2225: People Asking for “Literal” Translations of Games Aren’t Looking for Google Translate

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There’s been a lot of discussion over this topic on Twitter recently, thanks in part to the recent release of Fire Emblem Fates and its somewhat controversial localisation by Nintendo of America. There’s a lot of noise and ill-informed opinion being thrown around by both “sides” of the debate, so I thought it would be a good time to stick my own oar in and muddy the waters still further.

There are basically two sides to the argument over Fire Emblem specifically. It’s actually a little more complicated than that, but for the sake of simplicity we’ll look at two core beliefs.

On one side, you have people who are arguing that they want a literal, authentic recreation of the Japanese original, only in the English language. They want character names to stay the same; they want conversations to unfold in the same way; they want all the same content that the Japanese players had in the game.

On the other, you have people who are arguing that during the localisation process, changes are both necessary and inevitable in order to fit the needs of the new market. The exact definition of these needs varies according to who you speak to — some suggest it’s to do with a corporation (Nintendo of America in this case) wanting to continue curating a very specific brand image, while others suggest it’s a cultural thing: things that are acceptable, palatable or recognisable to the original Japanese audience may mean nothing to an English-speaking demographic.

Both sides have their points. I’ve enjoyed localised games that err very much on one side or the other. Slice-of-life visual novels, for example, very much benefit from remaining true to the original Japanese as much as possible: interpersonal relationships in particular unfold in very different ways in Japan, and maintaining things like the honorifics in a text help to reflect the different ways people defer to one another according to perceived social hierarchy. Along the same lines, role-playing games that are very much steeped in Japanese culture — the Persona series is a good example — also benefit from remaining as true as possible to the original Japanese script as much as possible, since, like visual novels, the relationships between characters are often dependent on Japanese societal norms rather than Western ones.

On the other side of the fence, some more drastic localisations have been very good, too. Few people would argue that the Ace Attorney series is extraordinarily well written in its English incarnation, but it’s very different to its Japanese counterpart, largely because a lot of the puns and jokes in the original Japanese simply wouldn’t make sense in English. Same with the Neptunia series, whose original translation by NIS America is the source of some ire for more die-hard fans, but which has also remained the standard by which the series continues to be localised today. And the same with Final Fantasy XIV, whose floridly Shakespearean script was so good in English a lot of the changes actually ended up backported into Japanese.

Personally speaking, my priority for the most part is getting to play games that I wouldn’t otherwise have the chance to play. I don’t like content being cut and I don’t like feeling that the experience I’m having is noticeably inferior to the Japanese original, but if it’s a game I want to play and the changes are relatively unobtrusive — Dungeon Travelers 2 is a good example, since this is technically “censored” in places through the modification of a few images, but the changes are minor at best, and the game probably wouldn’t have seen release if they hadn’t been made — then I’ll happily support the efforts of companies who attempt to bring games over as unscathed as possible.

I can’t say I feel massively strongly about Fire Emblem Fates in particular because I have no real attachment to the series, but there are a number of issues with the localisation that I really don’t like. One is the removal of content that wasn’t offensive in the first place — the “head-patting” minigame, which is a reflection of the Japanese tendency to use head-pats as a sign of affection — not necessarily attraction or lust — between characters. Another is the outright butchering of the script that has taken place in a number of parts, most notably the support conversation between two characters which was an in-depth discussion of finding common ground, honour among thieves and whatnot in Japanese, but which has been replaced with four screens of them going “…” to each other in English. That is not, in any way, acceptable localisation, because it’s completely changing the original intent of the scene.

Now onto the point I wanted to make with the title of this post: the “localisation means changes” brigade have a couple of favourite arguments. Let’s take them in turn.

You want a literal translation? Run the script through Google Translate and see how you like it.

This is by far the most common, and it’s based on a flawed assumption: the fact that people asking for a “literal” translation are literally asking for a literal translation, when they’re not. In a way, it’s their own fault for using the word “literal” perhaps incorrectly; “authentic” or “true to the original” might be a better description, but “literal” is the term that people tend to prefer to use, so let’s stick with that for now.

No, as I discussed above, the people who want a “literal” translation are not asking for the text to be run through Google Translate, because, among other reasons, the differences in grammar between languages butchers the original intent of the scene beyond all recognition. What they are asking for is the scene to be correctly translated into its closest possible English equivalent, without any changes based on perceived appropriateness according to Western cultural norms. What they are also asking for is the maintaining of the text’s “Japaneseness” as much as possible: that means maintaining the use of honorifics and concepts with no direct translation such as senpai and the use of onii-san/onee-san to people who aren’t your brother/sister.

That’s not a particularly unreasonable ask, is it? Doesn’t that show a degree of respect to the original creators, an awareness of your audience and also has the added benefit of potentially teaching people about another culture? Some games actually run with this concept; visual novel Steins;Gate, for example, features an interactive hyperlinked glossary of Japanese terminology used in the game, including Japanese Internet memes and slang as well as more widespread cultural concepts.

