Karin Betz: No such thing as ‘impossible’ translation

By YANG XUE / 02-06-2025 / Chinese Social Sciences Today

German sinologist Karin Betz, who is devoted to translating Chinese and English literature. Photo: COURTESY OF BARBARA NEEB


In 1911, the German translation of the Tao Te Ching by missionary Richard Wilhelm was published, profoundly influencing the European intellectual community of the time. It reignited European interest in Chinese culture and satisfied their desire to explore profound concepts. Recently, CSST sat down with Karin Betz, a German sinologist, translator, and recipient of the 17th Special Book Award of China. She shared that her journey of learning Chinese began with the Tao Te Ching. Betz further noted that studying such profound texts revealed a crucial insight: to translate effectively, one must interpret the meaning behind every expression and sentence. Only in this way can these texts be fully understood. She felt as though she was destined to be closely connected with translation. 


From translation philosophy and a translator’s sense of mission to individuality and the trend of Chinese online literature “going global,” Betz shared her unique perspectives and fresh insights. She also explained how she integrates cultural and artistic experiences into literary translation, using fresh and vivid language to create a smooth and immersive reading experience. 


Journey beginning with classical Chinese 

CSST: We are very interested in learning about your journey as a translator. How did you start to develop an interest in the Chinese language and translation? 


Betz: After graduating from high school in 1987, I chose to enter the University of Frankfurt to study Chinese. I was fascinated by Chinese characters, excited about the chance to study in China as an exchange student, and curious about Chinese culture and society. Coming from an underprivileged family, I had hardly traveled anywhere as a child, but I have a thirst for knowledge. 


My journey into Chinese studies began with classical Chinese, which meant deciphering the meaning behind each expression and sentence to find a way to translate them. My purpose was not to become a translator, and I worked in various professions—mostly in culture, teaching, and international coordination—before I became a translator. Today, I still profit a lot from having a profound understanding of classical Chinese, as there are so many references to classical literature and philosophy in modern Chinese novels, even in science fiction works. 


‘Chineseness’ in ‘German translation’ 

CSST: Your translation of the cryptography and mathematical equations in Mai Jia’s Decoded, the dialects and operatic elements in Mo Yan’s Sandalwood Death, and the astrophysics in Liu Cixin’s The Dark Forest, etc., are considered “impossible missions” in the translation world. In your experience, what is the most difficult aspect of translation? 


Betz: I don’t think there is such a thing as an “impossible” translation. Every text poses different questions and challenges to the translator, and you have to be willing and excited about researching and learning. The first step is to understand the original by getting factual knowledge on terms, historical background, etc. This is a very cognitive process. But then there’s the emotional and literary knowledge you need to transfer the style, the subtext, the atmosphere of a book into the appropriate target language. Both understanding the source and creating the target are difficult. 


While Mai Jia’s works might require lots of research on mathematical terms, his writing style is very modern and close to European literature styles, which makes it easier to translate his work to German. Mo Yan’s Sandelwood Death purposely applies (in part) a pre-modern writing style, full of highly contextual language, proverbs, quotes from Chinese classics, verse and theatre. And that requires more steps from the original to the translated text. It takes many revisions of the translation in order to free yourself from the syntactical structures of the original and thus create a vivid “German” translation on the language level that keeps all the “Chineseness” on the content level. 


CSST: Renowned Chinese translator Xu Jun once said that a translator’s selection of texts reflects the aesthetic demands and creative abilities of the translation subject. How do you choose the works you want to translate? What is your translation philosophy? 


Bezt: Translation projects are usually offered to me by publishers. I would not have the time to translate a novel just for fun, hoping that it will be published. Sometimes I suggest novels to publishers, but they rely more on their agents. Of course, I have to like a novel to translate it. Translating a bad novel is pure intellectual torture. I spend a few months, sometimes a year of my life with a novel; it will be my friend and companion for a while. You can love your friends despite—or even because—they are difficult or complex, but they wouldn’t become friends if you don’t like them in the first place. I love texts that provide creative and intellectual challenges, that make me learn and grow, and are worth the time it takes to find the best possible solutions. 


CSST: There is a saying in translation studies that only the original works are eternal, while translations are not. A translation can only last for 50 years. What are your thoughts on this? 


