#industry. like i AGREE with this persons intent i just think their wording is unnecessarily accusatory and general

[n0phalt]

seeing these over and over and over and repeating my mantra of peace and understanding interspersed with my mantra of 'twitters algorithm is trying to make me mad and is showing me takes that seem very antagonistic and personally targeted when in actuality this is a fair assessment of *some* peoples experience and the poster has not evaluated other reasons for the discordance and thus is not dispariging me'

[pumpkinpaix]

on the 7seas mxtx english editions

I have been struggling to write this since December. I still don’t really know where or how to begin, but the recent announcement of 2ha’s English licensing by Seven Seas seems as good a motivator as any at this point.

I guess before I begin, I want to make clear that I am not writing this with the intent or desire to harm—it’s certainly a criticism, but I want it to be a practical one. Please don’t use my words as an excuse to take up arms or make personal attacks. I don’t want to be used as a prop in anyone else’s fights, I don’t wan to talk about it, I just want to say my piece and be done.

So. Without mincing words: I am beyond disappointed in the MXTX English-language editions. The idea that this might be what sets the precedent for future danmei releases is incredibly disheartening. There are several reasons, and I’ll try to explain my main issues as best I can without being unnecessarily harsh. I will be talking about specifics with regards to MDZS, as it’s the one I’m most familiar with.

Quality & Production Timeline:

The overall quality of the work is lackluster and rushed. Several reviews have already discussed issues with the MDZS translation that was published—they are easy to find on Goodreads and elsewhere, but I am not going to link them here because I feel that relitigating details and pinning blame on the translator(s) is very misguided. The licensed translation is full of mistakes (both major and minor), inconsistencies, and confusing wording. To me, this betrays a very serious lack of editorial oversight and quality checking rather than a problem with the raw translation itself. No translator on earth can produce a first draft without mistakes, yes, even very basic ones. Everyone slips up, even in their native tongue, all the time. Having mistakes in an early draft is not at all an indication that a translator lacks skill, and this persistent focus on the faults of the translator(s) feels more like scapegoating than anything. I may not agree with all of the translation choices, but I do not think that mistakes make the translator(s) unqualified.

What I find unacceptable is that these mistakes were allowed through into the final printing, which tells me there was insufficient, if any, review of the content, either by the translators, or by another party familiar with the original work. The production timeline feels very, very short for such a project (I cannot even begin to imagine trying to translate 32 chapters of MDZS in under four months), which maybe explains, but doesn’t excuse. I am not intimately familiar with the publishing industry, so I will refrain from speculating further, except to point in the direction of both Suika and Pengie’s threads on the matter:

If the books needed more time to be done well, then they should have allotted more time. The translators should not be bearing the brunt of the criticism. It isn’t fair to them—and it isn’t fair that the publication schedule and process set them up for failure in this way.

Pronunciation Guide:

This is perhaps my most serious grievance, and the one that’s kept me from writing this for four and a half months. I know that my reaction is personal and extreme, but I also think that it has roots in something that is both real and actionable. Forgive me, this will be harsh.

When I saw the pronunciation guides in the back of all the books, I felt physically ill.

It reads like an echo of all the times I’ve had my “difficult” language used against me, but this time packaged up as a pseudo-helpful, sightseeing brochure to make English speakers feel good about themselves when confronted with supposedly “difficult” content. They are condescending, touristy, and teach a bastardized, hyper-Americanized anglicization of my first language. The pronunciations, as they are written, sound exactly the way a classmate used to harass me by following me around, mocking my name, and pulling at the corners of his eyes. They are worse than useless.

These guides are not only disrespectful to people like me, but also disrespectful to the English speakers who put their trust in this production based on the marketing that implied there would be careful consideration of the cross-cultural challenges involved. When there was so much reassuring from the publisher that these books would be done right, that the production would be handled with respect and understanding, the inclusion of these guides was particularly insulting. Much has been made about how they are inaccurate—which they are. But what’s more egregious is their tone, their technique, their application.

