费米尔

翻译目的论是费米尔在1978年发表的《普通翻译理论框架》一书中提出的。

他强调翻译目的论包括三大原则，即目的性原则（Skopos Rule）、连贯性原则（Coherence Rule）和忠实性原则（Fidelity Rule）。

1、目的性原则是核心原则，指翻译目的决定了翻译行为的整个过程，翻译目的也就是翻译要求，包括译文接收者的使用目的、时间、地点、情形、交际媒介及译文应有的功能等。

2、连贯性原则是指语内连贯，在连贯性指导下帮助譯者选择翻译策略实现译文的连贯。

译文在目的语文化中有实际意义，译文接受者必须能读懂译文。

3、忠实性原则是指翻译目的和译者对原文的理解决定了译文和原文的相似度，译文和原文之间要有语际连贯。

在此原则中，忠实的程度和形式是由译者对原文本的理解所决定的，也取决于翻译的目的，可以随目的的不同而变化。

上述三个原则之间的关系是：忠实原则服从于连贯原则，而这二者又服从于目的原则。

著名插画师作品及简介
1. 阿维德·阿布拉黑姆 (Avi Abrams)：他是一位以科幻和奇幻
题材为主的插画师。

他的作品风格独特，融合了细节精致的线条和强烈的色彩对比，常常带有神秘和梦幻的氛围。

2. 范·阿洛伊斯·费米尔 (Van Allouis Fermier)：他是一位法国插
画师，擅长绘制具有浓厚奇幻色彩的作品。

他的作品常常充满了超现实的元素，像是从幻想世界中走出来的一样。

3. 塞尔吉·拉迪利(Sergei Radilov)：他是俄罗斯著名的插画师，以绘制幻想和荒诞主题的作品而闻名。

他的作品通常具有浓厚的象征意义，用线条和色彩表达出内心深处的情感和思考。

4. 卡尔·奥威尔 (Karl Ove)：他是一位挪威插画师，擅长绘制独特的怪兽和奇异的生物。

他的作品充满了幽默与想象力，常常带有一种让人发笑和思考的冲突感。

5. 伊万·奥尔沙斯基(Ivan Orsmanski)：他是一位乌克兰插画师，以细腻的线条和明亮的色彩而闻名。

他的作品经常展现出内心世界和情感的表达，质朴而富有情感。

这些著名插画师的作品以其独特的风格和创意而受到广大观众的喜爱。

他们的作品常常通过画笔的表现力，传递出对世界和生活的独特理解。

无论是科幻、奇幻还是超现实主题，他们都给人们带来了无尽的想象力和创造力。

柯西不等式在解析几何方面的几个应用
柯西不等式是十九世纪七十年代意大利数学家费米尔柯西提出的，他在解析几何的理论中发挥了重要的作用，同时在抽象代数几何方面也有着深远的影响。

