Passage
Of the myriad problems facing translators, perhaps the most significant lies in the tension between what a text conveys and the words used to convey it. Strict fidelity to the specific words of a text often fails to capture the full sense of its meaning. Beyond this loss of meaning can also arise a loss of artistry and structural features which often cannot be replicated.For instance, a fully evocative rendering of the 119th Psalm seems unattainable. Comprising twenty-two strophes of eight lines each, the one hundred and seventy-six verses do appear somewhat poetic in translation. But in the original Hebrew the Psalm is an acrostic: the verses of the first strophe all begin with the letter Aleph, those of the second with Beth, and so on, with Tav, the last letter of the alphabet, commencing the final eight verses. The reader of a translation would, understandably, be ignorant of this fact. While this does not affect the essential meaning of the verses, it does affect their character-something is lost from the original in its non-native presentation. Although there have been occasional attempts to mimic this structure in other languages, they have all been unsuccessful. The tortured and unnatural wording that results proves the wisdom of most translators in prioritizing readability. Nevertheless, the Psalmist wrote with a particular purpose that is left untransmitted. The sacrifice of the acrostic, however necessary, is regrettable.Another concern is what might be called translational multiplicity. Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges famously remarked: "The Quixote, due to my congenital practice of Spanish, is a uniform monument, with no other variations… the Odyssey, thanks to my opportune ignorance of Greek, is an international bookstore of works in prose and verse." To speak of "the" Odyssey, or more generally, "the" text of any work, runs headlong into the reality that for translated works, "the text" is not a unitary entity but a collection of candidates. Thus, a perennial difficulty of translation is conveyed through Borges' idiosyncratic presentation. Or is it? For Borges' remarks are elsewhere listed as: "Since Spanish is my native language, the Quixote is to me an unchanging monument, with no possible variations…. But the Odyssey, thanks to my opportune ignorance of Greek, is a library of works in prose and verse." That we might ask which of these translations more closely represents his actual words is a fact that Borges would likely have found amusing.Considerations of this sort are magnified when one approaches the writings not only of individual authors, but of past civilizations. Despite being one of the world's foremost sinologists, the late D. C. Lau was convinced that none of us truly understand classical Chinese. The sentiment was no mere expression of modesty; fellow scholar Roger Ames described Lau as "[h]aving assimilated the classical corpus through a lifetime of careful study and reflection." Rather, Lau was keenly aware of the difficult truth that the fluidity of language and culture over time can shroud the works of the ancients in obscurities that may be inscrutable to even their most passionately curious descendants.Modern works may also be altered, however, and sometimes through more subtle types of translation. The book known as Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in England was changed to refer instead to the "Sorcerer's Stone" in the United States, reportedly due to a belief that the original title would be unpalatable to an American audience. While that depressing assumption may indeed have been correct, the change removes a titular connection to a pre-existing myth. The generic fantasy idea with which it is replaced thus fails to embody the full character of the original work.
-The passage suggests that Simeon's pioneering stint in vertical reclusion:elicited displeasure from contemporary authorities.offered Tennyson a powerful emblem of self-glorifying martyrdom.may have served for Alypius partly as a goal for which to strive.

