live streamed interpreter-mediated encounters at the 47^th edition of the Giffoni Film Festival. By bringing together a turn-by-turn analysis of footing shifts with an examination of sequence-level dynamics, four other- and self-initiated positions have been identified, for which the labels of ‘ratified bystander’, ‘recapper’, ‘primer’ and ‘sidekick performer’ have been suggested. Taken together these positions provide evidence of both a visual and interactional prominence of the guest in these kinds of events. When viewed against the backdrop of non-streamed Q&A encounters in the same context, one finds that the latter exhibit a much higher degree of variability both in terms of physical arrangement of participants in space and their discursive behaviours. Furthermore, in non-streamed interaction all the identified positions point to a marked conversational dominance by the host and a more autonomous conduct on the interpreter’s part. One may thus safely infer that the presence of a streaming audience tends to limit the institutional participants’ freedom of agency by imposing a more rigid routine on the event. Since in non-live streamed encounters not only the host but also the interpreter presumably feels freer to act, it is also possible to hypothesise that GFF interpreters conform to the positions being suggested by primary speakers not so much because they see themselves as having no choice (hence, out of lack of power; see Davies and Harré 1990: 50), but because they intentionally adjust their conduct to the requirements of the context, prioritising the success of the event over their own professional image. This interpretation gains further strength if one combines the impact of live streaming with that of juror status. Of the four features that distinguish MJs from DPPs, the different capacities in which the jurors participate in the two types of encounters may have contributed – albeit indirectly and to a minor extent – to determining interpreter behaviour. In a situation where the jurors are not wearing their ‘institutional’ hat and are just enjoying the show as any other audience, the interpreters (and the hosts) may feel that keeping a low profile is the best strategy to allow the guest-stars and their fans ample room for manoeuvre. When, on the other hand, the only public is the in-theatre one and the jurors step into their role asking questions and making comments on the films in competition, the interpreters (and the hosts) may feel that a higher degree of agency is required on their part to coordinate interventions, soften criticism, and maintain a cheerful atmosphere. 

Given that film festival interpreting has been subsumed here under media interpreting, some concluding considerations on the differences between streamed and TV talk show interpreter performances are also called for. Firstly, the analysis has shown that when positioned as ratified bystanders, GFF interpreters are totally excluded from the conversation, and consequently no translation into Italian is provided to the streaming audience. On the contrary, the comprehension needs of TV viewers are prioritised so that only on very rare occasions and for brief stretches of talk are interpreters marginalised or altogether deprived of their translation space. Secondly, whereas TV hosts have full control of on-screen interaction, management of GFF streamed events is left in the hands of the guest-stars who take centre stage, both conversationally and on screen, thereby becoming the principal performers. Thirdly, while in talk shows people who do not know each other, and/or have nothing in common, and/or do not necessarily have intimate relationships chat as if they were close friends for pure entertainment purposes (Straniero Sergio 2007: 73), the GFF jurors are truly interested in learning about their favourite stars’ careers and private lives; thus, the informative function of communication plays a significant role, and the entertainment one – though always present, as the sidekick performer position demonstrates – is not the only or even primary goal.

The absence from the camera shots of either the host or the interpreter or both is quite common at the GFF, which implies that online users have only limited access to the full interactional context and are therefore not the main intended addressees. Recalling the norms of TV interpreting as identified by Straniero Sergio (2007) – namely ethics of entertainment, comfort factor, and exposure –, this invisibility would be unimaginable on TV where interpreters often step into the limelight as full-fledged performers, thus becoming famous public figures (Straniero Sergio 2007: 186–93). While the requirements of the streaming are seen to impose on the event a more rigid structure which limits the room of manoeuvre (both spatial and discursive) of both the host and the interpreter, the interpreter’s occasional exclusion from interaction and frequent invisibility on screen mean that the needs of the remote audience are not really catered for, or at least not as much as those of the flesh-and-blood jurors who sit in the GFF cinema theatre.

Resonating with mass media literature, this paper seems thus to confirm that live streaming is not, as some would argue, ‘like TV only better’ (Bolter and Grusin 1999: 3). It is rather a new sui generis form of media communication, within which streamed film festival interpreting is found to remediate some interactional and entertainment dynamics of televised interpreting.

About the author(s)

Raffaela Merlini is Senior Lecturer of English language, translation and linguistics in the Department of law, economics, politics and modern languages at LUMSA University (Rome). She previously held posts at the universities of Hull, Salford, Trieste, and Macerata. She has published in the field of Interpreting Studies mainly on dialogue interpreting topics. Her current research interests focus on the interactional and relational dynamics of face-to-face interpreter-mediated talk in the healthcare, media and business settings. Her scientific contributions have appeared in peer-reviewed international journals and in volumes published, among others, by Benjamins and Routledge. She authored the entry on “Dialogue Interpreting” in the Routledge Encyclopedias of Interpreting Studies (2015) and of Translation Studies (2019). She co-edits a book series on translation (Prolusioni, EUM).

Laura Picchio holds a PhD in Humanities and Technologies (Interpreting Studies) from the University of Macerata, Italy. Her PhD dissertation focuses on the impact of digital media on film festival dialogue interpreting performances (in terms of agency, positioning and visibility on screen) and audience reception. Her research interests also include TV interpreting, in particular talk show interpreting. She works as an adjunct professor of English language at the University of Macerata, lecturing within the Primary Teacher Training Degree Course. Among other publications, she contributed to Issue 28 of The Interpreters’ Newsletter (2023) and to Issue 22 of Revista Tradumàtica (2024). She took part in the 11th EST Congress (2025), and co-authored a paper presented at the 2nd Forlì Workshop on corpus-based interpreting studies (2025).

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Abstract

When interpreting for TV programmes, the degree of prominence interpreters can take on or be given may vary both in terms of language and nonverbal communication. These aspects were extensively studied by Francesco Straniero Sergio in his groundbreaking work on Italian TV talk shows (2007). This contribution aims at following his footsteps and delving deeper into interpreters’ nonverbal communication in the same setting. Interpreters’ verbal and nonverbal behaviour has long been connected to the visibility-invisibility dualism, but data driven research has shown that invisibility is a theoretical precept, hardly found in the variety of communicative and situational contexts of real-life interpreting. On TV the interpreter’s ‘visibility’ is even more evident. In our study visibility is understood as the interpreter who does not only translate but also enters the stage as an active participant in the talk show. This change in interpreter’s positionality is also expressed by nonverbal aspects which are the focus of this study. In particular gaze, posture and gestures will be analysed and discussed on the basis of images and transcripts. The analysis shows that in our data interpreters use gaze for the purpose of turn allocation as already observed by other scholars in other settings; they use body language and facial expressions when they become the object of humour; and they integrate facial expression and gestures in their rendition, mimicking the primary participants’ nonverbal language. Far from being sanctioned by the other participants on the show, these nonverbal behaviours seem to comply with the rules of the talk show game and show great professional adaptability by the interpreters.

Keywords: media interpreting, television interpreting, nonverbal communication, talk show, proxemics, body language, gaze, gestures

1. Introduction: following Francesco’s footsteps

Following Francesco Straniero Sergio’s footsteps is a daunting task for researchers. There are many reasons for this. Firstly, the size of his data collection which comprised over 500 different TV programmes featuring interpreters. Secondly, the depth of his analysis. And, last but not least, the large number of linguistic, interactional and nonverbal phenomena he observed and discussed thoroughly. In this article we endeavour to take his work a step further by exploring some nonverbal elements of interpreters’ behaviour during talk shows.

Nonverbal aspects of communication are ‘the complex interweaving of textual, aural, linguistic, spatial and visual resources which are defined as modes’ (Ouyang and Fu 2021: 192). Several scholars have used a multimodal approach to explore how these interactional resources contribute to meaning-making in interpreter-mediated communication. Most of them have focused on dialogue and consecutive interpreting: Bot (2005) in psychotherapeutic settings, Wadensjö (2001) in therapeutic encounters, Mason (2012) in immigration hearings, Davitti (2013, 2015) in educational contexts, Krystallidou and Pype (2018) in medical consultations, Castillo Ortiz (2015) in radio settings, among others. Our study aims at highlighting how gestures, gazes, postures and other nonverbal behaviour enhance interpreters’ visibility and position them with respect to other participants in a TV talk show setting.

The concept of position in interpreting studies was developed by Mason (2009) to better describe the dynamic and joint nature of an interpreter-mediated interaction where participants constantly negotiate their position. The analysis of images and transcripts of interactional sequences in our data suggests that interpreters are not only ‘reactive’ participants understood as someone who hears a message and reproduces it in another language but can become active participants (as already seen in other settings, see for instance Baraldi and Gavioli 2012) in the show and change their position through gestures. Although our investigation is not based on multimodal methodology and tools, we believe it provides some further insight into interpreters’ nonverbal behaviour, to be compared with findings of future studies in this area.

The myth of the interpreters’ invisibility, challenged already by Kopczyński (1998), was definitively debunked at least a couple of decades ago in the seminal work by Wadensjö (1998) who showed their active participation in the conversations they interpret in terms of talk and interaction coordination in various settings. The topic of visibility is still being discussed and has been extended from language to nonverbal behaviour. Li, Liu and Cheung (2023) have analysed interpreted press conferences to study this aspect both in terms of autonomous verbal and nonverbal production, for instance the interpreters’ laughing and nodding after being congratulated for their work. In this contribution we focus on nonverbal moves produced by the interpreters either on their own initiative or as a response to a prompt or an elicitation by the hosts or guests of TV shows who at times ‘use’ the interpreter for their entertainment purposes. Before discussing some images and sequences of talk extracted from a set of video-recordings (Section 5), we will look at part of the heritage Francesco Straniero Sergio left to researchers of TV interpreting in general and to our subject in particular (Sections 2 and 3), we will then present and discuss our material and methods and the nonverbal features we focus on (Section 4) and draw some conclusions (Section 6).

2. What exactly is TV interpreting today?

Given the dazzling evolution of communication technologies from traditional TV networks to cable, satellite and internet media, and the trend from broadcasting towards narrowcasting (Metzger 2017), TV interpreting is by far no longer what it used to be until a decade ago. A conceptual redefinition is outside the scope of this paper, but some considerations about the changing landscape in this area seem appropriate. Until the spreading of home videorecorders, a television broadcast (no matter whether live or pre-recorded) was an event accessible almost exclusively to those who watched it while it was aired. After the screening, if at all, it could only be retrieved with some effort (and often at great expense) in public or private archives, such as the Italian national broadcasting company’s archive, Teche Rai which Francesco Straniero Sergio frequently attended. Advances in and diffusion of recording technologies first, and the booming of Internet and YouTube shortly after, together with the mushrooming of satellite channels and web TVs, distribution platforms and video news agencies opened up the possibility of repeated access to broadcast contents, though often only for a limited period of time. Non-live and on-demand viewing is currently far more widespread than watching ‘live’ broadcasts. Furthermore, the distinction between events designed to be followed in real time – albeit remotely – by viewers in different countries (for example the yearly awards ceremony of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences widely known as the Oscars) and events that are livestreamed or made accessible to the public for reasons of transparency or information has become blurred. Meetings and sessions of international institutions such as the European Parliament are now available on digital channels and can be shared (more or less easily) via different media. The talk show everyone is talking about, a press conference held last month or a UN General Assembly session held a few years ago can be viewed and often downloaded in virtually any moment – and with them the voices of the interpreters who translated them. The growing trend towards media convergence led to apply the concept of transmediality also to interpreting (Castillo Ortiz 2021). In line with this evolution, our recordings were partly recorded from TV broadcasts, partly retrieved from Internet websites and platforms and they span the years from 1994 to 2018.

3. Francesco’s heritage

Francesco Straniero Sergio and the legacy of his research work are in many ways unique. His seminal book on interpreting in Italian talk shows published in 2007 is one of the very few monographs on TV interpreting, alongside one on modality management in simultaneous interpreting of Chinese government press conferences (Li 2018) and three handbooks mentioned in the IRN Bibliographic Bulletins of 1997-1999 (Kisa 1997; BS Hōsōtsūyaku gurūpu 1998; n.a. 1999, all in Japanese). With the exception of Li, published in English, the lack of translations into other languages limits the accessibility of the other four books.

The most extensive body of research work on media interpreting^[1] produced during the last fifteen years we found in our review of over 240 research papers concerns news interpreting, in particular press conferences (often compared to diplomatic interpreting) and political speeches in general – for example those involving members of the government and officials of the People's Republic of China in various contexts from the 1990s onwards (Pan and Wang 2021). The broadcast press conferences of high-level politicians have also been the subject of a number of doctoral theses (including Wang 2009; Liu 2010; Sun 2011; Guo 2012; Dai 2015). The publications that are accessible in Western languages suggest that no single corpus of these materials has been created, and often scholars have each worked on their own datasets. Chinese-English TV interpreting corpora to date include the Chinese-English Conference Interpreting Corpus (CECIC 3.0 and 4. 0) produced by the Centre for Translation and Intercultural Studies at Shanghai Jiao Tong University (Hu and Meng 2017; Li 2018); the CE-PolitDisCorp assembled by Gu for his doctoral research (2018) and analysed in several papers under different angles; the Chinese-English Interpreting for Premier Press Conferences Corpus (CEIPPC; Wang and Zou 2018), and the open-access Chinese-English Political Interpreting Corpus (CEPIC; Pan 2019), one of the largest corpora of political interpreting, collected at Hong Kong Baptist University.

The interpretation mode used in the different corpora is not always mentioned, but it is mostly consecutive or both consecutive and simultaneous^[2]. Li’s doctoral thesis (2022) discusses consecutive interpreting in press conferences held at the American Institute of Taiwan (AIT); Li, Liu and Cheung (2023), mentioned above, is a follow-up study on the same data.

Of interest to our study are also Fu’s socio-semiotic analysis of shifts in modalising expressions (2018) and of hedging (Fu and Tan 2024) related to interpreters’ identity in interpreting governmental press conferences. Identity changes and role swaps had been already observed by Straniero Sergio in TV contexts in what he called ‘antagonistic mediators’, that is presenters or journalists who temporarily act as interpreters. This topic, observed with particular frequency in radio broadcasts, was further investigated by Englund Dimitrova (2019) who discussed the example of a dual-role mediator in a Swedish talk show, and by Ghignoli and Torres Díaz (2015) in the interpretation of sport interviews on Spanish television. Examples of dual-role interpreting can occur also when interpreters temporarily step out of their role to become active participants of the televised conversation (Sannolla 2023, Harari 2022) or in the interpreter-editor-commentators of some Turkish news channels described by Arzık Erzurumlu (2016, 2019).

One of the richest strands of investigation Straniero Sergio left us, however, is devoted to talk show interpreting, analysed mainly in terms of interaction and participation framework using the tools of conversation analysis (Katan and Straniero Sergio 2001, 2003; Straniero Sergio 1999b). Falbo (2012) and Amato and Mack (2016), who compared some of Straniero Sergio’s data to those collected in other settings, were able to highlight similarities in interpreters’ conversational and interactional behaviour. Caniglia and Zanettin (2021) analysed two cases of confrontainment with the interpretation of conflictive interviews involving multiple participants. The paramount work by Straniero Sergio on talk show interpreting also inspired a number of MA theses in interpreting studies^[3], including the one this contribution stems from (Harari 2022). Sannolla (2023) took up concepts elaborated by Straniero Sergio for the analysis of on-stage consecutive interpreting in infotainment programmes and applied them to simultaneous interpreting in a popular Italian talk show (cf. also Sannolla et al. in this special issue).

4. Materials and methods

The following subsections describe our data collection and selection as well as the methodology and tools adopted to identify and analyse some categories of nonverbal behaviour by interpreters in our recordings of Italian TV talk shows.

4.1 Main features of the talk shows in our dataset

Talk shows can be defined as entertainment programmes based on conversations (Menduni 2005). They are designed to talk about any subject, and this makes them adjustable both to the targeted audience(s) and to the state of the situation and time of broadcasting. In terms of content, they are a mixture of entertainment, information, advertising, promotional and even emotional content (emotainment) where different languages, codes and styles coexist (Straniero Sergio 2007: 83). The main players in the talk show are usually the host and the guest(s), but often the audience in the TV studio is involved too in what would otherwise be a bidirectional conversation. In fact, ‘[t]he people speaking in the studio or other contexts do not appear to be either talking to themselves or locked in private discourse from which viewers and listeners are excluded’ (Scannell 1991: 1); in other words, as Hutchby (2005: 452) puts it,

the talk can often be seen as exhibiting ambivalence between whether it is designed primarily for the audience or primarily for the co-present participants. That ambivalence can be intensified when the program involves a studio audience […]. Studio audiences are frequently present in talk shows as well as game shows, but their role can vary between acting merely as the providers of laughter and applause, to being centrally involved as participants in the show’s spectacle.

This apparently inclusive nature of the communication events ‘on show’ makes them multifaceted and quite complex, and therefore an interesting object of study under the Conversation Analysis (CA) paradigm.

Another peculiar feature of talk shows is that talk must appear as spontaneous as a mundane daily conversation among ordinary people. As described by Hutchby (2005: 451-452), also based on Scannell’s work (1996),

CA studies have repeatedly shown that broadcast talk simultaneously exhibits features characteristic of private talk (casual conversation) and expressly public talk (that directed at a listening audience). It is in part by virtue of its being thus ‘between’ the private and the public that broadcast talk achieves its qualities of sociability and utterly ordinary accessibility.

When a star or an idol is asked to share personal experiences or details of their life on TV, they become ordinary people and establish an intimate and familiar relationship with the audience – both in the studio and at home – who feels personally involved in the conversation. Another essential ingredient of talk shows is therefore their focus on relational and emotional aspects in communication. The aim is to cause a reaction, be it amazement, embarrassment, revulsion, or joy. What matters is keeping the viewers engaged and discouraging them from changing channels. To this end, topic changes are very frequent, humour is common, and even the most serious conversations are of limited duration (Wadensjö 2008: 124).

As Straniero Sergio observed, ‘[b]y emphasizing the intrinsic roles of the TV game, talk shows devalue the skills linked to professional roles of the participants and value their entertaining abilities’ (2007: 169; authors’ translation). This is true of interpreters as well as of hosts and guests. Rather than secondary participants who (simply) bridge (spoken) language barriers, interpreters can occasionally become both the subject/object of the narrative, or a resource to use for entertainment purposes or for humour (Straniero Sergio 2012). In those instances, the interpreter is asked either by the host or a guest to temporarily set aside the role of language expert and to follow instead the rules of the (TV) game behaving as a primary participant in the show. This possibility of a role change does not hold true for interpreters only. Straniero Sergio coined the expression ‘antagonistic mediators’ (1999a) referring to hosts or presenters who decide to replace interpreters and translate some turns of a foreign guest despite the fact that the interpreter is in the studio (cf. Section 2). Paradoxically, by playing the interpreter’s role they make the interpreter even more visible to the audience. This study presents and discusses examples of gesture, gaze, posture and other nonverbal behaviours associated with role shifts which determine a different interpreter’s position (Mason 2009) in the show and have an impact on the interpreter’s visibility. Such shifts may indeed promote entertainment, although (or perhaps because) they clash with codes of conduct for conference as well as for public service interpreters prescribing a neutral attitude and the avoidance of behaviours that are deemed inappropriate. Examples include showing agreement or disagreement with what is being said, displaying a doubtful or suspicious attitude towards the speaker, or any offensive attitude. In this sense, talk show interpreters have more leeway than interpreters at work in other settings and will not be sanctioned for their nonverbal communication, as long as it does not break any social or TV rule.

4.2 Our data: hosts, guests, and interpreters

The whole dataset of this study (Harari 2022, cf. Table 1 below) consists of eight excerpts featuring interpreters from different programmes. For the purpose of this paper, three episodes from two talk shows will be discussed, namely Maurizio Costanzo Show and Stirpe Reale. The three selected episodes are in bold in the table.

Table 1: The complete dataset

The excerpts selected for this paper share a fundamental common denominator: the interpreters are on stage in the TV studio and clearly visible on screen while they assist foreign guests during their conversation with the programme host and the on-site audience.

All three episodes are led by a host who acts as the master of ceremonies. As observed by Straniero Sergio (2007: 117), also in our dataset the hosts exercise their control by setting the topics to be addressed, the pace at which these alternate, and speaking turns, sometimes acting as gatekeepers of guest digressions when these may affect the continuity or the flow of the programme. Both hosts in our recordings are very popular in Italy, have a professional background in journalism and are well known TV celebrities.

Maurizio Costanzo Show was the first, longest-running and probably best-known Italian talk show. Broadcast between 1982 and 2022, it was conceived^[4] and always hosted by the journalist and popular TV presenter Maurizio Costanzo, considered the initiator of the talk show genre in Italy. The programme featured as guests all kinds of personalities, both Italian and international, more or less well known, covering a very wide range of interests, from politics to writing, from music to acting, from journalism to sports. Costanzo usually welcomed his guests on stage and offered them a seat (a sofa, chair or armchair) facing the audience with whom the guests occasionally interacted. Our data set contains interviews with the most diverse personalities, such as writer J.K. Rowling and novelist Ken Follett, actors as Kabir Bedi and Gerald Butler, and even a medium, Rosemary Altea. The episodes we focus on in this paper feature the popular Italian comedian and showman Fiorello, top model Claudia Schiffer and actor Robin Williams who interact with the host and the other guests with the help of an interpreter.

The programme Stirpe Reale (Royal Lineage), broadcast in 1998, consists of four episodes only, each devoted to one of the most popular royal families in Europe. It could be defined as infotainment, a blend of information and entertainment, but again was mainly based on conversations between the guests and the host, Cristina Parodi, a very well-known Italian TV news journalist and anchor woman. The episode we will discuss focuses on the history of the Windsor family and the foreign guest in the programme is writer Lady Colin Campbell, an expert about the history of the British royal family.

Two of the three episodes discussed here feature the same interpreter (I1) who is one of the best-known TV interpreters in Italy since she works for the main broadcasters and for the most popular programmes in Italy and was a ‘regular’ at Maurizio Costanzo Show in all the seasons the programme was aired. The second interpreter in our dataset (I2) is again well-known and has worked for various TV variety shows and infotainment programmes, including the Academy Awards ceremony for over a decade, and kindly provided the recording discussed here. In all our recordings interpreters use chuchotage (or whispered interpreting) when translating from Italian into English for the foreign guests, and consecutive when translating from English into Italian for the hosts, the Italian speaking guests in the programme and the audience both in the studio and at home. In the following section we will discuss some aspects of nonverbal language that will be the focus of our analysis.

4.3 Interpreters’ nonverbal behaviour: our approach

Already at the end of last century, Poyatos stressed that paralanguage and kinetics are inextricably linked with verbal language, and ‘nonverbal modes of communication permeate also films, television, and, in any other real-life encounters, those personal interactions between two or more participants which must be mediated by an interpreter’ (1997a: 1). He had indeed observed that interpreters use also nonverbal signs to convey messages, and several times they even convey them in an exclusively nonverbal mode, and suggested that reasons for that be explored (1997b: 250). Poyatos stated that interpreters intentionally or unintentionally accompany their target language with their own paralanguage (intonation, speed, hesitation, pitch, etc.) and kinetics. He listed a large number of specific components but suggested that they are potentially endless (1997b: 253). Reporting about his own gestures and body language in the booth, UN chief interpreter Viaggio (1997: 290) romantically describes them as follows:

Kinetics is the harmony of intonation; together they are the music of the morpho-syntactical aria the interpreter is singing. Intonation and gestures are bound to be coherent […] they follow the stream of thought and thus create their own inertia.

Krémer and Mejía Quijano (2018: 87) confirm this point stating that even when working in the booth ‘interpreters do not deliver their speeches like emotionless robots’ but reproduce a speech act in full, including nonverbal components, and that ‘changes in voice and prosody and physical movements and gestures, be they conscious or subconscious, can be observed at this stage because the interpreter is addressing the audience as a co-sender of the message’. The two authors (2018: 82) provide a more operational classification of paralanguage to be applied to interpreting, which includes voice levels (volume but also trembling for instance, pace including hesitations), pronunciation (for instance mumbling) and coincidental noises (tongue clicking for instance) while kinetics includes gestures (both voluntary and involuntary), facial expressions and gaze.

Following what Krémer and Mejía Quijano found in simultaneous interpreting and Poyatos’ suggestion to explore nonverbal mode in interpreter mediated communication, we analyse interactions involving interpreters acting on stage in talk shows. An additional feature we noticed in our recordings is that interpreters at times reproduce the speaker’s attitude by mirroring both their facial expression and gestures, for example when they convey puzzlement or perplexity about something that is being said or towards someone on the show.

In the following paragraphs we shall focus on gaze, proxemics, body language, and mirroring. These aspects are inextricably linked and often are concurrently produced by both speakers and interpreters. At times they will be analysed separately just to highlight one or the other, but they often co-occur.

This study was conceived as a preliminary analysis focussing only on those kinetics components that make the interpreter’s presence in a talk show more visible and are associated with activities that are not strictly connected with translating nor needed to convey a nonverbal message or expression produced by one of the primary speakers. For this reason, not all nonverbal communication by the interpreters is systematically analysed, nor was data transcribed with a specific software aligning speech with other modes of communication. Recordings were watched several times, the relevant sequences were transcribed and annotated, and frames for those sequences were extracted from the clips.

5. Data analysis

The following subsections will present and discuss the data selected for this study focusing on four of the nonverbal aspects described above: gaze, proxemics, body language and mirroring.

5.1. Monitoring turn allocation by gaze

An interesting aspect of nonverbal behaviour we found in our data set is the use of gaze by the interpreter to monitor conversational order and coordinate turn allocation. As already observed by Davitti (2015: 168), gaze may also have a ‘regulatory function’ among others in interpreter-mediated interactions since it can be used to contribute to the co-construction of conversational order and to coordinate sequence initiation, maintenance and closure as well as turns-at-talk. At least in principle, in interpreter-mediated face-to-face communication the interpreter translates after each turn by the primary speakers, with turn allocation occurring in different ways: the speaker or another participant may explicitly ask the interpreter to translate what was just said, or they may simply stop speaking to signal the interpreter that they now can translate. In some cases, though, conversation may not follow this pattern and interpreters may have to compete with the speakers to (re)gain their translation space, or to stop overlapping talk, since it is only possible to translate one speaker at a time. This requires initiatives aimed to restore the ‘default’ conversational order of interpreter-mediated communication.

The interpreter in our example uses gaze to make sure that turn allocation proceeds in an orderly manner and to prevent overlapping talk. The same use of gaze to co-construct conversational order was found by Davitti (2013) in a study about interpreted parent-teacher meetings. In the following excerpt from Stirpe Reale (cf. Section 4.2), a smooth and non-intrusive turn exchange is ensured by constant eye contact between the foreign guest and the interpreter, who implement a tacit agreement to allocate and produce each turn from start to finish without overlapping talk. The topic at talk is Princess Diana’s life and in particular her relationship with Dodi Al-Fayed (Transcript 1).

Figure 1: The guest (on the right) waiting for the interpreter to complete translation

Figure 2: Swapping turns

Figure 3: Guest starts talking

Transcript 1^[5]

The interviewee Lady Colin Campbell (G) waits for the interpreter (I2) (on the left in Figures 1-3) to complete her translation turn (Figure 1), the two then glance at each other (Figure 2) and this way signal to each other when it is time for the speaker to produce her next turn while the interpreter carefully listens to her (Figure 3). What this example shows is that at times it is also the interpreter’s nonverbal language which sets the pace and time for turn allocation and makes the two interlocutors agree on whose turn it is to talk.

This way the interpreter becomes an active participant in the exchange by co-constructing and at times managing turn allocation. She silently intervenes and with her gaze guides the conversational order so that it proceeds in the smoothest possible way.

5.2. The use of proxemics: when the interpreter becomes part of the show

Our analysis of proxemics will focus on the interpreter leaning forward or sideways to reach the recipient of her rendition, which is not an unusual position when performing whispered interpreting, as is the case in talk shows when the translation’s recipient is a foreign guest. In this case, the interpreter speaks in a very soft voice, so as not to disturb the other primary speaker(s), but at the same time she must make sure that the recipient of her interpretation can hear her. This posture of the interpreter who is whispering her translation to the foreign guest is made the object of ridicule in our data set, and prompts her to use her proxemics even more, to the point of having physical contact with one of the guests (Figure 4).

Figure 4: Guest 2 (Fiorello, on the left) imitating the proxemics of the interpreter (dressed in yellow)

Figure 4 is taken from an interview with the German top model Claudia Schiffer during an episode of Maurizio Costanzo Show in 1995. The protagonists of the sequence are the top model, Italian comedian Fiorello (G2) and the interpreter (I1). Fiorello’s mocking actually makes the presence of the interpreter more relevant and visible. Her positioning becomes more active immediately after, when she is directly involved for entertainment purposes.

Fiorello uses the presence of the interpreter to make the audience laugh by making fun of the typical movements and postures that whispered interpreting entails, but in doing so he acknowledges her not only for her interpreter-persona, but as a primary communication partner.

From the beginning of the interview Fiorello lays the ground for what will become a comic scene about the interpreter: through his own body language he signals a particular interest towards the interpreter’s presence and specifically towards her job and the proxemics it involves, namely leaning towards the person(s) she is interpreting for, and he makes a surprised face to show amazement at the interpreter’s translation of every single utterance the guest pronounces.

As the conversation unfolds, Fiorello (G2) abruptly changes topic in the middle of his own utterance, addressing the interpreter (I1) with the Italian informal form of address ‘tu’ to ask her a question about her way of translating, in a mocking tone of voice which immediately sparks the audience’s laughter (Transcript 2, turn 1).

Transcript 2

The comedian clearly shows that he is not interested in the interpreter's answer: he goes on with his talk and overlaps with I1’s turn. When he realises that the audience in the studio and at home may not have heard what he was saying in the stretch of overlapping talk, he re-starts his utterance (turn 5). His questions are not meant to investigate the role of the interpreter. Their purpose is humorous, and the comedian’s goal is to entertain the audience and make them laugh by making fun of the interpreter. But by doing so and involving the interpreter in the conversation, albeit briefly, he also draws the audience’s attention to the interpreter herself, thus ratifying her presence as a primary participant (turn 4) and making her even more visible. On her part, the interpreter shows amusement and acceptance of the mockery with her smile (Figure 5). Here too, her personal identity emerges as she allows herself to show a reaction that is not the professional reproduction of someone else’s behaviour, as we can observe also in Transcript 4 and in Figures  9-11 (cf. Section 5.4 below).

5.3 The body language of the interpreter made the object/subject of joke

Shortly after the episode described in Section 5.2, I1 translates an utterance by Claudia Schiffer (G1) (Transcript 3, turn 4), and Fiorello (G2) repeats her translation verbatim (turn 5), pretending he is translating for a fictional and imaginary person seated at his right (Figure 5). In doing so he mocks the interpreter’s attitude and habit of leaning towards the client’s ear to perform whispered interpreting by mimicking the same posture.

Transcript 3

Figure 5: Guest 2 (Fiorello, on the left) pretending to interpret for an imaginary person, the interpreter and Guest 1 (Schiffer, dressed in green) smile at this

The active presence of the interpreter in this interaction becomes even more obvious and glaring in the following sequence where Fiorello overstates his familiarity with I1 with his gesture and body language inviting her to give him a kiss on the cheek (Figure 6). The interpreter seconds and satisfies the request (Figure 7), and the showman reacts with what seems to be a friendly gesture of appreciation (Figure 8).

Figure 6: Guest 2 invites the interpreter to kiss him on the cheek

Figure 7: The interpreter gives Guest 2 a kiss on the cheek

Figure 8: The final reaction of the three protagonists of this scene

Once again, the interpreter is assigned a position as ratified primary participant in the show and accepts it mainly through nonverbal expressions. Rather than questioning whether this peculiar use of proxemics is within or beyond the boundaries of an interpreter’s professional behaviour, one could argue that, as TV talk shows aim at entertaining the audience and participants, and are appreciated for their liveliness and humour, it is only fair that the interpreter too should follow the rule of the TV show game and share the interactional goal of host and guests to entertain the audience, rather than follow conventional interpreting rules about professional demeanour.

In Figure 8 above indeed the two guests and the interpreter appear to be partners in crime: they show intimacy in their having fun together, and the interpreter’s proxemics and facial expression – she is sitting between the two guests, has physical contact and is laughing with them – make her not only visible but also acquire (temporarily) the status of an active participant in the show, like the guests and the host, in the show.

5.4 Mirroring the speaker’s body language

As already mentioned, body language is a substantial nonverbal resource in human communication, and our data show that interpreting is no exception. The analysis of facial expressions and gestures reveals some interesting features of the interpreter’s nonverbal communication which become relevant. In our example when somebody is ridiculed to entertain the audience the interpreter’s facial expressions convey her sense of humour and her understanding of the entertainment context as we saw already in the previous sections.

Another instrument to analyse the interpreter’s body language in talk shows is the dual concept of ghost and intruder introduced by Kopczyński (1998). The Polish author debates whether interpreters playing the ghost role should limit themselves to conveying and reproducing a message through a faithful translation, or also embody the speaker’s intent through paralinguistic and prosodic aspects. We analysed an interview with Robin Williams during the afore-mentioned TV programme Maurizio Costanzo Show interpreted by I1. In this case, the interpreter not only translates the words of the interlocutor, but contributes to the delivery of the message by reproducing the same facial expressions and gestures of the speaker. As suggested by Transcript 4 and the Figure 9-11 below, during a group interview involving a person who claims to be a superior being, actor Williams raises his hand to ask for the floor (turn 1, Figure 9) and ironically questions the attire of the other guest. His gesture is mimicked by the interpreter in her translation (turn 2, Figure 10).

