This is a translation and summary of this document by Yuval Kafir in which he defends the “new” translation of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings from its detractors, who prefer the “old” translation. Anything in [square brackets] is by me, the translator, Mark Shoulson. I have used {curly braces} for the one or two times wherein Kafir uses square brackets to annotate a quote. Some paragraphs and sections have been omitted.
As we know, there are two Hebrew editions of the book Lord of the Rings by Tolkien: the old translation by Ruth Livnit, and the new edition, which was created with Livnit’s translation as a base, by Emmanuel Lotem.
Since the old translation was published in 1979, and the new edition only came out in 1998, most Israeli Tolkien fans came to know Lord of the Rings via the old translation. Today [April 2002], the vast majority of websites dealing with J.R.R. Tolkien and his creation use terms from this translation. Most of them also include the unequivocal exhortation to read Lord of the Rings only in the old translation, and in no way to acquire or read the new translation, because in their opinion the old translation is preferable to it in its style and quality. In the old translation there are, indeed, many errors, the authors of these sites admit—but the new translation is no less faulty, they claim, and even falls short of the old translation’s mark in many fields.
But when one comes to check just what the mistakes are that were made in the two translations, and to compare them, it becomes clear that the quantity of errors, omissions, and distortions in old translation is infinitely greater than the quantity and severity of the errors in the new edition, to the extent that there are any. Fans of the old translation, I believe, are simply adhering to their “childhood teaching,” and refuse to judge the new translation fairly.
In this article I will detail some of the errors and shortcomings of the old translation, describe the main complaints which have been raised against the new edition, and I will show that the new edition is indeed a corrected and improved edition, and preferable to the old one.
How did I come to write this article? Well, it is no secret that I prefer the new edition to the old one. In fact, I was involved in its preparation. But even before that I believed that the old translation was an error-filled and inaccurate one. I started to suspect this while reading the book for the first time in Hebrew, and the extent of the inaccuracy became clear to me when I read the book in English two years later.
From the information available today in Israeli Tolkien sites on the web one would get the impression that the new edition is a defective and unworthy edition of Lord of the Rings. Since it is my opinion that the opposite was true, I wanted to balance the picture by presenting the two editions in a different light, and to try to convince the Hebrew reader that he would be better off reading the new Hebrew edition of this exemplary work (or the original, if his mastery of English is good!), if he wants to recognize truly the magical world of J.R.R. Tolkien.
My name is Yuval Kafir(?), born in 1966. I received The Fellowship of the Ring in Ruth Livnit’s translation for my Bar-Mitzvah, and fell in love with the book and Tolkien’s creation. Two years later my father brought me a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring and The Silmarillion [in English] from London, and so began the tale of my disappointment with the old translation, especially when I discovered that the appendices had been missing from it.
Out of a fear that The Silmarillion’s fate would be like that of Lord of the Rings, I started working on a translation of that book at the same time (about age 15). I never finished that task, since after a few years I learned that Dr Emmanuel Lotem was working on a translation of The Silmarillion into Hebrew. I made contact with him, which led to my participation in the translation as an editor and advisor.
To my great joy, Emmanuel Lotem invited me to assist him also in editing the corrected edition of Lord of the Rings in Hebrew. I assisted him regarding several doubts, went over the corrected translation with a fine-toothed comb [lit. “with seven eyes (or fourteen, if glasses count as double)”], and was on the whole pleased with the result. Therefore, in several places in this article, when I adopt the first-person plural, I mean “we” as in Mr Lotem and myself. I permitted myself to use this plural in many places where I feel I was a partner to the act (or omission). In places where I was not a partner of where I do not agree with Emmanuel Lotem I did not join myself to him.
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Before I begin a sketch of the shortcomings of the old Hebrew edition, I want to make it clear that I am not here to attack personally the translators of the edition (the translator of the poems Uriel Ofek (of blessed memory) and (distinguished for long life) Mrs. Ruth Livnit), or to deal with them in any personal manner at all. I am trying to deal only with the Hebrew translation of Lord of the Rings, and with the mistakes therein. I have no intent to discern why these mistakes were made, nor to claim, heaven forbid, malicious intent, negligence, or deception on the part of the translators. I only want to show that the errors exist, that they are many in number, and that they are fixed in the new edition.
This sketch is only partial: I checked carefully only the first chapters of Fellowship of the Ring, and I also went over the first chapters of The Two Towers, and a few other places. I have no doubt that a more detailed examination of the whole book would reveal more mistakes, if a partial examination turned up so many errors in a few sample chapters. In fact, I won’t even detail here all the mistakes that I have already found.
Whenever I quote the old translation, I will be using the vocalization of the printed edition verbatim. In the new edition the vocalization of names is always “full,” and I have not found in it any errors—and therefore I will for the most part skip over it. In the old edition the vocalization is mainly partial.... [Partial pointing] is therefore not an error of omission on my part—that is how it is in print.
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There are no Appendices: In the English edition of Lord of the Rings there were six appendices included with the book, and they contained much and varied information about the the world which Tolkien created. These appendices were not translated in the old translations, and even its fans who swear by the old translation admit that their lack is a substantial flaw.
In order to get a feeling for the extent of the loss, it is worthwhile to note that the appendices take up almost half the pages in the third volume of Lord of the Rings. (footnote: I remember well my moment of “discovery” of the appendices, when I bought the third volume in English, and even before I opened it I was surprised to see that it was thicker than the first volume—in the old Hebrew edition, the third volume was the thinnest. My surprise turned to shock when I saw what was in that sudden “thickness.”) We are talking here about dropping more than 10% of the content of the original book! In these appendices there is information on the history of the world of Lord of the Rings, (brief histories of Númenor, Gondor, Arnor, and Rohan, lists of dynasties of various kings, and more), details of important dates (including the events after the end of the events of Lord of the Rings and what befell the main characters!), family trees of the Hobbits, a description of their calendar, information on the chief languages, and also rules of pronunciation, transcription, and translation. All these are missing from the old edition, and it appears that the translators ignored them, although it is not clear why. It is, however, clear that had the translator read these appendices, especially Appendix E which contains the rules of pronunciation and transcription, several errors like “Tseleborn” and “Izildur” would have been prevented.
Moreover: we can determine with a high level of certainty that Ruth Livnit did not understand J.R.R. Tolkien’s world when she translated Lord of the Rings. One of the proofs is the faulty translation, in two places, of the word “Valar,” which describes the “gods”: in one place the word is translated as “rider” [The Two Towers, near the end of “Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit,” the phrase “May the Valar turn him aside” comes out more as “may [its] rider turn it aside.”]. In another place, as a place-name (“like great Oromë in battle upon Valar”, III,98). In the third place the source reads “while the thrones of the Valar endure,” which is translated “...and the throne of the Valar will be established forever!” (III,220). From here one could guess that “Valar” was a personal name in plural, and one could at least have fixed the “rider” translation in the previous volume, but this was not done.