Question

Passage
Of the myriad problems facing translators, perhaps the most significant lies in the tension between what a text conveys and the words used to convey it.  Strict fidelity to the specific words of a text often fails to capture the full sense of its meaning.  Beyond this loss of meaning can also arise a loss of artistry and structural features which often cannot be replicated.For instance, a fully evocative rendering of the 119th Psalm seems unattainable.  Comprising twenty-two strophes of eight lines each, the one hundred and seventy-six verses do appear somewhat poetic in translation.  But in the original Hebrew the Psalm is an acrostic: the verses of the first strophe all begin with the letter Aleph, those of the second with Beth, and so on, with Tav, the last letter of the alphabet, commencing the final eight verses.  The reader of a translation would, understandably, be ignorant of this fact.  While this does not affect the essential meaning of the verses, it does affect their character-something is lost from the original in its non-native presentation.  Although there have been occasional attempts to mimic this structure in other languages, they have all been unsuccessful.  The tortured and unnatural wording that results proves the wisdom of most translators in prioritizing readability.  Nevertheless, the Psalmist wrote with a particular purpose that is left untransmitted.  The sacrifice of the acrostic, however necessary, is regrettable.Another concern is what might be called translational multiplicity.  Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges famously remarked: "The Quixote, due to my congenital practice of Spanish, is a uniform monument, with no other variations… the Odyssey, thanks to my opportune ignorance of Greek, is an international bookstore of works in prose and verse."  To speak of "the" Odyssey, or more generally, "the" text of any work, runs headlong into the reality that for translated works, "the text" is not a unitary entity but a collection of candidates.  Thus, a perennial difficulty of translation is conveyed through Borges' idiosyncratic presentation.  Or is it?  For Borges' remarks are elsewhere listed as: "Since Spanish is my native language, the Quixote is to me an unchanging monument, with no possible variations….  But the Odyssey, thanks to my opportune ignorance of Greek, is a library of works in prose and verse."  That we might ask which of these translations more closely represents his actual words is a fact that Borges would likely have found amusing.Considerations of this sort are magnified when one approaches the writings not only of individual authors, but of past civilizations.  Despite being one of the world's foremost sinologists, the late D. C. Lau was convinced that none of us truly understand classical Chinese.  The sentiment was no mere expression of modesty; fellow scholar Roger Ames described Lau as "[h]aving assimilated the classical corpus through a lifetime of careful study and reflection."  Rather, Lau was keenly aware of the difficult truth that the fluidity of language and culture over time can shroud the works of the ancients in obscurities that may be inscrutable to even their most passionately curious descendants.Modern works may also be altered, however, and sometimes through more subtle types of translation.  The book known as Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in England was changed to refer instead to the "Sorcerer's Stone" in the United States, reportedly due to a belief that the original title would be unpalatable to an American audience.  While that depressing assumption may indeed have been correct, the change removes a titular connection to a pre-existing myth.  The generic fantasy idea with which it is replaced thus fails to embody the full character of the original work.
-The passage suggests that Simeon's pioneering stint in vertical reclusion:elicited displeasure from contemporary authorities.offered Tennyson a powerful emblem of self-glorifying martyrdom.may have served for Alypius partly as a goal for which to strive.

Quizplus · Accepted Answer

According to Paragraph 6, "Tennyson composed an ironic verse in which [Simeon] the stylite boasts, 'Show me the man hath suffered more than I.'" This quote implies that, in Tennyson's view, Simeon thought that he had surpassed all other religious recluses in the extremity of his self-denying practices and suffering and, therefore, considered himself a great martyr (ie, someone who willingly endures suffering for the sake of his or her beliefs). Consequently, the passage suggests that Simeon's pioneering stint in vertical reclusion offered Tennyson a powerful emblem of self-glorifying martyrdom (Number II). Paragraph 6 states that "Simeon inspired more than a few imitators" and specifically that his "feat was surpassed by Alypius, who is said to have lived atop his pillar for a total of 67 years." As Simeon's own stint was only "37 years" (Paragraph 5), Alypius' total time atop his column was indeed far longer than his predecessor's. Accordingly, the passage suggests that Simeon's pioneering stint in vertical reclusion may have served the stylite Alypius partly as a goal for which to strive (Number III). (Number I) Paragraph 5 states that Simeon "won the veneration (great respect or reverence) of Emperor Theodosius," thus providing an example of a contemporary authority showing respect for Simeon. Therefore, the passage does not support the idea that Simeon's pioneering stint in vertical reclusion elicited (drew forth) displeasure from contemporary authorities.

Passage Of the Myriad Problems Facing Translators, Perhaps the Most Significant