From 2012: Within the first sentence of “The Stranger,” two subtle and seemingly minor translation decisions have the power to change the way we read everything that follows.
For the modern American reader, few lines in French literature are as famous as the opening of Albert Camus’s “L’Étranger”: “.” Nitty-gritty tense issues aside, the first sentence of “The Stranger” is so elementary that even a schoolboy with a base knowledge of French could adequately translate it. So why do the pros keep getting it wrong?
In 1982, both Joseph Laredo and Kate Griffith produced new translations of “L’Étranger,” each opting for Gilbert’s revised title, “The Stranger,” but preserving his first line. “Mother died today” remained, and it wasn’t until 1988 that the line saw a single word changed. It was then that American translator and poet Matthew Ward reverted “Mother” back to.
Finally, and perhaps most important, the American reader will harbor no preconceived notions of the word. We will understand it with ease, but it will carry no baggage, it will plant no unintended seeds in our head. The word will neither sway us to see Meursault as overly cold and heartless nor as overly warm and loving.