Transcript 4

Figure 9: Guest Robin Williams raises his hand to ask for the floor

Figure 10: The interpreter mimics the guest’s gesture while translating

Figure 11: The interpreter reproduces the guest’s verbal and nonverbal message

Figures 10 and 11 show the interpreter frowning while translating, reproducing also with her body language the disapproval and scepticism previously expressed by Robin Williams, who now in turn looks rather amused. To accurately convey this attitude with words would probably require a lengthy and elaborated verbal expression whereas the interpreter’s facial expression mirrors the speaker’s mood and pragmatic purpose. To this respect Krémer and Mejía Quijano (2018: 87) claim that

[t]he desire to adopt the role of co-speaker makes the interpreter a fully-fledged contributor to the communication scenario by giving him/her the status of ‘participant’ rather than a third party external to the act of speech. Only when s/he becomes a true co-sender of the message can s/he really address the audience in this other language which s/he shares with them.

Poyatos (1997b: 206) goes a step further and suggests that we should ‘recognise that the barrier imposed by the purely lexical limitation of our lexicon can be overcome by means of nonverbal elements of whatever type when they are added to those words’. It is not possible to say whether these moves are conscious or instinctive and un/subconscious, but it is worth highlighting them because they illustrate the presence and active participation of the interpreters on the talk show as persons in their entirety and not only in their professional role. For sure – at least in this case – the interpreter is neither a ghost, nor an intruder; she is simply (voluntarily or involuntarily) transferring the attitude of the speaker to the recipients of her rendition. This confirms the multiplicity of positions an interpreter can dynamically take up based on other participants’ nonverbal behaviour. It also brings to light the human side of the professional who conveys not only the verbal and paraverbal expressions of the primary interlocutors, but also embodies the nonverbal components of communication.

6. Conclusions

This study attempts to expand the analysis of TV talk shows to embrace the nonverbal aspects of communication in interpreter-mediated conversations and to highlight how they may impact the interpreter’s visibility and position in the show. Our findings are limited in terms of scale, number of interpreters, TV genre and interpreting mode and therefore they cannot be generalised. Talk shows are light-hearted broadcasts based on relaxed conversations. A more adversarial interaction might have restricted the interpreters’ ‘behavioural space’ and nonverbal communication. Despite these limitations, however, our analysis brings once again to the fore the importance of situatedness and embodiment in interpreting ‘given the temporal and spatial immediacy of the interaction and the interpreter’s use of their body in source-text processing and especially in target text production’ (Pöchhacker 2024: 13). Francesco Straniero Sergio’s work anticipated this concept long time ago, and this study confirms this view and highlights how the conventional image of the interpreter as a secondary participant with their own professional rules and behaviours cannot fully apply in TV talk show settings. Both interpreter 1 and interpreter 2 adopt nonverbal moves which favour not only the interaction among Italian hosts and foreign guests but also their way of entertaining the audience, to the point of taking a joke and showing their own sense of humour.

The two interpreters at work in our recordings use nonverbal language for different interactional purposes which are not necessarily linked to their translation task and make them more visible than they would otherwise be. As shown in Figures 1-3 and Transcript 1, the interpreter uses gaze to guarantee a smooth turn transition between her and the guest she is interpreting, ensuring conversational order and avoiding overlapping talk. This is a self-initiated nonverbal interactional move in contrast with the following Figure (4) and Transcript 2 which feature an other-initiated exchange involving the interpreter for entertainment purposes. In this case the Italian comedian on the show ridicules the interpreter’s activity both verbally, by repeating utterances as interpreters do after each turn (Transcript 3), and nonverbally (Figure 5), by mimicking the typical interpreters' proxemics of leaning towards the person they are interpreting for. By doing so he elicits the interpreter’s verbal and nonverbal responses and makes her more visible. Later on, during the same sequence, the comedian sets the scene for another instance of interpreter’s involvement in his act, that is, he asks the interpreter to give him a kiss (Figure 6), an invitation accepted by the interpreter (Figure 7). This temporarily changes the atmosphere and the position of the interpreter with respect to the two guests on the show. Not only do the three of them share the same space, physically and in the frame (Figure 8), but their proxemics and facial expression show complicity almost to the point of intimacy. Another aspect of the interpreter’s nonverbal behaviour which is coproduced with her verbal rendition is mimicking (Figures 9, 10, 11 and Transcript 4). Here the interpreter reproduces the same body language and facial expressions of the foreign speaker she is interpreting as if she wanted to fully convey both his verbal and nonverbal message. What emerges is that in a talk show setting the interpreter may (have to) adjust to the rules of the talk show game. Guests and hosts in our dataset have their own agenda and the interpreters have to use their soft skills to adapt to the situation at hand. This entails flexibility, fast decision-making and self-confidence based on the awareness that by adopting certain nonverbal behaviours one does not diminish one’s professional image as an interpreter who accepts to play by the TV show rules. More data is needed to confirm our findings and use them in interpreter training programmes which should be increasingly open to different interpreting avenues than conference or public service only.

Different contexts require different professional and personal skills, and students should be familiarised with different settings where interpreting is needed besides conferences, including TV programmes and the film industry for instance. Teaching interpreting students to adjust their professional behaviour to peculiar situations, such as the ones analysed in this study, is crucial for their future as professionals.

About the author(s)

Amalia Amato, PhD, is an associate professor in English language, translation, and linguistics at the Department of Interpreting and Translation of the University of Bologna, Forlì campus, where she teaches interpreting. She has participated in five EU-funded research projects on legal interpreting, remote interpreting, use of an AI-based CAI tool in interpreting and interpreting for accompanied and unaccompanied migrant children. Her main research interests also include interpreter education/training, media interpreting and interpreters’ health and wellbeing. She is an editor of inTRAlinea.

Shanì Harari holds a Bachelor's Degree in Interpreting and Translation Studies from the University of Trieste where she majored Spanish, English and French, and a Master's Degree in Conference Interpreting from the University of Bologna, Forlì campus, where she specialized in Spanish and English. Her Master's thesis focuses on the role of interpreters in television settings, specifically on consecutive interpreting in talk shows, with the aim of analysing the interpreter's participation and prominence in public-facing communication contexts.

Gabriele Mack is an associate professor in German language, translation, and linguistics at the Department of Interpreting and Translation of the University of Bologna, Forlì campus, where she teaches interpreting between German and Italian. She has taken part in four EU-funded research projects on pre-trial interpreting in criminal proceedings, interpreting for children in legal settings and interpreting for unaccompanied children in migration and refugee settings. Her main research interests also include interpreter education and training, assessment of interpreting as a process and a product, the representation of interpreters in literature, media interpreting, dialogue interpreting in legal settings, interpreting for children and adolescents, and interpreters’ health and wellbeing.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

English:

Research in Talkshow Interpreting has traditionally studied interpreters’ participation and coordinating activity in talk shows where they share the stage with primary participants and translate in the consecutive mode. This article focuses on the only-in-voice presence of a simultaneous interpreter in the Italian talk show Che tempo che fa and illustrates through three excerpts drawn from a corpus of 11  interpreter-mediated interviews his active participation (or ‘visibility’) in interactions, which is driven by primary participants' verbal and non-verbal behaviour or by his own translating and coordinating actions. The first and second excerpts will illustrate how direct and indirect references to the off-screen interpreter contribute to making him an active co-participant. The first and third excerpts also analyse how the off-screen interpreter himself contributes to the topic and turn-taking management, in either competitive or collaborative coordination with the host. The quantitative analysis of the participants’ speaking time in the interactions transcribed with ELAN confirms the active participation of the off-screen interpreter in simultaneously interpreted talk show interviews.

Italian:

La ricerca sul Talkshow Interpreting ha tradizionalmente indagato l’attività di coordinamento e la partecipazione dell’interprete in talk show in cui l’interprete condivide la scena con i partecipanti primari e traduce in consecutiva. Questo articolo si concentrerà sulla partecipazione attiva (o ‘visibilità’) dell’interprete simultaneista nel talk show italiano Che tempo che fa e illustrerà tramite tre esempi estratti da un corpus di 11 interviste tradotte come questa possa essere indotta dal comportamento verbale e non verbale di intervistatore e intervistato, nonché dall’attività di coordinamento dell’interprete stesso. I primi due esempi analizzati mostrano come i riferimenti diretti e indiretti di intervistatore e intervistati al servizio di interpretazione/all’interprete in sola voce contribuiscano a renderlo un co-partecipante attivo dell’intervista tradotta in simultanea. Il primo e il terzo esempio illustrano inoltre come l’interprete contribuisca a gestire la progressione tematica e l’alternanza dei turni dei parlanti primari in coordinamento competitivo o collaborativo con il conduttore, pur traducendo in simultanea. Anche l’analisi quantitativa del tempo di parola per partecipante nelle interazioni trascritte con ELAN conferma la partecipazione attiva dell’interprete in sola voce nelle interviste del talk show tradotte in simultanea.

Keywords: talkshow interpreting, simultaneous dialogue interpreting, off-screen simultaneous interpreter, verbal and non-verbal behaviour, coordinating activity, participation, direct and indirect references to the off-screen interpreter, competitive and collaborative coordination, interpretazione dialogica simultanea, interprete simultaneista in sola voce, comportamento verbale e non verbale, attività di coordinamento, partecipazione, riferimenti diretti e indiretti al servizio di interpretazioneall’interprete, coordinamento collaborativo e competitivo

1. Introduzione

Questo contributo, come quello di Harari, Amato e Mack in questo stesso volume, nasce da una tesi di laurea magistrale (Sannolla 2023) che deve molto a Francesco Straniero Sergio. Per questo motivo abbiamo deciso di introdurli con due sguardi tra loro complementari (e per questo più ampi di quanto sarebbe richiesto per introdurre l’oggetto trattato nel singolo contributo) sulla ricerca di questo grande studioso, scomparso oltre 12 anni fa, che è stato uno dei pionieri del ‘“going video” (of) interpreting studies […] in terms of technical as well as conceptual research tools’ (Pöchhacker 2020: 40). La ricerca in interpretazione per i media in generale e in/per la televisione in particolare è oggi più che mai attiva; qui ci limiteremo a una rapida panoramica su ambiti di indagine vecchi e più recenti, per abbozzare l’evoluzione delle linee di ricerca e identificare le nuove strade battute a partire dal 2012 sia nell’ambito degli studi orientati alla percezione e ricezione del prodotto dell’interpretazione nei media, sia in quello degli studi che utilizzano gli strumenti dell’analisi del discorso e della conversazione per indagare relazioni tra i partecipanti e dinamiche interazionali nella comunicazione mediata sullo schermo. Per motivi di spazio restringeremo il focus della ricerca all’interpretazione consecutiva e simultanea tra lingue vocali, cercando di raggruppare e categorizzare in vario modo ambiti, metodologie e approcci degli oltre 240 lavori di ricerca da noi censiti relativi al periodo dal 2012 alla metà del 2024, tra cui oltre 65 tesi di laurea. Saranno pertanto escluse l’interpretazione televisiva in lingua dei segni (garantita in molti paesi per obbligo di legge nel quadro degli access services), le applicazioni del respeaking (con interpreti impegnati a produrre sottotitoli in tempo reale) e l’interpretazione alla radio, come pure le applicazioni didattiche di materiali e studi in questo ambito.

L’interprete nei media e i vari fruitori della sua traduzione sono stati categorizzati in vario modo (cf. ad esempio Mack 2002; Falbo 2012; Pöchhacker 2010, 2018). Prescindendo dai dettagli delle classificazioni proposte, i principali elementi di discrimine sono tre: le tipologie di fruitori dell’interpretazione, il modo di interpretazione adottato, e la presenza dell’interprete soltanto come voce o anche in video. All’interno della medesima trasmissione questi elementi possono essere variamente combinati, dando luogo a una notevole varietà di configurazioni. Oltre all’imprescindibile pubblico ‘a casa’ che segue la trasmissione dal vivo oppure la fruirà in differita, l’interprete (da solo o in équipe con altri) può infatti fungere da tramite in contemporanea anche per gli interlocutori (e l’eventuale pubblico) presenti ‘sul set’. Può lavorare in consecutiva o in simultanea/chuchotage, e può anche alternare questi modi, oppure usarli in maniera differenziata a seconda degli interlocutori, traducendo ad esempio simultaneamente ma sottovoce (in chuchotage appunto) per l’ospite straniero e in consecutiva per il conduttore e il pubblico. Secondo le scelte della regia può infine comparire in video oppure essere solo udibile, come voce che si sovrappone a o sostituisce del tutto quella del parlante straniero. Un caso particolare è quello, contemplato qui solo marginalmente, in cui la figura del conduttore/presentatore/intervistatore coincide con quella dell’interprete.

A prescindere dalle categorizzazioni adottate, l’interprete presente in video e l’attività che vi svolge continuano ad attirare interesse per vari motivi:

- il suo lavoro è qui percepibile per il grande pubblico come in nessun altro contesto, contraddicendo con l’evidenza dei fatti l’idea di interprete ‘invisibile’;

- comportamenti e scelte sue e dei suoi interlocutori rivelano le norme interiorizzate in relazione a cos’è e cosa dovrebbe fare l’interprete;

- l’occhio esterno di utenti e pubblico può rivelare in svariati modi come utilizzatori e media vedono, rappresentano e giudicano il ruolo e l’operato dell’interprete;

- l’interpretazione per i media è una palestra e vetrina per nuove forme di mediazione linguistica;

- e, non da ultimo, il mezzo usato spesso consente un accesso relativamente agevole e ripetibile non solo a registrazioni, ma anche a dati complementari di varia natura, come informazioni sui partecipanti o sull’evento trasmesso.

Nonostante il ritmo abbastanza sostenuto con cui si sono susseguite le pubblicazioni in questo ambito dopo il 2012, non si intravedono per ora singoli autori che si siano dedicati all’interpretazione per i media con l’assiduità di Straniero Sergio, anche se nella bibliografia recente si incontrano nomi prestigiosi che si sono occupati ripetutamente dell’argomento, come Merlini (2017; Merlini e Picchio 2019 sull’interpretazione nei festival cinematografici trasmessi in streaming), Pöchhacker (2018, sulla ricezione dell’interpretazione nei media da parte del pubblico), e soprattutto Schäffner (2012a,b, 2015a, 2017), che ha portato avanti la sua rigorosa ricerca su discorso politico, visibilità della traduzione e norme applicandola anche all’analisi di conferenze stampa interpretate. Englund Dimitrova (2019) ha invece descritto un esempio di dual-role mediator in un talk show svedese che Straniero Sergio (1999) avrebbe censito come ‘mediatore antagonista’ (una figura indagata anche da Ghignoli e Torres Díaz (2015) nell’interpretazione di interviste in ambito sportivo per la televisione spagnola). Un interessante rovesciamento di questa prospettiva emerge invece dalle ricerche di Arzık Erzurumlu (2016, 2019a) sulla figura dell’interprete-redattore-commentatore in alcuni canali di news turchi.

Pure l’idea precorritrice di Straniero Sergio di superare l’approccio parziale e ‘impressionistico’ del case study con la costruzione di un corpus inteso come sforzo collettivo e risorsa condivisa è stata ripresa in vari casi e, nonostante le diverse condizioni di oggi, si sta dimostrando ancora impresa affamata di risorse e irta di difficoltà tecniche. CorIT, il lascito di Francesco Straniero Sergio, è stato custodito nella sua Trieste da Caterina Falbo (2012, 2018) e utilizzato per numerose tesi di laurea nonché per le ricerche collegate al progetto di dottorato di Dal Fovo (ad esempio 2014, 2018) sull’interpretazione di dibattiti presidenziali pre-elettorali (e, in minore misura, di discorsi di personaggi politici più o meno carismatici), genere questo molto studiato soprattutto da laureandi, non solo triestini, e da ricercatori come Boyd (2016) e Arzık Erzurumlu (2019b). Un altro corpus è SIREN, composto da interpretazioni tra il russo e l’inglese tratte dalla web tv delle Nazioni Unite e da materiali trasmessi dall’agenzia di video news Ruptly, costruito ed esplorato da Dayter in una serie di pubblicazioni (ad esempio 2018, 2021a, 2021b). Uno dei corpora più grandi e noti di interpretazioni ‘mediatiche’ in senso lato (cf. la discussione nell’introduzione a Harari, Amato e Mack, in questo volume) è EPIC, il European Parliament Interpreting Corpus realizzato a partire dal 2004 in quello che è oggi il Dipartimento di Interpretazione e Traduzione (DIT) dell’Università di Bologna. Il corpus, che comprende registrazioni e trascrizioni di discorsi e interpretazioni in italiano, inglese e spagnolo, dal quale hanno preso le mosse iniziative analoghe in Polonia (TIC, Kajzer-Wietrzny 2012 e PINC, Chmiel, Janikowski e Koržinek 2023) e in Belgio (EPIC-G, Defrancq 2015), nel frattempo è stato ampliato alla traduzione scritta, il che permette indagini in prospettiva intermodale (EPTIC) (cf. Russo, Bendazzoli e Sandrelli 2012; Bernardini, Ferraresi e Milicevic 2016; Kajzer-Wietrzny et al. 2023).

Anche l’archivio interpreti di Forlì, molti dei cui contenuti risalgono a registrazioni su cassette VHS effettuate negli anni Novanta proprio su sollecitazione di Straniero Sergio, pur non costituendo un corpus, ha fornito e sta fornendo materiali per molte delle numerose tesi di laurea discusse sull’argomento presso il DIT, che sono almeno una quindicina tra il 2012 e il 2024^[1]. Corpora più piccoli relativi all’interpretazione nei media in Italia sono quelli raccolti per le tesi di dottorato di Picchio sul festival del cinema di Giffoni (2023) e il corpus FOOTIE di Sandrelli (2015, 2017, 2018) sulle conferenze stampa in ambito calcistico. Di conferenze stampa, in questo caso con interpretazione inglese-giapponese, è costituito anche il Japan National Press Club Corpus (JNPCC), uno dei più importanti realizzati in Asia, che nasce dal tradizionale interesse degli studiosi giapponesi per l’interpretazione nell’ambito dell’informazione (news interpreting; cf. Tsuruta 2015). Video originali, registrazioni audio, metadati e trascrizioni relative a circa 77 ore di conferenze stampa interpretate in simultanea e consecutiva sono disponibili online e possono essere visualizzati utilizzando il software gratuito ELAN (Matsushita, Yamada e Ishizuka 2020: 87). Nella sua seconda fase questo progetto è stato esteso anche a combinazioni linguistiche che non comprendono l’inglese (Matsushita, Furukawa e Yoshida 2022).

La percezione del lavoro e del ruolo dell’interprete da parte dei suoi interlocutori e del pubblico televisivo, un argomento tematizzato spesso da Straniero Sergio, è stata ripresa da Chevalier (2019) nella sua tesi di dottorato incentrata sui commenti a estratti di interpretazioni trasmesse in televisione o sul web. Un tentativo diverso e molto peculiare di indagare la percezione dei fruitori è quello di De Gregoris (2015), che si è servito di un questionario basato sulla teoria gestaltica per una valutazione olistica dell’interpretazione simultanea televisiva. Un filone di ricerca che si interseca con questo e relativo a un tipo di evento di cui già Straniero Sergio aveva raccolto assiduamente le registrazioni, pur senza mai dedicarvi un lavoro specifico, è l’interpretazione in occasione dell’annuale conferimento dei premi dell’Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS). Alle numerose tesi di laurea su questo argomento si è aggiunto di recente un interessante studio di Arzık Erzurumlu e Yilmaz (2023) sui tweet di commento alle dirette televisive degli Oscar interpretate in turco dal 2010 al 2020 e le loro ripercussioni sul lavoro e il reclutamento degli interpreti. Un altro lavoro di Arzık Erzurumlu (2019c) riguarda l’ampia discussione sulla stampa turca relativa a un presunto errore fatto da un interprete in occasione della conferenza stampa congiunta tra il presidente americano Trump e quello turco Erdoğan.

Il filone di ricerca probabilmente più ricco di Straniero Sergio è però quello dedicato al talk show, indagato principalmente con gli strumenti dell’analisi della conversazione (AC) (cf. Harari, Amato e Mack in questo volume), di cui fa parte anche la tesi di laurea forlivese da cui nasce questo contributo. Sannolla (2023) si inserisce infatti negli studi sui talk show con un lavoro che riprende alcuni concetti elaborati da Straniero Sergio (1999, 2007, 2012) per l’analisi di casi in cui l’interprete è al servizio di partecipanti primari con cui condivide la scena; li applica però a Che Tempo che fa, un programma di infotainment in cui l’interprete lavora in simultanea e non è visibile sullo schermo.

2. Il corpus Che Tempo che fa: premesse, dati e strumenti di analisi

Il talk show Che Tempo che fa è stato oggetto di diverse tesi di laurea (ad esempio Zangoli 2008; Campi 2011; Sicari 2011; Sinniah 2020). Straniero Sergio nel suo libro gli dedica un solo esempio (2007: 231-232), dove è però già evidente che, pur essendo il contributo dell’interprete in sola voce, i partecipanti lo considerano un interlocutore a tutti gli effetti. Sannolla (2023) affronta l’argomento sotto il profilo, solo apparentemente incongruo, della ‘visibilità’ dell’interprete televisivo che lavora in simultanea da una cabina e quindi non viene mai inquadrato dalle telecamere. Segue in questo una strada già indicata da Straniero Sergio (2007: 529-534) in due dei paragrafi conclusivi della sua monografia, intitolati Visibilità e coinvolgimento spettacolare e Visibilità e gestione dei turni. Straniero Sergio non mette in campo il concetto di agency (agentività), che, negli studi sull’interpretazione, vedremo sviluppato in anni successivi anche sulla scia di Inghilleri (2005) e Schäffner (2008, 2015b), ma la sua osservazione che ‘[l]a visibilità dell’interprete si manifesta […] nello stabilire la lunghezza dei turni dell’ospite, nell’iniziare etero-riparazioni e nell’attivazione di strategie di cessione, mantenimento e appropriazione del turno’ (Straniero Sergio 2007: 531, corsivo nell’originale) è di particolare pregnanza in quanto sembra anticipare il concetto di agency e merita di conseguenza di essere ripresa e approfondita.

Rifacendosi a distinzioni utilizzate da Straniero Sergio (2003) e Falbo (2012), Caniglia e Zanettin (2021: 160) puntualizzano che l’interpretazione in praesentia può avvenire in due diverse situazionalità: quella che chiamano shared setting, dove il discorso tradotto è sussurrato all’ospite straniero o pronunciato a voce alta da un interprete presente in scena e dunque visibile ai partecipanti e al pubblico televisivo, e quello che chiamano displaced setting^[2], dove l’interprete lavora da una postazione remota ed è presente solo come voce udibile dai partecipanti primari e dal pubblico. Un ulteriore elemento importante, di cui pochi studi hanno tenuto finora conto esplicitamente, è il fatto che gli interpreti che lavorano in simultanea possono essere uno o due: nel primo caso l’interprete traduce da e verso la lingua straniera a beneficio di tutti i partecipanti, pubblico televisivo compreso; nel secondo caso, un interprete traduce l’ospite in italiano e la sua voce viene sovrapposta a quella dell’ospite, l’altro lavora a beneficio del solo ospite, e il pubblico televisivo raramente ne avverte la presenza. Straniero Sergio (2007: 231) si riferisce a quest’ultimo fenomeno come a ‘turni prodotti non “in chiaro”’.

Il fatto che l’interprete in praesentia nel setting condiviso partecipi attivamente alla conversazione in studio e contribuisca anche lui a definire i turni di parola dei partecipanti primari, sostenendo di volta in volta i progetti comunicativi di intervistatori o intervistati, era già stato osservato da diversi autori, ad esempio da Wadensjö (2008) in un celebre studio su un’intervista interpretata di Gorbachev trasmessa dalla BBC. Come Straniero Sergio, anche la studiosa svedese ha fatto ampio uso dei concetti di footing e participation framework di Goffman (1981), aggiungendo al quadro anche la prospettiva dell’ascoltatore (Wadensjö 1998: 91-92). Caniglia e Zanettin (2021) hanno rintracciato la medesima partecipazione attiva dell’interprete in due talk show di confrontainment (dove il dibattito – generalmente politico – si basa su una spettacolarizzazione del confronto/conflitto tra persone con posizioni diverse) con interpretazione simultanea in situazionalità dislocata (Dimartedì e 8 e mezzo), dimostrando così la validità dell’apparato teorico-metodologico dell’AC anche in questo caso. Sannolla (2023) ha ripreso questa scelta metodologica applicandola al talk show Che tempo che fa per analizzare come l’interprete simultaneista e i partecipanti primari co-costruiscono l’interazione.

Il corpus di Sannolla (2023), usato anche in questo studio, si compone di 11 interviste in cui lo stesso interprete, Paolo Maria Noseda, traduce dal francese, dall’inglese o dallo spagnolo all’italiano, selezionate su un totale di 153 puntate lungo un arco temporale che va dal 2004 al 2022. Le interviste sono state interamente trascritte con ELAN^[3], scelto essenzialmente per tre motivi. Il primo è che si tratta, ad oggi, di uno dei software più utilizzati negli Interpreting Studies che consente la condivisione con altri ricercatori che ne facciano uso (come per il corpus JNPCC di cui sopra, o per il corpus AIM, cf. Corradini, Urlotti e Gavioli 2024). In secondo luogo, ELAN offre la possibilità di un duplice sguardo sui dati: da un lato quello qualitativo, con un’analisi conversazionale dei contributi – essenzialmente verbali e paraverbali – nel nostro caso dell’intervistatore o host (sempre Fabio Fazio, HFF negli esempi), degli intervistati o guests (di volta in volta segnalati con G e le iniziali di nome e cognome) e dell’interprete (sempre Paolo Maria Noseda, IPN negli esempi, attraverso cui renderemo ampiamente conto di questo sguardo qualitativo); dall’altro lo sguardo quantitativo, in questo articolo solo marginalmente trattato nella sezione 3.4, con l’estrazione di dati numerici sulla partecipazione di intervistatore, intervistati e interprete nelle singole interviste del corpus (cf. Figura 1). Da ultimo, ma non per ordine di importanza, ELAN consente di ampliare e rifinire i dati inserendo un numero potenzialmente illimitato di righe (tiers) per aggiungere in corso d’opera la trascrizione e/o la codifica di fenomeni che inizialmente non si erano presi in considerazione. Il vantaggio non è di poco conto, visto che codificare non è più considerato un approccio eretico nell’AC (Stivers 2015), dove già negli anni Ottanta si era assistito a un cambiamento di rotta verso un paradigma anche quantitativo, come ben espone Orletti (2023).

Fig. 1: Estrazione di dati quantitativi (a sinistra) e qualitativi (a destra) in ELAN

Alla luce dei primi risultati ottenuti in Sannolla (2023) e di studi che valorizzano la dimensione incarnata delle interazioni (Nevile 2015; Mondada 2019) e mostrano i promettenti risultati di analisi multimodali di interpretazioni (Davitti 2019), anche televisive (Li, Liu e Cheung 2023), si è deciso di aggiungere alle prime trascrizioni un secondo livello a granularità più fine, con l’inserimento di fotogrammi e di un tier dedicato agli elementi non-verbali pertinenti per l’analisi (riportati in grigio negli esempi che seguiranno). Questo ha permesso di rendere conto di come si possano esprimere anche tramite gesti, movimenti della testa e direzionalità dello sguardo di chi è visibile in studio e sullo schermo tutta una serie di riferimenti diretti al servizio di interpretazione, all’interprete e al setting da cui lavora (Straniero Sergio 1999: 311-314), il controllo tecnico e la spettacolarizzazione di problemi audio (Straniero Sergio 2007: 135-144), e il comportamento collaborativo o competitivo del conduttore rispetto all’interprete (Straniero Sergio 2012: 72). Sarà così possibile documentare come anche le azioni non- o co-verbali dell’intervistatore, e in misura minore degli intervistati, contribuiscono a costruire e a modulare l’identità partecipativa dell’interprete e a renderlo ‘visibile’, pur essendo presente in sola voce.

Prima di introdurre gli esempi, richiamiamo brevemente alcuni studi che si sono occupati di forme di conversazione asimmetrica come quella in analisi, dove il conduttore Fabio Fazio funge sempre da ‘figura guida’ o ‘regista’ di un’interazione fortemente diseguale (Orletti 2000: 13) e come tale gode di diritti conversazionali impari rispetto agli altri partecipanti, esercitando diversi tipi di dominanza. Dei quattro tipi individuati da Orletti richiamiamo qui solo i due che sono direttamente pertinenti per la nostra analisi, ossia la dominanza quantitativa, che è la ‘differenza esistente fra i partecipanti in termini di quantità di spazio interazionale a disposizione’ (Orletti 2000: 14), e la dominanza interazionale, che Orletti definisce come il potere che un parlante ha di compiere mosse ‘forti’, come ad esempio le domande, che danno avvio a sequenze di turni e determinano così le azioni successive dell’altro parlante. Pertinente per la nostra analisi si è dimostrata anche la distinzione che l’autrice propone tra due diverse pratiche di glossa: le ‘glosse verbali’, che tra le principali funzioni hanno quella di riformulare quanto un altro parlante ha detto^[4]; e le ‘glosse corporee’, un insieme di elementi multimodali quali la postura, l’orientamento del corpo e il contatto visivo che ‘concorrono con le parole a definire la situazione in corso, e permettono di arrivare a una definizione concertata di attività e situazioni’ (Orletti 2023: 21-22). L’importanza delle glosse corporee, che Orletti (2000) aveva già intuito prima che gli studi sulla multimodalità prendessero piede, emerge chiaramente nei suoi studi del 2022 e 2023, dove l’autrice mostra come sguardi e posture del medico contribuiscano a definire il quadro partecipativo della visita e a costruire un’attività di ‘spiegazione’ a cui partecipa anche la paziente. Entrambe le tipologie di glosse si rivelano utili, seppure in un contesto completamente diverso, per rendere conto delle risorse semiotiche messe in campo da intervistatore e intervistati nelle puntate analizzate di Che tempo che fa.

Tra gli sviluppi più recenti dell’AC, oltre alle svolte quantitativa e multimodale di cui sopra, vi è anche il programma epistemico promosso da Heritage (2011) che, esplorando i cosiddetti ‘territories of knowledge’, caratterizza le interazioni come un monitoraggio costante di quello che i partecipanti sanno. Heritage e Raymond (2005) mostrano ad esempio come l’autorità epistemica venga negoziata in ambito medico, dove le moderne forme di comunicazione centrata sul paziente possono mettere in discussione la tradizionale distribuzione gerarchica dell’autorità (e di conseguenza dei turni di parola) che si basa sul primato del medico. Come ben riassumono Baraldi e Luppi (2015: 583), sottolineando che medico e paziente contribuiscono entrambi, con le loro (ri)formulazioni, alla negoziazione dell’autorità epistemica, ‘in a hierarchical form of communication, providers’ epistemic authority is upgraded by providers’ actions that claim their primary rights and responsibilities in knowledge. In a patient-centred form of communication, by contrast, providers’ epistemic authority is downgraded by patients’ active participation in the production of knowledge’.

Gli ultimi concetti teorici che qui richiamiamo brevemente, poiché complementari a quello goffmaniano di footing che tanta fortuna ha avuto negli studi sull’interpretazione, sono la succitata agency (Diriker 2021; Baraldi 2023) e il positioning (Harré e van Langenhove 1999; Mason 2023). Il termine agency in discipline diverse rinvia a oggetti di studio diversi, che non abbiamo qui lo spazio di approfondire: rimandiamo a Bazzanella (2009) per una trattazione sinottica e a Delizée (2021) per un’integrazione metodologica di footing e positioning in un duplice focus analitico. Nelle nostre interviste l’agency viene intesa come il diritto di parola e di partecipazione attiva all’interazione in corso, e può essere determinata dai ruoli istituzionali e conversazionali di cui i parlanti sono investiti (Bazzanella 2009: 254). Pur riconoscendosi reciprocamente l’agency, i partecipanti possono a tratti contendersela, oppure cercare di sottrarla al proprio interlocutore. Un conflitto temporaneo di questo tipo diventa visibile in prossimità delle sovrapposizioni (Bazzanella 2009: 254-255), ovvero quei casi di ‘affollamento di turno’ (Straniero Sergio 2007: 235) che violano le norme basilari della conversazione, in primo luogo quella di parlare uno alla volta. L’agency, molto studiata nell’interpretazione per i servizi pubblici, dove l’analisi di dati autentici ha mostrato che gli interpreti prendono iniziative e producono conoscenza (Baraldi 2023: 47), è stata rilevata meno frequentemente nell’interpretazione simultanea. Diriker (2021) ha però mostrato che l’interprete collabora alla costruzione del significato (dando così prova di agency) anche quando, come nel nostro caso, lavora in simultanea. Il concetto di positioning, strettamente collegato a quello di agency, ugualmente rinvia ad ambiti disciplinari diversi dagli Interpreting studies. Mason lo ha approfondito e applicato alle interazioni mediate e ha mostrato che l’idea del ruolo dell’interprete, che la letteratura ha lamentato essere insufficiente a descrivere la dinamicità delle attività che lo vedono coinvolto (cf. Leanza 2005; Merlini 2009; Llewellyn-Jones e Lee 2014), può essere sostituita con la nozione di posizionamento. Applicando la positioning theory di Harré e van Langenhove (1999), Mason (2009: 53) osserva infatti che i partecipanti a un’interazione mediata ‘position themselves and others and are in turn positioned by others’ moves’ e mette in evidenza come l’interprete agisca in uno spazio condiviso e co-costruito con gli altri partecipanti, che con le loro azioni possono determinare posizionamenti diversi da quelli traduttivi idealmente associati all’interprete.