So no. People asking for a “literal” translation aren’t asking for the script to be fed through the mangler that is Google Translate. So stop responding to arguments they aren’t making.

You want the authentic experience? Just learn Japanese. Oh, I forgot, learning a language is more difficult than complaining.

The whole point of localisation is so that new audiences have access to works from other cultures. Through a culture’s art, we can learn about them, understand them, appreciate them — or, in some cases, be happy with what we’ve got ourselves! By mangling the cultural authenticity of a text, be it by inserting random Internet memes — which not only spoil the character of the piece in most cases, they also date it horribly — or by stripping out elements that made it authentically “Japanese” in the first place, you’re doing a disservice to the original work, and to the audience who wants to know more about another culture that they find fascinating.

Moreover, a lot of people who argue in favour of drastic localisation changes are the same people who are constantly bleating on about buzzword of the moment “diversity” — used here to mean “celebrating anything that isn’t by a white man”. Isn’t stomping all over the text of another culture using Western sensibilities the very antithesis of the “diversity” that seems to be the Holy Grail among progressive types at the moment?

Anyway. Asking people to learn Japanese isn’t a terrible argument: not only does it let you play the original versions of localised games, it also gives you access to a huge library of titles that never make it across the ocean. But it’s also not a particularly practical option for a lot of people. Japanese is a complicated language that takes a long time to learn, and some people simply don’t have the right kind of mindset to effectively study a new language, particularly if they’re a little older and their brain finds it more difficult to take in entirely new language-related information. Should people who are unable to study Japanese for whatever reason be denied access to authentic experiences? No, of course not.

I’ve seen both sides of this argument unfolding recently and it’s frankly getting rather tiresome — mostly because many of the arguments, as we’ve seen above, are based on mistaken assumptions. This has been a worryingly growing trend over the last few years, and it’s this, in part, that has led to the overwhelmingly negative atmosphere a lot of online interactions carry over their heads these days; everyone is afraid to offend everyone else.

In this instance, I would be inclined to defer to the opinions of people who passionately consume Japanese games and other media, and who want an authentic experience from their localised material. It’s not as if we’re short of Western experiences for people who find heavily Japanese titles “too Japanese” or otherwise inaccessible for some reason, and ultimately keeping things as true to their original form as possible helps everyone to understand each other that little bit better, which is surely the best possible outcome to all this.

But I’m sure this argument will keep raging and no-one will pay any attention to what I’ve said here, so what do I know…

2198: Petting Waifus and Gay Conversion

It came to light today that Nintendo of America apparently hasn’t stopped with the localisation edits to the upcoming Fire Emblem Fates that had already been revealed: it seems that the “petting” minigame, during which you can directly interact with the characters in your party — male and female — and improve your relationships with them has been excised completely. Kotaku described this as a “minor change in the name of localisation”.

Perhaps it is “minor”. Perhaps it is an unnecessary part of the game. Perhaps those who are unaware of the Japanese version won’t even know it was there to be missed. But none of this changes the fact that a feature of the game — with this being the first Fire Emblem game where you could directly interact with party members in this way — has been removed entirely from the Western release, giving English speakers a version of the game which is comparitively gimped when placed alongside its original Japanese source material.

Before I go any further, I’d like to talk a little about my general views on localisation. In short: localisation can be helpful and sometimes necessary to ensure that the right audience can access a work. The Ace Attorney series, for example, benefited considerably from its rather drastic localisation, opening it up to a much broader audience than those who would have been comfortable with a protagonist called Naruhodo Ryuuichi rather than Phoenix Wright.

For me, the key thing when considering how drastic localisation changes should or could be is the question of cultural context. Sometimes the inherently Japanese context of a work is important — key examples include titles like the Persona series, which is set in and around Japanese high schools; the Shenmue series, whose entire first game was set in a few lovingly rendered regions of a Japanese town; the Yakuza series, which is about as accurate a simulation of Japanese nightlife as you’re going to get, regular street brawls aside; the Senran Kagura series, which is steeped in both Japanese mythology and cultural peculiarities such as student rivalries and, you know, being a ninja; and any number of visual novels you’d care to mention, which often rely heavily on conventions of Japanese culture, particularly with regard to interpersonal relationships.

For other titles, though, it’s less important to keep this authentically Japanese feel to it. Something like my perennial favourite the Hyperdimension Neptunia series, for example, works well with the breezy tone of its localisation, though more diehard fans remain dissatisfied with character traits introduced through NIS America’s original translations of the PlayStation 3 games prior to Idea Factory International taking matters into their own hands. Likewise, the localisation of Final Fantasy XIV was excellently handled, featuring some well-done and deliberately flowery — almost Shakespearean at times — dialogue that many have noted added considerable depth to the original source’s writing. Indeed, in Final Fantasy XIV’s case, many of the things introduced through its localisation have found themselves “backported” to the Japanese version, so well-received were they — though I will admit if you know even a bit of Japanese, playing the game with Japanese voices and comparing to the English subtitles can be a little jarring.