Even in Appendix A, which is short and very succinct in this matter, the Valar are described as “guardians of the world”—not to mention The Silmarillion, which had already been published in English at the time when Livnit translated Lord of the Rings. In short, a large portion of the mistakes in the old translation would have been prevented if the translator had studied a little more in depth into Tolkien’s books before starting the task of translation.
The End of the Introduction is Missing: The last paragraph in the foreword to Lord of the Rings is supposed to be “A Note on the Records of the Shire,” and in it is an explanation of the writing of the Red Book of Westmarch, which is the putative source of Lord of the Rings. In the old translation this paragraph is omitted.
Faulty Maps: Many place-names are missing or have been moved from their locations in the map of the Shire attached to the first volume in the old translation. Bywater, Hobbiton, The Hill—all these have been moved from their correct positions. Overhill is missing entirely, as is Haysend, the name of Stockbrook and many other place-names. Newbury in Buckland has changed to Norbury (which is the English name of Fornost, the northern royal city, which is in fact located far north of the Shire).
In the map of the Shire in the new edition the name of Waymoot west of Hobbiton has been dropped, but other than that the map is faithful to the source.
Also the big maps look like they were copied on a cheap photocopier and then fixed up with Tip-Ex. The full map of Middle Earth was attached only to the first volume, while the second and third volumes included parts not necessarily relevant for those volumes. Thus for example a map of the Shire was attached to the second volume, even though that is the only volume in which no event occurring in the Shire is mentioned.
In fairness, it should be noted that specifically regarding the big map there is no clear advantage to the new edition, due to printing problems. It is true that in this edition the map was redrawn afresh, the names were fixed, and use of two colors was made—but in the printing the red was moved relative to the black. More than that, the whole map was printed on two facing pages, and also on the join between the pages. The result is a map that is not necessarily more readable than that of the old edition, unfortunately. This is not the case regarding the map of the Shire or the big map of Gondor and Mordor, which are definitely preferable in the new edition. Only the big map is flawed.
In addition to this, the name of the Kingdom of Angmar was dropped from the big map in the new edition, although the names of Arthedain, Rhudaur and Cardolan were added, and other details which were missing in the old map. In the old map also the name "Hoarwell" is not mentioned, while the river Greyflood became "The Great River"—a name which is specific to the river Anduin.
The Name of the Third Volume: The third volume’s title is The Return of the King [shuvo shel hamelekh] in the old edition, but in the page headers it shows as When the King Returns [b’shuv hamelekh. Either is actually an okay translation]. A small detail, true, but it would seem to demonstrate a lack of proofreading.
On p.17 [vol.I] the section telling about the black plague(????), the long winter, and the difficult times which have afflicted the Hobbits of the Shire has been omitted entirely.
On p.127 [vol.I] two lines are omitted, in which Merry cries that the tree is threatening to crush him completely.
In The Two Towers on p.39, the phrase describing Aragorn rising from his place to the mysterious old man in Fangorn forest, and the disappearance of the old man, is missing.
All the names starting with Ce-, Ci- are wrong: Celeborn is written “Tseleborn,” Celebdil became “Tselebdil,” etc. The correct spelling is Keleborn, Kelebdil, as explained in Appendix E in the source. The combination ch became ts' [pronounced like ch in "church" in Hebrew, in foreign words] instead of a HET or a soft KAF...
Samwise Gamgee becomes “Sam-the-wise Gamggee” [i.e., with both G’s hard]. First of all, the correct transliteration is Gamjee. Second of all, “Samwise” is a name whose meaning is “half-wise,” that is to say, essentially, half-stupid—just the opposite of “Sam the wise.”
Buckland became ... “Bookland” in the body of the text [and spelled differently on the map]. Bucklebury became “Bookelberry” [two differently-pointed versions in the text]. This is a bad transliteration (should be “Bahklberry”)—there is no “Bookingham Palace” in London, for example.
In this case we made a distinction in the new edition between names from the Shire (whose pronunciation is like that of modern English in all respects—for instance, Buckland is Bahklend) and names of the Rohirrim (whose pronunciation leans more toward old English—for example Mundburg is Moondboorg). This relies on the advice of Tolkien himself, who explained that the Rohirric names are in origin Old English names.
Norbury became Norvury—the lack of the dot in the BET is very significant here [the word was left partly pointed, and one of the points left out was the dot that makes the BET have its hard sound]
The Mountains of Lune became The Mountains of Luna. Bree became Brey.
Ithilien, an Elvish name meaning “land of the moon,” changed to Ithiliah. Its corresponding partner on the other side of the river, Anorien, stayed Anorien (with the correct transliteration), and so did Lothlórien. Halifirien on the border of Rohan—an old English name—became Halifiriah.
Isildur became Izildur (the s retains its /s/ sound since it’s originally an Elvish name). The lack of pointing here led many people to pronounce the name as Izildor.
Dúnedain became doonadayn, Argeleb became arglav, and Arvedui became arveeduy.
Gladden Fields was translated “the fields of Gladden.” Gladden means gladiolas, the flowers, so one should translate "the fields of gladiolas."
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Silvan[sic] Elves is translated to “the people of Silvan” Silvan is an English word meaning “pertaining to trees or forests”—thus, Silvan Elves are Elves of the Forest.
One of the complaints against the new edition is that there are “stylistically surprising changes.” And yet it is in the old edition, which is mostly written in flowery Hebrew, that one can find instances of jarring style due to the use of words and terms which do not belong in a translation like this. Here are a few examples:
Magia [for “magic”]—a jarring foreign word, Kishuf would be better.
...
On p.33 we see “a big letter G” which could just as easily have been “a big letter GIMEL” without detracting from the translation. On the contrary, the reading “Give greatness to G” [used instead of “G for Grand”] sounds much better in Hebrew as “Give greatness to GIMEL.” Also the explanation of the symbols in Elvish writing is wrong (it is not clear which symbol is in which writing system [I think this refers to Tolkien’s distinction between “runes” and “letters”]).
...
Modern words, not fitting in with the general formal style: ... “reports” [about as modern-sounding as “updates” would be, in either language], “chips”
Another complaint against the new edition is that it suffers from too literal a translation, that is that it adheres to the English original to the extent that it spoils the Hebrew. Here are some examples of literal translation in the old version:
Gandalf threatens Bilbo, “... then you shall see Gandalf the Grey without his coat on,” in the original “uncloaked,” that is, with no obscuring veil, or “in his full might.” “Without his coat on” is a literal translation and a metaphor that does not exist in Hebrew.
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Pippin refers to Merry as “Merry the aged and good!” and to Aragorn as “the aged Strider.” In the original, of course, it’s “Good old Merry!” and “old Strider,” an expression which always presents a problem when translated literally, as here.... The meaning of the word “old” here is as a term of endearment or esteem, or at most “old friend.”