3. Analisi dei dati: tre esempi di visibilità dell’interprete in sola voce

I primi due esempi che discuteremo qui mostrano il modo in cui le mosse conversazionali del conduttore e dell’ospite in studio contribuiscono a costruire e a modificare l’identità partecipativa dell’interprete, a ratificarne la presenza e a renderlo ‘visibile’, benché egli non venga mai inquadrato da nessuna telecamera. Si osserverà che conduttore e ospite posizionano l’interprete come partecipante all’interazione con glosse verbali, sotto forma di riferimenti diretti al servizio di interpretazione o all’interprete, e con glosse corporee, sotto forma di riferimenti indiretti al luogo in cui si trova l’interprete, che in Che tempo che fa sappiamo essere una cabina di traduzione collocata ‘in alto’ (Noseda 2012: 248). Sollecitato da intervistatore e intervistato, l’interprete è indotto a parlare per sé e non per conto terzi e così agisce in uno spazio co-costruito con i partecipanti primari, contribuendo non solo a plasmarne l’identità partecipativa, ma anche alla progressione tematica dell’interazione.

Il primo e il terzo esempio illustreranno, inoltre, due casi antitetici di coordinamento del parlato dialogico in simultanea da parte dell’interprete. Con l’analisi del comportamento di conduttore e interprete all’occorrere di un caso di affollamento di turno nell’esempio 1 e di un caso di co-produzione del turno traduttivo nell’esempio 3, si mostrerà come, pur traducendo in simultanea e da un luogo dislocato da dove l’intervista avviene, l’interprete contribuisca alla gestione dei turni di parola tra intervistatore e intervistato e a gestire l’andamento dell’interazione in coordinamento rispettivamente competitivo e collaborativo con il conduttore.

Per facilitare la visualizzazione dei fenomeni osservati, nelle trascrizioni useremo il grassetto per i turni che commenteremo e indicheremo in grigio gli elementi non-verbali pertinenti per l’analisi, rimandando tramite il segno # ad alcuni fotogrammi che seguiranno ciascun estratto. Si sottolinea che è stato trascritto solo l’inizio del turno di ogni ospite straniero perché il resto non era udibile, data la sovrapposizione della voce dell’interprete a quella dell’ospite e l’abbassamento del volume della voce di quest’ultimo previsti dal programma. In ciascuno degli estratti presentati, il turno sovrapposto viene riportato immediatamente sotto al turno al quale si sovrappone e il prosieguo dopo la parentesi quadra del turno interrotto viene riportato nel turno successivo alla sovrapposizione. Inoltre, ogni turno di parola dell’ospite (in inglese, spagnolo o francese) è seguito dalla traduzione in italiano in corsivo^[5].

3.1 ‘Paolo non prenderti libertà’

L’esempio 1 è tratto da una puntata andata in onda il 20 marzo 2011, e l’intervista da cui è estratto dura 19 minuti^[6]. I partecipanti sono il conduttore Fabio Fazio (HFF), l’interprete Paolo Maria Noseda (IPN) e lo scrittore statunitense Jonathan Franzen (GJF). L’esempio si colloca a metà dell’intervista, subito dopo un turno molto lungo di GJF interamente tradotto da Noseda. Concluso il proprio turno e in attesa che l’interprete finisca di tradurlo, Franzen sembra intenzionato a lasciare la parola a Fazio, affinché questo possa porre la domanda successiva. Lo si evince dal fatto che, proprio in quel momento, lo scrittore prende in mano una bottiglietta d’acqua. L’estratto si apre con il turno 1 di HFF in cui il conduttore, immediatamente dopo la fine del turno traduttivo, tenta di porre una domanda a GJF, senza però riuscirci, perché inaspettatamente l’ospite riprende a parlare.

Esempio 1

Fig. 2: GJF alza l’indice (turno 2)

Fig. 3: HFF distoglie lo sguardo e gesto della mano (turno 10)

Sovrapponendosi all’inizio del turno 1 del conduttore, nel turno 2 GJF afferma ‘he’s really good’, riferendosi con ogni evidenza all’interprete (la cui traduzione in italiano era appena terminata). Si verifica così un caso di affollamento di turno che vede intervistatore e intervistato competere per il turno. Mentre pronuncia queste parole, Franzen alza l’indice destro come per chiedere ancora la parola, oppure, per indicare il punto da cui proviene la traduzione in italiano e, dunque, l’interprete, mentre il corpo e lo sguardo di Fazio sono rivolti verso l’ospite (Figura 2). Alla traduzione di IPN (turno 3), che conferma l’appropriazione del turno da parte di Franzen, segue un silenzio di 1,6 secondi nel quale il conduttore ride prima di reclamare il proprio turno di parola con un ‘allora’ (4) - presumibilmente per introdurre un’altra domanda, ma ancora una volta senza riuscirci. Infatti, nel turno 5, anche GJF mostra di voler prendere la parola, e la traduzione dell’interprete gli consentirà nuovamente non solo di appropriarsene a discapito del conduttore, ma anche di mantenere come topic della conversazione quello introdotto da lui stesso, ovvero l’interprete. Seguono un’altra risata del conduttore, l’applauso del pubblico e un silenzio di 0,6 secondi, che configura un nuovo punto di rilevanza transizionale. Il conduttore tenta una terza volta di riappropriarsi del proprio ruolo di intervistatore e di prendere la parola per dettare i temi di conversazione (7), ma è nuovamente Franzen (8) ad avere la meglio, tradotto puntualmente da Noseda (9). Questi tre casi di ‘attempted controlling action’ (Straniero Sergio 2012: 72) falliti da parte del conduttore mostrano come, anche in simultanea, l’interprete contribuisca a coordinare l’interazione gestendo l’alternanza dei turni dei parlanti primari e come la sua attività di coordinamento entri qui in competizione con quella del conduttore. Traducendo infatti i tentativi di appropriazione del turno da parte di GJF, IPN svolge la sua funzione primaria, ma contribuisce al contempo a far prevalere GJF sul conduttore, privando quest’ultimo di due sue prerogative: quella di gestire l’allocazione dei turni all’interno dell’interazione e quella di avere il controllo sul suo sviluppo tematico. Con il suo primo intervento, Franzen non prende infatti la parola per completare quanto aveva detto nel proprio turno precedente, ma per introdurre un topic del tutto nuovo, ovvero la bravura dell’interprete.

In corrispondenza del turno 10, Fazio distoglie lo sguardo dal suo ospite, guarda dritto nella telecamera (Figura 3) e accompagna la sua raccomandazione all’interprete di non prendersi libertà con un gesto di vago distanziamento della mano destra, presumibilmente conscio del fatto che l’interprete vede quello che succede in studio dal monitor che ha in cabina. Il suo indirizzare lo sguardo alla telecamera è quindi un modo per rivolgersi direttamente all’interprete. L’impiego dello sguardo, unito all’uso del nome dell’interprete e della seconda persona singolare per rivolgersi a lui sono i mezzi di cui il conduttore si serve per selezionare l’interprete come suo interlocutore diretto, posizionandolo come ‘ratified participant’ (Goffman 1981: 131) ed equiparandolo temporaneamente ai partecipanti primari dell’intervista. Tale posizionamento dell’interprete da parte del conduttore produce un cambiamento sia del suo ‘production format’ (Goffman 1981: 145) che della sua ‘speaker-position’ (Diriker 2021: 484) abituale. Questo cambiamento si manifesta nel turno 11 di IPN, in cui, accettato il posizionamento del conduttore, l’interprete produce un turno che non è traduttivo, ma nel quale egli parla per sé (‘principal’) e non più a nome di GJF (‘animator’) (Goffman 1981: 144), utilizzando la prima persona singolare ‘no no io sto qua’. L’accettazione del posizionamento del conduttore da parte dell’interprete non determina, però, solo un cambiamento dell’identità partecipativa di IPN, bensì anche di GJF, che nei turni 10-11 viene escluso temporaneamente dall’interazione e posizionato come ‘bystander’ (Goffman 1981: 132) dalle mosse conversazionali di conduttore e interprete.

Nel turno 10 (‘Paolo non prenderti libertà’), HFF ‘sanziona’ bonariamente (Straniero Sergio 2007: 118) Noseda, segnalandogli che il suo tradurre i commenti dell’ospite sul servizio di interpretazione è ‘un’insubordinazione’ (Orletti 2000: 26) alle regole tacite dell’interazione: in qualità di ‘regista dell’interazione’ dovrebbe essere il conduttore a scegliere gli argomenti di conversazione, mentre l’ospite risponde e l’interprete si limita a tradurre ciò che è funzionale agli scopi dell’interazione. In risposta a tale ammonimento, nel turno 11 Noseda, anche lui con una punta di ironia, motiva il suo agire (‘no no io sto qua’), segnalando che sta semplicemente svolgendo il proprio lavoro. Lo fa in prima persona, ma solo dopo essere stato direttamente interpellato da Fazio, e puntualizzando che, trovandosi in una cabina dislocata dal luogo in cui l’interazione tra i partecipanti primari avviene (‘sto qua’), egli non può intervenire direttamente nell’interazione – cosa che però, di fatto, sta facendo.

3.2 ‘Se ha muerto’

L’esempio 2 è tratto da una puntata andata in onda il 27 aprile 2014, e l’intervista da cui è estratto dura circa 30 minuti^[7]. Questo esempio vede coinvolti Fazio (HFF), Noseda (IPN) e l’attore Antonio Banderas (GAB) e si colloca a circa 10 minuti dall’inizio dell’intervista. L’esempio si apre con HFF che chiede a GAB se gli esordi della carriera siano stati difficili anche per lui.

Esempio 2

Fig. 4: HFF ha il corpo e lo sguardo orientati verso GAB (turno 8)

Fig. 5: HFF gesto della mano (turno 8)

Fig. 6: HFF distoglie lo sguardo (turno 10)

Fig. 7: HFF alza l’indice (turno 11)

Fig. 8: HFF distoglie lo sguardo da GAB (turno 11)

Nei turni 2 e 6^[8] GAB risponde alla domanda di HFF raccontando l’inizio della propria carriera. Nei turni 3 e 5 IPN traduce il racconto di GAB e inizia a farlo anche nel turno 7, prima di essere bruscamente interrotto dal ‘clic’ di un microfono che viene spento. Segue un silenzio di 0,9 secondi. In questo momento dell’intervista la posizione del corpo di intervistatore e intervistato è quella riportata nella Figura 4, in cui Fazio guarda Banderas, come se volesse portare avanti la conversazione con il suo interlocutore diretto. Cosa che di fatto fa, ma spostando l’argomento di conversazione dalla carriera di Banderas al problema di interruzione dell’audio della traduzione, che Fazio inizia a ‘spettacolarizzare’ (Straniero Sergio 2007: 135-144). La sua battuta ‘è è caduto il traduttore’ (turno 8) è accompagnata da un gesto della mano che scende dall’alto verso il basso (Figura 5). Prosegue con ‘è se è svenuto però al di là del’, riprendendo le ultime parole dell’interprete prima dell’interruzione (9). Poi porta avanti il turno con ‘e (xxx) è caduto e è caduto (lui)’, parlando dell’interprete in terza persona e accompagnando la battuta con un gesto della mano analogo a quello fatto prima. HFF fornisce così una sua spiegazione della traduzione rimasta incompleta, ma allo stesso tempo rende IPN il ricevente non ratificato della sua preoccupazione celata da una presa in giro (‘teasing’, Straniero Sergio 1999: 314) e gli attribuisce l’identità partecipativa di ‘bystander’ (Goffman 1981: 132). L’interprete diventa quindi l’oggetto della conversazione in corso tra intervistatore e intervistato, ma non prende ancora parte all’interazione come ‘ratified participant’ (Goffman 1981: 131). Infatti, mentre pronuncia queste parole, il conduttore ha corpo e sguardo rivolti verso Banderas, che è ancora il suo interlocutore diretto.

Nel turno 10, HFF cambia invece atteggiamento e si rivolge direttamente all’interprete chiamandolo per nome. Mentre domanda ‘no va bè se Paolo?’, Fazio distoglie lo sguardo dal suo ospite e sembra guardare in direzione della telecamera, le cui immagini vengono plausibilmente proiettate sul monitor da cui Noseda vede il conduttore, fino ad assumere la posizione raffigurata nella Figura 6. Sembra insomma che il conduttore si rivolga direttamente all’interprete per accertarsi che non ci siano problemi tecnici prima di proseguire con l’intervista. Il suo contributo verbale e non verbale contribuisce a rendere l’interprete il suo interlocutore diretto (‘ratified participant’).

Non ricevendo ancora una risposta da Noseda, il conduttore produce un turno lungo e molto complesso (11): prima si scusa con l’ospite (‘no scusa eh’), riportando lo sguardo su GAB e collocandolo così ex novo come suo interlocutore diretto; poi giustifica il suo interloquire direttamente con l’interprete (‘perché mi son preoccupato’) mentre alza l’indice, presumibilmente per indicare il punto in cui si trova la cabina da cui proviene la traduzione in italiano (Figura 7); infine si rivolge nuovamente all’interprete con ‘non vorrei Paolo?’, distogliendo ancora una volta lo sguardo dall’ospite per puntarlo verso la telecamera (Figura 8) e posizionando così di nuovo l’interprete come ‘ratified participant’.

Dopo un silenzio di 1,6 secondi, nel turno 12 si sente una voce femminile che chiede ‘Paolo, ci sei?’. Non sappiamo se si tratti dell’interprete che traduce dall’italiano a beneficio dell’ospite o di qualcuno dalla regia. Finalmente arriva la voce di Noseda (13) che, ripristinato il canale audio, in risposta al turno della collega e alla sollecitazione di Fazio, conferma di esserci. Lo fa in prima persona (‘sì ci sono ci sono’), accettando così il posizionamento attribuitogli dal conduttore.

Il conduttore prende la parola in parziale sovrapposizione con il ‘ci sono’ dell’interprete (13-14), mentre GAB, restato fino a quel momento escluso dalla conversazione, tenta di ri-posizionarsi come interlocutore primario del conduttore facendo da spalla a Fazio con la domanda ‘se ha muerto?’ (15), alla quale, però, non riceve subito risposta. Non è dato sapere se l’ospite risponde in questo modo perché capisce l’italiano e ha inteso il ‘è svenuto’ di Fazio (9), oppure perché il collegamento con la traduzione in cuffia all’ospite non si è interrotto e l’interprete gli ha tradotto la battuta di Fazio o lo ha comunque informato di quanto stava accadendo.

Il conduttore, che nel turno 11 aveva selezionato l’interprete come suo interlocutore diretto, aspetta dapprima la risposta di quest’ultimo ‘no no’ (17) e solo in seguito riporta lo sguardo a Banderas e lo ricolloca come suo interlocutore primario con la risposta ‘no no non è morto è qu- quasi morto ma non è mor-’ (18). Quest’ultimo turno del conduttore suscita l’ilarità del pubblico in studio e viene interrotto da un fragoroso applauso.

L’interprete diventa, dunque, uno degli attori di un teatrino montato dai partecipanti primari, e in modo particolare dal conduttore, su un problema audio. Il ‘siparietto’ (Straniero Sergio 2007: 146) appena presentato permette però di concludere anche che, limitatamente alle occorrenze da noi raccolte di riferimenti all’interprete o al servizio di interpretazione, l’interprete non decide in autonomia quando e come intervenire nell’interazione, e tanto meno interviene in prima persona a titolo personale. Lo fa solo per rispondere a precise sollecitazioni dei partecipanti primari che lo usano come risorsa discorsiva o lo interpellano in prima persona e ne determinano così il grado di partecipazione all’interazione e, conseguentemente, la maggiore o minore visibilità.

3.3 ‘I sandaletti’

L’esempio 3 è tratto da una puntata andata in onda il 22 novembre 2015 e l’intervista da cui è estratto, della durata di 13 minuti circa^[9], vede la partecipazione di Fazio (HFF), Noseda (IPN), il regista e sceneggiatore cinematografico belga Jaco Van Dormael (GJVD) e il regista e attore belga Benoît Poelvoorde (GBP). I due ospiti sono stati invitati da Fazio a parlare del film Dio esiste e vive a Bruxelles (Le Tout Nouveau Testament)^[10] di Van Dormael, in cui Poelvoorde interpreta un Dio non convenzionale, alquanto egoista e bisbetico, che governa il mondo da un pc, applicando all’umanità delle leggi che si diverte egli stesso a inventare a mano a mano. L’episodio che discuteremo si verifica poco prima della metà dell’intervista e si apre con i turni 1 e 3 di Poelvoorde, nei quali l’attore dichiara che si sarebbe annoiato a interpretare un Dio convenzionale e noioso. I due turni di parola dell’ospite, che in questo caso sono perfettamente udibili anche dal pubblico, vengono tradotti uno per uno da Noseda (2 e 4). Nel turno 5, Van Dormael suggerisce a voce bassa a Poelvoorde il nome dell’attore Charlton Heston, che aveva interpretato Mosè nel film I dieci comandamenti^[11], come esempio di un personaggio biblico troppo buono e, pertanto, anche noioso, secondo il regista e l’attore. Nei turni successivi (6, 10 e 17), GBP spiega i motivi per i quali il Mosè di Heston può essere considerato un personaggio monotono in confronto al Dio interpretato da Poelvoorde, che beve, fuma e indossa una vestaglia. Dal turno 11 fino al 19, interprete e conduttore collaborano alla produzione della traduzione dei turni 10 e 17 dell’attore.

Esempio 3

Fig. 9: GBP si tocca il pollice (turno 10)

Fig. 10: GBP indica le sue scarpe (turno 10)

Fig. 11: GBP indica i vestiti che indossa (turno 10)

Fig. 12: GBP traccia con le mani un sorriso sul volto (turno 10)

Nel turno 10, mentre pronuncia per la seconda volta la parola ‘sandalettes’, Poelvoorde si tocca il pollice (Figura 9), come a enumerare il primo degli elementi che andrà a elencare. Subito dopo, nello stesso turno, produce il terzo ‘sandalettes’ muovendo il braccio destro e lo sguardo verso il basso (Figura 10), come per indicare le sue scarpe. Mentre dice ‘les lourdes robes’ indica i vestiti che indossa (Figura 11), e quando dice ‘il est toujours toujours content toujours content’ si disegna con le mani un sorriso sul volto (Figura 12). L’attore si serve quindi ampiamente di elementi non verbali per aiutare anche gestualmente la (inter)comprensione di quello che sta dicendo da parte del conduttore e del pubblico, o magari nel tentativo di farsi capire direttamente da Fazio senza passare per la traduzione (come vedremo in seguito, il conduttore ha infatti un’ottima comprensione del francese). Dal turno 11 al 19, conduttore e interprete si sovrappongono per ben quattro volte co-partecipando alla produzione dei turni traduttivi.

Nel primo caso, IPN traduce ‘les sandalettes’ di GBP (10), con ‘e poi i sandaletti’ (11) a cui il conduttore si sovrappone con ‘i sandali sì’ (12). Subito dopo aver sentito ‘les lourdes robes’ di Poelvoorde (10), Fazio afferma ‘sì certo i vestiti lu-’ (13) e Noseda in sovrapposizione traduce ‘poi le i grandi tuniche’ (14). I ‘sì’ e ‘sì certo’ di Fazio, in accompagnamento alle restituzioni delle parole dell’ospite, talvolta fornite ancora prima che l’interprete abbia prodotto la traduzione, segnalano direttamente all’ospite l’avvenuta comprensione delle sue parole ma lasciano anche intendere che egli non vuole entrare in competizione con l’atto traduttivo dell’interprete. La natura non competitiva dei turni traduttivi di Fazio si evince anche dal fatto che, nel turno 13, il conduttore interrompe il suo ‘i vestiti lu-’ non appena sente il traducente ‘tuniche’ scelto da Noseda (14), cedendo in questo modo all’interprete il turno traduttivo. Nel portare avanti il turno 14, Noseda sceglie invece il termine ‘sandaletti’, variando quello proposto dal conduttore nel turno 12 (‘sandali’). Ristabilisce così la propria autorità epistemica in materia di traduzione, anche se aggiunge l’hedge ‘insomma’, forse per rendere la sua traduzione meno categorica e rendere plausibile anche quella proposta da Fazio.

Nel turno 15, HFF incalza con ‘sempre contenti’, che questa volta IPN integra nella propria traduzione non ancora conclusa ‘sono co- sono sempre contenti’ (14 e 16), validando così la versione del conduttore e, al contempo, mitigandola di nuovo con ‘insomma così’. Sul finire del turno 18, quando sta traducendo la descrizione del Dio interpretato da Poelvoorde, Noseda, che a questo punto forse già si aspetta l’intervento traduttivo di Fazio, inizia a produrre una traduzione un po’ vaga ‘vestirmi così in relax’, servendosi del mitigatore ‘così’. Quasi contemporaneamente (19), Fazio formula prima ‘co- con la vestaglia’, e poi prosegue validando l’intervento di Noseda con un ‘sì’ e ne riprende il contributo con parole diverse ‘un po’ dégagé’.

Contrariamente ai due esempi precedenti, questo estratto illustra come il grado di partecipazione dell’interprete all’intervista di un talk show in una situazionalità dislocata non dipenda soltanto dalle mosse conversazionali dei partecipanti primari, ma anche da quelle che l’interprete sceglie di compiere. Nei casi di co-produzione del turno traduttivo da parte di conduttore e interprete, come nelle occorrenze mostrate nell’Esempio 3, le scelte dell’interprete di fornire traduzioni alternative alle proposte del conduttore o di integrare nella propria resa i termini usati da quest’ultimo per tradurre le parole dell’ospite, gli consentono di collocarsi all’interno dell’interazione come esperto linguistico che esercita la propria autorità epistemica. Le sue mosse conversazionali gli permettono, in altre parole, di esercitare la sua agency, ovvero il suo diritto di partecipazione conversazionale in qualità di ‘colui che traduce’ (Bazzanella 2009: 259) e, dunque, di partecipare ancora una volta attivamente all’interazione in corso, nonostante traduca in simultanea e non venga mai ripreso in video.

3.4 Il riscontro dell’analisi quantitativa

I tre esempi discussi sopra sono rappresentativi di dinamiche inerenti alla dominanza quantitativa e interazionale in interazioni istituzionali asimmetriche che si osservano nell’intero corpus e che abbiamo, almeno in parte, anche quantificato. L’utilizzo di ELAN (e in particolare della sua funzione per l’estrazione di dati numerici sul tempo di parola dei partecipanti a ogni interazione trascritta), ci ha infatti permesso di ‘misurare’ lo spazio interazionale dei partecipanti in termini di tempo di parola e numero di turni (Sannolla 2023). Com’era prevedibile, è l’ospite a godere di un maggiore spazio interazionale misurato in minuti, in linea con gli scopi comunicativi del genere mediale del talk show. Analogamente, il conteggio dei turni di parola per partecipante e dei turni contenenti una domanda (intesa come richiesta di informazioni o invito a compiere un’azione da parte di un parlante) evidenzia che, almeno nel nostro corpus, il potere di compiere mosse conversazionali ‘forti’ (Orletti 2000: 14-15) è senza dubbio esercitato dal conduttore.

Nelle interviste da cui sono stati tratti i tre estratti analizzati in questo articolo, l’ospite parla più a lungo di Fazio in un caso su tre (Intervista esempio 1) e quanto lui nei restanti due (Intervista esempio 2 e esempio 3) (Tabella 1). Il parlante che pone più domande, in tutte e tre le interviste è il conduttore, mentre due dei tre ospiti non ne formulano neppure una (Tabella 2).

Tab. 1: Dati sulla dominanza quantitativa dei parlanti nelle interviste da cui gli estratti sono tratti

Tab. 2: Dati sulla dominanza interazionale dei parlanti nelle interviste da cui gli estratti sono tratti

L’interprete è per lo più fedele al proprio compito di restituire gli interventi dell’ospite che è chiamato a tradurre. L’apparente eccezione dell’intervista esempio 1, in cui l’interprete parla per 11 minuti e ha dunque un tempo di parola maggiore di quello dell’ospite (10 min), è ascrivibile a un suo scambio con il conduttore in cui l’interprete produce un turno (11) autonomo svincolato da quello del parlante primario (Tabella 1). Se l’interprete pone domande, sono parte di quelle formulate dall’ospite (Tabella 2)^[12].

4. Conclusioni

Questo contributo ha ripreso alcuni concetti elaborati da Straniero Sergio per l’analisi dei talk show, collocandoli negli sviluppi più recenti della ricerca in interpretazione (in generale e nei/per i media) e in linguistica applicata (con un focus particolare sull'AC e le sue svolte quantitative, multimodali ed epistemiche). Abbiamo presentato alcuni risultati di questi filoni di ricerca che quindici anni fa erano solo agli inizi, nonché dimostrato la validità della scelta di applicare uno stesso apparato teorico a varie tipologie di programmi televisivi (ad esempio infotainment vs. confrontainment), modalità di interpretazione adottata (ad esempio simultanea vs. consecutiva) e modalità di presenza dell’interprete (su schermo vs. in sola voce).

Le conclusioni tratte dagli esempi discussi, confortate anche dai dati quantitativi, confermano che, pur traducendo in simultanea da una cabina lontana dal luogo in cui si svolge l’intervista tra intervistatore e intervistato, e pur non essendo mai ripreso dalle telecamere, l’interprete simultaneista – almeno in questo talk show – partecipa a tutti gli effetti alle dinamiche conversazionali dell’interazione tra i parlanti primari. Ligio al suo compito primario, non prende mai spontaneamente l’iniziativa, ma non si sottrae al gioco della televisione-spettacolo, rispondendo alle sollecitazioni che gli vengono lanciate dagli interlocutori principali ed intervenendo se del caso anche in prima persona.

Questo risultato incoraggia ad analizzare in questa chiave e in maniera più approfondita l’intera raccolta delle registrazioni di questo talk show, ancora in programmazione, che coprono un arco temporale eccezionalmente esteso. L’utilizzo di strumenti di nuova generazione come ELAN permette di raccogliere e valorizzare ulteriormente l’eredità di Straniero Sergio, incrociando analisi qualitative e quantitative di corpora di crescenti dimensioni e granularità e favorendo il confronto e l’interdisciplinarietà degli studi in interpretazione televisiva.

About the author(s)

Antonella Sannolla is a PhD student in Translation, Interpreting and Intercultural Studies at the Department of Interpreting and Translation of the University of Bologna, where she conducts research on the three-way co-construction of simultaneous interpreters' participation in talk show interviews, through the non-verbal behaviour (gaze and gesture) of interviewers and interviewees. Her research interests include simultaneous dialogue interpreting of institutional asymmetrical interactions and corpus-based multimodal analysis of interpreter-mediated interactions.
She received a grant for post-graduate research at the Department of Interpreting and Translation of the University of Bologna on the topic “IntTV - Creation of an archive of audiovisual materials of TV Interpreting for multimodal analysis”.

Natacha Niemants is an associate professor in French language, translation and linguistics at the Department of Interpreting and Translation of the University of Bologna, where she teaches Theory and practice of dialogue interpreting, Italian>French conference interpreting and language and culture of French-speaking countries. Her research interests include interpreting in healthcare and asylum-seeking contexts, interpreter training, transcription and analysis of speech and multimodality, and she had the opportunity to explore them in EU-funded projects (e.g. ReACTMe, Smarterp) and research groups (e.g. Centro AIM, Laboratoire ICAR). She has published articles in international books and journals, is the author of L'interprétation de dialogue en milieu médical. Du jeu de rôle à l'exercice d'une responsabilité (2015), and in collaboration with Letizia Cirillo she has edited Teaching Dialogue Interpreting. Research-based proposals for higher education (2017). She guest-edited two issues of The Interpreters’ Newsletter (2015, 2021) and is currently a member of the journal Editorial Board.

Gabriele Mack is an associate professor in German language, translation, and linguistics at the Department of Interpreting and Translation of the University of Bologna where she teaches Theory and practice of interpreting and Interpreting between German and Italian. She has taken part as national coordinator and as participant in four different EU-funded research projects from 2012 to 2021 dealing with: pre-trial interpreting in criminal proceedings, interpreting for children in legal settings and interpreting for unaccompanied children in migration and refugee settings. Her research interests also include interpreter education and training, assessment of interpreting as a process and a product, the representation of interpreters in literature, media interpreting, dialogue interpreting in legal settings and interpreting for children and adolescents, and interpreter’s health and wellbeing.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

In less than two decades interpreting corpora have covered a wide range of interpreting settings and language pairs. Corpus-based studies have also been enriched by multimodal data, addressing both verbal and embodied dimensions of interpreter-mediated interactions. This paper contributes to expanding this corpus-based multimodal analytical approach by examining the dynamics of chunking, the practice of dividing extensive turns in consecutive interpreting. In a speech delivered to a foreign audience, chunking is essential in facilitating the rendition in the target language. Yet, it may potentially interrupt the guest speaker’s speech flow on stage. Underpinned by a small-scale corpus featuring Chinese–Italian consecutive interpreting delivered in public events, the analysis investigates how the interpreter and the guest speaker navigate this conflict and how the situational and cultural contexts impact their actions. The paper begins with an overview of the multimodal approach in interpreting studies, focusing on chunking and consecutive interpreting in public events. Subsequently, data collection and transcription methods are outlined. Drawing on the multimodal approach of Conversation Analysis, we explore how chunking is managed by participants who employ various semiotic resources. Our results reveal an overall collaborative framework characterized by mutual monitoring and signalling between the speaker and the interpreter, with diversified approaches adopted by the participants. The reasons behind their choices are also discussed in relation to the contextual features of the communicative event.

Keywords: consecutive interpreting, chunking, interpreting for public events, corpus-based interpreting studies, multimodal analysis

1. Introduction^[1]

Anecdotal evidence of the interpreter’s performance has long been replaced by a different approach, namely the corpus-based approach advocated by Shlesinger in her 1998 seminal paper. Drawing from the Corpus Linguistics (CL) methodology already embraced in Translation Studies (Baker 1993), she envisaged the potential of the ‘creation of parallel and comparable corpora comprising discourse which is relevant to interpreting and of the use of existing monolingual corpora as sources of materials for testing hypotheses about interpreting’ (Shlesinger 1998: 486) to advance Interpreting Studies. The availability of large interpreting datasets could enable the identification of general trends, thus contributing to overcome narrow approaches in interpreting research fields, such as research on quality in interpretation carried out back then and stigmatised by Francesco Straniero Sergio (2003: 135) as follows:

Research on quality in simultaneous interpretation seems polarised, if not paralysed, in the following two directions:

1) Speculative studies that indicate how a text ‘can’, ‘should’ or ‘should have been translated’

2) Experimental or case-study studies analysing individual performances in the light of pre-established quality criteria.                                         

The access to millions of written, published texts has certainly favoured the earlier development of corpus-based translation studies (CTS) vs corpus-based interpreting studies (CIS), given the lack of accessible large sets of source and target speeches and the extremely time-consuming transcription of oral data. It was not until mid-2000 that the first interpreting corpora based on CL methodology and tools – for example, Part-of-Speech tagged, lemmatised, tokenised, and indexed corpora for semi/fully-automatised queries – appeared (Bendazzoli 2018; Setton 2011). This can be considered the final innovative step of the evolution of interpreting data collections stored in digital format ranging from one single/some interpreter-mediated events to Straniero Sergio’s CorIT Corpus including the largest ever compilation of 1200 interpreters’ performances on Italian television (Straniero Sergio 2007; Straniero Sergio and Falbo 2012).

The number of machine-readable interpreting corpora have increased by the dozens in the subsequent years and several of them are presented in co-edited publications, such as Straniero Sergio and Falbo (2012), Bendazzoli, Russo and Defrancq (2018), Russo, Bendazzoli and Defrancq (2018), Kajzer-Wietrzny et al. (2022). Their authors have investigated a wide range of research topics such as disfluencies (Bendazzoli et al. 2011), cognitive load (Defrancq and Plevoets 2018), ‘interpretese’ (Aston 2018; Kajzer-Wietrzny 2018,), fluency parameters (Chmiel et al. 2022) and so on. More recently, a review of interpreting corpora revealed the existence of 125 parallel corpora in 38 and 8 signed languages (Liu and Russo 2025).

Interpreter-mediated events collected in interpreting corpora cover many different settings and interpreting modes. The vast majority of them investigate conference interpreting (consecutive and simultaneous) based on data coming from different sources, in particular the European Parliament sessions, a formidable multi-lingual resource providing both source and target speeches, as well as from other political assemblies, such as the Chinese/English Political Interpreting Corpus (CEPIC) counting millions of words (Pan 2019) or  political press conferences, especially from China (among others, Wang and Zou 2018). All these venues provide publicly accessible interpreting data to an unprecedented extent. Not only are conference interpreting corpora increasing in number, thus providing material for a growing number of publications, but dialogue interpreting corpora too are steadily developing, thus expanding CIS (among others, Mason 1999, 2001; Angelelli 2004; Pöchhacker and Shlesinger 2007; Gavioli 2012; Angermeyer, Meyer and Schmidt 2012). These shed light on different aspects of the interpreter’s role and agency, such as interaction with the other participants, participation status, meaning co-construction, role-conflict or gate-keeping (see further on). The analysis of dialogic settings has been further enriched by multimodal corpora investigating embodied interactions which complement verbal exchanges. Elements of multimodal analysis include the impact of gaze, gestures, facial expressions, body posture and object manipulation, which have become fully-fledged ‘tokens’ of manually or machine-readable dialogue interpreting corpora (for example Pasquandrea 2011; Davitti 2013; Dong 2022). Furthermore, to better account for such embodied interactions, new theoretical and methodological frameworks have been proposed to analyse how verbal and nonverbal resources influence shifts between source and target texts in machine-readable corpora (Gao and Wang 2017).