柯西不等式可以说是几何学中最重要的数学定理之一，它指出一个三角形内部最大内角和最小外角之和是180度。

它是解析几何中一个重要的基础定理，有着多种应用。

首先，对角线分割三角形。

如果对一个三角形进行分割，则研究者可以用柯西不等式来求解分割后的各个三角形的最大内角和最小
外角之和。

另外，通过柯西不等式可以判断一个角的类型，比如：如果三角形的两个内角之和大于180度，则该角是钝角；反之，如果小于180度，则该角是锐角。

另外，柯西不等式也可以用来求解各边长和角度之间的关系，或者说求解三角形的边长。

由于柯西不等式是解析几何中的基础定理，因此，它也可以用于求解几何中的其他问题，比如：如何画出一个四边形的平行四边形，或者求出一个多边形的中间点。

此外，柯西不等式也可以用来解决三角形的几何问题，比如：计算三角形的垂直角高，计算三角形的面积，以及计算三角形的长度。

例如，三角形的垂直角高可以利用柯西不等式来求解，而求解三角形面积则要使用海伦公式，这也是柯西不等式的一种应用。

最后，柯西不等式在微积分学中也有应用，它可以用来求解关于三角形的一些函数的积分，比如求解多边形的面积，求解复杂几何形状的面积等。

总之，柯西不等式在解析几何方面有着多种应用，可以用来解决三角形、多边形和复杂几何形状的各种问题，此外，它还可以用于微积分学中的积分求解。

柯西不等式是一个非常强大的数学定理，它在解析几何中十分重要，因此，许多学者也都将研究它的应用作为研究的重点。

汉斯费米尔的翻译观汉斯•弗米尔（Hans J. Vermeer)是德国海德尔博格大学翻译学院教授，长期从事语言和翻译研究，发表的译学作品除上述目的论奠基文献《普通翻译理论的框架》外，主要还包括《关于翻译理论》( Aufsaetze zur Translationstheorie，1983 )、《翻译行动中的目的与委托》（Skopos and commission in translational action, 1989)、《论目的与翻译委托》（Skopos und Translationsauftrag - Aufsaetze，1989/1992 )、《翻译目的理论：正论与反论》（A Skopos Theory of Translation ：Some Arguments For and Against)、《是不再问什么叫翻译学的时候了》（Starting to unask what translatology is about，1998a)和《翻译教学法》(Didactics of translation,1998b)等。

弗米尔在这些著述中所阐述的基本思想是：翻译并不是一个转码过程，而是人类一种具体形式的行动。

凡行动皆有目的，因此翻译亦由目的支配。

在任何一项翻译行动开始之前，必须首先弄清楚它的目的是什么，否则无法进行翻译。

这是一种英国学者波斯盖特曾经说到的前瞻式翻译观，它有别于传统译论的后瞻式翻译观，后瞻式翻译观往往立足于源文本，在翻译中倾向于采用规范性策略。

而在目的理论支配下的前瞻式翻译观，则把立足点放在目标读者和翻译任务委托者身上，特别是放在目标文本在他们所属文化中的功能上，译者必须根据目标文本在目标文化中所要承担的功能来决定在翻译中应当采用何种方法和策略。

也就是说,根据翻译目的论的基本观点，在目标文本产生过程中起决定作用的，既不是“忠实”、“对等”理论中所规定的原文，也不是此种原文在原文读者身上产生的效果或原作者赋予原文的功能，而是目标文本的功能，这个功能亦即目的，它是根据翻译发起者（即客户或委托人）的要求来决定的。

