@filmfann, some years ago I took up the study of a Buddhist text and researched translations. I found seventeen versions coming from Sanskrit and the original Pali and laid them out on index cards, one phrase or expression per card, to examine them all in parallel. It was, shall we say, enlightening. (I could have found more, but seventeen seemed like enough.)
I’ve read texts that gave me an English translation together with the original language on facing pages, usually French or German, but sometimes Japanese, Chinese, and even Sumerian. I’ve read the Bhagavad-Gita that way, with Sanskrit on the facing page. Even when I don’t know the language, I can get a lot of information from looking at the original text. I remember seeing my father prepare sermons by studying New Testament passages in Greek, even though I wouldn’t say he “knew” Greek.
I know little of the translator’s art, but I am aware that there is a constant tension between the actual literal rendition, which may include idioms, figures of speech, cultural references, and other elements that the reader may not understand, and a version that represents the text in equivalent terms—such as a parallel metaphor—that may deliver the effect of the original but also places a major burden of interpretation on the translator. The interpretation can reflect a significant bias, such as a doctrinal one, and can risk leading the reader away from rather than toward an understanding. Art, politics, culture, and all kinds of other things, not least the translator’s own literacy and command of English, can affect the result.
When the source document is poetry, the challenge seems to escalate by an order of magnitude.
@Call_Me_Jay, interesting. That’s far more than I’d have expected. It suggests a degree of open-mindedness that might be relatively recent.
I’m especially interested in what the evangelical churches are using. And I wonder who is still standing by the KJV.