I have found the following method of practicing sight translation most effective, if used in a combination of self-study and supervised performance:
· Sight translate aloud for about twenty minutes a day, preferably seven days a week. The time should be subdivided into ten-minute practice sessions to and from the target language.
· Use any current newspapers or magazines, preferably different materials each day or week. At first, sight translate only one or two paragraphs of various articles, making sure that they range over a considerable spectrum of topics—politics, economics, brief news items, society gossip, sports, theater or film, book reviews.
· Sight translate as evenly as possible, to create the illusion of a read text. Skip, improvise, or simplify as needed, but try to convey the message accurately and in complete sentences.
· Do not pause to look up words or phrases, but underline special troublemakers or unknown terms (while guessing at them) in order to check them out and learn them later.
· Sit down and learn such terms once you have collected twenty or thirty, and review them on days when there are no new lists to memorize.
· Listen to your oral presentation while sight translating, and force yourself to use the foreign language as correctly and as literately as you can, and your native language as elegantly and appropriately as possible.
· Avoid, if at all possible, terms or constructions in the foreign language that an educated native speaker would not be likely to use. (You can try such terms in your written translations or compositions where they can be corrected or discussed, and where they can contribute to the development of a style of your own. Here your aim is meaningful and correct communication presented smoothly and clearly.)
· Do not be discouraged if you get hopelessly stuck and have to summarize a paragraph in a short, simplistic, and vague sentence, or not at all. Summarize as best as you can, then skip to another article or essay.[8]
Long before the emergence of most academic translation and interpretation programs, sight translation was practiced systematically in the language school in Vienna where I studied English and French. My regular practice of it, coupled with consistent vocabulary memorization, resulted in my arrival in the United States with so extensive an active English vocabulary that it proved embarrassing, and I quickly reduced it to a less conspicuous level. But what better goal could there be for language teachers than that of preparing our students to face similar embarrassments in a country whose language they have learned here at home? H.L. MENCKEN used to tell the story of a state legislator who clinched his argument against a proposed allocation of funds for foreign language instruction by declaring proudly, “If English was good enough for Jesus Christ, it's good enough for me.” Funny perhaps, but it is hard to keep smiling when similar expressions of smug obscurantism continue to crop up with embarrassing frequency and in the most surprising places. The deputy superintendent for instruction in the Washington, D.C. system, James T. Guines, was quoted in the Washington Post (4 September 1977) as saying that a cut in the school budget meant that such luxuries as foreign language classes in elementary schools would be the first to go. After all, he explained, “Even if you go abroad now, you don't need a language. The dollar speaks louder than anything.” [9]
A brief trip to Europe might assist Mr. Guines in acquiring a better appreciation of the value of foreign languages—and of the dollar. But before we become too self-righteous, we should remember that there is another side to this question. We may agree that foreign languages have intrinsic value, but that value will remain untapped unless and until it is transmitted correctly. Another Mencken anecdote may clarify the point. He recalled studying French for two years in high school and looking forward to his first visit to France; much to his dismay, he discovered that no one in Paris understood “high school French.”
Charity begins at home. We must put our own house in order. Foreign language instruction needs improvement at all levels, but the crux of our problem lies in the elementary and secondary schools. This is where languages should be taught, not in the colleges. I am convinced that the long-range solution to the plight of foreign languages in this country will come with improvement of instruction at the high school level and with coordination of an effective transition from high school to college. However, in the meantime we must face the situation as it is and do the best we can.
Our present prospects are, unfortunately, not very happy. There is no need to rehearse the litany of complaints, but it is worth reiterating that the plight of foreign languages reflects a larger problem that threatens the educational system as a whole. I am speaking of the continued decline in verbal and mathematical skills among young people, demonstrated by the drop in SAT scores over the past few years. To no one's surprise, a special commission charged with studying the matter attributed the lower scores to several factors, including too much television. My own feeling is that two important underlying causes are, or have been, a creeping anti-intellectualism in the public at large and a loss of confidence among teachers.
As a result of this fatal combination, many students receive high school diplomas that are not worth the paper they are written on. Large numbers of so-called graduates are functional illiterates, incapable of even balancing a checkbook. They can hardly read and write their own language, so what hope do they have of learning another? The gradual abandonment of the emphasis on the three R's has been encouraged by the “quick fix” mentality and the introduction of “innovative” ideas, whose chief purpose appears to be to persuade children that learning requires little or no effort. No one is suggesting that we return to the bad old days, but surely the pendulum has swung too far from Grad grind to the Good Humor Man.
