More on A.H. Birse

A.H. Birse and his Memoirs of an Interpreter is a history thick book full of many details and references to circumstances very specific and somewhat arcane despite the context, WWII, the big three conferences, etc.

There are two chapters that are specifically dealing with the profession and task of interpreting. Birse is a banker and a bilingual UK national. He is an above middle class gentleman, well versed and well traveled who happen to be brought into the war's maelstrom and apply to help his country as a duty. That's why he ends up interpreting between famous head of states, not out of interpreting vocation but out of duty.

You would not call Birse a great writer. He is not into this career. Yet, the two chapters directly dealing with interpretation are different. It doesn't come as a surprise that the book's back cover comes adorned with an an extract of the most thrilling part of the book, the one where he describes how he is brought into suddenly having to interpret between Churchill and Stalin. All of the sudden his style changes for the best. I have read that chapter many times now - Prime Minister's Interpreter - not only because it is thrilling, movie like at some points, and very moving, but because non-professional interpreter Birse goes through essentials factors surrounding the task of interpreting. He does so and more in the following chapter, The business of Interpreting, on purpose, while in the previous chapter everything that pertains to the task of interpreting is wrapped up in first class haunting narrative. I am unwrapping the gift now.

At the beginning of the chapter, Birse is in Moscow and the reader is showered with people's name and circumstances, some bouts at minor interpreting but nothing in terms of  "action". Then, something happens that makes the writing switch onto adventure mode :

"Theakstone was waiting for me with an urgent message : "the Ambassador wanted to speak to me on the telephone".

Assignments, or missions, starts the very moment there is a call of duty. The call triggers that special brewing in the head, the call of the mission. Managing the mind commotion should come as a strategy, that is, turning confusion into preparation. Birse is to deliver.

"the Embassy interpreter was ill and I was to replace him at Churchill's talk with Stalin that night ...."

Talk about a short notice assignment. Double the fees.

"I protested that I had had no experience of political talks, and that I should certainly be below the standard required ..."

Standard indeed. Our hero is shunning back from the call of adventure. A classic. Bilbo the Hobbit does so.

"I understood it was an order."

Remember, it's military stuff. Duty comes first, more than competences.

"The prospect of meeting two of the world's leaders at such a short notice, quite apart from the technical difficulties of interpreting a subject with which I was unacquainted, agitated me to a degree."

Describing to the self the agitation is also with Birse the very start of a process that is essential and should be performed in organized manner : anticipation, of what is at stake, of what can be feared, and of what can be used to nurture the comfort zone, the domain even tiny where one can with some aplomb murmur : "This at least, I can do it."

"But there was little time for reflection, and I resigned myself to the inevitable."

Buddhist like? Not yet. Or another way to brace. Anyway, things start moving, automobile way, as a car is sent to fetch Birse to Churchill's villa.

"During the drive I had tried to reason with myself."

The myself is a too, dichotomy, ying and yang. A perpetual dialogue. But effective reasoning comes with organized anticipation. Birse gets into that mode deeper. But first, he modifies the tension by manipulating the players to come.

"I determined to try to forget who these two men were, and act as if I were interpreting for two ordinary individuals."

Anticipation may start with a review of the gears one have, rather the incompleteness.

"I could not foresee what they would discuss, but so far, at least on army matters, I had never been at a loss."

Next, list what could happen based on matter of facts.

"I realized that the talk would probably concern problems of the highest importance, and I could only hope that they were not unduly impatient men and would not demand the impossible."

Reasoning based on the expectation for men, even head of states, to be reasonable.

"After all, I was only a substitute interpreter."

Pat the cheek of the trembling child inside.

Next comes ... anticipating, not what they may talk about, but what they look like.

"What would Churchill be like? Impossible to imagine, for I had not met anyone who had worked closely with him."

Unfortunately, Wikipedia was not around, yet.

"And Stalin? If he was the embodiment of the Soviet system, at least I knew something about it!"

I ate your bortch already, and know how it's cooked.

"Anyhow, I told myself, it would be thrilling to meet those two men, if only for a few minutes - something to write home about, the censorship permitting."

Birse starts anticipating the thrill of it all, starting with people, then, places.

"It would also be an achievement to get inside the Kremlin, for no one except diplomats on business or attending exceptional functions was permitted to enter."

To enter the magic castle. There's a dash of Tintin Reporter here, and the trembling child is now giggling, somewhat.

But now, the characters come on stage.

"Presently a broad, solid figure in a dressing-gown appeared in one of the doorways. Churchill!"

Theatrical.

"Major Birse? The Ambassador has spoken to me about you. You will interpret for me tonight. I shall be ready in a few minutes, and we will drive together to the Kremlin."

Remembering people's name and calling them by their names. A big step forward in powerful communication.

"A few minutes later, I was seated beside him in a large ZIS car, with a Russian chauffeur and the Prime Minister's detective sitting in front. As we drove out of the villa grounds, I could see a couple of cars with NKVD guards starting behind us. They escorted us all the way."

Most cinematographic part of the chapter. I can fantasize the moving scene, cartoon like (Belgian style), or Hitchcock. A short fatty Russian crosses the screen.

Next come the small talk, what can turn into real bonding between customer and interpreter.

"Churchill asked me whether I had met Stalin before. (...) He said that some of the previous talks had been rather tense, and that he now wanted to put Stalin into a better temper before he left Moscow."

Birse doesn't have to inquire about the purpose, what the client's want to take home by the end of the session, because Churchill just delivers.


Unwelcome ...

"Stalin was standing beside the writing table, looking glum and sulky I thought, and there was no smile of greeting in his face."

Birse doesn't conclude but just "thinks" that the look means "glum".

"I had my scribbling pad with me, with two or three sharpened pencils which I alway carried in my pocket, and I set these out in front of me ready, ready to begin."

Add to this a wireless connexion to the Internet for dictionnary query, a digital dictionnary (if no connexion), and who knows what more.

The glum side starts melting ...

"At first Stalin hardly ever looked up, seemingly absorbed in doodling, but one or twice during my translation he looked at me, the first time with no expression at all, but later something like a look of approval seemed to emerge, like the sun breaking through the dark clouds."

Churchill to his interpreter in between :

"Are you getting me across all right?
I replied that I thought I was, whereupon the said :
'I think you are doing very well.'"

The mystery of the client not knowing the language but feeling that he is gotten across.
On the other side, Spring is in full swing :

"By this time Stalin's face had lighted up and he had permitted himself an occasional smile ..."

To what extend the interpreter has been contributing to this shift of mind? Birse doesn't elaborate, but probably, something Birse like was causal to the ice melting, which was by the way Churchill's objective.

Now the glasses are being poured and everyone is getting more cordial. Churchill goes to the loo (only James Bond can afford not to be human) and Birse alone with Stalin and Molotov (that drink mix) for a while is bombarded with questions.

"Meanwhile both Stalin and Molotov, plied me with questions about myself, where I had learnt Russian, how many years I had spent in Russia ..."

The client comes back in the room ...

"When Churchill rejoined us, and heard my carrying on a conversation with them, he seemed a little bit perturbed, but I reassured him that I was only answering questions about my past."

The gift, the booster :

"As we were preparing to leave, Churchill turned to me and said :
'I am very pleased with you. In future I will want you always to interpret for me.'"

"Any fatigue I was feeling seemed to disappear in a flash, and I felt ready to continue for another seven hours if necessary."

Even for this single chapter, I is meaningful to read Memoirs of an Interpreter by A.H. Birse.