Anyway: the point is, I’m not opposed to localisation where it’s appropriate or necessary to broaden a work’s appeal, and particularly if said work is aimed at mass market but is still riddled with Japanese cultural references no-one but 1) Japanese people and 2) weeaboos will recognise. Where a specifically Japanese tone and feel is necessary to an authentic translation of the work, though, I’d rather the translation be as literal (but readable) as possible where it can.

And so we come to Fire Emblem Fates. What we have here is a title that isn’t particularly Japanese in feel or tone, since Fire Emblem has always erred on a stereotypically Western approach to fantasy at times. As such, I wouldn’t be opposed to localisation changes that help a broad audience to access, understand and appreciate the work as a whole by toning down its “Japaneseness”.

That’s not what we’re getting though. Fire Emblem Fates’ most drastic localisation edits are nothing to do with helping people understand and access the work, but they are everything to do with minimising offense. Take the notorious “gay conversion” scene, for example: the original hoohah over this came about as a result of some Tumblrina spilling her spaghetti everywhere over what she perceived to be a male protagonist spiking the drink of a lesbian character and “converting” her to being straight enough to marry him. In actuality, the scene is about nothing of the sort: not only is the “magic powder” used to improve her battle effectiveness rather than get her into bed — fainting the moment you get close to a man isn’t a good way to wage war — but the female character in question, Soleil, might not even be gay in the first place, if the Fire Emblem Wiki is to be believed: all Soleil’s romantic interests are male, making the matter perhaps more one of something related to androphobia rather than homosexuality.

And as for the removal of the “petting” minigame, it just feels like a “mother knows best” moment; like we Westerners are somehow expected to be shocked and appalled enough at the prospect of physically interacting with a video game character and faint on the couch in protest.

I don’t like this trend. It feels like a reversal of all the good work that was done in the late ’90s and early ’00s, where games were regularly praised for having the guts to include adult content other than the “usual” violence. I vividly recall Sierra’s adventures Police Quest 4 and Gabriel Knight being highlighted as examples of the medium maturing because of their willingness to include the word “fuck” in their scripts, previously never heard in a game; and likewise I remember PC Zone magazine running a feature in one of its early issues about Megatech’s hentai games, noting that their willingness to tackle adult themes — just like anime, which was starting to become popular and fashionable in the UK around the same time — was a sign that some game makers were finally starting to acknowledge that games weren’t just for kids.

I’m no fan of Fire Emblem generally — largely due to a lack of experience with the series rather than an actual dislike of it — but these types of big changes made for the wrong reasons make me somewhat uncomfortable, because they’re sanitising works of art in the name of appeasing small but loud groups of people, many of whom likely wouldn’t have played the game in the first place. It’s babying the Western audience, protecting them from things that might “offend” us, whereas one of the best things about art — any form of art, whatever the medium — is its ability to challenge us and get us to think about things in a different way. If you wipe out everything that might offend someone somewhere from art, you’re left with a castrated culture that increasingly wants to retreat into its “safe spaces” rather than explore the strange, wonderful, terrible and fascinating things writers come up with.

Not to mention the inherent hypocrisy: Western games don’t get butchered in this way in the name of “think of the children”. Grand Theft Auto features strip club scenes where you can have a first-person view of a lap dance, which provides no gameplay benefits whatsoever. The recent Thief reboot featured a level where you could peek through a hole in a wall and witness an explicit BDSM sex scene — again, for no real reason other than for background decoration. One of the Far Cry games from a while back opened with a first-person sex scene. And there’s the multitude of banging scenes in the Witcher series.

I don’t object to any of the above — I’m of the opinion that it’s nice for games to treat me like an adult who can handle seeing sexual material. But when Western games get away with stuff as explicit as this, whereas Fire Emblem Fates gets butchered for something far tamer than anything the aforementioned games included, I cry foul. It makes me particularly uncomfortable as a fan of Japanese games to feel that titles from certain publishers or localisation teams aren’t providing me with an experience that’s completely true to the source material. It may still be great, sure — and everything seems to indicate that Fire Emblem Fates is an ambitious, excellent game — but the experience is somewhat marred by the knowledge that I’m missing out on something that other regions are more than happy to include.

I hope this is a trend which fizzles out quickly; the sooner we get over this inane desire to “protect” people from content they might want to see, the better; in the meantime, I’m more than happy to continue supporting developers and publishers who bring titles over mostly if not completely unscathed: groups like Idea Factory International, Marvelous Europe, Koei Tecmo (with the exception of Dead or Alive Xtreme 3, of course), XSEED Games and latter-day NIS America.

“Gaming needs to grow up,” the argument frequently runs. Well, for that to happen, you need to start acknowledging players like adults first.