SKOPOSTHEORIE: A REVOLUTION CELEBRATEDby Sergio ViaggioI was asked to write this collaboration as I was retiring from the UN after thirty-one years, in the middle of moving a few pieces of furniture to my new tiny pied-à-terre in Vienna and with everything else - including my books - on its way to Buenos Aires.I cannot, therefore, hope to come up with anything resembling a scholarly piece, but I simply could not refrain from taking part in this homage - oh so well deserved! - to one of the most influential translation theorists of our time. I do beg, then, your indulgence, dear reader. I hope I will be able to make it worth your while anyhow.As a young student, I was thoroughly immersed in Russian translation theory (Fedorov, Barkhoudarov, Retzker, Schweizer, Komissarov, Etkind and the rest), which, pioneering as it was at the time (1970), had not quite hit the functionalist nail on its head. Yes, it was acknowledged that different types of texts required - or rather allowed for - different approaches; but this was an ugly necessity of reality which theory was not altogether capable of accounting for.My eye-opener was Nida (1964), with his demolishing question: a good translation… for whom? Here was a liberating view: The Lord had written his word for his people, but had his people been not the Jews back then, he would have written it differently. The translator's task became, thus writing it for a new readership - or, more often than not, illiterate audience, as were, indeed, its original addressees! - in a way that they will be able to understand it the way He meant it and be moved by it the way He meant his creatures to be moved. A mighty task, rewriting God's word for people who could not read, and, to boot, had never seen a camel, and not just "translating" it. An onerous responsibility, second guessing the Creator and an even more onerous one re-inventing His word. With all his new liberty, however, Nida's translator was simply an empowered scribe: His mission was to make God's word understood as intended. The myriad manipulations (the "handshake all around" substituting for the "kiss on the cheek" so derided by Meschonic) were due to the new flock's specific "hermeneutic package1." Nevertheless, two things were said - at least to me - for the first time: it is not enough for the translator to re-say, and it is not enough for the new interlocutor merely to have understood. What really matters is what happens as a consequence of the new interlocutor's having understood - the effect that comprehension has upon him. The Bible scholar and the theologian "listen" to the word of God with different ears and expectations to those of the rank and file members of the flock or, more importantly, those of the stray sheep whose salvation depends on their being touched by His word. The translator's task is, thus, to re-speak the Word (that Word, and not any other - all of it, and not simply selected utterances), and, by speaking it, to touch the new interlocutors as God himself is supposed to have touched his. One Word - as many valid translations as potential subjects of evangelisation insofar as the Word remains the same.But if the "handshake" and the "kiss" are both possible renditions of the same Word, what is the Word? What is it that a translator must leave intact? Nida never calls it by what I think is its name: not a representation, based on the immediate1 This is how that other great one, Mariano García Landa (1990, 1995 and 1998), aptly calls the baggage of linguistic and encyclopaedic knowledge, social and individual experience, mores and habits that the subjects bring to bear when understanding each other.comprehension of propositional content and referential meaning, but a metarepresentation. The kiss and the handshake are meant to produce different representations that, once processed and/or filtered through the subject's hermeneutic package and ability, would presumably produce the same metarepresentation. The Lord, after all, speaks through parables2.Indeed. With Nida, the relationship between formal - including semantic -features of texts ceases to be the yardstick of equivalence, and, therefore, of fidelity3. Again, Nida never makes it explicit, but the relationship is not between original and translated texts, but between intended and achieved metarepresentations - i.e. between mental "states4." From then on, looking for "textual" equivalence as an inherent attribute of original/translation pairs, an attribute, moreover, independent from the intention that has motivated the speaker to produce his text and the comprehension that his text and/or its translation eventually produce, becomes moot - which explains that so many theoreticians end throwing up their arms in the air and the concept down the drain. What Nida realises without actually realising is that "equivalence" however defined is not an attribute of a translated text but a consequence of translating. I do not say Y because the original says X, but rather, I say Y because this is what I think I better say in order for my interlocutor to understand - i.e. to metarepresent - something relevantly similar or analogous to what the original author intended his interlocutor to understand by X, or, alternatively (it all depends on my skopos, except that nobody had put it black on white), because this is what the original interlocutor ended up understanding by processing X5. There is, therefore, no necessary a priori formal (semantic or other) correspondence between X and Y, between the original "kiss" and my translation's "handshake".In 1975 I became an interpreter and soon thereafter became acquainted with the views of Danica Seleskovitch (1964, etc.), who started looking at what happens to an original in consecutive interpretation. Again, lots of things, none of them kosher from the standpoint of traditional concepts of equivalence. The thing to trans-late was sense, meaning meant, so that it would be understood by the new interlocutor. The author's word became as detached from its original manifestation as the Lord's. Whether deverbalised sense is actually possible is moot: the sheer fact that it can remain (more or less, and presumably) intact despite the fact that not a morpheme of the original may remain ought to be enough empirical proof that sense is not verbalisation-dependent. Again, no necessary correspondence between X and Y.2 I have called these two superimposed layers of meaning meant direct and indirect intended sense; the latter to be distinguished from deep sense, which is no meant, but nevertheless understood despite the very fact that it was not meant. In the case of a parable - as in every other case of figurative speech - indirect intended sense is understood via a metarepresentation based on the understanding of sense directly intended. Understanding direct sense in no way guarantees a grasp of indirect intended sense: some people simply don't get it: not everybody