Mandarin pronunciation can be challenging for English speakers. I am not contesting this. But I ask—what was the purpose of these guides? “[Mandarin] is a tonal language,” they read, “so correct pronunciation is vital to being understood!” But there is not a single further allusion to tone within the guide, and the pronunciations that follow are not, in any way, going to help a reader new to the language pronounce anything well.

Obviously, two-page pronunciation guides cannot be a substitute for language instruction—but then they should not make any pretension to be. I cannot see these guides as anything other than a way to pander to the egos of English speakers, to simplify and make palatable this language that might make them uncomfortable with its difference. These guides promise knowledge on culture that they don’t deliver, and instead mislead readers with racist caricatures of the language.

Lest this is met with responses along the lines of “but it’s hard to create a pronunciation guide” and “it makes the book more accessible”—1) of course it’s hard. So what? Doing it badly was worse than not doing it at all. 2) No, it doesn’t. Misinformation does not increase accessibility.

There was every opportunity to create something respectful and sincere. Many people have pointed out that the Pinyin system is very serviceable and consistent. If it wasn’t feasible to include a basic guide to Pinyin in the books, perhaps there could have been a space for “Additional Resources” instead, providing links or references to places where a reader could seek out that information if they wanted it. We live in a multimedia world. Several fans, including myself, have made audio pronunciation guides—something like that, more professionally produced, might have been an option. There was room to allow readers to explore and learn and put in effort to engage instead of spoon-feeding them this slapdash, half-assed bullshit.

I can believe that it was done with the best of intentions. But that doesn’t make it good.

Marketing:

This leads into my final point, which is a bit more nebulous and hard to explain, but I’ll try.

The inclusion of guides beyond a pronunciation guide and glossary was also insulting, in a different way. Why is there a need for a character guide? Can readers not be trusted to read? I might understand an inclusion in later volumes as a refresher, but it’s baffling to me that these guides are considered necessary at the outset, and it’s also frustrating to see that they contain interpretations of characterization and motivation. “The identity of certain characters may be a spoiler; use this guide with caution on your first read of the novel.” Why include it at all?

As a reader, I do not want to be told how to understand the text. The text can speak for itself without an external party setting the tone. These stories are not more complicated just because they are Chinese. Harry Potter didn’t come with an extensive list of characters and the meanings of their names. And those were books written for children.

MXTX’s works are adult books. They are adult books, but everything about their marketing in English feels like they are aimed at teens that the publishers don’t think are very smart. Yes, the stories may be culturally unfamiliar, but that doesn’t mean readers need to be hand-held with cutesy lectures. To do so feels like it says something less than flattering about the publisher’s perception of MXTX’s work and audience.

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When the English licensing of MXTX’s works was first announced, I admit my first reaction was despair because I was so afraid of the consequences, of what unintended collateral damage the final product might generate if it fell short of a very high standard—for the translators, for MXTX, for the greater danmei genre. It’s difficult to be the first, and it’s difficult to be the first with such high stakes. And unfortunately, here we are, and it played out nearly exactly how I had predicted and hoped it would not.

I am not unbiased, and my views certainly reflect that. It is possible that some of my criticisms are excessive or unsympathetic. However, I have spent a long time thinking this over and attempting to put it all into words, and I would appreciate having my criticisms considered seriously, even if you eventually decide that you disagree with them. But I am tired and I am terribly sad that something I loved so much was handled in a way that felt so disrespectful. How can I be excited about the English releases of these books if I can hardly bear to look at the copies on my shelf? Unless a lot changes about the future installments, I cannot view any English licensing announcements with anything but bitter disappointment. I have no trust left to give, and no heart to spare.

It’s fine if you love the English editions of these novels. I don’t want to take away your joy because it’s a wonderful thing to have. As always, all I’m asking for is serious consideration. If I’ve made you see things in a different light, that’s as much as I can hope for.