Some of the names of the Hobbits were translated into Hebrew, others were left as they were. This creates a grating mishmash. “Representatives of the house of Boros, Bolgger, Brayssgirdle, Brokhouse, Goodbody, Proudfoot and Trumpeter.” In the original it discussed “a selection of Burrowses, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Brockhouses, Goodbodies, Hornblowers and Proudfoots.” All of these names have a meaning in Hebrew, but only the last two were translated. Apart from that, the transliteration of Bolger should be Boljer. It’s interesting to note that in the introduction, “Tovold Hornblower [transliterated] from Longbottom” [looks like the dot is missing here too] is mentioned, but he has changed to be “Tovold Trumpeter” [translated] in The Two Towers. Even if there is some justification to the translation of of the names “Trumpeter” and “Proudfoot” for the sake of the wordplay in them, a similar justification exists to translate names like “Merry”, “Sackville-Baggins”, and “Brandywine” which also have wordplay in them—but these names were not translated.
The name of Barliman Butterbur also undergoes a strange transformation to “Barliman (the) Butterman”: the personal name was transliterated, but the surname was translated wrongly. Butterbur is a term for a flower found in England... and Barliman is Barley-man, i.e. man of barley (a fitting name for an innkeeper who serves beer).
It is true that later in the story there is wordplay regarding the “butter” in Butterbur’s name, but there is also the paragraph p.164, “The men of Bree were given, apparently, names related to plants, like .... (not to mention Butterman).” Including the name “Butterman” in the list of names from the vegetable kingdom arouses surprise. And the wordplay could have been changed so it made sense....
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The name of the river Loudwater is translated in one place as “river-of-loud-waters,” but the river Hoarwell nearby it (both in location and in the text) remains “the river Hoarwell [transliterated].” In the continuation, “Loudwater” appears transliterated now, in two different ways. (In the new edition, the names of these rivers have been translated, as have in fact all the place-names outside of the Shire, Bree, and Rohan, except one: Rivendell, “the split valley” or “meadow in the depths of the crevice” according to Appendix F. This name remained “Rivendell,” because we could not find a translation into Hebrew that was more pleasing to the ear and the eye—and that’s a shame.)
The Greenway... goes through several incarnations. From “the River Greenway” on p.21, through “the green path” on p.159 et seq., until the one-time appearance of “the green way” in RotK p.243.
Minas Tirith is written as Minas Thirith all through the first volume, and becomes Minas Tirith in the following volumes—and Minias Tirith in one place (III, p.15)
In several cases in LotR there are sentences or ideas which repeat themselves in different places. Some of these were translated in an inconsistent manner, such that the reader misses the repetition, and all it implies.
One example is Boromir’s cry after he tried to rob Frodo of the Ring forcibly. “What have I said? What have I done?”... Frodo said the exact same things, word for word, after he exploded at Sam when he rescued him from captivity in Cirith Ungol, but it is translated [differently, with a different word for “done”]
Even a clear repetition, almost word for word, of a section that was already written, is not retained completely: in the foothills of Emyn Muil Frodo recalls his conversation with Gandalf by the hearth in Bag End. In the source there is a nearly exact repetition of phrases, but in the translation there is a difference between the two texts that is greater than necessary: “Too bad? It wasn’t too bad that mercy stopped him” versus “Indeed? It is not bad that mercy stayed his hand.” And other differences that are not in the original.
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... In Galadriel’s song she asks “Will a ship take me home joyfully?” (in the original, “What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?”). When the travelers meet Saruman on their way back north, he mocks Galadriel with the words “And where is the ship that would carry you back across the sea?” In the original, he uses the same words as in the song, except for changing me→you.
The expression “One Ring” appears in big letters in the original ring-poem, because it’s talking about The One Ring, which is the most central object in the story—but in the translation of the poem there is no mention of “The One Ring” or “One Ring”
Ambiguity that is lost: when Saruman asks Théoden “Shall we have peace...?” Théoden answers him “We will have peace” three times—and then makes it clear that he means that the Rohirrim will have peace, not peace between Saruman and Théoden. But in the Hebrew translation, it isn’t just that the repetition of the words isn’t exact, also the double-meaning of “we will have peace” is lost: “Will there arise a treaty of peace and friendship between me and you?” asks Saruman. And Théoden replies: “There will be peace between us.... Indeed, there will be peace between us,... There will be peace after you and your works are extinct” etc. If Théoden means that there will be peace after Saruman is destroyed, why does he say “there will be peace between us” at the beginning?
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In addition to the mistakes listed in this article which have their origin in the translations of the poems (and I have by no means listed all of them), there are several other problems with the translations of the poems in the old edition.
Lack of consistency: many terms and names are translated differently in the poems than they are in the prose. Most prominent is of course the word “Elf” and its various translations, but there are also examples like [different spellings of the transliteration of Lórien] and others which I have noted in other paragraphs.
Loss of alliteration: the poems of the Rohirrim, for the most part, are not written in the original in the usual rhyming style that is normal these days, but in an alliterative style. That is, a style in which there is a repetition of one or two particular consonants in each line, especially at the beginnings of words. So for example “From dark Dunharrow in the dim morning” in which the letter d rings (as does the letter r).
In the Hebrew translation in the old edition, although rhymes were not introduced into poems which did not have them, the alliteration was also lost, in most places.
Censorship?: in Sam’s song about the troll... a strange “censorship” seems to have happened. In the original, the end of the song describes how Tom kicked the troll’s backside, but since a troll’s behind is hard as rock, Tom limped from that day on. But in the Hebrew translation, Tom kicks the air and loses his shoe (how?) and thus is barefoot from then on. The change is not forced by the rhythm of the song or the description of the event, and even detracts from the point of the humorous song. In my opinion the translator erred in understanding the English original, or else decided to “clean up” the song so as not to deal with the troll’s buttocks. In any case the translation ends up losing.
“the multiplying of Men in the land” is translated as “the culture of Men in the land” [I think this is because of the root for “many” being in the word for “culture”]
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“The war of the armies” mentioned on p.57 was in fact the “Battle of Five Armies” described in The Hobbit.
Frodo’s cry “Why would he want such slaves?” is translated “Why would we want to be enslaved?”
[the Ring-inscription is translated with the wrong gender for "them", implying that the Ring is to rule over the Elven-kings, Dwarf-lords and Mortal Men, and it is supposed to mean that the Ring rules the other rings.]
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Gandalf begins to tell Frodo of the history of the Ring, and says to him “This is all that I will say.” In the translation, “Only this can I tell you” [lit. “only this is in my hand to say to you”]—and that isn’t so. Gandalf could, if he wanted, tell Frodo much more. He did not say “all I can say,” but “all I will say,” and the difference is great.
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The expression “In a far land beyond the Sea,” which refers to Middle-Earth, is translated “across the sea, on a remote island.” The same song ends with the words “your(masc.pl.) star which shone.” But Elbereth and Gilthoniel are not two different people, but two of the names of Varda—that is, it should be “your(fem.sing.) star” or more accurately, “your(fem.sing.) stars,” since Varda created the stars.
Gildor says to Frodo “But it is not your own Shire,” that is, the Shire does not belong to you. But in the translation: “The Shire is not only ours.” What has Gildor to do with the Shire?
