B.J. Woodstein, on Translating Sara Stridsberg & Beatrice Alemagna’s WE GO TO THE PARK
Written by Swedish author Sara Stridsberg and illustrated by Italian artist Beatrice Alemagna, We Go to the Park is a beautiful, lyrical meditation on going to the park to play—which extends into a reflection on life itself. In an interview with Enchanted Lion, translator B.J. Woodstein discusses bringing the openness and ambiguity of Stridsberg’s voice into English, what going to the park means to her personally, and why picture books are especially important to translate.
ELB: You’ve translated Sara Stridsberg’s work once before, with The Summer of Diving. What were your impressions of We Go to the Park when you first read it in Swedish? How would you describe Stridsberg’s voice in Swedish, and how did you go about bringing it into English?
BJW: When I first saw We Go to the Park, I loved the openness of the text and the darker palette used for the images. I felt that the book was different from other picture books being published right now. Stridsberg is an author whose works tend to feature deep emotion and thought in an understated, often subtle way. In her picture books, she doesn’t patronize children or write down to them; she writes of true, difficult feelings and experiences, and she encourages the reader to meet her there, in all that depth.
There’s an openness, an ambiguity to Sara Stridsberg’s voice. As a reader, you have to do the work of interpreting the story and reflecting upon it, rather than expecting the author to tell you everything you should know in a direct manner. So, as I was translating, I tried to stay away from overstating or over-explaining; I wanted my reader in English to have that same experience. I appreciate that Stridsberg doesn’t make things easy on you as a reader; she gives you the feeling that she believes in you and she knows you’re up for a meaningful experience.
ELB: Did Beatrice Alemagna’s art inform your translation? Tangentially, do you have a favorite spread?
BJW: Oh yes, when translating picture books, I think you have to always study the words, the images, and the relationship between them. In a really good picture book, something interesting happens in the space where the text and the illustrations meet. One of my favorite spreads is Beatrice Alemagna’s image of the girl on the swing towards the end, because there are so many ways to read that picture. You could look at it as her swinging from the clouds rather than the tree, or the tree could appear to be a face in profile, and also you can see the chains on the swing but not the seat, and you can’t see any grass or earth, so the girl seems very free, which reflects the story well.
ELB: Do you have a favorite memory of going to the park?
BJW: As an only child who went to school in an area of Chicago quite far from where I lived, I didn’t really have friends in my neighborhood. So, I often played alone in parks and I made up stories and just went into my own world, while my parents might have been sitting in the car, reading or working. I felt unseen and solitary, but this was not something that bothered me, and it has probably led me indirectly to the person I am now and the career I have. Now, I have two children and I love to see them together, imagining stories in playgrounds, sometimes even the same kinds of ones I did, such as pretending to be running a restaurant or making up obstacle courses.
ELB: What do you think the main differences are between Swedish and American picture books? Do you think that as countries or cultures, we view books or childhood differently?
BJW: I think there’s a lot more openness in Sweden about topics that are considered to be hard—death, grief or sorrow, sex, identity, danger, that sort of thing—whereas we are more protective of children in English-speaking cultures and rely on euphemism and avoidance as our strategies when it comes to the difficult or painful.
So, I’ve certainly had English-language editors change phrases or situations or images in picture books that I’ve translated, because they feel that that’s what’s right for their audience. I personally don’t make such changes when I’m translating, and I always encourage my editors to talk to the original authors to discuss any such issues and to get their approval of any changes. I love that sort of conversation, because it really honors the author to explore their work in such detail.
As a parent, I have more of a Scandinavian attitude, in that I think that if something exists in the world, children have the right to learn about it and talk about it. And as a translator, I don’t change the culture or the characters—I’m not shifting a book from Sweden to, say, the United States—but I do try to reflect the original in a way that makes sense to my readers.
ELB: Is there anything else you’d like to share about We Go to the Park, picture books, or translation?
BJW: I consider myself incredibly lucky to be a translator. I get to make books available to a new audience, and I find that thrilling. I’m especially passionate about children’s books, because I think children are the most important readers of all, and I find picture books to be an exciting challenge, as I have to pay close attention to the words and the images, and to how they work together.
And now… B.J. Woodstein answers Enchanted Lion’s Ten Questions!
1. Tell us one favorite word, in Swedish and English.
This is just like when people ask me about my favorite books: the answer is always changing. I feel drawn to (or repulsed by) different words, books, films, etc. at various times, depending on what else is going on in my life.
2. What about least favorite words?
See my previous answer—it’s always changing.
3. Do you have any real-life heroes?
I try not to put people on a pedestal, but I do admire those who help others and who make a difference while also taking care of themselves.
4. What qualities do you most admire?
Kindness. The world needs more kindness and generosity of spirit. I think everything else would improve if we all treated ourselves and one another better.
5. If you weren’t a translator, what would you most like to do?
I have a patchwork quilt career, so I already do a number of things (besides translation, I write, lecture, work as a doula and lactation consultant, and do some consulting work). When I was young, I also wanted to act, but as I have to perform the role of the character or the author when I translate, I suppose I’ve managed that in a way, too.
6. Do you have a life motto?
No. My main aims in life are to try to be a kind person (though of course I’m an imperfect human, so I regularly fail) and to contribute to society, so all my choices are guided by that to whatever extent possible.
7. Are rituals part of your creative process?
I walk every day (even though our dog makes that a necessity, I find it helps me then focus on my work), and I stand, rather than sit, at my computer. I am not the type of person to wait for the muse to find me; rather, I get to work and expect inspiration to meet me there.
8. What does procrastination look like for you?
I have to confess that I’m not a procrastinator. I like working, and I like being efficient. I set myself targets, and I treat myself with a piece of dark chocolate when I’ve met them!
9. How would you describe your monsters?
I’m the main monster in my life, and I actively work to deal with that.
10. What is your idea of earthly success? Of happiness?
If my children know they are loved and appreciated for who they are, then I will deem my life a success. If I’ve contributed in some small way to making the world a better place, then that’s a bonus. I’m happiest when I’m with my children and my wife—there’s nothing better than that for me.