understands every single allegory (Viaggio 1999 an d, especially, 2004).3 A text's semantics is not part of its content, but that content's form. Semantic form and propositional content are not to be confused.4 Or, as Osimo (2001) would eventually put it, between mental - as opposed to written or spoken - texts of which written or oral texts are but intermediary Peircean interpretants.5 Which is normally the intention (skopos!) behind malicious quotation: whatever the original speaker meant to say, this is what he actually said. As I put it, objective sense(sense as would normally be interpreted by a typical interlocutor in a typical situation) is made to prevail over intended sense (i.e. sense as the speaker meant to convey). In normal intercourse it is intended sense that counts, in adversarial argument, objective sense carried the day: Fie the accused who misspeaks!At the end of the 80s, two splendid books came simultaneously into my hands that made me cast a completely new glance on equivalence: Zina Lvovskaya's The Theoretical Problems of Translation and Albrecht Neubert's Text and Translation. For the first time, I became aware of the overriding importance of the communicative situation and the consequent hurdle that displaced situationality posed for the translator. Lvovskaya explained that the basic problem lies in the distinction between meaning (linguistic, objective) and sense (extralinguistic, subjective). Sense is the end result of the motivation and purposes of the subject’s communicative activity in a specific situation. Two subjects will hardly react identically in the same situation, but neither the absence of bi-univocal correspondence between meaning and sense nor the latter’s subjective nature will stand in the way of communication if both interlocutors share the necessary extralinguistic knowledge. The best assurance of sense comprehension is a communicative situation shared by both interlocutors and their belonging to the same culture. However, since there are no two subjects who share the same knowledge, experience or values, sense as intended by a speaker will be more or less different to sense as comprehended by each of his interlocutors, which is a general feature of verbal communication. No message is understood, then, perfectly and in its entirety. A key door was opened before me: communication begins and ends in sense - i.e. in the minds of the interlocutors: what counts in the end is not what the translator -or, for that matter, the author- have said, but what the new interlocutor understands, and such comprehension is always situation-specific. The fundamental problem of translation lies, therefore, not so much in the mismatches between languages, but between the experience and knowledge that the new interlocutors activate when trying to understand in their new situation.Later on, in the early 90s, I chanced upon Spe rber and Wilson’s Relevance Theory (Sperber and Wilson 1986/1995) and, more specifically, its adoption by Gutt (1990 and 1991), who held that it is sufficient to explain translation, which thus no longer requires a theory of its own. According to Sperber and Wilson, utterances can be used as representations in two basically different ways: 1) an utterance may propositionally resemble a state of affairs in the world - in which case language is used descriptively, and 2) an utterance may propositionally resemble another utterance - in which case language is used interpretively. In the first instance, the utterance describes a (real or imaginary) state of affairs in the world, in the second - it reproduces, as it were, the propositional content of a previous utterance, or, if you wish, of a previous description of a (real or imaginary) state of affairs in the world. In other words, the “truth” - and, eventually, relevance - of a descriptive utterance is, basically, a function of the state of affairs it describes and the way it describes it, whilst that of an interpretive utterance lies in the way it propositionally resembles another utterance. This leads Gutt to define translation as second-degree interpretive use: A translator says, by means of an utterance in the target language, what the original speaker communicated by means of an utterance in the source language - the translated utterance is thus supposed interpretively to resemble the original one. It is assumed, therefore, that a translated utterance interpretivley resembles its original. Parallel texts - viz., the different language versions of an owner’s manual, in which language is used descriptively to “describe” the device and the correct way to use it - would not be translations (regardless of the fact that they may have been arrived at by translators basing their own descriptions on the description verbalised in the sourcelanguage)6. The definition was theoretically tight, but it posed a practical problem: According to it, most translators do not translate at all, and most translated texts are not really translations.All these scholars empowered translators and interpreters in a new, refreshing and fearsome way: Gone was the safe haven of the original as the last and ultimate alibi for all manner of infelicities. Semantic equivalence was demolished as the last refuge of translating scoundrels. From now on, translators and interpreters were responsible not only for having understood, but for what really counts in the end: making themselves understood. Still, both Nida's, Lvovskaya's, Neubert's and Gutt's translator and Seleskovitch's interpreter were beholden to the original's intent and meaning. If there was no longer a necessary correspondence between forms, there still had to be strict correspondence between meaning meant and meaning newly understood. The mediator's freedom and prowess were strictly bounded by it. The translator's addressees were, for all practical purposes, seen as passive subjects, whose sole purpose was to understand and be affected by meaning as meant - and then to manage on their own. Their interests, motivations and, generally speaking, stakes in understanding were of no concern to the mediator: His was not to help communication, but simply to make it possible.And then I came across skopostheorie. It took the 1996 Spanish translation for me to be able to read Reiss and Vermeer's classic, but by that time I was familiar enough with the concept to embrace it wholeheartedly. Regardless of the intention behind it, an original was now a sheer "information offer", a smorgasbord of meaning meant from which an interlocutor would necessarily eat as much or as little as he pleased. I do not mean the comparison to be facetious: What else is a newspaper? Who reads absolutely every word in it? Only intelligence agents - and not precisely out of a keen interest in the price of real estate coupled with an addiction to football and a morbid curiosity for gossip, gore and mayhem: Their skopos is anything but reading the news! Has