On p.115 the Hobbits sing, before leaving, “Goodbye we say to the house of the lord”—which lord are they talking about? In the original: “Farewell we call to hearth and hall.” And later on, “To Rivendell, atop the hill, the Elf-city in the mist.” Rivendell is in a deep valley, not on top of a hill, and is not a city but a lonely house, more or less. [Looks like the translation got elaborate for the sake of rhyme, but got elaborate in the wrong ways].
On p.17 a footnote is added to the word “Orcs”: “a tribe of shedim” [demons, devils, etc. The word that the old translation and the Hobbit used to translate “goblin”]. Not only is the translation inaccurate, this note doesn’t even appear in the original, and it is customary in such a case to note “(the translators)” or some such abbreviation.
On p.38, Bilbo’s congested greeting in Esgaroth, “thag you very buch,” is not translated at all. Instead it says “I was so choked up that my words of greeting could not be heard.” In fairness I will note that here we too, in the new edition, could have done better. Instead of translating afresh (“dodah rabah v’ched-ched”), it would have been better, in my opinion, if we had used Moshe Naami’s version [from his translation of The Hobbit] (“ʾadi bodeh lakheb b’ʾod”). It’s too bad that we didn’t think of it in time. Still, some translation of the congestion is better than ignoring it.
On p.60 it says “This is the ring which was lost many generations ago, and its power has greatly diminished as a result.” But in the original is written “to the great weakening of his power,” that is, it is the might of Sauron that was diminished, not that of the Ring. [another gender problem: they needed to use masculine for Sauron, but they used feminine, which refers to the Ring].
Where did Sauron hide after his defeat at the end of the Second Age? In the original it says “[Sauron’s] spirit fled and was hidden for long years, until his shadow took shape again in Mirkwood.” But in the translation it says “and his spirit fled and hid for many years in Mirkwood.” In the original the place where Sauron hid is not explained.
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On p.89 Frodo says “these are mountain Elves! They bear the name of Elvereth!” Add the missing dot [to make the BET hard], [and still, the translation refers to Elbereth in masculine], but Elbereth is feminine: Varda, the partner of Manwë—as is written on p.389 of the very same book: “Varda is the name of the Lady whom the Elves in exile call Elbereth.” A gender-change of Elbereth appears also on p.94, where Gildor says to Frodo “May Elbereth keep(masc) you.” And “mountain-Elves” is a mistaken translation for “High Elves,” that is, noble Elves.
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On p.235 it says that Arwen is called Undómiel “because she was as the rising morning star to her people.” But in the original is “Evenstar,” the evening star... which is the exact opposite of the rising morning star, despite the fact that it is the same planet (Venus). Arwen does not foreshadow the dawn of the Elves! She foreshadows their dusk, and the difference is huge.
In the chapter “The Great River” on p.405 it says “Look and see Tol Brandir!... On its left stands Amon L’hav and to its right stands Amon Hein.... In the days of the great kings there was a throne there... since then the foot of man or beast has not trodden on the soil of Tol Brandir.” But in the original, “In the days of the great kings there were high seats upon them.... But... no foot of man or beast has ever been set on Tol Brandir.” That is, it wasn’t on Tol Brandir that the high seats were (not thrones, actually), but rather on Amon Lhaw and Amon Hen—and on Tol Brandir no human or animal foot had trodden ever, not just since the days of the kings. We should also notice that the transliterations of Lhaw and Hen are wrong.
The name of the opening chapter of The Two Towers is “Boromir’s Demise.” In the original “The Departure of Boromir,” which does not give away the fact that Boromir is going to die during the chapter—but in the translation it’s enough to see the title of the chapter to know right away just how Boromir “departs.”
In the chapter “The White Rider” Gandalf says to Gimli, “One day maybe we’ll go out to battle together [lit. ‘one shoulder’, working together] and then you can judge me!” And in the original the wizard says “Maybe you will see us both together one day and judge between us!”—that is, maybe someday you will see us (Gandalf and Saruman) together and you can judge (the resemblance) between us yourself. There is no reference to battle or combat in the original.
In the second volume, in the chapter “The Taming of Sméagol,” Sam... explains to Frodo that he knows about ropes and knots because his Uncle Andy “used to walk on a tight rope every year at the Tatefield Fair.” And what’s the connection... with expertise in rope-making? The answer is found in the source: there Sam says about his uncle that he “had a rope-walk over by Tighfield many a year.” Even if we ignore the corruption of the place-name (Tighfield), we find in the dictionary that “rope-walk” is a field for braiding ropes—that is, Sam’s uncle had been a rope-maker, not a performer at a fair (of which there is no mention in the original). Besides that, “many a year” means “for many years,” not “every year.”
From the words of Faramir to Frodo the reader is liable to conclude that Anarion had no descendents: “And the last king of the line, Anarion, left no heir.” In the original “And the last king of the line of Anarion left no heir.” That is, the commas in the translation are superfluous, and change the whole meaning of the sentence.
In the explanation of the history of Shelob we are told that she “is of the sort of monster that Beren fought against in the terror-mountains of Doriath, on a moonlit light, and thus she came, long ago, to the fields of Lórien.” What does Shelob have to do with Lórien, or even Doriath?
In the original it says “...such as Beren fought in the Mountains of Terror in Doriath, and so came to Lúthien upon the green sward amid the hemlocks in the moonlight long ago.” That is, Beren (not Shelob) came to Lúthien (not Lórien) by the light of the moon long ago. The story was already mentioned earlier, in The Fellowship of the Ring.
In the English original, there are clear differences in style between the speaking mannerisms of the various characters. For example, Aragorn, Frodo, Sam, Gollum, Uglúk—each of them has a distinct speaking style, different from the others. Aragorn speaks standard and “high” English, with rarer words and a higher register. Frodo also speaks standard and clean English, but not as high as Aragorn’s. Sam Gamgee uses folk expressions more, although the English from him is also standard most of the time. Uglúk uses very simple, basic language most of the time, while Gollum corrupts his speech many times.
But in the old edition, there is no hint of these differences in style—even Gollum’s corrupted speech is mostly corrected to proper Hebrew! It is hard to show examples of these things, especially because we are dealing with a word-stock which is different in “feel” from the language spoken by the characters, but even so I will bring a few quotes from The Two Towers that demonstrate what I mean:
p.298, “My heart would rejoice within me to see you sleep a little”—the speaker is Sam, who, apart from isolated cases of elevation of the soul does not use, in the original, words like, for example “rejoice” (which would be the English equivalent [of the Hebrew expression used here]). In the original he says “I’d be dearly glad to see you have a sleep”—particularly the words “have a sleep” in this sentence are a clumsy expression, the sort of language that is characteristic of Sam Gamgee.
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p.201: in Gollum’s speech appear the expressions “We hates them” and “We wants it.” In the translation there is no remnant of these grammatical mistakes (which are very common with Gollum): “We hate them”, “we want it.” Besides that, the word [used for “we” is apparently too high-register for Gollum’s speech, as opposed to a more common term]—it fits, perhaps, the speech of Sméagol, that is, Gollum before his fall, but definitely not the wicked Gollum.
More than that, on p.240 Sam himself imitates Gollum’s speech, at least in the original: “if they asks” says Gollum, and Sam says “I does ask... I begs.” But in the translation [the conversation is perfectly grammatical and ordinary.] Sam’s whole “descent” to Gollum is lost.