This paper contributes to expanding this corpus-based multimodal analytical approach by providing evidence of some relevant features of chunking, that is, the practice of dividing extended turns into manageable units, in consecutive interpreting for public events (CIPEs). These emerge from a small-scale corpus featuring non-Eurocentric embodied interactional data in a ritualised setting, where two markedly different cultures, discursive practices and mindsets come together, namely the Chinese and Italian ones.

The paper begins with a brief overview of the interactional and multimodal approach to study an interpreter performance (Section 2), with a special focus on consecutive interpreting in public events (Section 3); it then presents the data and methodology in Section 4, the analysis in Section 5, the discussion of results in Section 6 and some conclusions in Section 7.

2. Multimodality and chunking

In the history of Interpreting Studies, investigations on interpreting activity have undergone several paradigm shifts (Pöchhacker 2004). Of particular interest in this respect is the rise of the interactionist and discourse-analytical approach, which started to gain popularity some twenty years ago (Mason 1999; Roy 2000; Straniero Sergio 1999; Wadensjö 1998). Informed by Sociolinguistics, Discourse Analysis and Conversation Analysis, which emphasise the situated and co-constructed nature of communication “(Goodwin and Duranti 1992; Sacks, Schegloff and Jefferson 1974), more and more studies have addressed the interpreter’s role and participation in ever-changing communicative situations “(Baraldi and Gavioli 2012; Diriker 2004; Mason 1999, 2001).

The context-sensitive and jointly-achieved features of interpreting activities have been further highlighted in the multimodal analysis of video data “(Davitti 2013, 2018; Salaets and Brône 2020), a more recent direction of study drawing on the multimodal approach of Conversation Analysis (Deppermann 2013; Goodwin 2000; Mondada 2016). The interplay of verbal and nonverbal semiotic cues, or the ‘triple audiovisual reality made up of verbal language, paralanguage and kinesics’ as Poyatos (1996: 249) puts it, pervades interpreting activity. Gaze, for instance, plays a fundamental role in monitoring the ongoing interaction (Tiselius and Dimitrova 2023). Shifts in gaze and body direction are proven to be effective turn-regulatory cues in face-to-face dialogue interpreting. At turn transition-relevant places, the primary parties and the interpreter may establish eye contact to hint to each other at the timing of turn-transition (Davitti 2013, 2018; Krystallidou 2014; Mason 2012; Pasquandrea 2011, 2012; Vranjes and Bot 2021; Vranjes and Oben 2022; Wadensjö 2001). Moreover, gaze and body orientation are also indicators of addressee selection and engagement (Krystallidou 2014, 2016; Mason 2012; Vranjes, Brône and Kurt 2018; Vranjes et al. 2019). Thus, when turning towards or looking at the interpreter, the primary parties recognise the latter as a ratified co-participant in the interaction (Davitti 2016; Pasquandrea 2011, 2012). The interpreter may directly look at primary participants to draw their attention and show reciprocity (Davitti 2013, 2016) or provide affiliative backchannels, such as minimal responses (Gavioli 2012) and nods (Vranjes, Brône and Kurt 2018; Vranjes et al. 2019). However, Wadensjö (2001) also noticed that the seat arrangement affects the participant’s gaze behaviour, underlining the necessity of analysing the specific configuration of the communicative event.

A peculiar practice often managed through gaze and bodily conduct is the chunking of extended talks. It involves two actions (Licoppe 2023: 159): the first consists of the splitting of the source talk into smaller units to provide a chance for the interpreter to deliver the rendition; the second occurs when the interpreter concludes their turn, as a speaker is expected to gain the floor. The interpreter has been found to take the initiative in this process (Licoppe and Veyrier 2020; Vranjes, Brône and Kurt 2018). However, their attempt may also fail because of conflicting communicative needs of the primary parties (Vranjes and Bot 2021). Therefore, as a complex activity, it has to be ‘tacitly negotiated on a moment-by-moment basis through verbal, prosodic and embodied resources’ (Davitti 2018: 14).

Chunking is not confined solely to the dialogical form. Licoppe (2023: 159) indeed refers to it as ‘characteristic of consecutive interpreting’. In public events, the stage is generally reserved for one guest speaker at a time. However, this does not imply that floor management is unnecessary in CIPEs; on the contrary, the speech may be viewed as an exceptionally extensive and multi-unit turn that must be ‘chunked’ to allow for its rendition.

3. Interaction in public events: what corpus-based multimodal analysis can reveal

Parallel to the interactionist research on dialogue interpreting, a relatively small body of literature has adopted a similar approach to address consecutive interpreting delivered in public events, a one-to-many form of communication.

Based on data collected in an academic conference interpreted in simultaneous mode, Diriker (2004: 82) argued that interpreting is an ‘activity in context’: even when the interpreter was confined to the booth, their renditions and behaviours were still linked to the real-time dynamics in the conference hall and to the broader social context. Napier (2007) provided evidence of cooperative actions carried out by a deaf guest speaker, an active interpreter and a support interpreter to deliver a speech to an English-speaking audience. The author highlighted how the participants mobilised nonverbal cues to coordinate the talking pace and check on comprehension.

Turning specifically to the consecutive mode in CIPEs, Errico and Ballestrazzi (2014: 378) reported the challenges that the interpreter faced when the speaker displayed ‘a markedly dominant interactional status’ and a playful expressive approach. In the highly dynamic unfolding of the public speech, the interpreter had to continuously alternate between the translating activity and the co-acting task (Straniero Sergio 2012) to comply with the ‘ethics of entertainment’ (Katan and Straniero Sergio 2003). In another case of a public literary event presented by Poignant and Wadensjö (2020), the interpreter did not simply translate the content to the audience but reframed it in a more engaging contour through rhythmically marked prosody and gesture. The boundary between the original and the rendered utterance was blurred: the speaker’s and the interpreter’s contributions co-formed a unique onstage performance. These studies shed light on the situated dimension of mediated communication and the interpreter’s complex role in CIPEs. The relevance of nonverbal resources such as gaze and prosody shift in the speaker-interpreter interaction was also stressed. However, despite its rich and in-depth analyses, research in this direction has been mainly focused on single case studies and language pairs within the European cultural background.

In a recent investigation, Li, Liu and Cheung (2023) explored the multimodal interactions between speakers and Chinese-English interpreters in institutional press conferences. The analysis provided further evidence of the collaborative actions jointly undertaken by the speaker and the interpreter through verbal and nonverbal cues. In particular, the interpreter acted as an ‘icebreaker’ or ‘rectifier’ (ivi: 10) by reacting to the speaker’s involvement or rephrasing the rendition according to the speaker’s prompting. Yet, it is worth noting that the study involved a peculiar group of speakers who were also fluent in the target language. By adopting a corpus-based approach, this study demonstrated the interpreter’s contribution to the co-construction of meaning in this type of setting.

In the present contribution we set out to investigate a different yet representative situation in which the speaker and the audience do not share a common language. Here, the interpreter enjoys a bilingual advantage, and therefore, they could potentially take on coordinating responsibilities such as chunking. However, in the light of the fact that in public events, the guest speaker enjoys a privileged position, or better, the ‘speakership’, chunking could be seen as an interruption of their speech flow. This raises some key questions: How do speakers and interpreters manage this conflict? Who takes the initiative? Are there any factors that could impact their actions?

To our knowledge, there are still limited datasets in the literature on this issue. Therefore, underpinned by a multimodal frame and a small-scale corpus of CIPEs data, the present paper attempts to provide a preliminary account of the chunking dynamics and to reflect on the implications of the situational and cultural contexts, as advocated by Gao and Wang (2017).

4. Materials and methods

Even though there are mixed conceptualisations of representativeness in corpus design (cf. Egbert et al. 2022), corpora as large as possible are generally considered representative as they enable reliable estimates of frequency and distribution of an investigated feature in a given larger population, which is what an anecdotal case-study approach cannot possibly deliver. Egbert et al. (2022: 11) provide an operational definition of representativeness: ‘[it] refers to the extent to which a corpus permits accurate generalizations about the quantitative linguistic patterns that are typical in a target language or discourse domain’. As a continuous construct, representativeness is high when corpus designers tackle (1) domain considerations – (1a) define the (operational) domain boundaries (for instance ‘ZH-EN dialogue interpreting in the Chinese context’ vs ‘dialogue interpreting’) and major categories (such as facework strategies in interpreter-mediated cross-examinations), (1b) use a sampling method (for example random, convenient or purposive) to select from a list of mediated situations in the sampling frame –, and (2) distribution considerations, namely identify the corpus size required for the precise measurement of a feature’s frequency (Egbert et al. 2022). Given the well-known difficulties of finding, accessing and analysing real dialogue interpreting data (Bendazzoli 2017), the literature on corpus-based interpreting studies also features small-scale corpora – among which Liu and Hale (2017), analysing five bilingual moot court cross-examinations, or Määtta (2017), analysing one telephone interview of one hour 46 minutes –, which have the merit of being in-depth, theoretically and methodological sound studies providing insights, evidence-based trends and viable constructs for further investigations.

In our case, the research data was extracted from a larger corpus of CIPEs between Italian and Chinese, in which subjects’ verbal and nonverbal resources were transcribed in ELAN to be queried using CL tools (Wang 2022). We delimited the domain boundaries (1a) as follows: ZH-IT consecutive interpreting in public events posted on YouTube and Weibo. Next, we applied the following sampling method (1b): to highlight the nonverbal communication between the speaker and interpreter, we excluded events in which the speaker was holding a script and was reading from it, as the interactional gaze movements and gestures could not be compared to naturally occurring interactions. The speaker and the interpreter had to be positioned side-by-side or at a close distance so that one could have visual access to the nonverbal features of the other. A fair number of formal events with politically relevant speakers failed to correspond to these criteria. Moreover, events with more guest speakers were also excluded, since the co-presence of multiple speakers onstage can significantly alter the chunking and turn-transition dynamics. As we had no pretentions to providing reliable generalizations of the features’ frequency given the limited dataset we managed to collect in this domain, we did not consider identifying the corpus size required (2).

Six events meeting the above-mentioned criteria were selected to build the final research corpus. The speeches were delivered and interpreted by different speakers and interpreters, with a total duration of 175 minutes. Occasionally, a moderator was present onstage during some events, but their interventions, generally minimal, were not included in the analysis or in the overall video duration count. The name and general information of each event are provided in Table 1.

For practical reasons, source speakers and interpreters are named in the following sections by the number assigned to the respective event. For instance, ‘Speaker-I’ and ‘Interpreter-I’ refer to the participants of Event-I, ‘Meeting with film director JZK’.

Table 1: List of events

Drawing on the multimodal approach of Conversation Analysis “(Deppermann 2013; Mondada 2018; Stivers and Sidnell 2005) , the data were transcribed using the software ELAN^[2] (Wittenburg et al. 2006) (for the transcription conventions, see Annex 1). Four tiers were created for the speaker (SP) and the interpreter (INT) respectively (Fig.1). The first tier included propositional content and the main paralinguistic features (for example pauses and stressed tone). The second tier contained the English translation. In the third one, sideway gazes were annotated; therefore, a blank space in this tier indicated that the participant was looking frontally towards the audience. The fourth tier included other body movements, such as head movements and gestures. In total, 975 instances of chunking were identified and coded in ELAN, among which 487 initiated by the speaker and 488 initiated by the interpreter (Table 2).

Fig. 1. Example of the multi-tier transcription

Table 2: Chunking count

5. Analysis

In line with the communicative norms in public events, our video data confirmed the leading role held by the guest speaker in chunking. Namely, the speaker stopped when deemed appropriate and left the floor to the interpreter. Yet, the micro-analysis of the floor-transition moments disclosed a collaborative framework, in which both the speaker and the interpreter were inclined to monitor each other and signal the end of their turn to the other. Such hinted chunking actions were seen in over fifty per cent of the total transitions. Both verbal and nonverbal resources, such as the Chinese discourse marker ng, eye contact, gestures, body movements and object manipulation, were exploited in this collaborative framework.

In the following analysis, we selected the most representative and relevant examples of each distinct practice, seeking at the same time to provide at least one example from each event.

5.1 Speaker-to-interpreter transition

The speaker tapped several resources to signal the end of the ongoing speech chunk to the interpreter. At times, speakers slightly turned their heads towards the interpreter, but without eye contact. On other occasions, they directed their gaze to the interpreters until eye contact was established or feedback was provided.

Excerpt 1 exemplifies the second case in which Speaker-III turns to the interpreter when she is about to leave the floor. She kept her eyes on the interpreter until the latter nodded back and began her rendition (Fig. 2).

Excerpt 1 – Sideways gaze and head movement as the speaker’s cue

Figure 2. Sideways gaze and head movement as the speaker’s cue

Signalling practices were not restricted to the kinetic domain, but speakers were also found to pass the floor with vocalised signals. Both in Event-III and IV, speakers often closed their turns by uttering ng (yeah), a Chinese discourse marker which adds a conclusive tone to the utterance. This was particularly relevant in Event-IV, as the guest speaker’s body movements were restrained: gaze and head turned towards the interpreter were observed only three times out of all the 94 turn-transitions from the speaker to the interpreter, whereas the vocalised token, the ending ng, occurred 48 times.

Excerpt 2 represents an example of Speaker-IV, who concluded his talk with a final ng and then moved away from the microphone (Fig. 3). At almost the same moment, the interpreter stopped taking notes: she nodded and then took the floor.

Excerpt 2. Discourse marker as the speaker’s cue

Figure 3. Discourse marker as the speaker’s cue

On numerous occasions, speakers did not turn towards or gaze at the interpreters at the end of their chunks of speech. However, some behaviours repeatedly performed before leaving the floor, such as moving away from the microphone or gesture retraction to return to a ‘standby’ posture, may also have served an indirect signalling function.

In Event-V, the speaker has to manage a multimedia presentation from a laptop on his left. As illustrated in Excerpt 3, as a sign of chunking, he looked away from the audience to focus visually on and manipulate the laptop (Fig. 4). Though such cues were not addressed to the interpreter, they seemed somehow ‘choreographed’ with the interpreter’s actions, as the latter took the floor without hesitation.

Excerpt 3. Object manipulation as the speaker’s cue

Figure 4. Object manipulation as the speaker’s cue

Speaker-VI showed another peculiar signalling mechanism. When concluding his chunks of talk, he was often seen to hold the last gesture or posture performed instead of returning to a relaxed position, as if he literally put the speech on pause. Excerpt 4 illustrates that, in introducing Leonardo da Vinci’s code to the audience, Speaker-VI held a notebook in his hand to show the approximate aspect. Right before he left the floor, he first stressed the holding gesture by slightly shaking the notebook and then continued to keep his hand aloft (Fig. 5). What is also worthy of notice is the backchannel of the interpreter: almost at the same time, she uttered an affirmative ng (well, yeah) as a token of her readiness to take the floor.

This co-managed practice was also spotted on several other occasions. At times, the interpreter’s reaction was so prompt that it became difficult to establish whether it was the speaker who left the floor first or the interpreter who took the initiative. Nevertheless, we still consider it an occurrence of indirect signalling activity by the guest speaker, as the ‘on-pause’ practice occurred naturally and routinely throughout the event.  

Excerpt 4. ‘On pause’ chunking

Figure 5. ‘On pause’ chunking

When looking at Table 3, it becomes evident that in all six events, more than half of the instances of chunking were either directly or indirectly hinted. Speaker-I, II and III relied primarily on shifts in gaze and head orientation. In contrast, the primary chunking cues observed in Event-IV, V and VI were less apparent and did not seem to be explicitly addressed to the interpreter. Yet, these actions still disclose the speaker’s awareness of sharing the stage with a co-performer, that is the interpreter – and the intention to leave the floor to them. Despite being indirect and subtle, these cues were effective, largely due to the interpreter’s close and consistent monitoring. The physical proximity between them also facilitated the reception and perception of nonverbal features.    

Table 3: Speaker-to-interpreter transitions

5.2 Interpreter-to-speaker transition

A common practice adopted by interpreters was orienting their heads towards the guest speaker at the end of their rendition. Excerpt 5 from Event-I provides a case in point: when concluding the rendition, the interpreter directed his head and gaze towards the speaker, who immediately took the floor.

Excerpt 5. Sideways gaze and head move as the interpreter’s cue

Figure 6. Sideways gaze and head move as the interpreter’s cue

Another aspect worth noting in this example is that, during the rendition, Speaker-I kept his head oriented towards the talking interpreter and closely looked at him. Eye contact was also briefly established when the interpreter turned towards the speaker at the end of his rendition (Fig. 6).

What we witness here is an instance of the speaker’s monitoring. As the speaker was unfamiliar with the target language, he needed more than linguistic elements to perceive the end of the rendition. Therefore, it was to be expected that the speaker would look for visual clues from the interpreter. However, publicly performed monitoring behaviour by the speaker, as shown in Excerpt 5, was observed only 18 times and limited to three of the six events. Conversely, it was much more common to observe the speaker’s prompt reaction to chunking cues without directing their sightline to the interpreter.

This is illustrated in Excerpt 6. In this event, the Event-II, speaker and interpreter were standing next to each other. Thanks to this close interpersonal distance, when the interpreter turned towards the guest speaker at the end of his rendition (Fig. 7), the latter took the floor without hesitation even though she was looking at the audience.

Excerpt 6. The interpreter’s cue and the speaker’s floor-taking reaction

Figure 7. The interpreter’s cue and the speaker’s floor-taking reaction

Such discreet monitoring is not easy to discern and prove. Nevertheless, in Excerpt 7, it is possible to flag the speaker’s attention on the interpreter due to a late chunking cue from the latter. After closing her rendition, the interpreter remained gazing at the audience without retracting from the last gesture performed (Fig. 8). It became challenging, at this point, to distinguish whether this was a pause or a turn transition-relevant place, especially for the speaker who did not speak the target language. The speaker, therefore, hesitated to gain the floor: he briefly opened his mouth but then closed it immediately. Only after 1.2 seconds, when the interpreter turned towards him, did he finally take the floor. In this case, despite the speaker’s diverted gaze, his turn-taking actions still seemed to be influenced by the interpreter sitting beside him.

Excerpt 7. The interpreter’s late chunking cue

Figure 8. The interpreter’s late chunking cue

Akin to the indirect signalling practice observed in speaker-to-interpreter transitions, the end of the rendition may also be pinpointed by other non-interactional cues, such as changing one’s posture, which turned out to be equally effective in prompting the speaker’s reactions. Excerpt 8 shows an instance in which Interpreter-V assumed a notetaking posture at the end of her rendition (Fig. 9).

Excerpt 8. Interpreter’s indirect signalling

Figure 9. Interpreter’s indirect signalling

Overall, the interpreters’ chunking cues are less diversified. As evinced by Table 3, Interpreter-I, II and III are more inclined to sideways gaze and head movement, while the subtler signalling, that is the adoption of the note-taking posture, is commonly found in Event-IV, V and VI. These actions provide helpful clues to the speaker to identify the conclusion of a chunk of talk in an unknown language and, thus, are key to keeping a smooth communication flow.

Table 4: Interpreter-to-speaker transitions

6. Discussion

Thanks to the multimodal approach and a CIPEs corpus between Italian and Chinese, the present study has revealed some of the main features of chunking, a collaborative activity that speaker and interpreter carry out.

To different degrees, all the speakers analysed have employed sideways gaze and head orientation in chunking, demonstrating their recognition of the interpreter as a validated participant. This practice, already observed in dialogue interpreting (Davitti 2016; Mason 2012; Pasquandrea 2011, 2012), becomes reminiscent of a theatrical performance (Goffman 1981) when it occurs on a stage: when the speaker shifts their sightline and body towards the interpreter, the audience is likely to follow suit, directing their attention to the interpreter. Therefore, the speaker’s gaze shifting serves as a spotlight, casting the interpreter as a co-performer. What appears to be characteristic of CIPEs are indirect chunk-ending cues, such as computer manipulation in Event-V. While not explicitly directed at the interpreter, it still delimits the boundary of the ongoing chunk of speech and facilitates floor-taking by the interpreter. Therefore, we regard it as having collaborative significance in any case. Its subtle form also aligns with the behavioural pattern in this setting.

The interpreter has also contributed to the collaborative outcome. Their close and consistent monitoring of the speaker is pervasive throughout the corpus. Such monitoring not only enables them to grasp visually transmitted information in the speech but also maximizes the possibility of seizing the speaker’s indirect cues, which could otherwise be overlooked. The interpreter’s signalling practice is relevant, too. It assists the speaker in regaining the floor smoothly by providing helpful clues of the end of the rendition in an unknown language. Although the speaker’s monitoring is less apparent due to the context and the participants’ respective roles, their actions are closely and timely related to the interpreter’s cues.

Despite the general collaborative frame, the analysis also disclosed diversified approaches among participants. Given the limited size and small sample groups of our current corpus, we do not consider our findings to be representative of the larger population of this domain, yet evidence-based reflections on the possible reasons of the observed phenomena may contribute to a better understanding of the participants’ behaviours in CIPEs.

We noted that the Chinese guests, Speaker-I, II and III, are decisively keen to using publicly performed cues, while the chunking behaviour of the two Italian guests, that is Speaker-V and VI, is more subtle. This pattern differs significantly from those reported in previous studies, according to which members of a Chinese cultural group are likely to adopt a discreet conduct (Hlavac and Xu 2020: 50-52; Wang 2024) by avoiding eye contact (Vargas-Urpì 2013) and animated bodily conduct (Wang 2024: 183-186), while Italians tend to engage in an expansive way of speaking (Katan 2004: 298). Firstly, such a marked contrast may result from some situational factors. The Chinese speakers were invited to talk about their works and creations (a product, a book or a film), which may lead them to see the interpreters as their aids and allies and, therefore, enhance their connection with them.  The two events involving Italian speakers were organized by the Italian Embassy in China to promote Italian culture. The speakers were likely to align with the organizer by focusing on the audience and cooperating with the interpreters more discreetly. Secondly, a different setting and participant profile distinguish the present study from previous ones. Namely, in CIPEs the guest speaker is generally a distinguished figure with experience in public speaking. The practices and the strategies they adopt are arguably different from those observed in the community setting. Finally, personal inclination and prior working experience with the interpreter could also have contributed to shaping the participants’ not-so-typical behaviours.

As far as the interpreters are concerned, it could be noticed that Interpreter-V never directed her eyes to the speaker in all the 54 transitions (cf. Table 3). This ‘detached’ approach is also visible in the translation strategy adopted, namely, the use of the third person singular to report the speaker’s talk and the reference to the latter in her rendition as ‘master photographer’. Considering the age, gender and status differences between she and the speaker, the most pronounced of our whole speaker-interpreter dataset, the choices of Interpreter-V are possibly grounded in the Chinese cultural values of politeness and respect (Hlavac and Xu 2020: 46-52). Nevertheless, such culture-bound behaviour has not emerged in other interpreter’s chunking practices.

Regardless of the in-group variation, when comparing the interpreters’ data with the speakers’, as shown in Table 4, it is possible to recognize a substantial consistency^[3]: in events where the speaker favoured publicly performed cues over indirect ones, the interpreter engaged in direct practice more consistently as well, and vice versa. This finding suggests that the interpreter tends to align with the speaker’s chunking practice. On the one hand, it ensures a consistent performative effect within the ‘coupled turn’ (Poignant and Wadensjö 2020: 3). On the other, it could avoid drawing unwanted visibility on the interpreter in public. The interpreter’s role in public events may seem less prominent than in dialogical forms of interaction. However, their tactful collaboration with the speaker still reflects their professional agency as communication facilitators.

Table 5: Chunking practices: Speakers vs interpreters

7. Conclusions

The challenges in gathering naturally occurring interpreting data (Bendazzoli 2018) and the non-optimal state of the data for research purposes (Mason 2012: 180-182) pose significant obstacles to empirical studies. As a result, our analysis is based on a small-scale corpus composed of video recordings of the only six events sharing direct and indirect chunking activities. Collecting background information on the interpreters and their views on the situation back then also turns out to be unfeasible due to the secondary source of the data.

Nevertheless, with the available resources, we have provided a preliminary account of the collaborative chunking practice in CIPEs. In this ritualised setting, the organisational aspects and participants’ behaviour are utterly influenced by communicative norms and the asymmetrical status between the guest speaker and the interpreter. Our experience has shown the efficacy of multimodal analysis in highlighting the subtle nonverbal dimension of CIPEs. The corpus-based approach has been instrumental in elucidating the main features of chunking in diverse communicative situations. To corroborate our findings, further explorations of CIPEs in this direction are required. This would enable a more comprehensive insight into nonverbal chunking dynamics, hopefully based on larger data collection and triangulations with additional contextual information.

About the author(s)

Han Wang is a postdoctoral research fellow at the Department of Interpreting and Translation at the University of Bologna, Forlì, where she has taught translation and dialogue interpreting between Chinese and Italian since 2013. She holds a PhD degree in Translation, Interpretation and Intercultural Studies from the same university. Her research focuses on the multimodal and intercultural dimensions of consecutive interpreting. In addition to her academic work, she is a practising interpreter, with a client portfolio that includes various public institutions and leading corporations.

Mariachiara Russo is Professor of Spanish linguistics and Interpretation at the Department of Interpreting and Translation (DIT) of the University of Bologna at Forlì, and current Rector’s Delegate for Multilingualism. She holds an MA degree in Conference Interpreting from the University of Trieste, where she taught consecutive and simultaneous interpreting from 1993-2001. Since 2001, she has been teaching at DIT, where she coordinated the Master’s in Interpreting until 2015. She sat on the Steering Committee of the Knowledge Centre on Interpretation of the European Commission (2018-2020) and is a member of the CIUTI (https://www.ciuti.org/) Board since 2018. She coordinated the European Parliament Interpreting Corpus project (EPIC, https://bellatrix.sslmit.unibo.it/noske/epic2/#open) and the Unified Interpreting Corpus platform (UNIC, https://unic.dipintra.it/). She was an active member of the Erasmus+ Project Shift in orality. Shaping the interpreters of the future and of today (https://site.unibo.it/shiftinorality/en). Research fields: aptitude testing for interpreting, conference and liaison interpreting, corpus-based interpreting studies, remote interpreting, contrastive linguistics, and simultaneous film interpreting. https://www.unibo.it/sitoweb/mariachiara.russo

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

Straniero Sergio was the first scholar who looked at the functions that repetitions deployed by interpreters can have in interpreter-mediated interactions, specifically in the context of interviews during TV talk shows. Taking inspiration from his work, the present paper examines repetitions deployed by intercultural mediators working with migrants in the public sector in interactions where English is used as a lingua franca.  By analysing a dataset comprising interactions from the healthcare and educational settings and using a methodology grounded in Conversation Analysis, repetitions have been classified and investigated in order to understand their functions in interaction and their implications for public service interpreting. Results show that repetitions both of other speakers' words by the mediators and of the mediators’ own words can have the function of eliciting the migrant interlocutor’s confirmation of the information being gathered by the mediator. Repetitions are also shown to be deployed particularly when migrant speakers show low levels of language proficiency while speaking English as a lingua franca. In this context, mutual comprehension is often potentially at stake, and repetitions are shown to function as an effective way of double-checking migrant service users’ understanding, since they do not introduce new linguistic complexities in the exchange. Overall, the aim of this paper is to show how a conversational mechanism such as repetitions can also be used effectively to achieve interactional success in mediator-interpreted exchanges in the public sector.

Keywords: intercultural mediation, conversation analysis, institutional interaction, repetitions, migrants

1. Introduction

Of the many innovative scholarly contributions that Francesco Straniero Sergio made to research on interpreting, one which, to the best of my knowledge, was unique when it was first published in 2012, is relative to the functions and interactional implications of repetitions in dialogue interpreting, within the context of TV talk shows. In interviews during talk shows, when a professional interpreter is involved, interpreting can often take place both in the whispering and consecutive modes: the TV host’s utterances are translated via whispered interpreting for the TV guest, while the TV guest’s answers or comments are rendered consecutively. This allows the audience to listen to the TV guest’s own voice and native language, and to have a direct experience of their non-verbal language. By scrutinising the strategies used by interpreters in this context, Straniero Sergio (2012) showed that interpreters may repeat some lexical elements uttered by the TV host, when rendering the TV guest’s words, so as to create lexical cohesion. The following excerpt will exemplify the phenomenon:

Excerpt 1. (adapted from Straniero Sergio 2012) (H = tv host, G = tv guest, I = interpreter)

As we can see in the example, when providing their rendition of the TV guest’s utterance, the interpreter (line 3) repeats some of the words which had been previously uttered by the TV host when asking the question (line 1), ‘thereby strengthening the topical continuity between the question and the answer’ (Straniero Sergio 2012: 41). In concluding his paper Straniero Sergio provided a threefold classification of the repetitions in his data: comprehension-oriented, as they help the audience better understand the interaction, production-oriented, as they facilitate the interpreter in choosing translation equivalents, and finally interaction-oriented, as they favour mutual, intersubjective, understanding (Straniero Sergio 2012: 51).

Drawing inspiration directly from Straniero Sergio’s paper, by using a methodology grounded in Conversation Analysis (CA), the present study aims to further investigate the functions of repetitions in dialogue interpreting in different institutional settings; specifically my dataset comprises institutional encounters in the healthcare and educational settings. These two settings differ from the one examined by Straniero Sergio  first, for the absence of a silent audience (which the practice highlighted by Straniero Sergio makes reference to), and second, because they are characterised by less strict time constraints; while a TV interview is necessarily limited by the duration and the running order of the TV show, during medical consultations and parent-teacher meetings primary speakers have greater possibilities of modifying the duration of the interaction taking place. This allows for the initiation of dyadic sequences, between one primary speaker and the interpreter/mediator, to clarify potential misunderstandings and better negotiate the content of the interaction (cf. Section 2 for further details).

In line with Wadensjö’s observations about the ‘situatedness’ of renditions in interpreter-mediated interaction (cf. Wadensjö 1998: 154), also the repetitional phenomenon found in my data is different: while Straniero Sergio investigated cases of repetitions of words uttered by one primary speaker and inserted as a repetition within the interpreter’s rendition of the other primary speaker’s words, the repetitions investigated in this paper, on the one hand, occur within dyadic monolingual sequences where questions are being asked and answered, and, on the other hand, are not limited to repetitions of the primary speaker’s words, but can also be repetitions of a mediator’s own words. Following a quite established distinction within the literature on CA, all instances of repetitions have been first classified according to two main categories, the first being other-repetitions (ORs), regarding instances of a mediator’s repetition of the primary speaker’s words, the second being self-repetitions (SRs), occurring when a mediator repeats their own words from a previous turn-at-talk. Each of these two types of repetitions has been examined in detail and, as for SRs, three specific patterns have been singled out and independently described, in order to understand their function in mediator-interpreted interaction. What has been observed is that by deploying these repetitions, mediators not only acknowledge the receipt of what their interlocutor has said, but can also elicit further confirmation of the information that they are gathering from their interlocutor, even in cases in which a clear answer to the question being asked has already been provided by the primary interlocutor. Mediators seem to orient to the deployment of repetitions with such a function when the interaction involves primary interlocutors with difficulties in expressing themselves in English, used as a lingua franca, thus in scenarios where mutual understanding is potentially at stake, therefore confirming Straniero Sergio’s classification of repetitions in interpreter-mediated interaction as an interaction-oriented practice.

Before analysing specific examples of ORs and SRs (cf. Section 5), the following sections will provide an overview of previous research on the function of dyadic sequences in dialogue interpreting (cf. Section 2), on repetitions and their functions in interaction (cf. Section 3) and of the data and methods used for this study (cf. Section 4).

2. Dyadic sequences in mediator-interpreted institutional interaction

 The distinction between the monologic approach to interpreting, typical of conference interpreting, and the dialogic nature of interpreting taking place in public services was first clearly presented in the seminal work by Cecilia Wadensjö (1998), Interpreting as Interaction. Here the author highlights that, within the triadic setting of dialogue interpreting, interpreters are not mere conduits of translated messages, but they function as coordinators of the interaction, for example in allocating turns-at-talk, disambiguating potential trouble sources, preventing and/or correcting misunderstandings, and so on. This coordinating role entails the possibility and sometimes the necessity for interpreters/mediators to take communicative initiatives, in order to safeguard the positive and effective outcome of the triadic encounter. Further studies have confirmed this function, for example by showing how there might be circumstances in which interpreters need to address and answer their interlocutors’ questions or doubts directly (Metzger 1999). This fosters, as already noted by Wadensjö herself (1998: 11), the development of dyadic exchanges within the triadic encounter, namely monolingual sequences in which the interpreter/mediator only speaks either with the service provider or service user in their own language (cf. also Bolden 2000 and even more explicitly Davidson 2002). While some studies have foregrounded some potential downsides of dyadic sequences, such as the fact that they may enhance the patient’s sense of exclusion (Baraldi 2009), cause the potential exclusion of one participant (Gavioli and Baraldi 2011), or hinder direct contact within primary speakers (Cirillo 2012), other studies have focused on their positive effects in interaction. Dyadic sequences have been shown to support the patient from an affective point of view (Baraldi and Gavioli 2007), they have been found to be the locus of affective alignment while triadic sequences are more prone to cognitive alignment (Zorzi and Gavioli 2009), they can also be the locus where misunderstandings are cleared (Baraldi and Gavioli 2016), and they can offer the opportunity for mediators to negotiate what needs to be rendered (Baraldi 2023). Since service users show an orientation to communicating more effectively with the interlocutors who speak their own language, dyadic sequences are a decisive factor for the success or failure of triadic encounters (Gavioli and Merlini 2023). Finally, in one of her studies of the AIM Corpus (cf. Section 4), Gavioli (2015) has also shown that service providers, namely the clinicians, display an orientation to clarifying the information they want to gather from or communicate to the patient in dyadic sequences, which is coupled with the orientation to authorising the mediator to manage the communicative process with a certain degree of freedom, via a subsequent dyadic sequence with the patient. A similar orientation has also been described in the educational setting by Davitti who wrote that teachers ‘seem to pass the ‘baton’ of interaction to interpreters’ (2015: 18).