anybody other than a few unquenchable bibliophiles read the Book of Numbers, for that matter? Skopos theorists are the first ones to realise - and boldly state - that an interlocutor's interest may not coincide with that of the speaker's, much less the interests of someone reading a translation or, more crucially, a third party commissioning it, and that a professional translator must take this into account. It is, in other words, not enough for a translation interpretively to resemble an original for it to be useful to its reader - its comprehension had to product relevant contextual effects7, the production of which is not necessarily linked to interpretive resemblance. Unlike previous theoreticians, Reiss and Vermeer do not ask themselves, then, how a translator can convey to different intended readers all of, and nothing but, the propositional (i.e. "informative") content of an original or, even, its larger intended meaning, but why understanding a translation or having it understood by others actually serves the commissioner's purpose - what is worth his while to process (if he is the intended interlocutor) or have someone else process (if he is the author or a third party) and towards what end. Although not brought in explicitly, Relevance Theory loomed large behind the approach, except that now emphasis was made decisively on relevance for the users (mind you, not necessarily the readers) of 6On the other hand, a text whose “truth” lies exclusively on its propositional resemblance to the original instructions - say, in order to prove their aptness or ineptness before a court of law - would, indeed, be a translation.7 Reiss and Vermeer, of course, do not put it in these relevance-theoretical terms, but this is exactly what I take them to mean.translations, as opposed to the producers of originals - with which the translator's orientation became forward- rather than backward-looking: Do not think only and so much what you can do for the author, but what you can do for your client; do not think only and so much what the original author meant to say, but what the new reader will end up understanding; do not think only and so much what was the author's purpose in saying, but the new interlocutor's in understanding; in short, think first of all why someone has bothered to request this text to be translated and is ready to pay you for it.Still, it behoved the commissioner to present the translator with his brief. The translator was, in principle, beholden to it as he has previously been beholden to original meaning. In its initial concept, in other words, Skopostheorie empowered not so much the translator as the commissioner: the author dethroned, it was he who picked up the sceptre - after all, he paid the piper. Yet, oftentimes, commissioners are not even aware that their translator needs such briefs in order to produce a translation as closely tailored to their needs. Also, blissfully unaware of the workings of communication, many commissioners produce the wrong briefing: they do not really know what is good for them - as is very often the case with lay users of any service. As with any other professional service provider, it is then up to the translator to advise his clients, or simply to second-guess them: A professional service provider knows when to bother his client with questions (some of which he will not be in a position to answer, anyhow), and when just go ahead and do what, in his professional judgement, is best for him. Here, the translator is finally fully empowered. In this new light, then, Skopostheorie empowers the professional translator as a true professional: someone who must know best - and act accordingly. His competence is thus expected to go well beyond understanding texts in the original and being able to reproduce their prepositional content, and imitate or manipulate their form in the target language. Indeed, a translator's linguistic competence must be such as to be able to produce all manner of re-writings, in different styles and registers, catering to different tastes and dispositions and abilities to understand, serving al manner of different purposes. And indeed, his bi-cultural competence must be such as to foresee and overcome, or at least palliate, cultural obstacles to comprehension. But this dual competence is itself at the service of an overriding metacompetence: that of determining and taking stock of the metacommunicative purposes8 of the different parties to communication and to choose from his performing arsenal the best tools and the best way to serve those of the commissioner who has hired him. His is still a service, but a comprehensively expert one. If the client's brief is inept, it behoves the truly professional translator to help him see the light. If the client insists, of course, the translator has the same choices as a physician whose patient refuses to heed his advice: "cheat", throw up his arms in despair and make the best of it, or send him packing.It sounds dauntingly mercenary and, up to a point, it is: All services are provided for money and the motto is always very close to "the client is always right" or "we are there to please". Now, that a lawyer - and a damn good one, to boot - put all his expertise at the service of defending a serial killer is a fact that does not scare many people or puts legal and judicial systems into question. As a matter of fact, it is a necessary feature of fairness and justice that even a serial killer should be able to benefit from the best defence possible. Why should the public be aghast, then, at the possibility of translators "manipulating" an original to further the ends of his author or, heaven forbid!, someone else? The misplaced joke that is omitted or changed in 8 For a full development, see Viaggio (2004).interpretation so as to make a speaker more effective (the speaker's skopos), the advertisement whose translation is not meant to convey the same meaning but to sell in the new medium (the commissioner's skopos), the sinister nazis turned marihuana smugglers in the first German dubbing of Hitler's Notorious so as not to ruffle the public's pragmatic feathers the wrong way (the commissioner's skopos as a vehicle for the larger skopos of the political powers-that-be, intent on glossing over an uncomfortable past), the adaptation of Gulliver's Travels or Robinson Crusoe (the translator's or the commissioner's skopos based on the intended addressees' interest and ability and their parents' and society's notion of what they may or may not, a nd should or should not read), the Contrat social emasculated of "those parts in which the author becomes delirious in matters religious" so as to get past Spanish censorship in pre-Revolutionary Argentina (the translators own political skpos), or the so-called Liberation Bible(again the translators' ideological and political skopos) are but haphazard examples of a practice as old as translation itself - except