Eating the Void

Today I went to visit a neighbor across the street who has a big shesek tree in her front yard, which is currently laden with ripe fruit. While biting into a juicy, sweet shesek, I had a true translator moment. I realized that I was eating a cultural void!

I know that shesek can be accurately translated into English as loquat. But lexical precision does not fill the cultural void, because in the part of the world I live in, shesek are ubiquitous and unremarkable, while in most parts of the Western world, they are exotic, if not unknown. The word "shesek" means something very specific to those who use it, while the word "loquat" is meaningless to most readers of US English.

Let's say I was translating a Hebrew story that casually mentions a man who ate a shesek. If I translate it to say that the man ate a loquat, readers may begin imagining him eating kumquats or loganberries or pawpaws, or whatever irrelevant tropical fruit association comes to mind. In addition, the mention of this mysterious fruit may add a hint of exoticism to the story which the author did not intend. The author did not mean the episode of the loquat to be at all evocative or remarkable.

In such a case, I, as the translator, may decide to avoid the void.

I may well take the license to write that the man ate an apple or pear.

I call that eating the void...

And this particular void tastes really good.