3. Repetitions and their functions in social interaction as described in the literature

As repetitions are such a pervasive element in talk-in-interaction both their definition and their many functions have been extensively discussed in the literature. Repetitions are a recurrent instance in human communication, since they regularly occur both in spoken and written language (Johnstone 1987: 206), although they appear to be more frequently found in oral discourse (Tannen 1987: 226). From a strictly linguistic point of view, definitions of repetitions are somehow blurred. Johnstone (1994: 3) notes that what can be considered as repetition ‘will have to do with how easily we can identify something as being “another one of those”’. She also highlights how the idea of repeated pattern is not generated only by the reoccurrence of the same lexical items but can be identified in the reiterated presence of the same sound(s) in different words (such as in the case of alliterations), or of the same prosodic patterns in different phrases or sentences, an idea which was also explored in talk-in-interaction by Jefferson (1996). As regards the scope of this study, following Schegloff (1997), with the word repetition (or repeat) I refer to the reproduction of a preceding word, phrase, or sentence in the conversational continuum. More precisely, in Schegloff’s words:

The use of the term ‘repetition’ or ‘repeat’ here is more or less strict; that is, it allows for transformations geared to deixis, tense shift, speaker change, etc., as well as changes of prosody; it excludes paraphrase and other substantial rewording of its target. (Schegloff 1997: 525)

Such definition will be applied to cases of other-repetition (OR), while instances of self-repetition (SR) may also be defined, in line with the literature (Schegloff 1987), as instances of recycling. In the CA literature, there is an established practice of examining repetitions according to two specific characteristics (Schegloff 1996), namely their intonational contour and their sequential position. As for the former, the aspect which will be considered here is the pitch movement at the end of the turn (rising or falling contour), since prosody ‘furnishes important, if not crucial cues as to what a speaker is doing when repeating the words of another in subsequent position’ (Couper-Khulen 2020: 521). As for the latter, repetitions can generally both occur in first position, for example when the words of a speaker are repeated by another to ask a clarification question, and in second position, for instance when answering a question or responding to a greeting. In addition, whenever a speaker reacts to an utterance in second position by producing a new utterance, said reaction will occupy a third position, in which also repetitions have been observed to occur. As all instances of ORs considered in the present study are examples of repetitions of answers provided by the mediators’ interlocutor they fall under the definition of third-position repetitions; they also all happen to be uttered with a final falling intonation contour. Conversely, all the SRs analysed below are examples of first-position repetitions with rising intonation, since they are the redoing of questions previously asked by the mediators.

As for the functions of repetitions in interaction, the CA literature has shown that speakers deploy ORs so as to connect their turns-at-talk to the preceding ones. For instance, Drew (2013) shows that repetition is one of the four principal ways in which speakers design their turns and display them to be connected to and coherent with prior turns. Besides, repetition of words by one speaker can represent an opportunity for another interlocutor to enter the speaker’s turn-space and therefore can constitute a case of conditional entry (Hayashi 2013: 184), but they can also be deployed by next speakers as a means to (re)take the floor (Simpson 1994), or to compete for it (Schegloff 2004). ORs can also be deployed to make an epistemic claim when answering questions (Raymond 2003; Stivers 2005; Heritage and Raymond 2012), to initiate or close repair sequences (Schegloff, Jefferson and Sacks 1977; Kitzinger 2013), to introduce rejection, corrections, disalignments and other dispreferred actions (Pomerantz 1984), to confirm allusions (Schegloff 1996). With regards to the correlation between sequential position and intonation contour, among the early studies that looked at the interactional functions of these two aspects when combined, Schegloff (1997) noted that, while ORs with rising intonation tend to be associated with the initiation of repair, while third-position ORs with falling intonation contour can also have the function of registering and acknowledging the receipt of information. However, Schegloff also highlighted that third-position ORs with falling intonation can lead to an ambiguity about whether they register receipt or initiate repair, since some speakers orient to proffering some sort of confirmation after the repetition. Rossi (2020: 514) suggests that one way of solving this ambiguity is by looking at whether the repeated talk ‘is “taken in” rather than problematised’. Another study has confirmed that ORs with falling intonation can be uttered to register receipt but also to present a claim of understanding (Svennevig 2004) while, in a study of interactions between palliative care doctors and patients, third-position ORs with falling intonation have been shown to prompt the patients to add further details to what they have already said in their answer to previous questions (Jenkins et al. 2021).

As for SRs, fewer studies have examined their function in interaction. However, the CA literature has shown that SRs are often associated with initiating or solving instances of repair (Schegloff 2004) or with the phenomenon defined as framing, in which a speaker repeats their own words so as to highlight the relevance of one single word which has been changed in the repetition (Schegloff 2013). Besides, a few studies have found other functions of SRs, such as displaying that the speaker finds ‘the prior speaker’s course of action problematic and proposes that that course of action be halted’ (Stivers 2004: 288), closing sequences of talk (Curl, Local and Walker 2006), delaying the uttering of other sequentially adjacent words (Lerner 1996).

4. Data and Methods

The dataset analysed for the present study comprises audio-recorded interpreted interactions from two different institutional settings within the provinces of Modena and Reggio Emilia, in the North of Italy. The first subset of data contains seven interactions from the healthcare setting; these are gynaecological visits involving Italian clinicians, and patients and mediators from Nigeria or Ghana speaking English, for a total of approximately three hours of recordings. The second subset of data is completed by six more interactions from the educational setting, adding approximately two hours of recordings to the dataset. These are parent-teacher meetings recorded in local schools: two of them were recorded in a nursery school with Nigerian parents and mediator, speaking English, while the remaining four interactions involved Ghanaian mediators and parents speaking Twi, a Ghanaian language commonly used as a lingua franca in Ghana (Huber 2013) and containing loanwords from English.

In line with the Italian public system, interpreting services in the data are provided by intercultural mediators (CNEL 2009), also known as linguistic and cultural mediators (Falbo 2013; Baraldi and Gavioli 2019). Like the users they help, all linguistic and cultural mediators have a personal history of migration and the main language of mediation analysed in the data is English as a lingua franca (EFL). Various studies have focused on interpreting as provided by intercultural mediators from a professional perspective (Merlini 2009b; Pittarello 2009; Pöchhacker 2008; Gavioli and Wadensjö 2023; among others), and while some studies have highlighted some critical aspects of linguistic and cultural mediation (Bolden 2000; Davidson 2000, 2001; Merlini 2009a; Baraldi and Gavioli 2019), others have shown its effectiveness in coordinating various aspects of interactions between migrant patients and clinicians (Luatti 2011; Baraldi and Gavioli 2012; Urlotti 2023). For an analysis of the role of intercultural mediation in interpreting studies within the Italian context and in the interaction please also refer to Gavioli and Baraldi (this issue).

Both subsets come from a much larger corpora of mediator-interpreted interactions, the AIM Corpus (Corradini et al. 2024), collecting around 700 mediator-interpreted interactions in multiple settings and with different languages, the most represented being English, French, Mandarin Chinese, and Arabic. This corpus is the result of a long-lasting research cooperation between the University of Modena and Reggio Emilia and the public services of the area, the major one being with public healthcare. The interactions in the educational setting come from a recent collection, gathered for a Horizon 2020 project (CHILD-UP Corpus, cf. Baraldi 2021) and now them too included in the AIM corpus. All data were transcribed using ELAN 6.2, an open-source software which allows for great accuracy in the synchronization of the recordings with their transcripts^[1]. The transcription conventions (cf. the details at the end of this paper) follow the Jeffersonian style which is usually adopted for CA, and all backtranslations of the data in English are by the author.

This paper develops a recent study scrutinizing the role of repetitions in combination with multi-part renditions as a practice to maintain mutual understanding between interlocutors in mediator-interpreted institutional encounters (Urlotti 2024). The analysis, there and here, has been carried out using the analytical tools offered by CA. Within the CA theoretical framework some of the concepts which are particularly significant for this study are the general idea that speakers orient to designing their turns-at-talk by considering their recipient’s characteristics, a practice also called recipient design (Sacks, Schegloff and Jefferson 1974). Another type of speaker orientation which is paramount for this study is the orientation to the interlocutors’ knowledge about the topics at hand, which falls within the domain of epistemics (Heritage 2012a, 2012b) and, finally, the mechanism of preference in relation to responses (Pomerantz 1984; Schegloff 2007), the idea that certain elements in responses, such as inter-turn delays, prefaces, mitigations or accounts, indicate that the given response may show disalignment with the questioner.

Before moving to the analysis of the data, an explanation is required on the selection of the extracts shown below and their relationship with the phenomenon at hand. As previously stated, this paper develops a wider study of repetitions within multi-part renditions, which were found in both settings included in my dataset, the healthcare and educational ones. Nevertheless, the only instances of the types of repetitions described in this paper were found in the data coming from the healthcare setting. As the analysis below will show, such repetitions seem to be deployed by mediators when interlocutors show a lack of linguistic competence which might put mutual understanding at stake. As a matter of fact, the interactions in the educational subset involve either speakers of Twi, who do not seem to have problems in using the language, or speakers of English as a lingua franca who show an above-average linguistic competence. Conversely, all the migrants from the healthcare subset speak English as a lingua franca at notably different levels of proficiency, with some cases of speakers at times struggling to express themselves, with whom mediators deploy the types of repetitions here examined.

5. Repetitions in mediator-interpreted interaction

This section is dedicated to presenting extracts from the data which can effectively exemplify some of the functions that repetitions can have in mediator-interpreted interaction. In my analysis I am only going to focus on repetitions uttered by mediators after a patient’s response. In uttering a repetition, mediators initiate a short dyadic sequence which may produce a specific effect on the exchange, thus clarifying what function the repetition has had in the interaction. As previously specified, repetitions will be divided into two different groups, according to whose words the mediator is repeating: in those cases, in which she is repeating the patient’s words, I will use the definition of other-repetition (OR), while if she repeats (or recycles) her own words, I will opt for the definition of self-repetition (SR). One issue that should be given some consideration before getting into the detail of the analysis is that the patients involved in interactions where instances of ORs or SRs are found display lower levels of language proficiency in English as a lingua franca (ELF). Despite their coming from countries where ELF is commonly spoken by most of the population, such as Nigeria or Ghana, not all migrants speak it at the same level of competence, creating discrepant levels of proficiency, which can be the cause of serious misunderstandings or other communicative problems when accessing public services. Therefore, there seems to be a correlation in the examples below between the use of repetitions and lower levels of linguistic competence in ELF, which would characterize my occurrences as particularly apt to accomplish clarification functions. I will now proceed with the analysis of the two groups of sequences, starting from the examples of ORs. Section 5.1 will be entirely dedicated to the main type of ORs I have in my data, while Section 5.2 will present three main types of SRs and their functions.

5.1 Other-repetitions

The pattern of ORs which is presented in this study can be summarised as follows: first there is a wh-question asked by the mediator (first position), which is followed by a response with which the patient provides some information (second position), and then a repetition of the patient’s answer is produced by the mediator (third position) with falling intonation, hence all the ORs here analysed belong to the category of third position ORs with falling intonation. As previously described (cf. Section 3), the existing literature on third position ORs with falling intonation has already highlighted that this type of repetition displays that the utterance produced in second position has been received and/or registered (Schegloff 1996: 179); in other words, it might be said that such a repeat is useful to acknowledge the relevance of a speaker’s previous talk. The analyses below will show that acknowledging the receipt of the interlocutor’s utterances can have a fundamental role in guaranteeing and safeguarding mutual understanding in a context where the use of a lingua franca may put comprehension at stake. This idea is further corroborated by the fact that these repetitions registering the information provided by the patient systematically occur before the mediators’ renditions into Italian, thus directly linking their function to the mediating process.

Another element which completes the description of the pattern here presented, and is fundamental for the analysis, is the presence of elements which a mediator may interpret as a sign of the patient’s hesitation in between the mediator’s question in first position and the patient’s answer in second position. Usually, such hesitations take the form of an interturn gap that is longer than 0.2 seconds. On the length of inter-turn gaps, it should be specified that the CA literature has shown how English speakers orient to a 0.25 second silence as a possible transition relevance place (TRP), namely a moment in the interaction when another speaker takes the floor and produces an utterance (Hepburn and Bolden 2017). Thus, any longer gap may be interpreted as a sign that there is some interactional dynamic which is preventing the interlocutor from taking the floor, therefore also as a sign of hesitation. The following extract showcases a clear example of this pattern, completed by a third position OR with falling intonation:

Extract 3. (M = mediator; P = patient)

As the extract shows, after asking the question (lines 1 and 2), the patient’s response ‘eight’ (line 4) is preceded by a 0.3 gap (line 3) and by a stretched ‘a:h’, another element which may be interpreted as a sign of hesitation or doubt, and it is promptly repeated by the mediator with falling intonation (line 5). The mediator then proceeds to translate the information for the clinician (line 7) after leaving a 0.3 gap (line 6), one which is potentially long enough for the patient to be able to add something. In doing so the mediator shows an orientation to leaving space for potential expansions, and to making sure that the patient does not want to add anything to the previous answer; the same applies to the idea that, by repeating what the patient has said, the mediator offers the patient a possibility to rectify or correct the piece of information that is being discussed. Consequently, this extract also seems to be in line with the function of third position ORs with falling intonation as sequence closing elements (Schegloff 1997).

However, as previously said (cf. Section 3), third position ORs with falling intonation can sometimes also be interpreted by the speakers engaged in talk-in-interaction as initiating repair or requesting confirmation (Schegloff 1997), prompting the interlocutor to utter a reaction to such repetition. The following extract illustrates an instance in which such reaction is produced:

Extract 4. (M = mediator; P = patient)

Here we can see that the mediator’s question (line 1) is followed by a long inter-turn gap (line 3). Then, like in the previous extract, the patient’s answer (line 4) is preceded first by a stretched token which announces that the patient is going to answer and then by a micropause; these three elements together account for a patient’s display of potential uncertainty and hesitation. After the patient’s answer, the mediator immediately produces a repetition of the given information (line 5) which, unlike in the previous extract, is here followed first by a 0.4 gap (line 6) and then by a confirmation token uttered by the patient (line 7). In line with Schegloff (1997), the patient orients to interpreting the mediator’s repetition as a repair initiation or as a request for confirmation. Moreover, like at the end of the previous extract, after the patient’s confirmation token has been uttered (line 7), the mediator seems to leave the necessary space for the patient to add extra information by waiting 1.1 seconds (line 8) before producing her translation of the information provided by the patient (line 9).

In line with this consideration, apart from being interpreted as a request for confirmation, in my data patients seem to orient to another function of mediators’ ORs, that of eliciting expansions, like in the following extract:

Extract 5. (M = mediator; P = patient)

In this extract we can see that the mediator is enquiring the patient about her period (line 1) and specifically about when she last had one (line 3). Like extract 3 and extract 4, also in this extract the patient’s answer (line 5) is preceded by a relatively long gap (0.6) (line 4). Unlike the previous extract, extract 5 presents a new element which introduces the actual answer (line 5); before uttering ‘I saw it last month’ the patient prefaces it with ‘m:h I don’t remember’, a sentence which on the one hand seems like a disclaimer, while on the other it seems to introduce a caveat, not to be overlooked by the mediator, that the information provided by the patient might not be accurate. This type of patient expressed caveat, having to do with the patient’s ability to recall the required information, represents a type of potential trouble source in mediator-interpreted interaction which is not strictly connected to the patient’s linguistic competences but is relative to their cognitive abilities, therefore prompting the mediator to double-check the gathered information. The mediator indeed acknowledges her receipt of the information with a third position OR with falling intonation (line 6), which, like in the previous extract, is interpreted by the patient as a request for confirmation, signalled by the ‘yeah’ uttered at the beginning of line 7. However, the patient doesn’t limit herself to a confirmation token but goes on to add extra information ‘but I saw it (0.3) thrice’ which completes the answer to the mediator’s original question (line 3). In this case the OR has elicited not only a confirmation but also an expansion.

The analysis of the previous three extracts shows that third position ORs with falling intonation in mediator-interpreted interaction can be deployed as a way for the mediator to acknowledge the receipt of the information provided, in an interactional context in which hesitations or potential trouble sources are also apparent. Such acknowledgment can give the patient the possibility to rectify or amend the repeated information. In other cases, the data show that ORs are interpreted by the patient as a request for confirmation, such confirmation providing the mediator with an extra possibility to verify whether the information is correct. Finally, third position ORs with falling intonation are also observed to elicit expansions which add details to the patient’s answer. These repetitions, uttered during the dyadic exchange between mediator and patient and preceding the mediator’s rendition of the gathered information into Italian, signal the mediators’ orientation to not taking the reception of such information for granted, thus decreasing the possibilities for potential misunderstandings.

5.2 Self-repetitions

While SRs have been found to be mostly associated with repair initiatives in the literature (cf. Section 3), in my data SRs seem to be often deployed as a confirmation seeking device. A clear pattern which emerges is that the mediator asks a yes/no question to the patient, which is followed by the patient’s ‘yes’ as an answer; however, despite having received a clear positive answer, the mediator repeats the same question with a little variation so as to elicit a second positive confirmation. The CA literature is also familiar with the notion that repetitions that are identical in all aspects, including prosody, tend to be treated by other speakers as showing a problem with hearing (Schegloff 2004). In line with this consideration, another interesting feature of the types of SRs presented in the following three subsections is that mediators design their confirmation-seeking SRs so as to include some slight variations; by doing so, they avoid making their SRs too linguistically complicated, as such complexity might be the cause of misunderstanding with migrants showing poor levels of language proficiency. For reasons of space only one exemplar per practice is provided as an example.

5.2.1   Self-repetitions with epistemic upgrade

The first pattern of modified SRs includes the repetition of the same question from an epistemically upgraded stance. In his theorisation of epistemics in interaction, Heritage (2012a, 2012b) has shown how speakers can modify the design of their utterances so as to display their positioning on an epistemic gradient, moving from a less knowledgeable [K-] stance to a more knowledgeable [K+] one. An interrogative polar question with rising intonation, for instance, shows a K- epistemic stance compared to a K+ declarative question (Couper-Khulen and Selting 2018), also known as a B-event statement (Labov and Fanshel 1977), which is a turn designed as a statement eliciting confirmation or information. The following extract will present a clear example of change in epistemic stance through an SR:

Extract 6. (M = mediator; P = patient)

In this extract the mediator is asking the patient about a medicine that she is supposed to take throughout her pregnancy, and she needs to know whether the patient still has enough of it. In lines 3 and 4 the mediator designs her first question ‘eh you still have? (.) enough of it?’ syntactically as a statement, but with rising intonation. After a long gap (line 5) the patient produces an answer ‘yes’, preceded by a false start ‘y-’ (line 6). As in the extracts regarding ORs, here we see the combination of a long gap with a false start, showing hesitation before providing the answer. In the following line the mediator produces an acknowledgment token ‘mh’ followed by a 0.5 pause and then deploys an SR of the same question ‘you still have enough.’ (line 7). Unlike the first-time proffering (line 3 and 4) now the question is designed as a statement, with falling intonation. This shift in intonation, from rising (line 4) to falling (line 7), accounts for the epistemic upgrading of the question, which in its second version is seeking confirmation. The patient utters her confirmation ‘yeah’ (line 8) and the mediator acknowledges it with a ‘mh okay’ (line 9). If we consider a recipient with poor language skills, this type of modified SR serves the purpose of asking for confirmation without introducing new linguistic elements which might put the patient’s comprehension at stake.

5.2.2   Inverted-order self-repetitions

I have called the second type of modified SR inverted-order self-repetitions by reason of the kind of modification in the design of the repetition of the original question; such modification, indeed, consists of a change in the word order of the phrases constituting the question itself. The following extract will serve as an exemplification of this mechanism:

Extract 7. (M = mediator; P = patient; D = doctor)

In this extract the doctor asks a question about the regularity of the patient’s period (line 1 and 2). The design of this question looks somewhat complicated as the micropause, combined with the use of two semantically equivalent expressions ‘every twenty-eight thirty days’ and ‘all the months’, seem to indicate (line 1 and 2). The question design is also complicated by the repetition of the verb ‘vengono’ (literally ‘they come’ referring to the patient’s periods). However, the question is asked in one turn-at-talk with an orientation to selecting the right words to design the question, which seems to rule out the possible argument that it is the doctor in the first place who repeats the same question by inverting the order of the phrases. The orientation to deploying a SR will instead become apparent when analysing the mediator’s turns. The mediator first asks the question in line 4. This is followed by a 0.4 inter-turn gap (line 5) and by a ‘yes’ uttered by the patient (line 6). Nevertheless, despite having received a clear answer to her question, the mediator repeats the same question by inverting the position of the two phrases ‘they come’ and ‘every month’. As for the previous extract, this way of rephrasing the same question without introducing new linguistic elements seems to be particularly functional in the case of an interlocutor with poor language skills. Moreover, this extract can also be taken as an example of SR with epistemic upgrading; as a matter of fact, the intonation of the two questions shifts from slightly rising (line 4) to falling intonation (line 6), therefore accounting for a case of epistemic upgrading.

5.2.3   Self-repetitions with expansions

The distinctive characteristic of the third type of modified self-repetition is the addition of a new element to the repeated question. The CA literature has for long been familiar with the phenomenon usually referred to as increments, in which words or phrases are added to a previous TCU (turn constructional unit) ‘not as a new TCU, but as a continuation of the preceding TCU’ (Schegloff 2016: 241). However, since the SRs in my data, being the repetition of a previous question, are by definition new TCUs, the element which is added to them cannot be defined as an increment proper and the term cannot be applied. I have therefore chosen to adopt the broader term expansion, following Auer (2007: 651) in his attempt at approaching the topic of unit expansions in conversational speech in a more general way than it has been described in the CA literature about increments. The following extract will showcase an example of SR followed by an expansion:

Extract 8. (M = mediator; P = patient; D = doctor)

After the doctor has asked a question about whether the patient is able to eat (line 1), the mediator first asks the question once (line 3) and, after a 0.6 second gap (line 4) and a ‘ye:s’ uttered by the patient (line 5), she deploys an identical repeat of the same question to which she adds the word ‘fine’ (line 6). The patient understands the question and confirms the request (line 7), and finally the mediator acknowledges the confirmation with a ‘m:h’ (line 8). A few aspects of this expansion are worth commenting on. First of all, while the added word ‘fine’ is semantically compatible with the question it is added to, its addition does not drastically change the meaning of said question. Secondly, if the previous comment is accepted as true, the expansion seems to have the purpose of signalling that the same question has been asked one more time, more than highlighting that something new has been added to the sentence. Lastly, although this pattern differs from the previous two, since it introduces a new linguistic component to the question design, the word added as an expansion does not introduce an element of complexity and therefore is suitable to achieve effective communication with speakers whose language skills are poor.

6. Concluding remarks

The analysis has shown different functions of various types of repetitions in mediator-interpreted interaction. To facilitate an orderly classification of the phenomena at hand, repetitions have been first categorised according to whose words were being repeated by the mediators: in case these were the words of one of the primary speakers, the repetition has been defined as other-repetition (OR), while in those cases in which mediators repeat their own words, the repetition has been defined as self-repetition (SR).

As regards ORs, I have shown how they are often deployed during information gathering sequences to acknowledge the receipt of the elicited information, leading to the closure of the dyadic sequence so as to move to the rendition into Italian (cf. extract 3). However, ORs may also be interpreted by the patient as a request for confirmation (extract 4 and 5), sometimes leading to further expansions (extract 5). This last function seems to confirm the results of another study which has shown how third position other-repetitions with falling intonation deployed by clinicians may elicit information from patients (Jenkins et al. 2021). More generally my results regarding ORs and their functions are in line with what was already known in the literature (Schegloff 1997) but had not been applied to nor verified in mediator-interpreted interaction.

Conversely, as regards SRs and their functions in interaction, the analysis has foregrounded a function of SRs which has not been described in the literature before, namely that of seeking confirmation after a yes/no question which has received a ‘yes’ as a clear answer. With this practice mediators seem to treat the first ‘yes’ as not sufficient for the information gathering process and orient to making sure that a redoing of the same question is met with the same type of answer. The analysis has also shown that, in order to carry out this confirmation-seeking function, SRs are designed by mediators with slight variations of different types: on the one hand, through such variations, mediators avoid deploying an identical repeat, which could be interpreted as signalling a problem of hearing, while on the other hand they avoid rephrasing, and thus maintain a level of complexity similar to that of the first question, which had already received a plausible answer. This element seems to be directly linked to another aspect which became apparent through the analysis of both ORs and SRs: in my data repetitions in mediator-interpreted interactions are deployed after a patient’s answer which displays some sort of hesitation, such as longer inter-turn gaps, false starts, stretched sounds within words, or when the patients introduce a caveat such as stating ‘I don’t remember’ before providing an answer. In other words, repetitions seem to be deployed as a confirmation-seeking device after perturbations or caveats in talk-in-interaction which may display that mutual understanding is at stake.

When looking at the analysis of ORs and SRs together, one might legitimately ask whether the two types of repetition are a different realisation of the same practice. The only SRs which were found in my data, apart all cases of self-repair which were excluded from the analysis, were cases of confirmation-seeking SRs. As regards ORs, although I have shown that, in line with the existing literature, some of the ORs in my data are interpreted by the other speaker as a request for confirmation, there are still various cases of ORs which can be ascribed to the simple function of registering receipt of the information, a function which has already been acknowledged as fundamental in the context of institutional interactions (Rossi 2020: 514). Thus, one of the aims of this paper is to show that despite the various functions of different types of repetitions in my data, what can be found as a common element among all of them is the mediators’ orientation to ascertaining that the information they are gathering is correct, therefore fulfilling their institutional task efficiently and responsibly.

As a matter of fact, the purpose of this paper is not only to look at the presence of repetitions in mediator-interpreted interaction from a strictly conversation-analytical point of view, but also to provide insights into some relevant professional implications for linguistic and cultural mediators working with migrants. The fact that in my data repetitions have been shown to be deployed in circumstances when mutual understanding seems to be potentially at stake once again highlights the paramount importance of the coordinating function of intercultural mediators. First of all, migrants as public service users often find themselves in a position of special vulnerability owing to their condition of displaced people accessing public services in a foreign country. Secondly, when English is used as a lingua franca, various issues are raised concerning both how a migrant’s native language influences their way of speaking English (Guido 2018), and how their specific lack of linguistic competence in general can hinder effective communication. These are factors which should not be overlooked by linguistic and cultural mediators.

Therefore, from the point of view of research on interpreting, it can be argued that this study contributes to shedding light on how repetitions can be deployed by mediators as an effective means to double-check the service users’ and their own understanding of the information that is being discussed. Repetitions have been shown to have multiple advantages: first, they do not significantly modify what has already been said in the interaction, therefore constituting only a minor variation to the interaction; second, by using repetitions mediators can avoid more complex linguistic formulations which might hinder comprehension for service users with poor linguistic competences; finally, repetitions are not only useful to verify the information that has already been provided but can potentially leave space for expansions providing further information. In conclusion, this study shows how some communicative practices involving repetitions can be deployed by mediators in order to safeguard the information gathering process and ultimately contribute to the successful outcome of the institutional encounter.

About the author(s)

Daniele Urlotti is a postdoctoral research fellow and adjunct professor in the Department of Linguistic and Cultural Studies at the University of Modena and Reggio Emilia, where he completed a PhD in Human Sciences. His research centres on institutional communication in healthcare and educational settings studied through Conversation Analysis, with a special focus on interactions involving migrant service users who require assistance from interpreters or intercultural mediators.

Email: [please login or register to view author's email address]

Abstract

English:

This paper focuses on requests for repetition in interpreter-mediated interactions in a teaching/learning context. The analysis is based on a corpus of around twenty role-played interactions recorded during dialogue interpreting courses both with BA and MA students of French-Italian interpreting and concentrates on requests of repetitions performed by student-interpreters as metadiscoursal coordinative acts. Our study highlights the positions, forms and functions of the requests as well as the sequences they trigger, normally inviting a repetition on the part of the addressed recipient of what has been previously said. Our hypothesis is that, for both BA and MA students, requests for repetition fulfil functions which are closely related to their mastery of both the French language and the interactional dynamics of the (simulated) conversation. Their study thus provides a cue into the students’ achievement of interactional coordination dynamics – or lack thereof.

French:

Cet article se focalise sur la requête de répétition dans des interactions avec interprète en situation didactique. L’analyse se base sur un corpus d’une vingtaine d’interactions simulées (jeux de rôle), enregistrées lors de cours d’interprétation de dialogue en troisième année de licence et en deuxième année de master, et vise à mettre au jour la prégnance et la valeur de la requête de répétition dans un contexte d’apprentissage de l’interprétation de dialogue, ainsi que sa portée didactique. L’observation porte sur la place, les formes, les fonctions de cet acte métadiscursif et sur les enchaînements qu’il déclenche, lesquels, de manière générale, correspondent à une reprise de ce qui a été dit auparavant. L’hypothèse est que chez les deux groupes d’étudiant·e·s, la requête de répétition remplit des fonctions différentes selon leur maitrise de la langue française et des dynamiques interactionnelles.

Keywords: requête de répétition, interaction avec interprète, jeu de rôle, didactique, interprétation de dialogue, request of repetition, interpreter-mediated interaction, role-play, dialogue interpreting, pedagogy

1. Introduction^[1]

La requête de répétition est un acte métadiscursif qui signale, en un point de l’échange entre un·e locuteur·rice^[2] x (Lx) et un·e locuteur·rice y (Ly), une incompréhension, dont les causes peuvent être variées, et a pour fonction de solliciter l’information manquante. De toute évidence, elle appartient à l’ensemble des repair (Schegloff et al. 1977 ; Jefferson 1987) et peut être formulée de manière directe ou indirecte (Kerbrat-Orecchioni 2016 : 98-109). Son apparition déclenche la reprise d’un dire précédent (Kerbrat-Orecchioni 1992 ; Kerbrat-Orecchioni 2016) prenant la forme d’une répétition ou d’une reformulation.

Dans les interactions verbales avec interprète en situation didactique, la requête de répétition est un phénomène récurrent. Dans une première étude focalisée sur la répétition que nous avions menée sur un corpus assez consistant de jeux de rôle enregistrés entre 2017 et 2023 pendant des cours d’Introduction à l’interprétation de dialogue (ID)^[3] en troisième année de licence en Communication interlinguistique appliquée (Falbo, Janot à paraître), nous analysions ce type de requête comme indiquant les difficultés que rencontrent les apprenant·e·s dans leur effort cognitif au niveau de la compréhension et de la mémorisation des contenus en vue de la traduction.

Nous nous proposons ici d’observer de plus près cet acte métadiscursif afin d’en dégager la place, les formes et les fonctions ainsi que les enchaînements qu’il déclenche et qui, de manière générale, correspondent à une reprise de ce qui a été dit auparavant sous la forme d’une répétition ou d’une reformulation. Nous nous interrogerons sur la portée didactique de la requête de répétition en comparant les résultats des analyses menées sur deux corpus différents, à savoir des jeux de rôle proposés aux étudiant·e·s de troisième année de licence pendant des cours d’introduction à l’ID et à celles et ceux des cours d'interprétation de dialogue en deuxième année de master. Notre objectif est d’observer quand et sous quelles formes les deux groupes d’étudiant·e·s recourent à la requête de répétition, afin de mettre au jour les différences éventuelles entre des apprenant·e·s de deux niveaux différents. Nous formulons l’hypothèse que chez les étudiant·e·s de master qui, théoriquement, maîtrisent mieux la langue et les dynamiques interactionnelles, le recours à la requête de répétition est moins fréquent et qu’il prend la forme, quand il se produit, d’autres actes illocutoires, comme par exemple une demande de confirmation, répondant ainsi à la nécessité pour les apprenant·e·s-interprètes de protéger leur face positive (Goffman 1967; Brown et Levinson 1987; Kerbrat-Orecchioni 1992, 2005, 2013).

Dans cette contribution, nous définirons d’abord la requête de répétition et les phénomènes de reprise qu’elle déclenche, c’est-à-dire la répétition et la reformulation. Nous présenterons ensuite les deux corpus étudiés et la scène didactique qui les caractérise, à savoir le jeu de rôle, pour passer ensuite à l’analyse de la requête de répétition adressée par l’apprenant·e-interprète aux locuteur·rice·s primaires. Nous dégagerons les schémas correspondant à son emplacement dans l'échange simulé et analyserons ses formes et ses fonctions, selon le niveau des apprenant·e·s. Nous nous interrogerons également sur sa fonction didactique en tant qu’acte métadiscursif déclenchant des reprises de ce qui a été dit précédemment.

