top of page

Philippine Literature in Translation and the Art of Crossing Borders: What Is Lost When Philippine Literature Changes Languages?

  • 2 hours ago
  • 5 min read

Words by Mye Mulingtapang


Colorful abstract book cover of Lumbay ng Dila by Genevieve L. Asenjo.

Translation as an invisible art

When you pick up a book that’s been translated from another language, you might wonder how the translation was done. If the book reads smoothly and keeps the feel of the original language and structure, it shows the translator put in a lot of effort. Still, it’s hard to judge how faithful a translation is or how much it has been changed. What exactly does translation do? Some argue that translation should remain as faithful as possible to the original text, while others believe adaptation is necessary when languages and cultures differ.​


Filipina feminist, journalist, and human rights activist Ninotchka Rosca, celebrated for her novel State of War, believes translation is both an art and a responsibility. She considers translation a difficult art that requires not only knowing the languages one is working with but also the historical and social contexts of expressions and metaphors.


Filipina writer Ninotchka Rosca, author of State of War and Twice Blessed, widely recognised for her contributions to literature, feminism, and social justice.

​“I did a lot of translations for unions, since there are professions in the US with large Filipino immigrant labor. Very often, I’d have to explain to the communications department why certain phrases had to be recast. One piece of feedback I got was a question about why I wasn’t using Taglish; I replied that Taglish varies with circumstances and the vocabulary pertinent to the work being done. One group’s Taglish could differ from others,” said Rosca.

Rosca argues that translation is never a simple transfer of words from one language to another. The greatest challenge often lies in preserving meanings embedded in culture, history, and social context. She recalls struggling to translate Pete Lacaba's phrase Santong Paspasan, searching for an English equivalent that could retain both its street-language humor and its unsettling undertones.


​"I ended up with Blessed Banging," she said, "trying to maintain the humor and the social context of the language Pete used."

If the languages are close, especially in structure, it’s easier to stay true to the original. But when the languages are very different, with unique ways of expressing ideas, a good translation might need to change the text a bit. Sometimes, to capture the spirit and deeper meaning of a work, the translator has to move away from the exact words of the original.


There is nothing quite like reading a book in its original language, though most readers can only guess how close a translation comes to the real thing. What truly matters is when a translation shines, capturing the style and rhythm of the original so beautifully that it feels alive in a new tongue. This is the translator’s art. Yet, when this delicate touch is missing, even the most brilliant stories can fade, and a Filipino novel in English might sound jarring to our ears.


For a country with hundreds of languages and dialects, Philippine literature in translation plays a crucial role in connecting readers across regions while introducing Filipino stories to international audiences and in shaping the future.

Why Translation Matters in the Philippines

For Rosca, translation is important to the evolution of literature. Especially for a country with 187 languages, translation is a necessary tool of cultural diffusion. Just as a common language is necessary to unite linguistic diversity.


“There’s so much resistance to the idea of a common language that it hampers, for instance, translation from Mindanaoan languages to Tagalog and vice versa. We end up with English translations, which in turn limits our readership base. Japan, Latin America, South Korea – their literature rests on a solid local appreciation – i.e., they have very strong national readership bases. We don’t,” added Rosca.

While Rosca approaches translation from the perspective of a translator and cultural mediator, authors whose works are translated into another language face a different challenge: finding someone capable of conveying not only their words but also their sensibility. For Genevieve L. Asenjo, whose novel Lumbay ng Dila will be appearing in English as The Melancholy of the Tongue, translation became an act of collaboration and trust.


Genevieve L. Asenjo, award-winning Filipino author and scholar, whose work explores language, memory, identity, and the complexities of Philippine literature in translation.

In her conversation with Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta about The Melancholy of the Tongue, Asenjo highlights that it is about making a new space for connection. For authors whose works are translated into another language, the challenge is equally complex. Asenjo emphasised that translation involves more than vocabulary and grammar.


Explaining why she recommended novelist and translator Anna Margarita Nuñez for the project, Asenjo said a translator must also carry a work's sensibility, rhythm, and cultural texture into another language. For her, successful translation is not simply about accuracy but about recreating a reading experience for a new audience while remaining faithful to the spirit of the original.


Asenjo said she recommended Anna Margarita Nuñez because she trusted her ability to carry not only the language but also the sensibility of the novel.


“I have really in mind Anna Margarita Nunez because she’s a colleague and a good friend who is a brilliant novelist herself who came out with her first novel Hanaw, about Iligan City in Mindanao. She has competence in both Filipino and the English language, and I believe she can translate or when we speak of translation, it’s not only lexical, right? You also translate sensibility, the rhythm, cultures,” said Asenjo.

International visibility for Philippine literature has improved significantly in the last 20 years,, according to Rosca, a change she attributes in part to the breaking down of racial and cultural barriers in international publishing.


For Rosca, two factors underlie Philippine literature’s weak visibility. First, a large percentage of our population overseas did not read even before the advent of the Internet; it’s gotten worse since then. Second,  there's a derivative sameness to our literary perspective, the absence of originality in theme and presentation in our narratives and poetry.


“This is not limited to literature; one sees it in the visual arts, theatre, films, music.  It’s the market determining aesthetics. International visibility is, ironically, affected by both originality and familiarity, in terms of universal themes presented from a different perspective and in a different way,” shared Rosca.


Translating is like stepping through the looking glass. We hope the reflection on the other side will match the original, yet as words journey between languages, they emerge changed and renewed. Translators are not simply linguistic intermediaries; they act as co-creators who help shape a text for a new audience while preserving its original spirit.


Carrying memory, culture, rhythm, and history into a new linguistic home is a delicate art. Through translated literature, we step into unknown worlds, discover fresh perspectives, safeguard traditions, and open ourselves to ideas that reshape our thinking.


Translation is widely discussed today, if not overwhelmingly, but not always adequately. The important thing is not to simply consider it a link in the editorial chain, or, worse, to involve the translator only as mere support for the promotion of a work, but to recognize its fundamental role in mediating between cultures.


Looking ahead, translation will play an ever more vital role in sharing world literature. As our world grows more interconnected, bridging cultures and fostering understanding becomes essential, and literary translation stands at the heart of this endeavor.



Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page