...
Apart from these there is the speech of the village hobbits in the Shire, in the Fellowship of the Ring, which also has errors that are not translated. “Eleventy-first birthday” is translated “his birthday [number] one hundred and eleven,” and not only is the error of “eleventy” not preserved, but there’s a mistake in Hebrew too—[the numbers used are of the wrong gender.] It appears that the mistake is not intended: on pp.38-38 the expression “eleventy” recurs, and there it is translated into proper standard Hebrew, with no mistakes. The usages of “drownded” and “jools” were translated simply [into the usual words in Hebrew]. In general, the style of Old Noakes, Daddy Twofoot, and the Old Gaffer (Sam’s father) in this section is, as usual, too high and formal relative to the common, folk source.
As someone who is not an expert on literature or languages, it may be that I was a little too hard in harping on the above examples. But this one thing is clear: someone who reads the words of the village hobbits, or even those of Uglúk or Gollum, in the old Hebrew edition, gets the impression that all these cases deal with educated and formal people, or at least a formal description, and a bit puffed-up. Someone who reads these words in the English original sees immediately that before him are simple villagers, an ordinary person, a rude soldier or a pathetic and low creature, according to the situation—without even needing to pay attention to the content of the words. The style and relative standing just scream out from the speech-style.
God gets into the picture: Tolkien avoided, from the outset, any mention of God in LotR. The word “God” appears only once in the book—and there it is in the expression “a god,” that is one of the gods, not The God. In the old Hebrew edition God comes into the book several times: “Great God!” on pp.95,113 (translation of “Good Heavens!”), “For the Name [of God]’s sake” on p.179 (in the original “Bless me!”), and also “May God bless you” on p.72—in the original there it’s “Lor bless you”; the fact that “Lor” and not “Lord” is written demonstrates that Tolkien was careful even here not to mention God, even in a trite linguistic expression. There is no place for religion in LotR (the closes thing to it is the ritual that Faramir and his men perform before their meal), and therefore these relationships to God, as also to “uncircumcised” (RotK p.113 [have to look this one up; it’s Hebrew for “heathen” in the broader not-necessarily-religious sense too]) are not in order.
The disappearence of the Elessar: Elessar is one of Aragorn’s names, the name under which he was coronated, in the High Elvish tongue (Quenya). The meaning of the name is “Elf-stone,” and he is called that because of the precious stone, which apparently had healing properties (as told in Unfinished Tales), which Galadriel bestowed on him in Lothlórien. In the book there are many relationships to the Elf-stone and to the description of Aragorn, but in the old edition a large part of them were simply lost.
So for example in Bilbo’s song about Eärendil on p.242, Eärendil’s gear is described, and carbuncles, red rubies, diamonds and more are mentioned. On p.246, Bilbo tells Frodo that “Aragorn insisted on including carbuncles. Why it was so important to him I don’t know.” And indeed, why would Aragorn insist on carbuncles, which are red? The answer is clear in the original—there Bilbo says to Frodo that Aragorn insisted on including a green stone and thus in the song an emerald is mentioned, that is, a bareket [modern Hebrew for emerald or agate]. And now the reason is clear: this is a reference to Aragorn’s Elf-stone.
Earlier than this the Elf-stone is mentioned in the book—in the chapter “Flight to the Ford” on p.211. There, Strider finds a green precious stone on the bridge of the Mitheithel(????), and explains to the hobbits, “It is a beryl, an elf-stone.” In the old edition is written “This is an emerald [bareket] of the Elves, which is called Beryl [transliterated].” “Beryl” is not one of Tolkien’s words—it is a beryl stone [“tarshish”], and not an emerald.
When Galadriel bestows the Elessar to Aragorn, she say (in the original) that from now he would bear the name that was foretold for him—Elessar, the Elf-stone of the house of Elendil. In the old edition it says here “Elessar, prince of the Elves, heir of the house of Elendil.” Later on, this title changes to “Rock of the Elves” [the word “Rock” as in “Rock of Ages”]—e.g. p.404. But Aragorn is not a “prince of the Elves,” he is a Man who is to rule only over Men. He also isn’t the “Rock of the Elves,” for all that such a title sounds mighty and impressive: “Rock” isn’t just a stone, or a precious stone (which is what the Elessar is)—it’s a big boulder, or metaphorically, someone in whom people trust and lean on, and in particular it is one of the terms for God in Judaism.
It is possible to claim that the Elves hung many hopes on Aragorn, but it is hard to believe that they would relate to him with a near-godly expression like “Rock of the Elves”—bear in mind that he represented for them also the end of their era, one way or another, and the beginning of the rule of Men in Middle-Earth. In any event, Elfstone in the original does not even hint at the divine meaning of “Rock,” and the use of this word—grandiose as it may be—disrupts the connection between the title of Aragorn and the Elf-stone which he carries.
Since this article deals with which Hebrew translation of LotR is the more correct (or the less wrong), I will begin by saying that in the new Hebrew edition of LotR all the errors and misinterpretations listed above were fixed, along with many others which I did not note.
And still, as I wrote in the introduction, it is possible to find on Israeli websites several articles which claim that the new translation (edited by Emmanuel Lotem) is an inaccurate and careless edition. I will plainly say: there are indeed, to my knowledge (and to my great consternation) mistakes in the new edition. There is room to improve it. But despite that, the new edition is more correct and accurate than the old one, and this is due to two main reasons:
First, almost all the “mistakes” found in the new edition are a matter of interpretation and style. Only a few of them are “factual” errors, of the more severe sorts that I listed above (factually incorrect translation, misunderstanding of the original, omissions, or corruption of the original). All the rest are, for the most part, a matter of taste and preference.
Second, even if we will say, for the sake of argument, that “mistakes” of interpretation are as important as mistakes of understanding the source and translating it—still, a full list of the mistakes in the new edition would not even be half as long as the partial list of mistakes in the old edition, shown above.
I am not intending here to answer all the complaints against the new edition (footnote: in particular, I do not intend to deal with the pseudonym “Lotem’s Deep” [as in Helm’s], who attributes malicious intent and hidden motives to Mr Lotem (and thus by implication to me—his partner-in-crime), apart from dealing with the word “Deep” itself), but I will definitely sketch to the best of my ability those which were raised in the appendix to the “Petition for the Return of the Livnit Translation to the Shelves." This appendix (“The Appendix to the Petition” hereafter) purports to detail the main points of the mistakes in the new edition, and in its words “to refute... the claim of greater accuracy of the new edition and its claim of being free of errors”; I will describe, thus, the errors which the appendix to the petition lists.
In this overview it is possible that I will repeat things that were already said: Emmanuel Lotem added an Afterword to LotR (in RotK, after Appendix F), in which he described the considerations and goals which he had in coming to translate the names and expressions of LotR—goals and considerations in which he involved me more than once. I fervently urge you to read both the Afterword and Appendix F of RotK, in order to get the full picture. In particular, Emmanuel Lotem never claimed that the new edition is completely free of errors: everyone makes mistakes.