2. Requête, répétition, reformulation : quelques repères théoriques

Au sein des actes directifs, la requête consiste en « un énoncé pour demander à son interlocuteur d’accomplir un acte quelconque (à caractère non langagier) » (Kerbrat-Orecchioni 2016 : 98). Le « caractère non langagier » de l’action requise n’exclut pas la possibilité de considérer comme une requête indirecte conventionnelle une demande d’information telle que « Vous avez l’heure ? » puisque, tout en sollicitant une information qui sera fournie à quelques exceptions près par le biais d’une production verbale, elle porte sur la possibilité de l’interlocuteur·rice de fournir ou pas l’information demandée. De même, « Vous pouvez répéter ? » porte sur la disponibilité et la possibilité de l’interlocuteur·rice de revenir sur son dire antérieur, ce qui débouche en général sur l’action de le reproduire en ayant recours à une répétition ou à une reformulation. Si la formulation directe de la requête passe par l’« utilisation d’une formule explicitement performative » comme par exemple « ‘Je t’ordonne de fermer la porte’ » ou par le « recours au mode impératif » du type « ‘Ferme la porte’ » (Kerbrat-Orecchioni 2016 : 99), les formulations indirectes sont beaucoup plus diversifiées et peuvent être exprimées de nombreuses manières. Très souvent, la requête prend la forme d’autres actes de langage comme une question, par exemple, ou une suggestion, une assertion, un constat, qui comprennent des modalisateurs tels que « pouvoir » ou « vouloir » à l’indicatif ou au conditionnel^[4]. Quelle que soit la forme de la requête, d’un point de vue interactionnel, elle ouvre une séquence de réparation qui s’accompagne de stratégies de politesse verbale visant à atténuer la menace que comporte toute requête et à protéger les faces des interlocuteur·rice·s (Kerbrat-Orecchioni 1992, 2005, 2013).

Pour ce qui est des processus et des résultats de la reformulation et de la répétition, phénomènes produits par la requête de répétition, ils ont fait l’objet de bon nombre d’études qui ont tenté d’en définir les contours. Le foisonnement terminologique et les différentes définitions qui en ont été données témoignent d’une réflexion étendue visant à établir, entre autres, les rapports entre ces deux notions en termes de nature des phénomènes étudiés et de leurs fonctions notamment dans l’interaction. Si tout le monde s’accorde à dire que le fait de redire un déjà dit contribue à la cohérence, à la cohésion ainsi qu’à la co-construction du discours en interaction à travers un éventail de fonctions conversationnelles, il est possible de repérer des différences quant à la conception, au classement et aux résultats de l’action de re-dire.

Une présentation approfondie des différents positionnements irait bien au-delà des objectifs de la présente étude d’autant plus que ni la répétition ni la reformulation ne font l’objet de notre analyse. Nous nous limiterons donc à une définition opérationnelle des deux. Nous nous alignons sur le choix d’André (2010 : 202), qui, reprenant à son compte, entre autres, les apports de De Gaulmyn (1987), Gülich et Kotschi (1987) et Vion (2005), définit la répétition comme une reprise où « aucune modification lexicale n’est effectuée » et où « seuls des éléments mimogestuels, prosodiques, paraverbaux et situationnels peuvent être modifiés » (cf. aussi Bazzanella 1999a et b), et la reformulation comme un phénomène où  « il y a identité sémantique ou ‘relation sémantique’ » entre l’énoncé source et sa reformulation (Gülich et Kotschi 1987 : 30), ce qui exclut la reformulation non paraphrastique illustrée notamment par Martinot (2015: 3) et Rossari (1990). Nous précisons également que toute reprise des propos d’un·e locuteur·rice par un·e autre locuteur·rice comporte forcément un « changement de perspective énonciative » (Prak-Derrington 2008 : 251 ; cf. aussi Magri-Mourgues et Rabatel 2015 : 3 ; Cook in Straniero Sergio 2012 : 28) dans la mesure où le changement de locuteur·rice entraîne une variation des éléments contextuels et conversationnels.

Dans le cadre plus spécifique des recherches sur l’interprétation de dialogue, la répétition a fait l’objet de peu d’études systématiques. Nous retenons celles de Straniero Sergio (2012), qui, à partir des apports de Tannen (1989), Johnstone (1994) et Brody (1994), établit une distinction entre « exact repetition », « repetition with variation » et « paraphrase ». Il est important de préciser ici qu’à l’instar de Straniero Sergio (2012) nous considérons la répétition comme un phénomène qui se manifeste dans la même langue et non pas dans le passage d’une langue à l’autre. Il en est de même pour la reformulation, qui, dans la didactique de l’interprétation surtout, est toujours étudiée dans une perspective interlinguistique que nous n’adoptons pas ici. Par conséquent, contrairement à ce que nous trouvons dans Bot (2005) et Traverso (2017)^[5], ce sont les tours des différent·e·s participant·e·s à l’interaction qui s’expriment dans la même langue (apprenant·e-interprète<>Lx ; apprenant·e-interprète<>Ly) qui feront l’objet de notre étude, dans une perspective, par conséquent, intralinguistique.

C’est à partir de ce cadre de référence que nous verrons comment reformulation et répétition se combinent, se mêlent, s’alternent dans l’interaction pour répondre aux besoins conversationnels des interactant·e·s à la recherche d’un sens partagé.

3. Corpus étudiés : caractéristiques qualitatives et quantitatives

Comme nous l’avons annoncé, les deux corpus étudiés sont issus de deux groupes d’apprenant·e·s de deux niveaux différents. Le premier (corpus L) regroupe les interprétations enregistrées en 2019-2020 et 2023-2024 pendant des cours d’introduction à l’ID, de deux cursus distincts, en troisième année de licence. Les enregistrements du cursus en Communication interlinguistique appliquée (CIA) ont été collectés en 2020 et ont une durée de 1h22’06’’, alors que ceux du cursus en Communication interlinguistique appliquée aux professions juridiques (CIAPG), qui correspondent à l’année universitaire 2022-2023, ont une durée de 1h14’34’’. La durée totale des enregistrements est de 2h36’40’’.

Le second corpus (M) est constitué des interprétations effectuées en 2022-2023 et 2023-2024 par les étudiant·e·s en master 2 du cursus en Traduction spécialisée et interprétation de conférence et présente une durée totale de 4h09’24’’, respectivement de 2h00’41’’ et de 2h08’43’’^[6]. Les interactions simulées ont été transcrites au moyen du logiciel ELAN^[7].

Les cours d’ID en licence et en master sont construits sur des jeux de rôle simulant des interactions institutionnelles où les apprenant·e·s jouent le rôle de l’interprète et les enseignant·e·s celui d’expert·e·s ou de représentant·e·s d’institutions. Les thèmes abordés sont variés : le sous-corpus CIA est constitué de simulations d’interviews, dans le domaine du marché du café, et de visites médicales ; le sous-corpus CIAPG comprend des simulations d’interrogatoires de police, d’auditions au tribunal et d’interviews portant sur des sujets juridiques ; le corpus M présente des interviews liées à l’actualité politique, socioculturelle ou à des domaines spécifiques. Alors que les cours de master sont plutôt axés sur la formation professionnelle des étudiant·e·s, les cours de licence visent quant à eux davantage à faire découvrir la complexité de l’interaction avec interprète. À ce niveau d’apprentissage, il s’agit en effet avant tout de consolider les compétences linguistiques et traductives des apprenant·e·s, de l’italien vers le français et vice-versa. Pour ce faire, il est indispensable que les étudiant·e·s puissent développer des capacités d’écoute, d’analyse, de compréhension et de mémorisation, raison pour laquelle, contrairement à ce qui est prévu en master, ils/elles travaillent sans prise de notes. Avant de passer au jeu de rôle, quelques heures sont consacrées à la présentation des caractéristiques de l’interaction verbale avec interprète et au rôle de celui/celle-ci au sein du processus de communication en cours. L’attention est portée tout particulièrement sur la préparation du sujet qui fait l’objet de l’interaction simulée et sur le besoin de comprendre de façon approfondie ce qui est dit pour pouvoir le restituer précisément et clairement afin de participer activement à la co-construction de l’échange. Les étudiant·e·s sont ainsi encouragé·e·s à vérifier la pertinence de ce qu’ils/elles ont retenu et à demander éventuellement des informations supplémentaires avant de traduire. C’est dans ce cadre que nous les sensibilisons sur deux points fondamentaux : d’une part, sur la forme à donner à leurs requêtes et aux conséquences que peut avoir sur l’interaction et sur leur face positive une requête explicite du type « Pouvez-vous répéter s’il vous plaît ? » par rapport à d’autres actes de langage tels que la demande de confirmation ou la suggestion ; d’autre part, sur la nécessité de bien circonscrire leur requête en précisant quels sont les points ayant fait l’objet d’une incompréhension ou d’un oubli afin d’aider l’interlocuteur·rice à retrouver et reprendre plus facilement les informations manquantes.

Cette phase préparatoire permet aux étudiant·e·s d’aborder en connaissance de cause le jeu de rôle qui constitue la partie prépondérante du cours. Dans les formations en interprétation, la valeur didactique du jeu de rôle n’est plus à démontrer^[8]. Si son principal avantage est d’être au plus près de la situation réelle (Wadensjö 2014 ; Ozolins 2017), des études ont pu néanmoins mettre au jour deux inconvénients liés au fait que la situation simulée (framed activity) s’inscrit dans une situation didactique (framing activity). Dans ces conditions, les « acteur·rice·s », professeur·e·s et apprenant·e·s, se glissent dans des rôles institutionnels et professionnels (médecin/patient·e, expert·e·s, etc.) sans vraiment se départir de leurs rôles et identités de professeur·e·s et d’apprenant·e·s, d’où cette tendance à s’orienter le plus souvent vers la « framing activity » plutôt que vers la « framed activity » (Niemants et Stokoe 2017), l’apprenant·e se concentrant davantage sur la recherche du bon mot ou de la bonne forme grammaticale que sur le souci d’être compris, et le/la professeur·e produisant des signes visant à approuver les choix linguistiques de l’apprenant·e (Niemants 2013; Wadensjö 2014 : 446). Sur le plan de l'analyse, c'est dans le contexte de cet aller-retour entre interaction simulée et interaction simulante que nous allons analyser la requête de répétition.

4. De la requête de répétition : emplacement, formes et fonctions dans la co-construction de l’échange

Nous observerons à présent la place, les formes et les fonctions de la requête de répétition dans les deux corpus afin de dégager les différences entre les deux groupes d’étudiant·e·s.

Il émerge de notre analyse que cet acte métadiscursif, toujours produit par l’apprenant·e-interprète, apparaît dans trois lieux différents de la séquence interactionnelle de réparation, laquelle peut être initiée soit par l’apprenant·e-interprète, soit par l’un·e des locuteur·rices primaires. Ce processus se concrétise dans les trois schémas suivants :

Schéma 1

L’interprète écoute le tour de Lx et, avant de traduire, signale un problème de compréhension/mémorisation concernant ce qu’il/elle vient d’écouter en produisant une requête de répétition. L’interprète ouvre de cette manière la séquence de réparation.

Schéma 2

L’interprète écoute le tour de Lx et produit tout de suite sa traduction. Ly, qui reçoit la traduction signale un problème et pousse, de cette façon, l’interprète à adresser une requête de répétition à Lx, dont il/elle vient de traduire le tour de parole. La séquence de réparation est donc initiée par Ly, destinataire de la traduction, et génère, à son tour, une deuxième séquence de réparation initiée par l’interprète.

Schéma 3

L’interprète écoute le tour de Lx, commence à le traduire, en s’adressant à Ly, et s’interrompt pour revenir vers Lx en lui adressant une requête de répétition. L’interprète initie de cette façon la séquence de réparation.

Nous nous emploierons à présent à relever, dans ces trois schémas, les formes de la requête de répétition qui, comme nous allons le voir, peuvent être très variées.

4.1 Schéma 1

Dans l’exemple 1, extrait du corpus M, le tour de Int consacré à la traduction (24) est précédé d’une séquence de réparation auto-initiée par Int (21) et hétéro-réparée par L-it (22) :

Ex. 1

[LM_R_2_21-11-2023]

Après une série de régulateurs, Int formule une demande de confirmation (21) qui invite L-it à reprendre ce qu’elle avait dit avant. L-it reformule les contenus en introduisant des détails qu’elle n’avait pas évoqués au tour (18). La demande de confirmation de Int, très précise et ciblée, pourrait faire penser à une vraie demande de confirmation et non pas à une ruse utilisée pour amener L-it à répéter ce qu’elle avait dit, sans laisser paraître son incompréhension. Quoi qu’il en soit, L-it se sent autorisée à aller au-delà de la simple confirmation, qui aurait pu s’arrêter à la première partie de son tour (« [poco poco] atten[ta no poco] attenta (.) », [peu peu] atten[tive hein peu]), et reformule son dire, en le développant, comme s’il s’agissait d’un supplément de temps de parole à saisir. Très probablement, cela répond à des soucis didactiques de la part de L-it qui, par la reformulation de ses propos, aide l’apprenante-interprète à se remémorer les contenus qu’elle devra ensuite transmettre.

Nous trouvons le même schéma dans le corpus L, mais avec une déclaration explicite de la part de Int de son incompréhension (08).

Ex. 2

[CIA_R6B_2020]

L’incompréhension est très probablement provoquée ici par un effort de mémorisation des chiffres (date et pourcentage) qui empêche de retenir ce à quoi ils renvoient. Les chiffres sont ici des éléments d’ancrage que l’interprète répète partiellement (ouvrant de ce fait une séquence de réparation, cf. Kendrick 2015 : 171-172) et à partir desquels il formule sa requête afin de reconstituer le contexte discursif dans lequel ils s’inscrivent. Bien qu’incomplète, la requête de répétition s’avère être suffisamment ciblée pour permettre à L-fr de reformuler, elle aussi de façon ciblée, la partie requise.

4.2 Schéma 2

Dans l’exemple 3, Int traduit (11) synthétiquement ce que L-it vient d’énoncer. L-fr (12) identifie un problème de compréhension qu’il explicite par une question, initiant ainsi une séquence de réparation. Int réagit tout de suite et, dans la première partie de son tour (13), annonce erronément en italien à L-fr qu’elle va demander une confirmation à L-it et, sans aucune hésitation, enchaîne, cette fois correctement en italien, en ébauchant la demande de confirmation annoncée.

Ex. 3

[LM_R_1_24-01-2023]

En (13), Int ne complète sa requête ni sémantiquement ni syntaxiquement, mais les quelques mots qu’elle prononce suffisent pour que L-it comprenne à quoi elle se réfère. Le mot « percentuale » (pourcentage), que Int répète (Kendrick 2015 : 171-172), fonctionne comme un mot-clé qui déclenche la prompte réaction de L-it qui reprend ce qu’elle avait dit auparavant en le reformulant deux fois sous une nouvelle enveloppe syntaxique et en le signalant, la deuxième fois, par un marqueur de reformulation (cioè c’est-à-dire).

La reformulation est donc le résultat de la réaction collaborative de L-it qui permet de cette manière à Int d’auto-réparer le problème signalé par L-fr (12) en clôturant la séquence de réparation initiée par celui-ci.

D’un point de vue didactique, il est intéressant d’observer ce qui se produit en amont de la requête de répétition. La question formulée par Int (11) n’est pas claire sur le plan sémantique ce qui pousse L-fr à signaler le problème. Ce manque de clarté est très probablement dû à un manque de compréhension et/ou de mémorisation du tour de L-it (10). D’ailleurs, le silence intertours qui précède la formulation de la question en (11) peut être interprété comme un indice des difficultés de Int. Nous pouvons supposer que ce sont ces difficultés que Int tente de masquer en formulant la question au lieu de demander des précisions ou de formuler explicitement une requête de répétition.

Ce schéma est repérable également dans l’exemple 4, mais il s’articule différemment. Après 7 tours (11-17) consacrés à la résolution d’un autre problème de type lexical que nous ne montrons pas ici, Int propose en (18) la traduction de ce que L-fr avait dit au tour (10). L-it (19) réagit en contestant l’assertion selon laquelle le Brésil aurait renoncé à produire du café. Face à la requête d’explication formulée sous forme d’affirmation par L-it, l’interprète (20) s’adresse directement à L-fr en avouant d’emblée, en riant, qu’il n’a pas compris une partie de ce qu’elle avait dit avant (10).

Ex. 4

[CIA_R6B_2020]

Aux tours (20-21), les rires de Int et de L-fr se chevauchent, cette dernière comprenant que Int est en difficulté. La réaction de L-it (19) ouvre une séquence de réparation qui déclenche à son tour une réparation de l’interprète sur le tour de L-fr. Int se rend compte qu’il avait mal traduit ce que L-fr avait dit et renonce, en (20), à traduire le tour de L-it, préférant avouer à L-fr son incompréhension, ce qui pousse cette dernière à reformuler (séquence absente ici) ce qu’elle avait dit précédemment, comme dans l’exemple 3. La séquence de réparation initiée par Int vient à la suite d’une séquence de réparation ouverte par l’un·e des interlocuteur·rice·s primaires avec un effet de « cascading troubles » (Lerner et al. in Kendrick 2015 : 167).

Quant à l’aveu explicite de l’apprenant·e-interprète, nous verrons qu’il est récurrent dans le corpus L et presque absent dans le corpus M et qu’il est lié à des incertitudes d’ordre linguistique, ainsi qu’à un processus cognitif non consolidé.

4.3 Schéma 3

Dans le schéma 3, le tour consacré à la traduction est interrompu par une requête de répétition qui ouvre une séquence de réparation auto-initiée par Int. C’est ce qui se produit dans les exemples suivants.

Dans l’exemple 5, au tour (08), Int interrompt la traduction de la question posée par L-fr (07) à L-it, annonçant à cette dernière qu’elle va demander des précisions. Elle formule de suite sa requête de répétition explicite.

Ex. 5

[LM_R_10_23-01-2024]

La référence de Int à « votre: euh dernière question » s’apparente à un amalgame de « dernière partie » et « question » vu que L-fr n’a formulé qu’une question dans la dernière partie de son tour. Int semble donc avoir saisi l'enchaînement des idées et de leur emplacement. Dans la reprise de son dire de la part de L-fr (09), nous relevons une répétition presque à l’identique de la question précédée par une évaluation sur la nature de la demande d’information (« ma question est simple »). En pointant la simplicité de la question, L-fr vise très probablement à rassurer Int et à l’encourager.

Le même enchaînement est repérable également dans l’exemple 6 où après avoir commencé à traduire, Int s’interrompt là aussi et formule une requête de répétition (02) adressée à L-it.

Ex. 6

[CIAPG_R5d_18-01-2023]

Au tour (02), Int cherche en vain à récupérer les considérations exprimées par L-it sous la forme d’assertions qui visent en fait à provoquer une réaction de la part de L-fr, puisqu’elles se chargent dans la séquence d’une valeur illocutoire de question. À travers la formulation de « la question est: est évidente », Int montre qu’elle est consciente de l’acte de langage indirect produit par L-it qui est, de cette manière, obligée de reformuler son dire sous forme de question (« perché (.) non hanno mh: pensato di di mettere proprio due righe nero su bianco » pourquoi (.) ils n’ont pas mh pensé à à mettre pas du tout deux lignes noir sur blanc).

Très clairement, ces exemples montrent que la requête de répétition n’a qu’une fonction : résoudre un problème qui se produit à un moment donné et risque d’entraver le déroulement de l’échange. Nous relevons cependant des différences que nous allons à présent nous employer à décrire.

5. Quelques considérations sur les résultats

D’une façon générale, l’analyse des deux corpus montre que la requête de répétition en situation didactique est une ressource essentielle pour faire avancer la conversation, indépendamment du niveau des apprenant·e·s. Quels qu’en soient les emplacements et les formes, elle vise à solliciter l’information manquante, déclenchant des phénomènes de reformulation ou de répétition qui, eux, assurent la cohésion et la cohérence de l’échange. De ce point de vue, la requête de répétition, toujours produite par l’apprenant·e-interprète, est un levier qui permet d’aborder un problème qui surgit dans l’échange. Dans les schémas 1 et 3, la requête de répétition coïncide avec l’ouverture d’une séquence de réparation alors que dans le schéma 2, elle est la conséquence d’une séquence de réparation initiée par le/la locuteur·rice primaire destinataire de la traduction proposée par l’apprenant·e-interprète.

Les trois schémas sont présents dans les deux corpus de licence et de master, dans des proportions différentes, comme l’est d’ailleurs la présence de la requête de répétition. De fait, aux 15 occurrences, tous types confondus, relevées dans le corpus L, soit 9,61%, correspondent 11 occurrences dans le corpus M, soit 4,41%, ce qui montre une incidence du phénomène deux fois plus élevée dans le premier corpus que dans le second. Cela signifie que les étudiant·e·s avancé·e·s maîtrisent mieux les processus cognitifs à l'œuvre puisqu’un recours limité à la requête de répétition indique une bonne capacité d’écoute, d’analyse et de mémorisation en vue de la traduction, dans la langue requise, de ce qui a été dit. Ces résultats semblent donc confirmer notre hypothèse de départ selon laquelle une meilleure maîtrise de la langue et des dynamiques interactionnelles limiterait le recours à la requête de répétition.

Quant aux trois schémas montrant l’emplacement de la requête de répétition, le tableau suivant en relève la distribution dans les deux corpus :

Tableau 1 – cas relevés pour chacun des schémas.

Le schéma 1, qui, rappelons-le, prévoit l’ouverture de la part de Int d’une séquence latérale (Jefferson 1972) visant à obtenir des précisions sur ce que l’interlocuteur·rice vient de dire avant de passer à la traduction, apparaît prioritairement dans le corpus M (9 occurrences) alors qu’il est minoritaire dans le corpus L (CIA 2 occurrences et CIAPG 0) où, en revanche, c’est le schéma 3 – Int commence à traduire et s’interrompt pour formuler sa requête de répétition – qui se taille la part du lion avec 12 occurrences (CIA 8, CIAPG 4). Le deuxième schéma, où Ly destinataire de la traduction formulée par Int signale un problème et, de ce fait, ouvre une séquence de réparation à laquelle Int réagit en s’adressant de nouveau à Lx et en produisant une requête de répétition, n'apparaît qu’une fois dans les deux corpus M et L. Il est intéressant de constater que dans ce schéma, la requête de répétition ouvre à son tour une séquence de réparation enchâssée (Int-Lx) à l’intérieur de la séquence de réparation initiée par Ly, entraînant un effet de réparations en cascade (Lerner et al. in Kendrick 2015 : 167).

La présence prioritaire du schéma 1 chez les étudiant·e·s de master confirme ce que nous avons relevé au niveau général, à savoir qu’il y a de la part de ces apprenant·e·s une certaine maîtrise des processus interactionnels et cognitifs : en formulant leur requête de répétition avant de commencer à traduire, ils/elles montrent qu’ils/elles sont conscient·e·s des points qui leur posent problème. Cela signifie qu’ils/elles sont à même d’écouter attentivement et d’analyser le tour de l’interlocuteur·rice, ce qui facilite la mémorisation des contenus et de leur enchaînement. À l’inverse, la prédominance du schéma 3 chez les étudiant·e·s de licence montre une attention plus focalisée sur le niveau traductif que sur l’appropriation de ce qui a été dit. La prise de conscience de la part de l’étudiant·e de ce qui n’est pas clair, ou de ce qu’il/elle a oublié, n’intervient que chemin faisant, quand il/elle essaie de transmettre ce qu’il/elle a écouté. Il y a donc un rapport inversement proportionnel entre le schéma 1 et le schéma 3 dans les deux corpus. Le peu d’occurrences du schéma 2 dans les deux corpus nous permet malgré tout de formuler quelques considérations. Les deux cas relevés montrent que la traduction de Int est confuse, voire obscure, ce que Ly signale immédiatement. Nous formulons l’hypothèse que Int n’a pas compris ce qui a été dit par Lx et que ce schéma reflète l’attitude d’un·e apprenant·e-interprète qui, conscient·e ou pas de ne pas avoir compris, semble se concentrer davantage sur les mots et la forme que sur le sens et propose sa traduction en se fiant à la capacité de compréhension de Ly, en tant que professeur·e mais aussi en tant qu’« expert·e » dans le jeu de rôle.

Pour ce qui est des formes que prend la requête de répétition, nous n’avons relevé aucun cas de forme directe à l’impératif, ce qui n’est pas surprenant étant donné le caractère des interactions analysées qui reproduisent des échanges verbaux où la politesse joue un rôle fondamental et où toute forme directe serait considérée comme déplacée, voire impolie. Ce sont donc les formes indirectes conventionnelles qui sont le mieux représentées puisqu’elles figurent parmi les procédés substitutifs visant à atténuer tout acte menaçant pour les faces des interactant·e·s (Kerbrat-Orecchioni 1992, 2005). Bien que nous n’ayons pas comptabilisé toutes les formes de la requête de répétition, nous observons que, dans bien des cas, celle-ci se transforme en un acte de langage autre, le plus souvent en une demande de confirmation qui s’apparente alors à une stratégie permettant à Int de cacher son incertitude, voire son incompréhension, et de protéger sa face. Cela n’est pas surprenant non plus vu le cadre situationnel (simulé et didactique) dans lequel s’inscrivent les interactions analysées. Il n’est pas surprenant non plus que l’intervention de Int dans les trois schémas s’accompagne presque toujours d’une justification ou d’excuses visant à atténuer la valeur menaçante de la requête. Ce qui est intéressant, c’est la configuration de ces procédés accompagnateurs chez les étudiant·e·s de licence et chez celles et ceux de master. Les premier·e·s se laissent aller à l’explicitation de leur incompréhension en thématisant les problèmes d’attention et de mémorisation qui ont entravé leur écoute. Les rires qui fréquemment enveloppent cet aveu volontaire indiquent clairement une orientation vers l’interaction didactique (framing activity) plutôt que vers la situation interactionnelle simulée (framed activity). Les apprenant·e·s de master en revanche masquent leurs difficultés en formulant de façon naturelle et fluide leur requête/demande de confirmation. Autrement dit, si les justifications et les excuses chez les étudiant·e·s de licence ont pour but d’expliquer leur défaillance, chez les plus avancé·e·s, c’est le souci de ne pas trop menacer la face de l'interlocuteur·rice primaire, et leur propre face positive, qui l’emporte, ce qui prouve encore une fois, à nos yeux, la maîtrise des dynamiques interactionnelles dans ce dernier groupe.

D’une façon générale nous pouvons relever que l’explicitation du verbe ‘répéter’ n’est pas très récurrente, ce qui nous fait dire que les étudiant·e·s de licence tout comme les avancé·e·s ont plutôt bien assimilé les instructions des enseignant·e·s qui leur prescrivent d’éviter le plus possible la formule “Pouvez-vous répéter, s’il vous plaît?” afin de protéger leur face positive et les faces des interlocuteur·rice·s primaires. Les occurrences du verbe ‘répéter’ sont distribuées de la manière suivante: 8 dans le corpus L (4 CIA + 4 CIAPG) et 3 dans le corpus M. Si, pour le premier, nous relevons 1 occurrence pour le schéma 1 et 3 occurrences pour le schéma 3 dans le sous-corpus CIA, et 4 occurrences pour le schéma 3 dans le sous-corpus CIAPG, nous trouvons dans le second, 2 occurrences liées au schéma 1 et 1 occurrence au schéma 3. Ces données nous montrent que le recours au verbe ‘répéter’ est transversal et que ce sont encore une fois les apprenant·e·s les plus avancé·e·s qui maîtrisent le mieux les stratégies de politesse. Parfois, cette requête explicite s’accompagne d’une “localisation” de la partie du discours qui fait l’objet de la requête, comme par exemple “pouvez euh: répéter votre: euh dernière question” (exemple 5).

Nous signalerons enfin un cas assez unique relevé dans le sous-corpus CIA où Int formule sa requête de répétition juste après la fin du tour de l'interlocuteur primaire, ce qui nous amène à dire que rien n’avait été vraiment écouté.

Même si nous n’approfondissons pas les types de reprise déclenchés par la requête, nous pouvons cependant signaler très brièvement qu’ils s’apparentent pour la plupart, sauf dans un cas, à des auto-reformulations (hétéro-initiées) allant dans le sens d’un “parler plus clair” dont la fonction est d’aider l’apprenant·e-interprète à mieux saisir des informations non ou partiellement comprises, le/la locuteur·rice primaire n’hésitant pas à recourir à des marqueurs de reformulation (« intendo dire », « cioè », « je veux dire », « c’est-à-dire ») qui ponctuent l’enchaînement des idées exprimées. Souvent, ces reformulations donnent lieu à des extensions qui contribuent ultérieurement à préciser certaines informations et qui, en même temps, peuvent entraîner un surplus de difficultés pour les apprenants·e·s. Le seul cas de reprise presqu’à l’identique concerne une question qui, de par sa nature, ne peut entraîner que la reprise de celle-ci, sans extension possible. Dans ce cas précis, la reprise presque à l’identique de la question se pare d’un commentaire évaluatif (“ma question est simple”, exemple 5), dont la fonction, d’un point de vue didactico-pédagogique, pourrait être de rassurer et d’encourager l’apprenant·e-interprète.

5. Pour conclure

Cette étude confirme que la requête de répétition est toujours liée à une séquence de réparation, mais qu’elle ne coïncide pas forcément avec son ouverture. Cet acte métadiscursif, qui permet de faire face à un problème surgissant dans l’interaction et qui contribue de cette manière à faire avancer l’échange, peut soit déclencher une séquence de réparation (schéma 1 et 3), soit découler d’une séquence de réparation (schéma 2) dans laquelle il s’inscrit en ouvrant à son tour une nouvelle séquence enchâssée.

Dans tous les cas, la requête de répétition fonctionne comme un signal de détresse, un SOS lancé par les apprenant·e·s-interprètes révélateur de leur niveau et de leurs difficultés qui se cristallisent dans la forme elle-même de cette requête. Une analyse systématique des formes de la requête de répétition serait sans aucun doute souhaitable ainsi que l’établissement d’une distinction supplémentaire, à l’intérieur du vaste groupe des formes indirectes conventionnelles, entre forme explicite avec le verbe « répéter », et forme implicite. Cela permettrait de mieux appréhender ce que les étudiant·e·s ont ou n’ont pas encore assimilé au niveau interactionnel surtout et d’approfondir ultérieurement la valeur didactique de cet acte métadiscursif.

About the author(s)

Caterina Falbo is full professor of French language in the Department of Legal Studies, Language, Interpreting and Translation (IUSLIT) at the University of Trieste (Italy). She teaches conference and dialogue interpreting between French and Italian. Her research interests focus mainly on the analysis of interpreter-mediated interactions in the legal, healthcare and media settings as well as on the teaching of dialogue and conference interpretation. Among the research projects she participated in, it is worth remembering Avidicus III, TransLaw – Exploring Legal Interpreting Service Paths and Transcultural Law Clinics for persons suspected or accused of crime et TRAMIG – Training newly arrived migrants for community interpreting and intercultural mediation.

Pascale Janot is associate professor in the Department of Legal Studies, Language, Interpreting and Translation (IUSLIT) at the University of Trieste (Italy). She teaches an introductory course on dialogue interpreting, analysing interactions with interpreters in educational settings. Her research also focuses on discourse analysis, specifically the analysis of scientific and economic discourse aimed at a general audience. In this context, she analyses reformulation (metalinguistic escort) around terminology. Through this, she is also interested in the analysis of literary discourse (crime novels) in the French and Italian fields, and their translations. She is also a translator and editor of poetry.

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Abstract

The literature suggests that interpreter involvement is necessary in mental health care. The aim of this qualitative study is therefore to contribute to the definition of the notion of interpreter involvement and to determine whether it leads to specific discursive behaviour in the pragmatic dimension of renditions, that is, the processing of thoughts, emotions and the relational aspects of communication. To this end, seven semi-structured interviews were subjected to content analysis and three excerpts from Russian-French psychotherapeutic consultations were subjected to discourse analysis. The results provide a definition of the interpreter’s cognitive, emotional and relational involvement and show that it is considered necessary for the effectiveness of therapy by the therapists, patients and interpreters interviewed. They also show that, driven by their cooperative pretexts, interpreters produce collaborative renditions through micro-adaptations of a pragmatic nature. Finally, the results suggest that interpreters engage in cooperative meta-coordination of interaction.

Keywords: dialogue interpreting, mental health interpreting, interpreter involvement, cooperation-oriented pretext, collaborative renditions, cooperative meta-coordination of interaction, pragmatics, Relevance Theory, Politeness Theory, Positioning Theory

1. Introduction

Mental health (hereafter, MH) is a field characterised by the importance attached to the discourse, material on which care is based. Discursive nuances, and particularly the way in which thoughts, relationships and emotions are expressed (Elghezouani 2010), are therefore crucial in MH interpreting. These elements are part of the pragmatic dimension of discourse, that is, they relate to the use of language in action: they depend on the speaker, the interlocutor, their cognitive environments, the linguistic co-text, the extra-linguistic situation and the willingness of the participants to co-construct mutual understanding and relationships that support the communicative act (Zufferey and Moeschler 2012).

Furthermore, the involvement of interpreters has emerged in the academic literature as necessary for effective care in MH (Hunt and Swartz 2017; Miller et al. 2005; Raval and Maltby 2005). In dialogue interpreting (hereafter, DI), interpreter involvement has long been observed in non-renditions (Baraldi and Gavioli 2012; Niemants 2017; Wadensjö 1998): interpreters engage in dyadic asides with primary speakers (hereafter, PSs) and ask clarifying questions, make metalinguistic comments, or try to obtain relevant information for the service provider. Less is known about involvement displayed in renditions.