The Good Humor Man approach is intellectually dishonest (children are not fooled, by the way), and it does the children a terrible disservice, as many of them come to realize later in life. Many boys and girls accept tough discipline in sports, and anyone who can learn “plays” in basketball can learn “plays” in English or mathematics. I do not believe that young people who discipline their bodies cannot also discipline their minds. But of course boys and girls have a right to an education; they do not have any right to play for their school in basketball or tennis, so they try harder.
Unfortunately, in too many schools sports dominate all other activities. We are drifting away from the Greek ideal, which like so much in the Classical heritage comes down to us in a Latin tag: “Mens sana in corpore sano.” We need to give high school teachers something of the authority enjoyed by the football coach. It might help, too, if we could focus more attention on educators rather than “educationists” or organizers of teaching, and also get school boards and PTA's off the teachers' backs. Perhaps a little “teacher power” would lead to more respect for teachers—and for the learning process—on the part of the students.
I may appear to have drifted from the topic of foreign language instruction, but I am trying to make the point that we share a community of interests with our colleagues in English and mathematics, and indeed with all teachers at the secondary school level. Foreign languages are the most fragile and vulnerable part of the humanities curriculum. All of us man the front line in a constant battle against obscurantism and the Madison Avenue mentality, but high school teachers are in the trenches. Foreign language instruction is bound to suffer if verbal and mathematical skills decline and if the Good Humor Man approach continues to flourish. Anyone involved in FL teaching also has a stake in the maintenance of high standards of oral and written skills in the English language, because the level of those skills determines the quality of the students we see in our own classes. A foreign language can, of course, be taught well or badly, like any other subject, but learning must involve effort, memorization, precision, and a good knowledge of how one's own language works. That is why we should all welcome the “back to basics” movement that appears to be gaining ground in various parts of the country. Both students and parents are beginning to realize that all the fancy talk about innovation and creative freedom does not help much if a graduate cannot read and write beyond the eighth-grade level and therefore cannot get a job. Frustrated by this discovery, some parents have threatened to sue high schools for awarding diplomas under false pretenses—which is precisely what some schools have done.
Perhaps those of us in Russian studies are more aware of the shared community of interests and of the need for students to have a solid grounding in basic verbal skills. We certainly have more to gain, first, because Russian is such a late arrival on the American educational scene, and second, because Russian requires a good understanding of grammar and syntax (not that one can do without this understanding in learning other languages).
The University of Virginia Slavic Department draws heavily upon applied linguistics in teaching Russian. The discipline of modern linguistics was largely created by Slavists and hence figures as a subject of central importance in most Slavic departments. At the same time, this approach recognizes the obvious fact that Russian is a highly inflected language having, for example, six cases. A student who cannot distinguish between subject and predicate or accusative and dative is likely to find the going rough. On the other hand, Russian grammar is logical and predictable; students willing to make a reasonable effort usually do very well.
Russian classes are anything but dull. Our beginning text is A Russian Course by Alexander Lipson (Slavica Publishers). It is a text with excellent layout, tapes, and an exceptionally good workbook manual. The book offers an ideal combination of liveliness and linguistic sophistication. The first three chapters present a microcosm of the Russian language in practice by use of the question-and-answer technique and frequent repetition. Thereafter the grammar is introduced in stages because the student now has an understanding of how the language works in practice. The instructor speaks Russian from the outset, eliciting correct answers by writing symbols or matchstick drawings on the blackboard; he needs to be on his toes and to be something of a ham in order to create the proper atmosphere of give and take in the repetition of “rituals.”
3.2.2.Lipson's text abandons the old-fashioned type of grammar sentence and opts for nonsense phrases which force the student to focus as much on the linguistic nature of the words as on their meaning. Much fun is had at the expense of Socialist Realism and Soviet propaganda claims of breaking cement-mixing records, but it is verbal play rather than social criticism. Students learn a great deal about the fascinating inhabitants of the twin cities of West Blinsk and East Blinsk, the latter being renamed Gubkingrad in honor of Gubkin, the renowned hero of Socialist Labor. There is also the continuing saga of Superman ( Sverxcelovek ) and Superboy ( Sverxmal'cik ).