As explained in the Afterword of the new edition, we chose to translate most of the Rohorric names to their Old English forms, as Tolkien mentions in his “Translator’s Guide.” One of the claims is that some of this work was done incorrectly. To my dismay, it seems that in some cases our critics are correct.
Skadufaks Tolkien wrote that the name “Shadowfax” was derived from the old English name Sceadu-faex, and wrote that one could keep it, but it is preferable in its simpler form: Scadufax. (He went on to write that since the name was translated by him into more modern English, in languages of the Germanic family one could do the same, and translate the name to a more modern form. Needless to say, Hebrew is not in this family, and thus we chose to keep its old form.)
And yet, the claim is that the combination Sc in Old English was pronounced sh. After researching in quite a few sources, it seems to me that this claim is correct, and it would have been better to call the horse by the name Shadufaks. Still, the name Sceadu exists also in old Norse—from there perhaps it came to English—and there it is pronounced with Sk- at the beginning.
Isen, Isengard [apparently because they are transliterated with an /s/ letter and not a /z/ letter]: In this case there has been a dispute between me and Emmanuel Lotem for a long time. Emmanuel Lotem claims that the pronunciation of the s in the word Isen (“iron”), in certain dialects of English, is between /s/ and /z/. So far as I know, according to the sources I found on the Internet—and also according to listening to Tolkien himself pronounce the name—the correct pronunciation is closer to /z/. Even so, the difference between /s/ and /z/ is not that big (less big than the difference between /ts/ and /k/, for example, in the erroneous transliteration of C), so its severity is less, IMHO.
In the new edition, all the names originating in Sindarin starting with the vowel i were written with y in the beginning: yisildur, yithilien, etc. The claim is that we should have written (and pronounced) ʾisildur, ʾithilien, and so on.
Here I am of two minds: on one hand, the correct pronunciation is indeed closer, IMO, to ʾisildur. The sound in the beginning of the word is like the syllable at the start of Israel [in English], not Yiddish. To be sure, the difference in pronunciation of the initial consonant is not great. Emmanuel Lotem continues and claims that from the standpoint of the shape of the word—a consideration which was almost as important to Tolkien as its pronunciation—the spelling without the ALEF is more æsthetic. I am inclined to agree, although I prefer accuracy over æsthetics in such situations. [trans. note: the claim of æsthetics is valid: ALEF is a big honkin’ letter]
In the continuation of the same paragraph in the appendix to the petition is the complaint that the spelling Nimrays and Anduyn is incorrect, and it should have been Nimraʾis and Anduʾin. This complaint is incorrect. In the source it is Nimrais, Anduin. Tolkien wrote explicitly that the combinations ai, ei, oi, ui, au are to be pronounced as in the words rye, grey, boy, ruin, loud respectively. The word rye is not raʾi but rai, and ruin is not ruʾin but ruyn—therefore the transliteration in the new edition is correct.
Although without vowel-points one could write nimraʾis in order to emphasize the a syllable, when the word is vocalized, the ALEF is liable to add an unwanted “stop” between the vowels a and i. Tolkien established that such a combination is a diphthong—a combination of vowels that are to be pronounced with a smooth transition between them (with no stop) as a single syllable: Nim-rais, not Nim-ra-is; An-duin, not An-du-in.
The complaint has been made that the index of names in the new edition contains “many errors.” Indeed, some errors have cropped up in it, but Emmanuel Lotem admits at the outset that he is not certain of all the interpretations, and that he was helped with whatever he could find (RotK, p.416). Moreover, not all the mistakes listed in the appendix to the petition are actually mistakes!
In fairness, we should note that there are no errors at all in the Index of Names in the old edition, for the simple reason that the Index of Names was not translated in it at all. As we all know, one who does not, errs not.
Lúthien, Aragorn, Celebrían: the interpretations of these names are indeed wrong in the index, though the difference between “enchantress” and “sorceress” [I really don’t think I got these translated correctly] (the meaning of the name of Lúthien) is not great, and it is possible that Mr Lotem relied on a source which erred a little in interpretation.
“land of the valley of singing gold.” In the Appendix to the Petition it is claimed that the translation is “valley of singing gold,” as in the Livnit version. But the Livnit version is mistaken: in the source is written "Land of the Valley of Singing Gold," exactly as Lotem interpreted it. Although in “Unfinished Tales” the name "Laurelindórinan" (the difference exists in the source) is explained as “the valley of singing gold,” but the other form (and the other interpretation) have their source in LotR itself, and so are preferred.
...
In the Appendix to the Petition, its authors complain that Lotem “invented” new translations in places where there was no need for such, and in doing so acted against the clear instructions in the Translator’s Guide which Tolkien wrote: for example ʿeitzan instead of “Ent,” nafil instead of “Oliphaunt,” and more.
And yet Tolkien was not consistent and unambiguous as one might think from these complaints; already in the introduction to the Guide, Tolkien writes: “But of course, the translator is permitted to invent a name in another language, which is fitting as regards its meaning and/or topography: not all the names in the Common Tongue are exact translations of names in other languages {that is, the Elvish Languages}.” [back-translated from the Hebrew] More than that: the Guide is intended, at the outset, for translators to European languages. (And also in all his letters relating to translations of LotR Tolkien dealt exclusively with European translations.) Thus, for example, in the case of word “Oliphaunt,” Tolkien sought to preserve it because it is reminiscent of the word “Elephant”—he never considered that this word might be completely foreign to the language of the translation (further explanation on this infra, under the expression nafil). On the other side, Tolkien requested that the names “Baggins,” “Merry,” and also “Sackville-Baggins” be translated [they are not translated in either Hebrew version, but transliterated]. But for all that we tried to find a Hebrew counterpart for these names, we felt that the outcome would be absurd: Bilbo Ben-Sak [son of a bag]? Or maybe Saknai? Or Tikani? And what of Meriadoc, would he not be Simcha [“happiness,” an acceptable Hebrew male name, though it sounds feminine] or maybe Sason [“rejoicing”], of the Brandybucks?
Therefore, in some of the places where Tolkien wrote “Retain” (i.e. leave as it is) regarding certain expressions, but at the same time described the meaning of the same expressions in Old or Modern English, we decided nevertheless to bestow a Hebrew form to the names—in order that they should not be completely devoid of Hebrew associations. Conversely, we chose not to translate the English expressions from the Shire and Bree, even though Tolkien noted in the Guide that most of them should be translated.
Incidentally, Emmanuel Lotem expounded on these doubts of ours (mostly his own doubts, of course) in detail in the Afterword of LotR, on pp.411-412 of RotK. I have reiterated their essential points here out of a desire for completeness in this article. Their basic message is this: the Guide was written out of consideration for European languages, and for cultural and linguistic associations of the peoples of Europe. Had we fulfilled the instructions of the Guide precisely, a ridiculous translation would have resulted, we believe. Therefore, we learned it, we were aided by it, but we did not blindly follow its instructions. Attempting to attack us on this point, without admitting that the Guide simply is not applicable to a Hebrew translation, is laying bare a half-truth.