Against this backdrop, the purpose of this study is to contribute to defining the notion of involvement for MH interpreters and to determine, when there is involvement, whether they exhibit a particular discursive behaviour in their renditions, specifically in terms of managing thoughts, relationships and emotions, that is, the pragmatic dimension of discourse. Thoughts, relationships and emotions are part of the cognitive, relational and emotional aspects of interaction respectively.

The research questions are therefore the following. In MH settings, (1) are interpreters cognitively, relationally and emotionally involved? If so, (2) how can these types of involvement be defined? (3) What are the effects of their involvement on the interactants and the therapeutic process? (4) Does their involvement trigger a particular discursive behaviour in their renditions at the pragmatic level of communication (thoughts, emotions and relationships), and if so, how?

To provide some answers to these questions, different analytical methods will be applied to the data from seven semi-structured interviews and three interpreter-mediated Russian-French psychotherapeutic consultations. Section 2 will outline the data, methods of analysis and conceptual framework. Sections 3 and 4 will present the analyses, and Section 5 will discuss the results.

The research perspective is strictly descriptive: the interpreters’ actions will only be discussed from a discursive and communicative point of view, without any judgement on what is ethically, qualitatively and psychotherapeutically acceptable.

2. Data, methods of analysis and conceptual framework

The authentic data of this study were extracted from a larger corpus aimed at exploring various aspects of the MH interpreters’ role. They were audio-recorded in French-speaking Belgium between 2012 and 2014 with the consent of all participants (Delizée 2018). All names are fictitious.

2.1 Profile of participants

This study involves three constellations of participants, each composed of a French-speaking therapist, a Russian-speaking patient and a Russian-French interpreter. Their profiles are described in Table 1 below. The participants were interviewed (cf. 2.2) and each constellation was then recorded during a consultation (cf. 2.3).

Table 1. Profile of participants

2.2 Interviews

In order to obtain some answers to the first three research questions, the author conducted semi-structured individual interviews in French or Russian with seven of the nine participants^[2]. The verbal prompts used were ‘How do you see the work of interpreters in MH?’, ‘How do you define MH interpreting?’, and ‘Is there anything going on relationally between you and [each of the other two participants]?’. The interviews were transcribed then subjected to a continuous thematic content analysis (Paillé and Mucchielli 2013) by the author. Themes were first extracted vertically (from each interview) and then compared transversally (within and between thematic categories). Themes were identified in an uninterrupted process as they emerged from the data and confronted to progressively build four thematic categories (cf. 3.). The excerpts presented in this study were translated into English by the author and a native English speaker.

2.3 Consultations

In order to possibly find answers to the fourth research question, an excerpt from each of the three consultations was discursively analysed. The transcription conventions are given in the appendix.

In order to get insights into the interpreter’s processing of thoughts and emotions, Sperber and Wilson’s Relevance Theory (1986, hereafter RT) was applied to the first two excerpts. RT has already been shown to shed light on the negotiation of meaning in DI (Mason 2006). The RT model of ostensive-inferential communication is based on the principle of relevance that guides both the speakers and the addressees^[3]. The speakers, driven by an informative intention (to bring the addressees to a given piece of information) and a communicative intention (to make the addressees aware of the informative intention), produce ostensive cues to have the addressees recognise their intentions. Guided by the principle of relevance, addressees implement inferential processes to recover the speakers’ intentions, that is, what is being said and what is being meant, as they perceive them. The addressees build a set of contextual assumptions (inferences) about what the utterance communicates, and select the assumption that produces the most cognitive effects while requiring the least processing effort, that is, the most relevant inference. When two people communicate, the mutual manifestness of certain facts is not based on their prior mutual knowledge, but is constructed in an inferential way during the interaction. To formulate an utterance, the speaker makes assumptions about the characteristics of the addressee’s cognitive environment^[4], and to process this utterance, the latter makes assumptions about the speaker’s intended meaning. When during the interaction, hypotheses become mutually manifest – a shared cognitive environment is created between them.

As the analysis of the interviews showed that the interpreters endeavour to co-create supportive relationships within the triad (cf. 3.), Kerbrat-Orecchioni’s (2011) concept of Face-Flattering Act (FFA), which is an enrichment of Brown and Levinson’s Politeness Theory (1978, hereafter PT), was applied to the third excerpt. The relevance of using Kerbrat-Orecchioni’s apparatus to highlight the way speech can enhance relations has already been shown in DI (Falbo 2021; Merlini 2017). According to PT, every speaker has a positive face (positive social value) and a negative face (freedom of action). Kerbrat-Orecchioni points out that during an interaction, face-work is carried out to give value to faces in cooperative situations: the speaker produces FFAs, such as congratulations, humour or encouragement, all being signs of interest in the other person.

None of the excerpts from the three consultations showed traces of both the processing of thoughts and emotions and the construction of the relationship, so RT and the FFA concept were applied to different excerpts.

2.4 Conceptual framework

The results of the analysis of these two data sets were conceptualised in terms of position, the key concept of Positioning Theory (Harré and van Langhenove 1999). It has already been shown that this theory is productive in DI as it provides a detailed explanation of the interactional play by allowing the analysis to focus on what is happening at the relational level (Mason 2009; Merlini 2009). Adapted to DI, the concept of position can be defined as follows (Delizée 2021): a position is a discursive projection of personal attributes that reflects the way in which one of the interactants, including the interpreter, considers what is said and, through what is said, envisages his or her relationship with the other interactants. Since positions arise in the hic et nunc of interaction, they are not labelled a priori, which gives the possibility of describing discursive projections without being limited to a predefined typology.

3. Analysis of interviews

The aim of analysing the seven semi-structured interviews of the two therapists, the two patients and the three interpreters is to provide some answers to the first three research questions.

The analysis shows that the cognitive, relational and emotional involvement of interpreters is considered necessary for therapy by all three categories of respondents. The four thematic categories detailed below emerged from the analysis.

3.1. The interpreters’ pretexts

Specifically for MH settings, the three interpreters express their willingness to help create a climate of trust and to assist patients and therapists in transmitting their communicative intentions. This individual conception of the role of MH interpreters reflects their motivations before engaging in the interaction, their purposes, what they are processing the language for: this is what Ian Mason (2006b: 363) defines as the interpreter’s pretext.

I believe that empathy is necessary for therapy to work better. Because when the patients feel our empathy – it’s often through gaze and non-verbal communication – they feel ‘Here, I can open up. Here I can trust’. [...] Our role is to create a climate of trust. [...] Because that’s our aim: to get the PSs to understand each other without tension. (Irina 9:34, 19:45 and 38:54)

When the patient doesn’t trust you, you won’t be able to do a really good job for the psychiatrist or psychologist. It will not work. The therapist won’t be able to perceive many things, because I won’t be able to convey what the patient is feeling. It’s thanks to trust that the patient opens their heart more [...] If I’ve been able to calm the patient down, if I’ve been able to make the doctor understand what they need, it’s as if I got what they wanted. (Inna 2:28 and 40:42)

According to the three interpreters, their cognitive, relational and emotional involvement is necessary in order to achieve their own communicative goal, which is to promote mutual understanding, co-construct harmonious relationships and co-create a climate of trust. From their point of view, their involvement has the effects of supporting the patient’s self-expression and the therapist’s work.

3.2 Therapist-interpreter: relational and cognitive involvement

The two therapists and the three interpreters describe a collaborative relationship based on trust, which is built up gradually.

Between the two of us, it’s a collaboration. (Theodore 23:00)

With all the therapists, we always work together. It’s a relationship of trust that has developed over time (Inna 50:03)

Mutual trust is built up in particular during moments of co-reflection before and after the consultation: the therapists explain their approaches and the interpreters share their opinions and feelings. This inter-professional adjustment is beneficial to the therapy and allows the interpreters to prepare emotionally.

We exchanged our ideas, so we were on an equal footing. (Théodore 21:30)

We can talk before the consultation, before meeting the patient again, about what we can do, what the patient can do, and I’m already preparing myself emotionally. [...] And after the consultation, we can discuss how it went, the patient’s reaction, and the psychologist can tell me, for example, ‘For the next consultation, we can do this, this and this. We can change our method, or we can continue’. In a way, we’re working together on this person’s recovery. (Ida 19:30 and 20:25)

In MH, it’s not like interpreting in other settings. Therapists and patients feel how the interpreter is involved. I’ve already had therapists say to me: ‘I’d rather work with you. With someone else, things don’t work, [...] the interpreter is too distant. You come into the discussion, we work together, there’s empathy.’ So I think you have to get involved in MH therapy. (Irina 8:05)

This inter-professional collaboration also facilitates mutual understanding.

Sometimes, just by looking at each other, we communicate, and we get something going. There’s complicity between the two of us. (Irina 12:31)

According to the five respondents, relational involvement between interpreters and therapists means that they co-build mutual trust, particularly through de/briefings. Cognitive involvement of interpreters means that therapists discuss their communicative goals and therapeutic approaches with them and that interpreters share their points of view.

When interpreters build a relationship of trust and mutual understanding with therapists and engage in co-reflection with them, they are in a position that we will call ‘Therapist’s Collaborator’.

3.3 Patient-interpreter: relational and emotional involvement

The two patients describe their communicative need: to express their innermost feelings. They feel that trust in the interpreter is essential if they are to speak freely.

When I arrived here, I felt very bad, and I had to pour out my soul. [...] It’s very difficult for me to open my heart if I don’t trust the interpreter. (Praskovia 46:00 and 49:35)

The most important thing for me is that you can trust the interpreter, so that you don’t hide anything. (Polina 0:20)

According to the two patients, trust is built mainly through the interpreters’ non-verbal and paraverbal signals of understanding, that is, through their active listening.

I trusted her, because I felt the way she considered me, I felt that she listened to me attentively. [...] She understands me because… I don’t know how to explain it to you. You have to feel it. It’s even just one smile. With just one smile she reassures me, as if she was saying ‘everything is going to be OK’. [...] She always says ‘hmm hmm’, as if she understands me. (Polina 1:17, 13:32 and 50:30)

According to the two therapists, it is essential for therapy that interpreters perceive and convey emotions, and that their behaviour is in tune with these emotions.

If there is no benevolence, it doesn’t work. If the interpreter remains cold, if the emotion doesn’t come through, it doesn’t work. [...] I think that the emotion of the language comes through her and that she has to convey it to me. (Théodore 28:13 and 15:40)

To be emotionally involved, to be appropriate, to stay in the emotional tone of the session, that’s a form of involvement in the interpreter. [...] It’s impossible to be emotionally neutral in MH: it would be strange if the interpreter was cold and indifferent, and that would probably create a form of withdrawal in the patient if there wasn’t a minimum of involvement. (Timothée 26:02 and 26:13)

According to the two patients and the two therapists, the relational and emotional involvement of the interpreters means a benevolent openness to other participants and an adaptation to their emotions. Active listening is the manifestation of their involvement. This builds trust and encourages patients to express themselves.

When interpreters co-construct a relationship of trust through active listening, that is, by displaying non-verbal and paraverbal signals of understanding and non-judgement, by perceiving and conveying emotions and by adapting their (non-)verbal behaviour to the emotional atmosphere of the consultation, they are in a position that we will call ‘Relational Mediator’.

3.4 Accuracy of renditions: relational, emotional and cognitive involvement

The three interpreters express the need to be involved in order to provide accurate renditions. Their conception of accurate interpreting in MH is to convey not only the propositional meaning but also the pragmatic dimension of the discourse, that is, the thoughts, emotions and feelings, as they perceive them. In order to achieve this goal, they stress the need for active listening, that is, their relational and emotional involvement: they try to perceive all the elements of what is being communicated by the PSs.

I try to be completely involved in the conversation. I try to be present all the time. Not to be indifferent. Because that’s what can cause patients to lose trust. So I try to be present with the psychologists, to fully understand what they want to do. And I try to be attentive to the patients, to look them directly in the eyes, to try to understand everything they want to express. (Ida 40:09)

In other settings, you pass on the message and that’s it. It’s very technical [...] It’s like an automatic pilot: you’ve almost got ready-made phrases and you come out with them when you need to. But in MH, it’s really different: you listen differently, you look differently, you try to notice non-verbal cues. [...] Listening is different because I pay very, very close attention to little words that don’t provide linguistic information but do provide emotional information. Little words like ‘phew, ouch, pfft’. I also interpret emotions. (Irina 4:41, 5:55 and 12:55)

In order to accurately convey the therapists’ communicative intentions, the three interpreters expressed the need to be aware of their therapeutic approaches, that is, to be cognitively involved.

It’s important that I know their methods so that I can adapt to them. When you first meet therapists, you don’t know how they work. You remain distant, you simply translate, but as time goes by, you understand their method and you adapt. After that, it’s much easier. (Irina 10:25)

Sometimes they warn me that they’re going to be quite provocative, for example, so that I’m not surprised. And I need to understand that in order to convey the message as accurately as possible. If the psychologists work together with the interpreter, if at the beginning they explain at least broadly their approach and methods, their work will be much more effective. Because the renditions will be more accurate. (Ida 18:22)

According to the three respondents, the interpreters’ cognitive involvement means that they try to perceive the communicative intentions of the PSs, beyond the literal meaning of their words. It is crucial for them to know the therapists’ methods so as not to distort them through ignorance of their objective. Their cognitive involvement is intricately linked to their relational and emotional involvement, which means that all senses are alert to perceive the discourse and behavioural markers of relationship and emotion.

When interpreters convey not only what is said (propositional meaning), but also what is meant (pragmatic meaning, as perceived by them) through cognitive, relational and emotional involvement, they are in a position that we will call ‘Conveyor of meaning’.

4. Analysis of consultations

The aim of analysing an excerpt from each of the three consultations is to provide some answers to the fourth research question.

4.1 Excerpt 1 (EnTh6 03:43 - 05:13)

At the beginning of the session, Timothée asks Piotr if he has any new information on his administrative situation. Piotr responds negatively. Timothée continues the sequence.

The analysis of the excerpt from the perspective of RT, which sheds light on the processing of what is meant (thoughts and emotions), shows the following.

In Timothée’s turns (1) and (5), four inaccuracies can be observed:

1. he mentions a request for a document so that Piotr can continue to receive social assistance, but he does not specify the document. What is the content of the document requested?
2. he asserts that the document was requested by the lawyer, then by the subject ‘they’, which has no antecedent. Who is ‘they’?
3. the facts ‘document request’ and ‘extension of social assistance’ seem to be linked by a causal relationship, which is not made explicit by Timothée. What is the relationship between them?
4. he asserts that ‘something has been done’ but does not specify what. What has been done after the request?

These inaccuracies make it difficult to guide the addressee’s (here, the analyst’s) inferential process of recognising Timothée’s global discourse intention (hereafter, GDI). Is it to find out if Piotr knows about the current administrative procedure? Or is it to explain the lawyer’s request by focusing attention on the unfolding of this request (who asked whom for what)?

The fact ‘document’ seems to be manifest to Inna because she asks for clarification, not about the document, but about

• who made the request, in (2);
• what did Timothée do with the document, in (6).

In (8), Inna produces her rendition:

1. she verbalises her inferences as to the document requested (in bold in the transcript). She expresses three different propositional contents, which is evidence of a repair phenomenon (Schegloff, Jefferson and Sacks 1977): it is not so much a document on Piotr’s condition, nor a document attesting that he is going to the doctor, as a document certifying that he is still going to the doctor. This sequence of repair shows that Inna tries not only to specify the fact ‘document’, but also to make the relationship between the document and the social assistance explicit: social assistance can only be extended if the patient continues therapy.
2. the double request (by the lawyer and by an indeterminate ‘they’) has disappeared.
3. the relationship between the document and the extension of social assistance is reinforced by the verbalised inference ‘a proof that you are still going to the doctor is needed’.
4. the aim of the lawyer’s request is specified twice: the lawyer contacted the therapist to ask for new documents to be sent, and the therapist sent it. By repeating the verb ‘sent’, Inna makes it manifest that her attentional focus is not on the unfolding of the request (as it is maybe the case in Timothée’s original) but on its aim.

In Timothée’s turn, the inaccuracies make it difficult to determine his GDI. Inna’s rendition reflects her inferential processing of Timothée’s utterances and of the relationships between them. Her verbalised inferences first specify the fact ‘document’, then make explicit and strengthen the intentional relationship between the request and the aim of the request. Her actions reinforce intradiscursive coherence, which makes Timothée’s GDI, as she perceived it, more manifest: ‘the proof of the continuation of the therapeutic follow-up has been sent to extend social assistance’. Piotr’s reaction, in which he simply thanks Timothée, indicates that the rendition has made this GDI manifest to him.

The interpreter’s verbalised inferences are the tangible traces of her cognitive involvement: she tries to perceive the therapist’s intended meaning. Through micro-adaptations of a pragmatic nature, she exhibits her own understanding of the original. These discursive actions make the therapist’s GDI, as she perceived it, more manifest to the patient, and thereby reduce his cognitive efforts to process the rendition.

Her cognitive involvement reflects her cooperation-oriented pretext (cf. also 3.1):

[If I’ve been able to make them understand each other], it’s an inner satisfaction (Inna 40:45).

Positioned as a ‘Conveyor of meaning’, the interpreter endeavours to identify the speaker’s thoughts and, by co-creating a mutually manifest cognitive environment, facilitates understanding between the PSs.

4.2 Excerpt 2 (EnTh5 39:24 - 40:36)

Praskovia lives in a refugee centre, alone with her four young children. She says she feels extremely tired. She is in the grip of emotions, as evidenced by her sobs and sighs throughout the excerpt. Tiffany asks her if she can rest during the day, when the children are not with her.

The analysis of the excerpt from the perspective of RT, which sheds light on the processing of what is meant (thoughts and emotions), shows the following.

In (1), Praskovia juxtaposes information without any explicit link between them: she names three obligations ‘tidying up, homework, need to go to town’ and repeats the idea ‘only sometimes I have free time’ twice. The two occurrences of the adverb ‘sometimes’, which indicates the occasional nature of the action, are associated with the focuser ‘only’. The second occurrence is produced with an increase in voice volume ‘sometimes’. The focuser and prosodic highlighting are ostensive clues allowing to plausibly infer that Praskovia’s GDI is ‘I have little free time’.

In (2), Ida produces her rendition. The two women’s turns can be paraphrased and compared as follows:

In her rendition,

• Ida introduces explicit logical connectors, which is the result of an inferential process.
• She conveys the need to go to town by the abductive inference ‘she has appointments’: it consists in starting from a specific concrete situation and formulating an explanatory hypothesis. If Praskovia only sometimes has free time and expresses the need to go to the city, it is most probably not for her own pleasure, but because she has obligations there.
• She produces the adverb ‘sometimes’ twice, as Praskovia, but both occurrences carry a prosodic emphasis, as compared to only one in the original.

Ida’s verbalised inferences have the effects of specifying what she perceives as the logical sequence of information, and of focusing on the issue of obligations (appointments) rather than on place (town). Moreover, the repetition of the prosodic ostensive clue reinforces the occasional nature of the action ‘having free time’. In other words, her pragmatic micro-adaptations make Praskovia’s GDI ‘I have very little free time’ more manifest, which reduces the recipient’s cognitive efforts to process the rendition. Indeed, in (3), Tiffany asks Praskovia if she feels she has no time to rest or think: her question indicates that she inferred from the rendition that her patient feels she is constantly busy.

The interpreter’s rendition is the tangible trace of her cognitive and emotional involvement, which reflects her cooperation-oriented pretext (see also 3.1):

I can be a 100% listener, I can understand, I am attuned to what the patient is saying, and I transmit the patient’s message and emotions to the psychologist in the same way. (Ida 17:09)

Positioned as a ‘Conveyor of meaning’, the interpreter endeavours to perceive the patient’s emotions and thoughts, and conveys them to the therapist by making them more manifest through verbalised inferences and prosodic ostensive cues.

4.3 Excerpt 3 (EnTh4 24:03 - 24:10)

At the beginning of the therapy, Polina’s body was covered with eczema. Her condition has since improved, and Théodore would like her to come to realise this by having her look at her hands, which bear almost no traces anymore.

The analysis of the excerpt from the perspective of the FFAs, which shed light on the construction of supportive relationships, shows the following.

In (4) and (6), Polina jokes when referring to Théodore in the third person: she is addressing Irina. A joke is an FFA: Polina is building a Patient-Interpreter teammate relationship. In (6), Irina laughs, which is the second part of the joke/laughter pair (Schegloff and Sacks 1973): she takes part in this privileged relationship. In (7), she renders the FFA by pointing to Théodore in the second person, as if Polina had addressed it directly to him, and her laughter can be perceived as a call to him to join the shared closeness. In other words, Polina initiates an empathic Patient-Interpreter relationship that Irina redirects towards Theodore: she co-creates a close Therapist-Patient relationship by transmitting the FFA as if Polina had directly addressed it to Théodore.

The same pattern repeats in (8-9), this time at Théodore’s initiative. In (8), he refers to Polina in the third person: he is addressing Irina as a direct interlocutor and invites her to see for herself that the eczema has disappeared. By seeking her agreement or point of view, that is, by producing a FFA, he is building a cooperative Therapist-Interpreter relationship. In (9), Irina renders the propositional content of Théodore’s statement by pointing to Polina in the second person, as if he had directly addressed her. The rendition is the observation that Polina’s state of health has improved, it is a way of encouraging her, and an expression of support is a FFA. In other words, Théodore initiates a supportive Therapist-Interpreter relationship that Irina redirects towards Polina: she co-creates an empathic Therapist-Patient relationship by transmitting the FFA as if Théodore had directly addressed it to Polina.

The interpreter’s rendition is the tangible trace of her cognitive, relational and emotional involvement, which reflects her cooperation-oriented pretext (cf. 3.1):

It’s not just passing on what is said, it’s really interpreting everything: words, feelings, empathy. It means interpreting everything, not just the words, but everything, everything, everything. (Irina 12:59)

Positioned as a ‘Conveyor of meaning’, the interpreter renders the propositional content of the joke and the encouragement (FFAs). Concomitantly, she has positioned herself as a ‘Relational Mediator’: by replacing the third-person personal pronouns with second-person pronouns, she co-creates a supportive Therapist-Patient relationship.

5. Discussion

The analysis of the interviews provides some answers to the first three research questions. (1) The involvement of interpreters is considered necessary in MH. (2) Their cognitive involvement means that they are aware of the therapists’ communicative goals and therapeutic choices, that they can express their opinions and engage in discussion with the therapists in order to better adapt to their needs, and that they try to perceive the communicative intentions of the PSs beyond the literal meaning of the words. Their relational and emotional involvement means that they co-create a relationship of trust with therapists and patients, that they try to perceive the discursive and behavioural markers that build the relationships and convey emotions (active listening), and that they adapt their (non-)verbal behaviour to the emotional tone of the consultation (paraverbal and non-verbal signals of benevolent openness towards the other participants). Their cognitive involvement is inextricably intertwined with their relational and emotional involvement. Their behaviour reflects their pretexts (as defined in 3.1): the three interpreters adopt a cooperative stance. (3) Their involvement has the effects of underpinning the patient’s expression and the therapist’s work, increasing the accuracy and completeness of their renditions and, in fine, supporting the therapeutic process. Their involvement is manifested in the positions of ‘Therapist’s Collaborator’, ‘Relational Mediator’ and ‘Conveyor of meaning’ (as defined in 3.2, 3.3 and 3.4).

These findings illustrate what Bot (2005) has called the ‘interactive model of interpreting’ and are in line with those of other studies. Involvement entails metacommunicative exchanges between therapists and interpreters (Chang et al. 2021; Goguikian Ratcliff 2010; Gryesten et al. 2023), the ability to co-construct supportive and reassuring relationships (Boss-Prieto 2013) and controlled emotional mobilisation (Goguikian Ratcliff 2010; Hanft-Roberts et al. 2023).

The analysis of the consultations provides some answers to the fourth research question, as it shows that (4) the involvement of the interpreters leads to a specific discursive behaviour in the renditions, which can be conceptualised in the positions of ‘Conveyor of meaning’ and ‘Relational Mediator’. Both positions can be concomitant (as shown in 4.3). During the active listening phase, interpreters try to perceive not only what is said, but also what is meant and why it is meant. In other words, they use all their senses to grasp the intended meaning, that is, the thoughts, feelings, emotions and manifestations of empathy that run through the speaker’s verbal and non-verbal behaviour. During the production phase, they convey these elements, as they perceived them, through micro-adaptations of a pragmatic nature (in our data, verbalised inferences and prosodic cues as shown in 4.1 and 4.2, management of FFAs as shown in 4.3).

Interpreters thus produce a type of expanded renditions (Wadensjö 1998) or renditional formulations (Baraldi 2012) that we suggest to call ‘collaborative renditions’, in the sense that

• the interpreters make the speaker’s communicative intentions (as they perceive them) more manifest to the addressee, which co-creates a shared cognitive environment and reduces the latter’s cognitive efforts to process the renditions (for additional examples, cf. Delizée and Michaux 2019).
• they co-create supportive relationships (for additional examples, cf. Delizée and Michaux 2022).

The interpreters’ collaborative renditions reflect their pretext, that is, their cooperative stance: they display their belonging to the group and their willingness to put themselves at the service of communication and therapy.

Their involvement is facilitated by their position as ‘Therapist’s Collaborators’, which gives them access to extra-linguistic information. It is also based on their capacity for empathy, a cognitive perspective-taking ability which entails an understanding of the other’s situation, along with a degree of other-oriented concern communicated through carefully selected affective displays (Merlini and Gatti 2015: 154). The interviews show that for all three categories of respondents, it is crucial for interpreters to be able to perceive discourse markers and other manifestations of emotion and empathy, and to behave in a way that is in tune with the affective tone of the consultation, while maintaining a measured relationship with the PSs. This confirms that the manifestations of empathy are a joint activity of all participants (Merlini 2017: 13).

In addition, fundamental studies have long shown that interpreters:

1. coordinate interaction implicitly (Wadensjö 1998): when interpreting, they manage turn-taking;
2. coordinate interaction explicitly (Idem): when asking for clarification, making metalinguistic comments, and so on;
3. coordinate interaction reflexively (Baraldi and Gavioli 2012): when empowering PSs by giving them a space to talk through opportunities to express cultural identity, or by obtaining information from the patient that is medically relevant to the doctor.

Explicit and reflexive coordination is mainly achieved through non-renditions.

This study has shown that they:

4. produce collaborative renditions.

All the studies and findings cited in this section point to the following hypothesis. Driven by their cooperation-oriented pretexts, interpreters are likely to exercise a cooperative meta-coordination of the interaction which is manifested in the four types of discursive actions mentioned above. The meta-coordination is cooperative in the sense that through these actions, interpreters cooperate and get the PSs to cooperate by avoiding the risk of misunderstanding or damaging the relationship. This means that interpreters are likely to make discursive choices that have the effects of facilitating mutual understanding between the PSs and of co-creating supportive relationships, which in turn contributes to the satisfaction of the PSs’ communicative intentions. In MH settings, the cooperative meta-coordination of the interaction has the particular effects of supporting the patient’s self-expression and the clinician’s work, which contributes to the success of the therapy.

6. Limitations and conclusion

This qualitative study suggests linking MH interpreters’ pretexts, types of involvement, types of discursive actions, and coordination activity. It is based on data collected in French-speaking Belgium, and the influence of the cultural macro-context cannot be excluded. The data is audio only, not video, which limits the perception of the pragmatic aspects of communication. However, the results, combined with those of other studies, suggest the hypothesis of a cooperative meta-coordination of the interaction, which requires the cognitive, relational and emotional involvement of the interpreter. Each of the elements of this study, and the links between them, need to be further investigated with other data in order to confirm, refute or refine this hypothesis.

About the author(s)

Anne Delizée is Associate Professor at the Faculty of Translation and Interpretation at the University of Mons (Belgium), where she is Head of the Dialogue Interpreting Curricula and of the Post-Soviet Space and Slavic Countries Unit. She has a Master’s degree in Translation and in Slavic philology, and holds a PhD on mental health interpreting. Her main research interests focus on cognitive processes, interpersonal aspects, and the interpreter’s agency in Dialogue Interpreting, particularly in mental health settings. She is also an active dialogue interpreter in French-Russian and works with stakeholders in the field to improve the professionalisation of Public Service Interpreters in French-speaking Belgium.

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Abstract

The notion of ‘mediation’ has been used in dialogue interpreting research to address those features of the interpreting work which were not easily explainable in terms of translation proper, including adaptation in language and cultural perspectives (Pöchhacker 2008). The word ‘mediation’ however comes from studies on conflict mediation and includes the idea of managing disputes, an activity that is not part of dialogue interpreting. The choice made by some public services, particularly in Italian health care, to employ ‘intercultural mediators’ for their interpreting activities has further contributed to give extra meaning to the notion of mediation in interpreting, now increasingly conveying that mediating means addressing different, and potentially conflictive, cultural features and perspectives. In this paper we get back to the idea of mediation, as intended in conflict mediation, and compare mediation practices found in interactional studies of dispute resolutions (by Garcia 1995; 2019) with practices used by intercultural mediators providing interpreting service in Italian healthcare institutions. We analyse a selection of 400 mediator-interpreted encounters in women’s health with North and West African women speaking respectively Maghrebin Arabic and English as a second language. Our findings suggest that practices used in dispute resolutions and healthcare interpreting do have features in common and that these features do not have to do with emerging conflict (cultural or otherwise), rather with facilitating talk between parties.

Keywords: healthcare, mediation, interaction, conversational practices, conversation analysis, cultural features, talk facilitation

1. Introduction

In Italian public healthcare, dialogue interpreting is provided by so-called intercultural mediators. The employment of intercultural mediators, rather than professional interpreters, is a response to the increasing demand of public services for migrants, consequent to large inward migration flows. The intercultural mediator’s job is defined in a document issued by the Italian National Council of Economy and Labour (CNEL 2009) and aims to enhance positive intercultural relations, favouring migrants’ integration, facilitating their use of public services and improving their participation in social life. While in the 2009 version of the CNEL document, required skills include interpreting competence explicitly, work on mediating intercultural relations clearly remains of primary importance. Despite the document’s focus on the importance of mediating intercultural relations, however, mediators are de facto called mainly, if not exclusively, when migrants do not speak the Italian language thus making interpreting service the main requirement of the mediators’ job (Baraldi and Gavioli 2012; Falbo 2013). In interpreting studies, the Italian choice has aroused considerable debate (see Pöchhacker 2008; Merlini 2009; Pittarello 2009 among others). As noted by Merlini (2009), interpreting does include work on mediating between cultures; moreover, public service interpreting (not mediation) is a well-established profession in many European and non-European countries. Currently however, and in line with the CNEL document, ‘intercultural mediation’ is the preferred choice in Italian public services.

The word ‘mediation’ comes from research on conflict mediation. In Italy, conflict mediation has been connected to ‘intercultural mediation’ in the first wave of studies on interpreting in public services (see e.g. Ceccatelli Gurrieri, 2003; see Luatti 2011 for a critical overview), a connection which might entail the assumption that conflict is implied when different habits or viewpoints come in contact. Thus, in a first phase, Italian studies on public service encounters with migrants might have considered these encounters as potentially conflictual and in need of (conflict) ‘mediation’. The words ‘mediation’/’mediating’ have also been used in reference to interpreting practices, highlighting the focus on the ‘intercultural’ component of interpreting. In a well-known discussion of mediation in interpreting, Pöchhacker (2008) has suggested that mediation actually accounts for practices of dialogue interpreting, both as a cognitive process, in making sense of the interlocutors’ talk, and as a linguistic-cultural component, when addressing different cultural features and viewpoints. Some recent studies, however, have increasingly regarded the ‘cultural’ component of the mediation concept as a debatable way of looking at dialogue interpreting. In particular, it was argued that treating migrant service users as culturally-specific leads to ‘othering’ migrant minorities (Felberg and Skaaden 2012) and assigns them to categories in which cultural features prevail and their being ‘persons’ is no longer a possibility (Baraldi 2012).

While reflection has thus been dedicated to the cultural issue, much less has been said about the actual significance of ‘mediation’ and ‘mediating’, a concept encompassing any type of modification and adaptation in both the activity of interpreters and in the activity of mediators. To the best of our knowledge, a systematic comparison between the interpreting work of professional interpreters and professional mediators in public services has not been carried out yet. Preliminary attempts to work out differences between the actual practices used in interactions with one or the other professional (Amato and Gavioli 2008; Pittarello 2009) were not further elaborated because of the lack of comparable data, a collection of which would still be strongly needed in interpreting research. Indeed, the interpreting work of mediators shows up as a different one related to what would be expected in ‘interpreting’, giving rise to difficulties in either making sense of which role the mediators are expected to cover in the varied contexts of public service interactions (Leanza 2005) and in defining the mediators’ professionalism (or non-professionalism) as interpreters (Baraldi and Gavioli 2016).

This contribution sets out as a preliminary attempt to discuss the concept of mediation and mediating, dis-associating it from the ‘intercultural’ component that has so strongly affected the debate on mediation in interpreting. We do so, by getting back to the function of mediation and looking at the interactional practices used by conflict mediators to help disputants speak to each other. While conflict is not a characterising feature of talk involving public service interpreting, studies on interpreter-mediated interaction recognise that interpreters coordinate a speech exchange system (Wadensjö 1998) and in particular that interpreters’ renditions may represent one participant’s position in the language of another participant (Wadensjö 2018). Studies of interaction in conflict mediation similarly show practices based on ‘relaying’ talk that facilitate the speech exchange and that similarly pose problems in enhancing the interlocutors’ participation while maintaining neutrality on the part of the mediator in the dispute (Garcia 1995; 2019). Relaying in conflict mediation has been addressed, by Heritage and Clayman (2010: 209), as ‘transformative’ in that it modifies and re-presents one disputant’s position so as to invite a responsive concession from the other disputant.