that nobody had dared speak its name! Something as evident as Columbus's or Brunelleschi's egg - that nobody had seen or said. This dealt the final kick to the dead horse of textual equivalence: a (good) translation was not required to be equivalent to its original, but coherent with it, and that coherence was not in and of itself but skopos-dependent: both the "kiss" and the "handshake" could make a translation coherent or incoherent with the Bible - it all depended on the kind of comprehension and effects sought. Did this mean that, in the end, anything goes?Peter Newmark (1982 and 1988) saw the dangers of Ivan Karamazov taking over: If there is no God author, how can translating humans tell right from wrong? Human free will is not to be trusted - let alone that of translators! Translation is about "truth", and there is no truth outside the word of the Author, even if His word is the user's manual for a toaster. Again, the simile is not facetious. Indeed, if anything the client wants, or if anything the translator thinks is good for him, goes, if every translator can claim that what others perceive as arbitrary manipulations, omissions, additions, infidelities, infelicities or outright mistakes are simply a matter of his skopos, then what is left for us to practice, teach and judge as translation? Left at that, Skopos risked becoming the new last refuge of translating scoundrels - including, now, those who cannot translate.Peter Newmark's ethical alarm was, then, well founded. Except that it was not a return to the Author that would save the day (authors can be pretty nasty specimens in their own right), but an ethical framework: a broad ring separating the dos from the don'ts - a framework to assess not only the accomplishment of specific skopoi, but those skopoi themselves. This Christiane Nord (1991) came up with: Loyalty. As any other professional service provider, a translator should do everything in his power to serve his client loyally. A translator is, in other words, first, loyal to his client, and next, and only in so far as required by his skopos, faithful to the original text.But, insisted Newmark, what ought a lawyer do if he knows his client to be guilty of a heinous crime? Do everything in his power to get him Scot free so that he can go on killing? What ethical compass is there to guide a translator across the Valley of Conflicting Loyalties? I submit that, as with every other profession worthy of its name and social status, it should be the profession itself. As an individual's ultimate loyalty as a social being ought to be to society, so does a professional (any professional) owe loyalty to his profession over and above any specific client or group of clients, a Hieronymic oath of sorts, as advocated by Chesterman (2001) - although I do not subscribe his concept of it. A profession - and this is, precisely, what distinguishes one from a sheer métier - to my mind, is the embodiment of society aspertains to a specific field of activity. Deontology is, after all, but the ethics of a profession - the ethical dos and don'ts of human beings qua physicians, lawyers - or translators. Which, incidentally, explains the main ethical and social difference between professional and non-professional practitioners. You may not like, or even deride, the Zukovski's phonetic acrobatics with Catullus, but you cannot question their right to try their hand at them: They did exactly what they set out to do - and brilliantly at that. Ditto Nabokov's stupendous semantic disembowelling of Pushkin's Eugene Oneguin. Or Sartre's bold modernising of Euripides. The non-professional translator decides the kind of service he wishes to render to whom. He is not and cannot be subject to professional retaliation (he can, of course, be burnt at the stake, as Tyndale and Diolet, except that not by fellow translators, but by the Grand Inquisitor, who can also burn astronomers like Giordano Bruno - and for that, he needs not know an iota about translation or astronomy). A translator who translates because he well damn pleases, in other words, is objectively free to translate as he well damn pleases: He is free to chose his own skopos, and all that translation scholars can do is assesses how well he has managed - or, more safely, simply describe it and write it down - and off - as historical fact. After all, as so many descriptivists have discovered, everything that goes… goes!The theoretical Pandora's box that this unexpected encounter of theory and practice made possible by Skopostheorie is momentous. If, rather than dodge the issue by defining translation as anything that is thought to be one (even if it is an original posing as a translation!) and thereby refusing to judge it on any relevant translatological grounds, we adopt Nida's, Lvovskaya's, Gutt's and Seleskovitch's approach and conceive of translation broadly as re-saying in a different language that which was said in the original one (regardless of how we further define "that which was said"), then Gutt is right: Skopostheorie, being undoubtedly a theory of what (good) translators actually do, paradoxically, is not a theory of translation. And if translation is not re-saying in the new language that which was said in the original one… then what on Earth is it? Vermeer and Reiss never actually say so, that I know, but they do show that (good) translators often - all too often for comfort - do not "translate," or, rather, do something more, something less and something other than "translating." Theirs, in other words, is not a theory of translation but of what people who produce "translations" do and of the texts thus produced, whatever one may call them9. Theirs is, at long last, a comprehensive theory of translation practice - the only kind of theory, I submit, that practising translations need.To sum up, then, if, within Gutt's definition of translation, Nida's dynamic equivalence and Seleskovitch's théorie du sens are empowering, by transcending a concept of translation as simply "re-saying" Skopostheorie is both empowering and emboldening: The (needless to say, good) professional translator - including, of course, the (good) professional interpreter - is the social agent with the knowledge, expertise and prowess to determine what counts as the best possible recreation or rendition (no longer a translation stricto sensu) of a given original in the specific social situation, for the specific metacommunicative purposes of a specific user or group of users, whether the author, the commissioner, or the intended or, even, unintended interlocutors. The translator (or interpreter) makes a series of socially transcendental professional decisions that go far beyond finding textual equivalents. To wit: a) The translator decides whether he accepts the originator's commission, b) 9 A daunting paradox that I think I have been able to solve in Viaggio (2004) - which I hope will finally find an English publisher.。