The point of all this silliness is that students enjoy the pleasures of contrastive grammar, of punning with sounds that exist only in English or only in Russian. Not only do they acquire a useful set of phrases, but they learn to generate their own “rituals.” They begin to understand that language, any language, is a system tending toward, but never quite reaching, perfect balance in its various components and prosodic features. They enjoy being “behind the scenes,” getting an insight into the ways in which the linguist formulates rules for what takes place in a language. They enjoy learning about linguistic universals, about the relationship between front and back vowels and hard and soft consonants. They perceive a parallel between consonantal and pronunciation changes in Russian ( krast'—kradu ) and in English (wit—wisdom; Christ— Christian).
I have the impression that many FL instructors lack linguistic sophistication and do not know as much about the theory of language as they could or should in order to employ an up-to-date methodology. It might well be that we need a program of fellowships to enable foreign language instructors at all levels to “retool” and acquire some understanding of linguistics, semiotics, and communication theory.
Our students are not abandoned at the end of the first or second year, although Virginia does have a two-year FL requirement. A determined effort is made to coordinate all four levels of the Russian language program so that students who wish to may continue with Russian in a coherent manner; quite a large proportion do decide to go on with the language. As a continuing text we use Genevra Gerhart's The Russian's World: Life and Language (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich). The aim of the book is to tell the American student “what every Russian knows,” and it succeeds admirably. Gerhart gives the connotative as well as the denotative value of Russian words, thus putting cultural flesh on the linguistic bones, breathing life into the frame.
We place particular emphasis on foreign study. Naturally, a summer or semester in Leningrad or Moscow does not fit every student's plans, but we do offer these opportunities to qualified students through our membership in such organizations as the Council for International Educational Exchange and the American Council of Teachers of Russian. Closer to home, students have available the total-immersion summer programs at Indiana and Middlebury, as well as the weekend Russian Language Camp sponsored in the fall by the University of Virginia and James Madison University. Attendance at such domestic programs—or, even better, study in the country itself—provides a target for the student to aim at, a time and place to utilize what he or she has learned.
We are fortunate at Virginia in having excellent cooperation among foreign language departments. One immediate result of this cooperation has been the acquisition of a demonstration classroom with excellent video-tape equipment. This superb facility provides both faculty and teaching assistants with an opportunity to observe themselves and others performing, and to correct errors or improve techniques. All foreign language faculty and teaching assistants hold regular meetings to discuss problems and methodology.
Each department and each college or university has its own institutional mission, and it is both natural and healthy that there should be a wide variety of approaches and emphases. However, the FL program must remain central to the concerns of the traditional language and literature department. If there are no students with a solid grounding in the foreign language, then there will be no majors, no upper-level courses in which the FL is used, and ultimately no graduates with a true understanding of the life and culture of the country concerned. A department that neglects its language program loses its heart. Every effort should be made, whether the institution has a foreign language requirement or not, to make the language program as successful as possible.
The second major focus is, of course, the study of literature. It can be an enormously civilizing and liberating experience for undergraduates, providing we do not insist on burdening them with an unrelieved diet of close formalist analysis of the sort inflicted on us in graduate school. At the risk of excommunication by adherents to the exclusively intrinsic study of literature, I must say that I believe it is a mistake to insist that undergraduates share our enthusiasm for formalist or structural analysis of texts. A department should make such courses available, but it should also offer courses of a more humane breadth which treat, for example, the relationship between literature and the society from which it emanates, a topic that Harry Levin has written on with his customary wit and elegance.
Whatever the approach, FL departments should never allow themselves to be isolated. No one relishes playing the FTE game, least of all those of us involved in the study of literature, concerned as it is with the problematical and contingent in life and the larger questions of the human condition. And yet, if we believe in the value of what we are doing, we ought to have the courage of our convictions and be prepared to defend our discipline in an honorable and intellectually responsible manner. A foreign language department should consider carefully engaging in cooperative joint programs or courses with other FL departments (and English departments), as well as with non-language departments involved in area studies programs. Another useful idea is to offer courses in English translation. Some people frown on such courses as a sort of betrayal, but if they are offered as supplementary courses to the department's core program they can provide a useful service and, if taught well, attract good students. After all, not every student interested in the novels of Dostoevsky or Camus or Thomas Mann or Borges may have the time to study the foreign language to a level where he or she can read them in the original. Quite often a student becomes interested in the language through a literature course in translation.