In this paper, we analyse data recorded in Italian women’s health services, where intercultural mediators provide interpreting in conversations between female patients and clinicians. In our data, mediators sometimes use transformative relaying practices to render providers’ talk by ‘re-presenting’ it not only as to make providers’ contributions more easily understandable or acceptable by the migrant patients, but also to invite a relevant response from the patient as a receiver. In this case, relaying is ‘transformative’ since it invites a response based on personal experience – unlike conflict mediation in which what is pursued is a responsive concession. Our concluding question is whether and how far transformation involved in these mediating practices is in line with the public services’ requirement for mediation and whether these mediating practices are oriented to facilitating talk through interpreting in public services.

2. Conflict mediation and transformative relaying

In conflict mediation, two parties ask for help from a third party to resolve a dispute. While conflict mediation clearly involves some form of conflict, it is non-adversarial and finding solutions is much more important than disputing. The third party, the mediator, is not the one who provides solutions, but participates in talk, so as to help the disputants talk to each other and find their own solutions through talk. Mediators thus participate in the interaction with a coordinating function facilitating the parties’ access to each other’s position or point of view. It is this coordinating and facilitating function of conflict mediation that we are interested in and would like to explore in this paper.

In ‘the speech exchange system of mediation’, as she calls it, Garcia (1995, 2019) shows that the main practice used by mediators is that of ‘representing’ the disputants’ positions. Mediators represent the disputants’ positions in three ways: a. paraphrasing disputants’ talk; b. extending or elaborating on a disputant’s stated position (revoicing); c. replacing the disputant. 

Paraphrasing consists in repeating a disputant's position, by summarising it slightly and making the point on that disputant’s position clear. Paraphrases are never exact repetitions of disputant's statements. Rather, there are small changes oriented to the interlocutor’s response, for instance paraphrases articulate the main point of a story or the main area of disagreement by highlighting common ground. Paraphrases show that the way in which a statement, or an offer, is represented may have an impact on how it will be responded to by the other party. They enable the mediator to serve as an intermediary both showing that disputants’ statements were heard and understood (Garcia 2019: 130) and in offering a paraphrased (thus ‘understandable’) statement to the other party. The mediating function of paraphrase thus mainly consists in reinterpreting one disputant’s statement as plausible, thus hedging the possibility that the respondent rejects it.

Extending or elaborating a disputant's stated position (Garcia 1995), also referred to as revoicing in Garcia’s later work (2019), includes instances where mediators elaborate or extend a position taken by that disputant in a previous utterance, involving the opposing disputant in direct exchange (Garcia 2019: 132), so that talk is not directed to both interlocutors, but to one of them mainly (the opponent). Revoicing differs from paraphrasing because the mediator goes beyond what was actually said by the disputant by explaining the disputant’s position and is based on conversational moves that facilitate the speech exchange by modifying and re-presenting one disputant’s concessionary position to invite a responsive concession from the other disputant, as Heritage and Clayman (2010) put it. In this sense, revoicing makes ‘changes that might bridge the gap between the two disputants and help move toward agreement’ (Garcia 2019: 133).

The third way of representing the disputants’ positions mentioned by Garcia (1995; 2019) is called replacing. When replacing one disputant, the mediators do not restrict themselves to re-presenting the disputant's expressed positions; rather, they go beyond what the disputant said and argue in place of the disputant. The mediator thus directly engages in negotiations with the opposing disputant, creating his or her own arguments, and acting as a principal, rather than re-presenting what the disputant said. Garcia notes that while paraphrasing and revoicing have positive consequences on conflict mediation because they facilitate the disputants’ understanding of each other position and autonomous elaboration of their conflict, the replacing modality puts one of the participants under strong pressure, diminishing the disputants’ autonomy and mediator’s impartiality or neutrality (Garcia 2019: 141, 148) and increases the disputants’ reluctance and reservations about possible agreements (Garcia 1995: 38). Replacing, according to Garcia, reduces the possibility of successful mediation, of disputants’ satisfaction and also compliance with agreements.

Garcia’s discussion of conflict mediation shows, in our view, two main points of interest concerning mediation through interpreting: the first is that replacing actions obstacle the disputants’ participation in the interaction in that one of them is substituted by the mediator. So while replacing is a form of conflict mediation it cannot be considered a form of mediation facilitating talk between the interlocutors and is seemingly not effective even in dispute resolutions. Work in interpreting studies too has warned against the risk of interpreters replacing one of the interlocutors, depriving these interlocutors of their possibility to participate in talk (see for instance Mason 2009). The second, definitely more interesting point, is the mediating function triggered by both paraphrasing and revoicing. Paraphrasing and revoicing show that interpreted (by the mediator) repetition of disputants’ positions and stories makes responses relevant by one or both interlocutors making their positions increasingly clear to each other. This interactional function of paraphrasing and revoicing in conflict mediation is referred to in Heritage and Clayman (2010: 210-11) as transformative relaying.

Transformative relaying refers to transformation in two ways. The first are the changes that mediators produce in their relaying one participant’s contribution. The second, possibly less obvious but even more interesting, is the transformation that relaying produces towards the respondent, enhancing the respondent’s understanding of the opponent’s position and the relevance for the respondent to respond. Paraphrasing and revoicing do not ‘transform’ the disputants’ positions, but the interaction proper, by assisting the disputants in gradually finding a solution by themselves.

3. Mediating in dispute resolution and in PSI

To the best of our knowledge, there are no studies giving evidence that conflict characterizes PSI, particularly in healthcare services. According to Garcia (2019), on the other hand, conflict is not a characterising feature of dispute resolutions either. So mediation does not have to do with conflict mitigation, not even in dispute resolutions. Rather, mediation in dispute resolutions works by relaying one participant’s contribution both to make that contribution accessible and relevant for the interlocutor’s purposes and to invite an interlocutor’s relevant response. This is what mediation does in PSI too. The delicate point, in both cases, is how to mediate without pushing the interlocutors’ positions, an action which might, in both cases, be detrimental for the success of the interaction – finding a convincing solution or getting adequate service. In this sense, it seems that inquiring into how mediation is carried out in dispute resolutions may throw light on the significance of mediation practices in PSI too.

There is of course a difference between addressing disputes in monolingual conflict mediation and addressing understanding in bilingual PSI. While both conflict mediation and PSI aim to enhance interlocutors’ active participation, the difference is between a transformation concerning the participants’ management of conflicts and a transformation concerning the participants’ possibility to respond to other participants’ utterances when language is not shared.

Garcia (2019) shows that conflict mediators mainly (and more successfully) relay by paraphrasing and by revoicing. In both cases they add significance to the content of the previous turn by inserting or highlighting points of convergence. The difference between paraphrasing and revoicing consists in the degree of tentativeness used in relaying, as paraphrasing is proposed to both interlocutors, with a possibility by the speaker who produced the content first to confirm or adjust the new formulation, while revoicing takes it for granted that the content-producer agrees on the new formulation and what is instead pursued is a reaction by the other.

Our analysis shows that both paraphrasing and revoicing are used also by the intercultural mediators in our data (and in other data too, see Raymond 2014), and significance is added transforming content from one language to another. Since PSI involves two languages, however, participants do not have full control on how their contributions are relayed in the other language, thus making their possibility of amending less likely. What distinguishes paraphrasing from revoicing in PSI is thus that while transformation in paraphrasing only affects the participant’s contribution content, by for instance making explicit what is implicit, revoicing also affects the turn-taking system by projecting a turn-shift from one to the other interlocutor, inviting the latter to provide more or even new pieces of information. Revoicing then not only interprets what is said by one interlocutor, but invites replies by the other interlocutor, giving them floor to talk.

As for the third type of practice identified in Garcia’s studies, replacing, intercultural mediators in our data use replacing practices and in fact substitute one interlocutor. Space is not enough, in this paper, to provide an adequate account of mediators’ replacing practices, but we will focus on some cases in which the mediators say what might be expected by the clinician. We note, however, that replacing may be a blurred concept in PSI since sometimes intercultural mediators provide service whose responsibility is very hard to attribute and might fall in ‘no one’s responsibility’. This finding suggests that there are areas of communication in healthcare for migrants that still need exploration and recognition.

4. Data and methods

In the following sections, we analyse data recorded in public healthcare services in two provinces of Northern Italy. All the data are audio-data from a large corpus of interpreted interactions collected over the last 20 years and including a variety of settings and languages (the AIM corpus, see Corradini et al. 2024). Interpreting in the healthcare services represented in the corpus is provided by intercultural mediators. Although intercultural mediators may have received no or little training in interpreting techniques (Merlini 2009; Pittarello 2009), within the category of mediators, training, skill and expertise may vary a lot. The healthcare services we collaborated with are among the most advanced in Italy as for the organization of mediators’ services, permanently monitoring and training their staff (see Chiarenza 2020).

The data examined in this paper are a selection of 400 encounters collected in women’s health services – obstetrics and gynaecology, transcribed using the Jeffersonian transcript method recently elaborated in Hepburn and Bolden (2017). While the data are audio, one researcher was present during data-recording, providing notes for frequent sounds like typing, printing, and reading or handing out papers. The data selection includes only two languages besides Italian: English and Arabic. English is spoken as a second language in the Ghanaian, Nigerian and, to a smaller extent, Indian variety; Arabic is spoken in the Maghrebin variety of Morocco and Tunisia and transliterated to allow for an adequate representation of overlaps^[1]. All mediators have themselves a migration history.

The approach we use is derived from Conversation Analysis, particularly applied to talk in institutional settings (Antaki 2011; Drew and Heritage 1992; Heritage and Clayman 2010) and is based on studies in interpreter-mediated interaction as elaborated in Wadensjö (1998) and Mason (2006) as well as in our own work (Baraldi and Gavioli 2012, 2016). More specifically, in this paper, we refer to the studies carried out by Garcia (2019) in conflict mediation, and we look at paraphrasing, revoicing and replacing as mediating features of the interpreting work of intercultural mediators. We argue that the extra-supplement of mediation in mediator-interpreted talk has very little to do with cultural management. Rather, the transformation that is visible in intercultural mediators’ work is oriented to a welcoming, hospitable idea of opening migrants’ access to services. Whether this transformation is facilitative or patronising or, in other words, whether, in so doing, intercultural mediators are access-openers or gatekeepers of the clinician agenda is a reflection that should probably be taken in serious consideration in both interpreting research and in studies on public service communication.

5. Paraphrasing and revoicing in mediator-interpreted interaction

An analysis of our selected corpus shows that intercultural mediators render talk by using paraphrasing and/or revoicing quite frequently. For the sake of our argument, we will focus only on renditions of talk from the clinician to the patient, since these two participants are those who represent the public institution. An analysis of renditions of talk from the patient to the clinician is, however, likewise possible and similarly relevant.

5.1 Paraphrasing

As mentioned in section 2 above, paraphrasing consists in repeating the contribution of one of the interlocutors by making the point on what is considered relevant in that contribution. Similarly to conflict mediators, intercultural mediators paraphrase clinicians’ talk by summarising, but more frequently their renditions contain forms of clarification either of single items mentioned in the clinician’s turn or highlighting what seems to be the main point and purpose in the clinician’s contribution. Let us look at two extracts. Extract 1 shows paraphrasing of a lexical item, while extract 2 shows paraphrasing by stressing the main point in the clinician’s contribution.

In extract 1, the clinician asks the patient, a refugee woman from Ghana, if she has a card for temporary residents, enabling her to be given extra health service, not just emergency care. The card is abbreviated STP, standing for ‘Straniero Temporaneamente Presente’ (temporary present foreigner), an abbreviation that is used by the clinician in her request in turn 71. As can be seen in the extract, the mediator starts rendering in turn 74 in overlap with the clinician and paraphrases the item mentioned by the clinician twice, in turn 77 as ‘hospital card’ and in turn 81 as ‘the temporary white one’.

Extract 1 (DOC: gynaecologist; MED: mediator; PAT: patient)^[2]

The mediator’s paraphrasing shows that using the abbreviation STP might have an impact on the patient’s response possibly leading her to ask for clarification or even non responding. The mediator thus serves as an intermediary interpreting the clinician’s talk as technical, but ‘paraphrasable’ for the other party into a more easily recognizable item: a white card given by the hospital. The patient shows her recognition of the item asked about by providing a 'no'-answer twice: in turn 78, immediately after the first paraphrasing, and another one following the mediator’s second paraphrasing in turn 81. The 'no'-answer (rendered to the clinician in turn 79) is easily provided by the patient and the floor is then open to either the clinician or the patient to take the next turn. After a 5-second pause, the clinician will take the turn with a new question (data not shown).

In Extract 2, the clinician provides two pieces of information: the first is that the patient will take blood tests in June, the second is that she has to go personally to collect her HIV test record of a blood test previously taken. The HIV record in Italy is a legally protected document that is not available to the clinician through the hospital intranet so, unless the patients are hospitalised, clinicians have no access to HIV records, only the patients. The clinician’s turn lasts 30 seconds overall (feedback and pauses included) a stretch of time usually manageable in interpreting. Within these 30 seconds, the clinician marks the second part of her contribution (opening turn 39) as the crucial one: ‘What is important’. Let us see the clinician’s contribution in Extract 2a: first part up to turn 37 prescribing next blood test and second part (turns 39- 44) recommending to collect the HIV record:

Extract 2a (OBS: midwife; MED: mediator)

The mediator provides ‘mhm’-feedback allowing the clinician to go on talking, then after her last ‘mmh’ in turn 45 and a following 0.7 pause, she starts rendering. Her paraphrasing inverts the textual order of the two parts of the clinician’s contribution starting with the second piece of information, the HIV one, presented by the clinician as the most important. Extract 2b shows the mediator’s paraphrasing of the clinician’s recommendation to collect the record: the specific test is introduced first, then the importance to collect the test record, then the necessity to collect it personally and finally the reason why the patient has to personally go to the desk.

Extract 2b (MED: mediator; PAT: patient)

The mediator’s paraphrasing is clearly not an exact repetition of the clinician’s contribution and not only in her switching the two pieces of information. There are, in the mediator’s version, small changes oriented to showing the patient that the report is needed and that she can help by collecting it ‘on her own’, personally, or otherwise it will not be possible for the clinician to read it. In this case, the mediator serves as an intermediary in both showing that she understood the main point of the clinician’s request and in offering a compliable invitation to the patient. It is interesting to note that the mediator does not push the patient to comply with the clinician’s request, at least not as much as the clinician herself does; rather she clearly gives the patient reasons why the record is not available unless she personally goes and gets it.

The patient produces continuation feedback during the mediator’s paraphrasing and shows she got the point by proposing a completion of the mediator’s contribution in turn 54: ‘they don’t give out’. The mediator accepts the patient’s conclusion partially and completes her explanation in turn 56. After the mediator’s conclusion, there is a pause in which none of the parties take the turn and the mediator will then go on and render the first piece of information given by the clinician.

The extracts showcase two rather different examples of paraphrasing, one in which what is paraphrased is a technical concept rendered in two different versions oriented to an easier recognition of which card the clinician is seeking; the other is a more elaborated, textually re-organized paraphrase in which the main issue highlighted by the clinician is further highlighted and explained by the mediator. What the two have in common is: a. that the patient receives considerable help in identifying both the object and the objective of the clinician’s request; b. that they make the understanding reaction of the patient visible; c. that nothing else is visible besides the patient’s confirmation of understanding, thus making it clear to the other interlocutor, the clinician, that her contribution has been passed over and received. So the floor gets open to either of the two parties to initiate a new series of actions.

It may of course be argued that, differently from monolingual conflict mediation, the clinicians here do not have control on how their contributions are paraphrased thus making it very unlikely for them to provide amendments or adjustments. The mediators’ paraphrase however is represented as a ‘what the clinician wants to know’ making the clinicians’ statements or requests respondable, and responded, by the patient. Mediators’ relaying through paraphrasing modifies the clinicians’ contributions on a mainly textual basis, transforming them from a not easily respondable, or possibly not respondable at all, request or statement into a respondable (and responded) one. The response normally closes the current sequence and leaves the floor open for a new one.

5.2 Revoicing

Garcia’s conceptualization refers to revoicing as relaying one party’s contribution explicitly addressing it to the other one. By explicitly addressing their relaying to one party, the mediators take it for granted that the relayed party agrees with the mediator’s version of that party’s position, while the opponent is the invited responder. In interaction interpreted by mediators, revoicing goes beyond paraphrasing because the mediator’s version does not only modify the original version textually, but there is something extra added by the mediator that is explicitly addressed to the other interlocutor and elicits that interlocutor’s response. By revoicing, the mediator ‘gives voice’ to what s/he has interpreted to be the relayed speaker’s orientation and collaborates in getting additional relevant information from the interlocutor. Examples of revoicing in mediators’ rendition of clinicians’ contributions for the patients are visible in rendering clinicians’ questioning and explanations, recommendations or reassurance. Let us look at two examples revoicing questions.

Extract 3 shows a sequence with a pregnant woman, speaking Arabic. The problem is again that of collecting test records from the hospital desk. In turn 1, the midwife inquiries about the records producing a statement probably deriving from the data available to her: ‘they haven’t gone to take them’. In the mediators’ rendition, the clinician’s statement is paraphrased into a question (turn 2) in which the mentioned records are made explicit (‘The test results came out on the fifteenth of March’) and the statement of the clinician reported (‘you haven’t gone to take the result’). The mediator’s rendition, however, also includes something extra, a hypothesis about a plausible reason why the couple might not have gone to collect the record. The plausible reason (‘your husband was at work’) is a mediator’s addition to what the clinician said and is explicitly addressed to the patient, inviting her to confirm or to provide another reason for not going. The patient’s answer in turn 4 in fact shows that the patient has taken up the mediator’s invitation.

Extract 3 (OBS: midwife; MED: mediator; PAT: patient)

In turn 131, the patient mentions her daughter; turn 132 shows the mediator’s interpretation of the patient’s contribution as the invited, plausible reason for not collecting the record: ‘kanit marida’, ‘was she sick?’. This time, the mediator’s provision of the reason for not going is confirmed by the patient (turn 133) and rendered by the mediator to the clinician in Italian (turn 134). Turn 135 shows the clinician’s acceptance and acknowledgment.

The mediator’s rendition of the clinician’s question is thus paraphrased by re-shaping it into an explicit question form and by mentioning which test records the clinician is referring to. Differently from the previous cases of paraphrasing that we have seen in section 4.1 however, it also includes a supplement, revoicing the question by suggesting that there might be good reasons why the patient has not (yet) complied with the clinician’s requirement. In her revoicing, the mediator renders the same content, but transforms the embedding interaction: on the one hand she hedges the possibility that pressure is put on the patient for her non-compliance, and, on the other, she invites the patient to provide the good-reason-she-surely-has, thus reassuring the clinician that the test record will eventually be there.

Let us pass to the next extract. Here the clinician, in turn 41, addresses the patient by using her first name Betty (fabricated in the transcript). The clinician asks two questions: where the patient works and if she works. The mediator in turn 42 renders the second question first (if the patient works), then almost in overlap with the clinician’s repetition of her own first question she renders ‘where?’. It should probably be noted that, in Italian, ‘dove lavori’ (where do you work?) is often used to mean ‘what do you do’, which is probably what the clinician aims to get since the type of work may have an impact on the patients’ health. In turn 45 the patient answers the ‘where’-question and provides the name of a small town (fabricated in the transcript) in the nearby of the hospital main town, which is acknowledged by the clinician. The mediator’s revoicing starts in turn 47 in which she adds an extra that is explicitly addressed to the patient and was not in the clinician’s question: ‘you don’t work on the road’. The patient in fact works on the road, an information she partially gives in turn 48 and that gets completed by the mediator in turn 49

Extract 4 (OBS: midwife; MED: mediator; PAT: patient)

Let us first consider the mediator’s revoicing and then the rest of the sequence. The rendition choices of the mediator in turns 42 and 44 show that she has interpreted the second clinician’s question as prior to the first one: if the patient does not work, she cannot say where she works. In turn 44 the mediator might have paraphrased the clinician’s first question into ‘what do you do’, but her rendition maintains the clinician’s question form, allowing the patient to provide a broad range of options, from a general area, like a town, to more specific locations like names of companies, institutions, shops or associations. The patient provides the name of a town, which might suggest the mediator that the place mentioned is an area of prostitution, or that the patient hesitates to tell about her job. By adding a negatively-framed question (see Heritage 2009) ‘you don’t work on the road’, the mediator explicitly invites the patient to confirm or disconfirm and shows her orientation to get the piece of information the clinician is presumably seeking: the patient’s job. The mediator and the clinician both provide understanding feedback, in overlap (turns 49 and 50) and the clinician’s next question in turn 51, relating to the patient’s safety on work, shows both that the clinician understood what was said by the patient and the mediator in English and that she considers the detail relevant for her course of actions.

In both extract 3 and 4, the mediator’s revoicing is produced by adding items to the clinician’s questions, which specifically invite the patient to provide more information, a plausible reason for not going to collect a test record or the job the patient currently has. By revoicing, in these cases, the mediator interprets that a supplement of information is involved in the clinician’s question and proceeds autonomously to elicit it from the patient. The mediator’s interpreting in this case works both on the orientation of the clinician towards getting a relevant piece of information and of the patient in providing what is required. Relaying is thus transformative in producing a relevant context for that (missing) piece of information to be produced.

In the examples seen in this section, then, revoicing provides evidence of how the mediator interpreted the orientation of the clinician to the patient. The mediator’s rendition in these cases is not just addressed to the patient as this-is-what-the-clinician-said, but elicits a patient’s specific response, orienting the patient to what is relevant to say (and do) next. The mediator’s relaying, giving voice to what the mediator interprets as relevant missing items, make these items explicit in talk and offered to be specifically addressed in the patients’ response. The interaction thus transforms the interlocutors’ participation by actively re-orienting it to what was implicit before: the relevance of providing a good reason for not collecting test reports or of saying which job the patient has.

6. Replacing

As mentioned in previous sections of this work, Garcia’s discussion includes three ways of mediating, replacing being the third after paraphrasing and revoicing. She notes that the replacing mode is not functional in conflict mediation in that replacing one of the interlocutors in the interaction means in fact preventing that disputant to participate autonomously. Interpreting studies have similarly warned against the risk that the interpreter replaces one of the interlocutors, who would be left aside and deprived of the possibility to participate – even more so in an interaction in which the interlocutors’ language is not shared (see for example Davidson 2000; Hsieh 2007, 2016).

In our data, cases of replacing basically confirm the literature’s findings. When the mediator substitutes one interlocutor, the clinician in our case, that interlocutor is deprived of the possibility of participating. This is not only a problem per se, but also leads to losing control of the interaction, making it difficult to re-invite the ‘left-out’ participant to participate again. There are however cases in which the mediator participates in the place of the clinician, without causing apparent trouble in the interaction, which smoothly reprises in its triadic form after the mediator’s contribution. The greatest part of these cases can probably be divided into two types: ‘direction-giving’ basically offering instructions about how to reach a surgery, a desk, a chemist’s and the like, or ‘clinician’s mandate’ that is to say explicit invitations by the clinician to the mediator to act in the clinician’s place. Below, we will see an example of each of these cases with details showing that the clinician is not excluded and indeed participates in the course of actions. There are however also more nuanced cases in which the mediator replaces the clinicians spontaneously, possibly treating the clinician’s contributions as mandates. The third example in this section will illustrate one such case.

Let us start from Extract 5 below showing an example of direction-giving. Here the patient has complained of white vaginal discharges, which seem to her unusual. Since it is the second time the patient comes and complains of the same problem, the clinician decides to prescribe a vaginal swab. The clinician’s advice is given in turns 412-414 and the mediator starts rendering in turn 415, while showing the patient the written prescription (as can be understood from the sound of paper in the recording, from what the clinician said a few turns before the extract and from our field notes). The patient starts responding in turn 416 (‘okay’) and then asks two questions, both of which are not rendered and are instead answered by the mediator.

Extract 5 (DOC: gynaecologist; MED: mediator; PAT: patient)

Let us look at the mediator’s answers. The first takes just one turn (turn 418) and is a response to whether the patient will keep the paper with her; the second, answering the patient’s question in turn 419 (‘where is the place’) is a full provision of information about where to go, starting in turn 420 and ending with patient’s ‘okay’ in turn 429. While the mediator is clearly replacing the clinician in giving these instructions, the clinician is not excluded and in fact she collaborates in the instruction-giving sequence, by handing in more written information: in turn 423 she passes a paper to the mediator (‘to’ to’ to’’, meaning ‘do take this’) and in turn 424 she points to the laboratory address (‘qua’). The mediator then renders the meaning of the clinician’s gesture, which is acknowledged by the patient in turn 430. In what follows the mediator will render the reason for taking a vaginal swab, which was left untranslated before and the clinician takes her turn immediately after the mediator, to greet the patient.

In our data, we have several direction-giving sequences in which it is the mediator, not the clinician, who provides the details. None of these cases show conversational trouble, like pauses, overlaps or hesitations, rather the clinician either collaborates with the mediator in giving the directions, as in Extract 6, or they just take the turn immediately after the direction-sequence continuing their course of actions, for instance opening a new sequence or closing the encounter. It can be noted that direction-giving sequences are rather transparent from a language point of view, in that the mentioned places and addresses are Italian institutional places which the clinician is most familiar with. Possibly for this reason, it seems that mediators replacing clinicians in giving direction is a rather standardised practice in mediator-interpreted interaction in our data.

Extract 6 shows what we have called clinician’s mandate. Clinician’s mandates are a complex category because there are many ways in which clinicians project expectations for the meditators to do ‘more than render’, for instance expanding explanations or insisting on recommendations, as shown in Gavioli (2015). Clinician’s explicit mandates are however not very frequent in our data and normally initiate a standard series of history taking questions produced by the mediator. In Extract 6, the clinician asks the mediator whether the patient said something more than what the mediator rendered previously and the mediator in turn 699 (first turn in the extract) confirms that there is nothing more to render. In turn 700, the clinician acknowledges the mediator’s response and in turn 701 asks her to investigate further (‘re indaga’). The mediator in turn 702 produces a couple of history-taking questions, the first (turn 702) checking that there is nothing else excluding the thyroid disease that the patient mentioned before, the second (turn 706) is a really replacing question, possibly formulated on the basis of the mediator’s experience in the service, in which the mediator acts in the place of the clinician. As can be seen the clinician acknowledges the mediator’s rendition of the patient’s answers in turn 708 and briefly passes on to complete the patient’s record including only the thyroid detail, nothing else (‘punto’/’full-stop’, in turn 709, meaning ‘that’s all’)

Extract 6 (DOC: gynaecologist; MED: mediator; PAT: patient)

As can be seen in Extract 6, the mediator’s investigation is largely a repetition either of what was previously asked (‘anything else excluding thyroidism?’) or of typical history-taking questions like ‘any operations?’. The patient’s 'no'-answers are immediately rendered to the clinician and followed by her confirmation of understanding and acknowledgment. The mediator-patient exchange lasts 16 seconds, making it very unlikely for the clinician to be deprived of her possibility to participate. What is more is that the mediator’s replacing in this case is ‘governed’ by the clinician, who never loses control of the interaction, asks explicitly to be replaced and takes her place back immediately after obtaining the answer she wants.

Unlike the case of direction-giving, however, in the case of clinician’s mandate, the meditator replaces the clinician not only by becoming the main interlocutor of the patient but also by expressing content and competencies that are ‘the clinician’s’. While on the one hand, mandates in all cases regard highly repetitive procedures, like typical questions in history-taking or typical recommendations regarding for example personal hygiene or diet, on the other the mediator is not only the one who asks the questions or gives recommendations, but also the one who receives the patient’s responses first and needs to react to them promptly. It is probably in the management of this reaction that the risk of excluding the clinician is higher. In the case in question, the mediator collects the answers from the patient and renders them immediately back to the clinician, thus minimising such risk.

Let us now look at our last example of replacing. Here we have neither an explicit or implicit request for directions, nor an explicit mandate. The midwife’s contribution in turn 254 arrives after her consideration of giving the patient glucose screening, which is normally taken at week 28 in pregnancy. Her comment (‘she’s too late’) makes reference to the patient being at week 31 in her pregnancy, so too late to have a regular glucose screening. The mediator renders the clinician’s comment first by paraphrasing it in turn 255 and then engaging in a thorough explanation of the reason why the patient is not given the screening.

Extract 7 (OBS: midwife; MED: mediator; PAT: patient)

The mediator’s explanation makes sense of the clinician’s comment by clarifying why it is too late to have glucose screening at the patient’s stage of pregnancy and the details she gives are well-known to her, a long-time employee at the service. The patient and her husband show understanding and appreciation, and ask no questions. The exchange of the mediator with the patient and her husband lasts 18 seconds, so, again, a time short enough to allow the clinician to keep control of the interaction and re-enter it in turn 264 to eventually prescribe more tests. So, there is actually no evidence of disfluency or trouble in this sequence, which is opened and quickly closed by the mediator as if she had rendered a longer stretch of talk. In fact, the explanation is helpful for the clinician who, in the meanwhile, is filling the patient’s record and typing the prescriptions.

Replacing in our data is thus not so uncommon. For some actions, falling neither in the clinicians’ or the mediators’ most direct tasks, like giving directions, replacing is actually the standard practice. The types of replacing shown here do not cause interactional trouble and do not exclude the clinician from the interaction, rather in the case of mandates, the clinician keeps high control on what is going on and re-intervenes promptly when she deems relevant. In a way, replacing optimises the interaction, possibly reducing the time of the encounter.

As in dispute resolutions, replacing has however some consequences on the parties’ relationships that may deserve attention. The first is that there is no relaying. This means that there is no mediator’s work on connecting the two parties, so no possibility of transforming their non-talk with each other into talk. While replacing may supply relevant and helpful details without really excluding one of the parties and making it clear that what is said is in agreement with that party, it is not ‘relaying’ proper, not the voice of that party transformed into something acceptable and familiar. As seen in the examples above, moreover, replacing occurs within ‘helpful sequences’, filling the gap of a ‘no-one territory’ like giving directions, or of a clinician doing something for the patient in parallel, or explaining procedures that were left unexplained for some reason. These are all beneficial actions making the interaction possibly more welcoming for the patient, but they deprive the clinician from the opportunity of enacting them and being the one who is helpful and welcoming. So while replacing practices in interpreted interaction may not be as disruptive as in dispute resolutions, they may suggest that mediators are filling gaps in what is not, after all, such a migrant-friendly service. By filling these gaps, mediators do not relay on an existing gap by making it visible, rather they cover it, thus preventing clinicians from the trouble of developing their own welcoming practices.

7. Conclusions

In this paper we have shown that conversational practices of mediation found in dispute resolution (Garcia 2019) can be found also in interpreting provided by intercultural mediators in Italian healthcare services. Relaying practices in particular, like paraphrasing and revoicing, seem to account for the types of changes that intercultural mediators carry out when rendering, explicating clinicians’ contents and interactional expectations for patients’ responses.

This finding casts a rather new light on the idea of ‘intercultural mediation’. While ‘cultural’ issues like wearing a veil, eating Nigerian food or differences in ways of calculating time and age are sometimes visible in our data, and explicated when necessary, they account for no more than five per cent of the 400 total encounters. There is thus very little ‘culture’ in the process of mediation as it appears analysing our occurrences of mediator-interpreted encounters. The bulk of the ‘mediating’ work of mediators in interpreted interaction, instead, consists in making clinicians’ contents explicit and easily recognisable for the patient and in interpreting the purposes of clinicians’ contributions, inviting the patients to provide relevant responses.

Similarly to what occurs in dispute resolutions, then, relaying through paraphrasing and revoicing transforms the interaction by showing a ‘more accessible’ version of the clinicians’ contributions and legitimising ‘non-knowledge’ on the part of the patients. An interesting difference between paraphrasing and revoicing in mediator-interpreted interaction is their orientation towards the interlocutors, the patients in our case. While paraphrasing slightly modifies the clinicians’ utterances, it makes the understanding reaction of patients visible, also making it clear to the clinicians that their contribution has been translated and received. Revoicing affects the modification of clinicians’ utterances more extensively, not only making implicit contents of these utterances explicit, but also adding content triggering patients’ responses. Revoicing has a clear impact on turn-taking in actively orienting the patients to what is relevant to say and do next.

As for replacing, we have seen that in our PSI encounters, mediators take initiative in supplying ‘further help’, for instance by giving directions, or are explicitly asked to take the clinicians’ place temporarily, by asking routine questions or ensuring that the patient has nothing else to add. We have observed that replacing practices do not hinder and indeed might improve efficiency in providing service, a finding that is suggested also in Mason (2009). Similarly to what Mason (2009) noted however, replacing does not favour the relationship between the clinician and the patient, the mediator taking the place of the ‘welcoming’, kind participant in the service encounter, thus depriving clinicians from the opportunity of providing autonomous support to migrant’s participation. There thus seems to be a paradoxical relation between mediators’ support to patients’ participation and their relaying between clinicians and patients: the more the latter is hindered, the more patients’ participation is supported. A crucial open question for the healthcare services would thus concern the extent to which they may find it useful or necessary to separate transformative relaying involving the clinician in patients’ supportive, welcoming service from access to services. Mediating activities like replacing can indeed favour patients’ participation and facilitate it, but clinicians may, after all, be prevented from being the facilitators. This, we believe, may be a fruitful point of reflection for services’ achievement of friendliness for migrants.