In the family of literary activities, translation used to be seen as a stepchild,

doomed to be looked down on as being derivative rather than original. From a

consciousness of belonging 'below' — in the words of Donald Frame, himself a

distinguished translator of Montaigne's complete works — translators have

written of the lack of recognition of the nature and demands of their work, and

of the thanklessness of doing hard work for which the best praise is 'transparent'

— not the ideal colour for the spur of fame.



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