浅析费米尔目的论作者：卢迪苗天顺来源：《学园》2015年第12期【摘要】在20世纪70年代末，德国功能派翻译理论开始盛行，费米尔（Hans J. Vermeer）根据行为学理论提出翻译目的论，此理论将翻译带领到一个全新领域。

本文就该理论的形成背景、基本概念、基本原则及其突破与局限进行了简要介绍，简明扼要地勾勒出费米尔目的论的理论框架，以期为初涉翻译理论的学者提供了解费米尔目的论的便利。

【关键词】翻译理论费米尔目的论【中图分类号】H059 【文献标识码】A 【文章编号】1674-4810（2015）12-0051-02无论是中国还是国外的翻译理论都很丰富，在这些理论中，绝大部分学者仅从语言层面去探讨翻译，把翻译看成是文本之间的直接对应，研究仅限于语言本身，例如德国莱比锡学派认为：翻译是以句为单位，独立于特殊文本、文本读者及语境的纯语言语义行为。

但是在20世纪70年代末，德国功能派翻译理论开始盛行，费米尔（Hans J. Vermeer）根据行为学理论提出翻译目的论，此理论将翻译带领到一个全新领域，即从语言学角度探讨翻译转到更多地从功能和社会文化因素角度探讨翻译，跳脱出以往译学界一直在争论的直译和意译、动态对等和形式对等以及异化与归化问题，将翻译研究重点放到社会文化大背景下，寻求到另外一条出路。