Now I will deal with the disputed expressions individually:
ʿEitzan: Tolkien indeed advised to retain the word Ent and also Entings, but explained that this word had its roots in an old English word meaning “giant.” Since the word ʾent has no associations or connotations in the Hebrew language, we preferred (as explained on p.415) to bestow upon these creatures a name which would have an association with their nature, but which still resembles, in its form and sound, the English Ent. [N.B. Hebrew ʿeitz means tree.]
Zuton: In the original Halfling. Tolkien advised to translate it to a name derived from “half,” that is chatzi in Hebrew. But Livnit’s translation, “B’nei machtzit” [“people of the half”??] sounds absurd and cumbersome to us, and simply didn’t fit. On the other hand, chetzyon is a statistical term [median?], and it doesn’t even come into consideration to use it.... In the end we decided that also in this case, since no combination of chatzi worked for us, we would make do with zuton, and at least retain the diminutive connotation. [zuta is Aramaic (and thus borrowed into Hebrew) for “small”]
ʿEilef: on this translation many electrons and photons were spilled, and I will not prolong the treatment here more than necessary. Emmanuel Lotem dealt with it in detail in the Afterword (pp.413-414). I will note only this: in the Appendix to the Petition it is written that “Tolkien demands in the Guide finding a an ancient name boding ill, which is not connected to the modern diminutive sense.” Does the word ʿelef have a "diminutive meaning"? Although in the old translation of Zivit the Bee [?????] the word ʿelef, or ben-ʿelef, is used as a translation of “Elf” in the sense of a flower-fairy, but it is absurd to claim that because of this there is a connection between this word and fairies: almost no Hebrew readers exist who recognize the aforementioned translation, or connect this word with it.
Beyond that, the authors of the Appendix were not accurate: Tolkien did not “demand finding an ancient and ill-boding name.” He sought to avoid a translation connected with little winged fairies. Among other things, he says that the German word Alp is fitting, and it has a meaning of wild malicious demons, or weak-minded people whom they treated as a sort of “aberrant” type of human being.
But Tolkien adds and says also this: “I would prefer that use be made of the oldest form of the word {i.e., corresponding to English elf}, and that this form should gather associations to itself by means of the reading of my work.” As regards the first preference, there is no analogue to English “elf” as Tolkien sees it, that is, the ancient European “elf.” Regarding the second, on one hand the word ʿelef is reminiscent of the English word elf (and in my opinion is preferable to [transliterated] ʾelf, both because it has a Hebrew sound and not a foreign sound, and also because of the possible confusion with ʾelef [a thousand])—and on the other hand, it is certainly unique to Tolkien’s creation, from the moment that Emmanuel Lotem “revived” it, and therefore it acquires its own associations, not the erroneous “preconceived notions” which Tolkien wanted to avoid.
I, for one, was surprised when I first discovered that “B’nei Lilit” was “Elves” in the original [“b’nei lilit”=children/people of Lilith. Lilith is said to have been Adam’s first wife, who went on to become the mother of demons]. I suddenly discovered that I had to “mix” all that I knew about those B’nei Lilit with all the associations which I knew for “Elf” (not from Hebrew stories, of course). When one reads ʿelef it is easy to guess what the English source is, and thus to get a little closer to the feeling of the English reader.
Additionally, “B’nei Lilit” is not a term that is easy to decline [into other parts of speech, as to make “Elvish,” etc], or to form construct structures with: there are no simple translations like Elvish (ʿelfit), Silvan[sic] Elves (ʿalfei-hayʿarot), Light Elves (ʿalfei haʾor) or Elven (ʿelfi). The use of the article is also confusing. Usually we don’t add the definite article to “the children of someone,” like the Children of Israel, the Children of Zion, the Children [i.e. inhabitants] of Haifa, etc. And yet “Children of the Light” [i.e. "the Children of Light," since the article is added only to the possessor of a construct in Hebrew] is a correct form, and also “Children of the Adam” [i.e. “the people”; ben-Adam is a common term for “person” in Hebrew, and Adam is also a common noun with the same meaning]—because Adam in this expression is at this point not the name of Adam the First [the Biblical Adam], but a common noun.
What, then, about “b’nei halilit” [Children of the Lilith]? If lilit is a proper name, this form is not correct. On the other hand, if lilit is a common noun, it holds a very strong connection to the demons of Jewish mythology (and not just to Adam’s first wife). Emmanuel Lotem recoiled greatly from this connection, as he explained.
It is true, though, that there are arguments in favor of “b’nei lilit” as a translation of “Elves,” and I, as opposed to Lotem, agree with some of them—but still, even to me, it is a much less successful translation than ʿalafim.
Sheidon: translation for “Goblin,” in the few places where this word appears in LotR. This is not an invention, and definitely is not taken from Moshe Naami’s translation of The Hobbit—there, sheidon is the translation of "Elf" [the word is a sort of diminutive of sheid/devil, and means something like “imp, gremlin” according to my dictionary. Naami called goblins sheidim, as did the old translation I think]. Goblins, in European folktales, are indeed a sort of small sheidim, mostly wicked, always ugly and twisted. As can be learned from The Hobbit, for Tolkien this is another word for orc, but with already-existing associations in European culture.
It is actually in the old edition that there are missed opportunities and a too-liberal translation of Goblin. Thus, for example, when Frodo sees the suspicious fellow who was hanging around with Bill Ferny at the inn in Bree, he thinks to himself that he looks “like a goblin” [English]. In the old edition, it’s written “he looked like a real scoundrel” [Heb. ben-bliyaʿal]. But the matter of the resemblance to goblins, that is, to orcs, is significant—later on it becomes clear to the reader that Saruman has cross-bred orcs and Men, and the thought occurs that this goblin-resembling southerner was one of them....
Nafil: translation of “Oliphaunt,” which Tolkien requested, however, to leave unchanged. But in continuing the explanation of Oliphaunt, Tolkien writes in Guide to Translators: “one may preserve {the difference between Elephant and Oliphaunt} simply by switching the initial E for an O, in the normal name for Elephant in the language of translation.” That is, Tolkien assumed that “Elephant,” in the language of the translation, starts with an E that could be changed to an O, and my this means to get the same impression of an “ancient” word. Trouble is, the Hebrew word for elephant [“pil”] does not start with an e- sound—and how can we fulfill Tolkien’s instructions? We decided, then, that corruption of the word pil to nafil is a successful analogue to the corruption of Elephant to Oliphaunt [N.B. the p→f change in pil→nafil is due to normal Hebrew phonology; the same letter is used.]
Gamdaʾim: indeed, this is not the correct plural form in Hebrew, since the singular form gamdaʾi doesn’t exist (aside from as a translation for “Dwarvish” in a few places). Emmanuel Lotem gave reasons for the use of this form in the Afterword, and I will review it here in brief: Just as Tolkien sought to distance his Elves from the fairies of old tales, he also wanted to distance his Dwarves from the dwarfs of Snow White and other tales—as he explained at length in Appendix F in the original. And also in Hebrew, the word g’madim [correct, normal plural of gamad/dwarf] has childish associations, which Tolkien would have tried to avoid. The change to gamdaʾim, even if it is not correct from a grammatical perspective (and from this perspective “Dwarves” is also wrong, even according to Tolkien, as he attests in the introduction to The Hobbit), it returns, I think, a little honor to this people, and distances it from Tom Thumb, commander of the dwarf-army.
