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Book Notes: From Saying the Same Thing Twice to Summing It All Up
Summary of the Content
Saying the Same Thing TwiceThe text identifies three types of redundant repetition in Chinglish:
Simple restatement: Repeating an idea with different words (e.g., “We must practice economy and reduce unnecessary expenditures”).
Self-evident statements: Stating the obvious (e.g., “To increase soil fertility, we should use fertilizer”).
Mirror-image statements: Presenting the same idea in positive and negative forms (e.g., “We must maintain vigilance and never be off guard”).
Repeated References to the Same ThingsThis part addresses over-reliance on full phrases or terms when referring to the same concept. Solutions include:
Shortening with pronouns (“it,” “them”), summary nouns (“these matters”), or initials (e.g., “NPC” for “National People’s Congress”).
Eliminating redundant modifiers (e.g., “State Council departments” → “the departments”).
Summing It All UpThe author emphasizes that brevity is key in English. Redundancy wastes readers’ time, obscures meaning, and weakens text quality. However, translators must balance conciseness with faithfulness to the original intent, considering context and audience.
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Evaluation
The writing style here is practical and illustrative—the author uses dozens of real Chinglish examples (e.g., “We must work hard to gain professional proficiency and become skilled in our work”) and their polished revisions, making abstract rules tangible. This “show, don’t tell” approach is brilliant for learners.
The theme—fighting redundancy in translation—is hyper-targeted. It zeros in on a pain point for Chinese-English translators: the tendency to over-explain due to cultural or linguistic habits (e.g., Chinese’s tolerance for repetition). The author’s message is clear but nuanced: redundancy isn’t always bad (e.g., for emphasis), but it’s rarely necessary in most formal writing.
What I love most is the humanity in the advice. The author acknowledges that translators might hesitate to cut “sacred” phrases from official texts, but urges them to prioritize clarity over literalism. It’s a reminder that language serves meaning, not the other way around.
Reflection
Reading this section made me cringe—hard—at my own past writing. As a student, I used to pad essays with phrases like “In order to achieve the goal of improving…” or “We must make efforts to work hard,” thinking they sounded “formal.” Now I see: they’re just fluff.
This book isn’t just about translation; it’s about communication ethics. Redundancy isn’t harmless—it’s lazy. When we repeat ourselves, we’re disrespecting the reader’s time. For example, in my internship last summer, I drafted a report with sentences like “The project aims to boost efficiency and increase productivity.” A colleague gently pointed out: “‘Boost efficiency’ already covers productivity—why say both?” I felt embarrassed, but she was right.
On a broader level, this resonates with how we communicate in daily life. How often do we over-explain to sound “polite” or “thorough”? (“I’m really, truly sorry for being a little late—I mean, super late.”) The book teaches that precision and brevity are kinder. Say what needs saying, once, clearly. |
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