Bezt: I agree. Every translation is limited by the language itself and the prevailing translation fashions of the time. It is done for the audience of their time. Both the attitude towards translation and the use of language change. In an original work, you will accept “old” language because that was the language of the time it was written. A translation is expected to keep up with the times. Nowadays, for example, you wouldn’t call a young woman a “girl.” Also, modern German readers, for example, are more willing to accept that some terms are not translated (like “dao” or “jiaozi”), because there is more common knowledge of Chinese cultural terms or food. You also wouldn’t translate personal names, like some older translations did. Still, some older translations can last for a long time, if only as a work of reference, because they established certain standards, or because they serve as an example of a good translation of the past. 


Translators’ mission 

CSST: Many people are curious about the relationship between translators and authors. As a translator, how should you manage the relationships with the original work, the author, and the readers? 


Bezt: My relationship with the writers depends often on the writers themselves, whether they are open to exchange with their translators. I know that many translators like to ask their authors many questions about the text, but I hardly ever do. First of all, every reader—and thus every translator—reads a work differently, and serious writers do not dictate to their audience how they want to be understood. If there is something that I don’t understand, whether it’s an unusual expression or a specific term, I research it and read more closely until I get it. 


The biggest difficulty lies in finding the adequate wording in the target language, and there the author is of no help. My attitude towards the original work lies between humility and courage. I humbly respect every word of the text, giving it as much close reading and feeling as it needs, and then have the courage to explore and to use all the possibilities of my own language to get as close as possible to the original meaning, even if it means leaving the original sentence structure and wording far behind. I am a servant to both the author and the readers. I owe the readers a pleasant and highly literary reading experience, and I owe the writer the conveyance of all aspects of style, culture, beauty, humor, wordplay, or poetry of his or her work. 


CSST: While staying close to the original work and presenting it authentically, can or should a translator incorporate their own personality into the translation? 


Bezt: As there is no translation without interpretation and no interpretation without personal knowledge, experience, and attitude, the personality of the translator is naturally present in the translation. It can be accented, though—for example, I have been told by (Chinese) readers of my German translation of Jin Yong that my translation has a “feminist” touch to it, a tendency to choose German expressions that do not serve stereotypes of women. If that is so, it’s something I did unconsciously. I certainly do not “change” the characters, but I might nuance or accentuate them in the way I read them. 


There are things that I do consciously, though, like my love for language, which makes me collect and use my favorite German expressions in my translations (I am constantly working on my own language glossary) or simply reflect on my usage of language. There is always some kind of “sensitivity reading” at work, consciously or unconsciously, that will make me prefer certain terms over others. My personality is reflected by the empathy I put into every character and any detail of a novel. 


CSST: You once mentioned that Mai Jia’s Decoded reminded you of Lu Xun’s “Diary of a Madman.” How did this association come about? Which work or works of Lu Xun’s do you like the best and why? 


Bezt: Haha, I don’t remember when I said that … but I think I made this association because the main character in Decoded is considered “mad” by his surroundings, and he also writes a diary that isn’t easy to decipher, but it is the key to his inner world. Mai Jia’s writing style is very different from Lu Xun’s; the only thing they have in common is that both Lu Xun and Mai Jia embraced modernity. Lu Xun, a writer from Zhejiang, has a biography that in some ways reflects the beginning of Decoded, when the Rong family becomes a family of mathematicians and sets an example for the intellectual modernization of China. 


Online literature ‘going global’ 

CSST: You have also translated Jin Yong’s wuxia novels. Currently, Chinese online novels, especially wuxia and xianxia genres, are gaining some popularity abroad. How do you view the international craze for wuxia novels or the phenomenon of Chinese online literature “going global”? 


Bezt: I don’t actually think that web novels in the wuxia genre can be compared to the highly literary realm of Jin Yong’s creations. But of course, I am happy to see Chinese mythology and classical philosophy becoming known and popular among young readers around the world. Their popular and entertaining quality will hopefully serve as a “door opener” that will create a demand and interest for any kind of Chinese literature in general. Chinese science fiction, especially Liu Cixin’s novel, has already helped to change the image of Chinese literature in a positive way. 


CSST: Have you read any of the great Chinese classical novels? Have you ever considered translating them? 


Betz: I’ve read the so-called the Four Great Classical Chinese Novels and many older Chinese classics. I would actually love to translate them, but they are either already translated or it would be difficult to find a publisher who is willing to take the (financial) risk. There are some classical novels that should be re-translated, because the existing translations do them no justice. As for novels, I would have liked to translate Shui Hu Zhuan (Outlaws of the Marsh). But my biggest wish would be to have the time and financial resources to translate song ci (lyric poetry of the Song dynasty), like those of Xin Qiji, Li Qingzhao, and Su Shi, because I adore it. 


Edited by LIU YUWEI