一目的论的形成背景费米尔（Hans J. Vermeer）提出的翻译目的论奠定了德国功能派翻译理论的基础，它的形成和发展大致上经历了三个阶段。

按照时间的先后，大致可把目的论研究的发展分为萌芽期（1971～1977年）、发展期（1978～1987年）和成熟期（1988年～至今）三个阶段。

第一阶段，侧重于语言层面的早期目的论研究。

赖斯（Katharina Reiss）认为译文应该在形式、内容和交际功能上达到和原文对等，但在随后的翻译实践中，发现这种对等是不可能实现的，译者在翻译时“有时甚至不希望建立对等，因为有些译本要实现不同于源语文本的某一目的或某种功能”。

翻译目的论简介即就是skopostheory Skopos是希腊语，意为“目的”。

翻译目的论(skopostheorie)是将Skopos概念运用于翻译的理论，其核心概念是：翻译过程的最主要因素是整体翻译行为的目的。

Skopos这一术语通常用来指译文的目的。

除了Skopos，弗米尔还使用了相关的“目标(aim)”、“目的(purpose)”、“意图(intention)”和“功能(function)”等词。

为了避免概念混淆，诺德提议对意图和功能作基本的区分：“意图”是从发送者的角度定义的，而“功能”指文本功能，它是由接受者的期望、需求、已知知识和环境条件共同决定的。

在弗米尔的目的论框架中，决定翻译目的的最重要因素之一是受众——译文所意指的接受者，他们有自己的文化背景知识、对译文的期待以及交际需求。

每一种翻译都指向一定的受众，因此翻译是在“目的语情景中为某种目的及目标受众而生产的语篇”。

弗米尔认为原文只是为目标受众提供部分或全部信息的源泉。

可见原文在目的论中的地位明显低于其在对等论中的地位。

编辑本段翻译目的论的产生与发展20世纪70年代,功能派翻译理论兴起于德国。

其发展经过了以下几个阶段。

第一阶段: 凯瑟琳娜·莱斯首次把功能范畴引入翻译批评,将语言功能,语篇类型和翻译策略相联系,发展了以源文与译文功能关系为基础的翻译批评模式,从而提出了功能派理论思想的雏形。

莱斯认为理想的翻译应该是综合性交际翻译,即在概念性内容,语言形式和交际功能方面都与原文对等,但在实践中应该优先考虑的是译本的功能特征。

第二阶段: 汉斯·弗米尔(Vermeer)提出了目的论,将翻译研究从原文中心论的束缚中摆脱出来。

该理论认为翻译是以原文为基础的有目的和有结果的行为,这一行为必须经过协商来完成;翻译必须遵循一系列法则,其中目的法则居于首位。

也就是说,译文取决于翻译的目的。

此外,翻译还须遵循“语内连贯法则”和“语际连贯法则”。