In praise of … mistranslations

Languages don't translate, and when you think they do, you can easily come a cropper. As Tony Blair discovered when he thought he was telling Lionel Jospin, the French socialist prime minister, how much he envied him and his policies. What he actually said in French was how much he lusted after him in all his positions. In a rare example of speaking English, Vladimir Putin told a judo championship in Vienna, how "Wien balance history and dynamic". No wonder such examples are rare. Nicolas Sarkozy told a business forum how he would be "appy to elp you make murni in Frenz and of course to make some murni with you for us". Interpreters can make matters worse, as Jimmy Carter discovered on a visit to Poland in 1977, where he apparently told the Poles he desired them carnally, that their constitution was an object of ridicule and that he had come from the US never to return. The obvious exception to this rule is Nick Clegg, who, in breach of the finest traditions of British amateurism, speaks Spanish effortlessly, but not quite as fluently as he speaks French, German, Dutch or English. British diplomats obviously need to improve their language skills, as William Hague has realised. Would that the same were done to halt the self-defeating decline of foreign language teaching in schools. Mistranslations will however remain a rich source of creativity. None more so than the Old Testament's word for young women. When the Hebrew was translated into Greek, the notion of the virgin birth was born.