....[discussion of details of word-choice that doesn’t really translate]
In the Appendix to the Petition it says that Emmanuel Lotem received a mandate to correct the old Hebrew edition, but contrary to that he instituted a series of changes which appear superfluous.
In fact, Emmanuel Lotem was chosen to edit the old translation. The “mandate” of an editor is actually unlimited, and “corrections” are not just corrections of clear errors, but also, sometimes, stylistic corrections, changes of terminology, and more—in fact, anything that the editor sees fit to change and to improve. Here are the examples brought in the Appendix to the Petition:
tzaʿadan becomes pasʿan [both translations of “Strider” in the old and new translations respectively]: This was because tsaʿadan did not sound believable to us as a derisive name, especially if you try to pronounce it loudly. It has, in my opinion, even a somewhat respected sound. p’siʿah [a step, pace] is a different word from tzaʿad [a stride]—and there also exists the expression p’siʿah gasah describing long strides.
Incidentally, for those who doubt the derision intended in the nickname Strider, it is worthwhile to recall Aragorn’s words at the council of Elrond: “... countrymen give us scornful names. ‘Strider’ I am to one fat man who lives within a day’s march of foes that would freeze his heart..”
...
nesher becomes ʿayit [for “eagle”; interesting bit of linguistic history here]: The fowl known in Europe as “Eagle” is the fowl called in Scripture ʿayit [Gen.15:11, Jud.15:8...]—the large bird of prey of the family Aquila. Of this there is no doubt. Also the current name of this bird of prey in modern Hebrew is ʿayit. The Scriptural nesher [rather more common: Ex.19:4; Lev.11:13; Deut.32:11;...] is the large scavenger called in English “Vulture.”
When the revival of the Hebrew language began, the language-renewers, who lived mostly in Europe, made a mistake, in some of their translations. The European king of birds, the eagle, they called nesher, because they did not know of the Scriptural nesher and did not know that its name was given to it because of its bald head [n-sh-r, a root with the meaning of “falling out” as of hair. See Mic.1:16]. They only recognized its image in the Bible as a large bird, majestic and impressive. (Thus they called the deer with the name tzvi, although the Scriptural tzvi is really a gazelle, and the ram is common in Europe [huh???]; so too regarding the rabbit, which got to be called shafan instead of ʾarnavon. This corruption persists, by the way, in the new Hebrew edition of LotR: Sam calls the rabbits sh’fanim, as is right for a rustic hobbit who is not particular about, or does not know about, the precise names—in the original, “coney,” which is a common term for a rabbit).
Thus the corruption of nesher for “eagle” remained untouched for some years, until biologists came and showed that the Scriptural nesher is, without doubt, the vulture, and the eagle is an ʿayit. So too in modern Hebrew. The expression nesher is preserved in some books, but that doesn’t mean we have to perpetuate the mistake.
We could also say that the argument is with whether we are coming to translate the connotations of “eagle” or its denotation. That is, is it more important to note that Thorondor is an eagle/ʿayit (as seen in pictures, and not the balding scavenger), or to use a word that denotes a scavenger but nevertheless has a connection, in several other sources, to the “king of birds”? In either case there’s a certain compromise involved, I think. But the word ʿayit is the one which denotes the bird hat Tolkien meant and drew, and so it was chosen.
“The rustic old [man]” becomes “the old farmer.” In the original, “The Gaffer,” whose meaning is not “gardener” as is claimed in the Appendix to the Petition, but is a colloquial corruption of “godfather,” and is used as a term for old men in rustic places. In this case, both translations are correct; the choice is simply a matter of taste. To me, the word ʾikar [farmer] sounds like a more natural word to describe an old worker of the earth, more so than kafri [rustic, pertaining to villages].
“Helm’s Crevice” became “Helm’s Depths.” This change is not mentioned in the Appendix to the Petition, but has been used several times to attack the new edition, and therefore I feel it right to note it here.
In the original, the name of the place is “Helm’s Deep.” The word “Deep” as a noun to describe a place on dry land is not commonplace, and so we chose a non-commonplace word to translate it: m’tsulah [used for things like “depths of the sea”]. Like the word m’tsulah, also the word “deep” in English normally describes a deep place in the sea—and like the word “deep,” also the word m’tsulah can be used for a deep place on dry land. One proof for this is the expression m’tsulot-yam [the depths of the sea]: why is it necessary to stress the sea, if the m’tsulah is only in the sea anyway? Another proof is in the Bible, in Zechariah: “and I saw at night and behold, a man riding on a red horse, and he was standing between the myrtles that were in the m’tsulah &c” (Zec 1:8). In this case, a m’tsulah means a deep place, like a deep valley or ravine of a river (which is where myrtle trees are found).
As I wrote in the introduction to the article, my aim was to show that the new Hebrew edition of LotR is indeed a more correct and precise edition than the old translation by Ruth Livnit.
I have shown that there are many serious mistakes in the old edition, and that all of them have been fixed in the new edition.
More than that, I have dealt with the “distortions” and the mistakes in the new edition. A few of the complaints are indeed justified; but most of them are not at all errors, but matters of style and taste. As regards correct or incorrect translation, there are not many places where it can be clearly shown that the new edition is incorrect. The old edition, on the contrary, has many such places.
The one advantage of the old edition, I believe, is its sentimental and nostalgic value: a whole generation of Israeli Tolkienists grew up on this translation, and became accustomed to its sounds, terms, and expressions—even to its errors (there are several serious Tolkienists who still write Izildur or Gamggee despite the fact that they know that this is an incorrect transcription—just out of many years of habit). And still, that does not make it more accurate or correct than the new edition.
Someone will say, “Yes, but despite all that you’ve said here, the old edition is still preferable to me over the new one.”
I have no problem with such an approach, truth be told—so long as it is not based on the reason “because the new edition is also wrong and distorted.” This reason simply does not apply, as I have shown in this article. One can come and claim that the old edition is more “fluent” or more “readable” or that you prefer to read about Izildur and Tseleborn, so long as you aren’t confronted with ʿeitzanim or gamdaʾim. A matter of taste, completely. Like Samwise said, the Lotem edition sticks in your craw, and the Livnit translation sticks in mine..
I cannot, or I do not want, to argue with someone who claims that the old translation of the poetry sounds much better to him than the new long translation, or that Lotem’s choice of terms grates on his ears. There are many readers (including me) who prefer gamdaʾim and ʿalfim to g’madim, nanasim [another word for "dwarfs, midgets"], and b’nei-lilit, and to whom the style of the new edition is the beloved one. In any case, there is no doubt that Dr Lotem produced a Hebrew edition of LotR which is more correct and more faithful to the original than the aged and good translation, alas!