Asterix

Over and beyond the question of fitting the text to the artwork, and restricting it to the length made available by the size of the speech-bubbles, there are a number of problems very specific to the translation of the Asterix stories. They may be roughly divided into the categories of names, songs, puns, other wordplay.

Names: the books to date contain some four hundred proper names of people (and some place names), nearly all of which have had to be changed in translation, since they are not really names, but comic spoofs on names made up out of French words in the original. For instance the village bard Assurancetourix = assurance tous risques, ‘comprehensive insurance’. As with all the Gauls, his name ends in the suffix —ix, to echo the genuine Vercingetorix. But translated straight the phrase sounds nothing like a name of any kind. In English he becomes Cacofonix because he is tone-deaf and sings and plays so badly out of tune that his music is mere cacophony.

Then there is the chieftain Abraracourcix whose name is from the phrase à bras raccourcis = literally ‘with foreshortened arms’, i.e. doubled up ready for a fight; to attack someone violently is tomber sur quelqu’un à bras raccourcis. Again, this was impossible to translate into a convincing name. The chieftain is rather stouter than is good for him, and was therefore called, with reference to his girth, Vitalstatistix in English.

Asterix and Obelix remain the same, as far as I know, in all languages, but the druid Panoramix retains his French name in many other languages, and we too have the adjective ‘panoramic’ available in English. However, the name of ‘Getafix’ seemed a gift, having more than one double meaning: not only does the druid’s magic potion give the Gauls a temporary ‘fix’ (of a perfectly innocuous kind) to help them defeat the Roman aggressors, but there is also the theory that the druids of ancient Britain may have used circles of standing stones (like Stonehenge) as astronomical observatories, to help them ‘get a fix’ on the sun.

There are tentative proposals for revision of the Asterix translations. Does political correctness require that the present name of the Druid be scrapped? If so, what might replace it, or should one go back to the French Panoramix? This is but one of the issues to be raised.

Roman names end in —us, to resemble the real Latin names which they are not, with a very few exceptions in historical figures like Julius Caesar and Brutus). They include, for instance a legionary called Plutoqueprévus = plus tôt que prévu, ‘sooner than expected’, who becomes in English Infirmofpurpus (from Lady Macbeth’s speech to her husband: ‘Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers.’). See Le Combat des Chefs / Asterix and the Big Fight, p. 21, in both French and English

And in the first book of all Astérix en Hispanie/ Asterix in Spain, p.9, a centurion who is Claudius Nonpossumus in the French (from Latin, non possumus, we cannot) and becomes Spurius Brontosaurus in English. The translators were pleased when they recollected that Spurius was a genuine Roman name: cf. Spurius Lartius, one of the brave allies who helped Horatius keep the bridge in the brave days of old (Macaulay, Lays of Ancient Rome).

Most Britons end in —ax, possibly because the real Caesar, in his real historical work De Bello Gallico, mentions a king of Kent called Segovax — e.g. Jolitorax in French becomes Anticlimax in English. (Astérix chez les Bretons / Asterix in Britain).

Egyptians end in —is; an architect called Numérobis in French (number two, of house numbers) is Edifis = edifice in English (Cleopatra). The Gaulish women end in —ine in French, e.g. Bonemine the village chieftain’s wife, by analogy with a probably mythical Gaulish heroine called Eponine, doubtless connected with the horse goddess Epona, who with her husband Sabinus held out against the Romans. She is hardly known in the English-speaking countries, so the women’s names in the English versions, Gaulish and Roman alike, end in the usual feminine —a (the chieftain’s wife becomes Impedimenta). This allows the wife of the Gaulish fishmonger, who in French is Iélosubmarine (yellow submarine, from the Beatles song), to her husband’s Ordralfabétix, alphabetical order, to become Bacteria to his Unhygienix in English — a well-matched couple, since the fish they sell are always very elderly, and are frequently used as ammunition in scuffles between the villagers. And so on.

Read more...Translating Songs

Top of page

Back to previous page