Speaking to these freelance translators directly, it quickly became clear that whether Firewatch’s fan-locs were up to snuff or not, there was always going to be a potential losing party. Be it the professional translators looking for more work, fan translators looking for recognition, or the fans left wanting to experience Firewatch with a quality localization, Campo Santo’s announcement certainly left a bad taste in everyone’s mouths with the underlying message that the developers wanted to reach out to a wider audience without paying a cent.
It is worth noting that the developers have since responded to the backlash, saying that they simply wanted to make the fans’ jobs easier by giving them open and complete access to Firewatch’s text data, and that none of the fan-locs would ever be used for profit. While I have little doubt that Campo Santo’s intentions came from a good place (who wouldn’t want more people to be able to access their game?), it’s clear that the initial announcement warranted more thought. We often see fans clamoring for an English localization when a popular Japanese game gets announced, but not enough people seem particularly aware of the amount of work and effort that goes into translating text, and then localizing them in a way that will sound culturally appropriate for a given language.
When asked to briefly describe the process of translating a piece of work, Iwai brought attention to the obstacles faced when translating Japanese news and articles. “Conversational text is easier than technical explanations of game mechanics or when you encounter words that are made up entirely in the context of the game and no comparable localized version exists. Having source material can play a big role too; if you are providing subtitles for low quality gameplay that isn’t available in HD or a blurry photo for a magazine someone uploaded to Twitter, kanji compounds can become illegible and it can be a headache to figure out what’s actually written.”
Even if it’s just a simple news text or interview, Iwai says that a proper translation can take up to a few hours without disruptions. James and Koestl, both of whom have worked on translating video games, describe a similar, though much more complex, process.
When working on a professional localization for any form of media, a translator has to read the source work to get a feel for the “narrative direction” of the material. From there, most of the work comes from trying to convey the emotional and philosophical concepts of the game in a way that feels natural in English. If it’s a particularly sizeable project, translators have to work together and coordinate their translations to make sure that all thematic and linguistic decisions are consistent across the board and that everything comes together in a way that makes sense for the player.
And when it comes to working on fan patches for a game in a foreign language, Koestl notes that some patches do not even make it to release or simply fall below an acceptable standard of quality.
Speaking to various translators, they all had a common reason for getting into this line of work: interest, passion, and a desire to use their linguistic ability to give back to the gaming community. It certainly does seem like the interest for their job and what they do comes from a place not unlike fan passion. Volunteering to translate a full game in a different language just so a part of a community can experience it is a lot like charity work – you don’t get anything out of it, aside from appreciation and thanks from the players who use your patch. Coming back to the issue of Campo Santo’s announcement then, it’s easy to see why translators (both fans and professionals alike) did not take too well to the open invitation put out by the developers.
While there is no doubt that fans would have inevitably rallied together to create fan-locs for the game (Firewatch is a wonderful game, after all), Campo Santo’s announcement essentially read like an active encouragement for the fans to contribute their free time and hard work. On one hand, the fans are getting recognition on a technical basis – there is now official support from the developers themselves, and they won’t have to worry about any legal issues, as was the case with the messy Final Fantasy Type-0 fan patch. On the other hand, it is still problematic to see a developer actively enlist the help of fans to market their game to foreign speakers by organizing community translation projects on GitHub and Transifex.
As for professional translators looking to make a living in this line of work, it’s a bleak situation all around. When asked why he got into this field in the first place, Koestl admits that he does like the products that he works on, but making a full-time career out of translation and localization is difficult because of “the rates of pay in [the] industry.”
On some level, appreciation from a developer is the type of recognition that a fan would be thrilled to receive. But realistically speaking, the most appropriate form of recognition for this kind of work – the kind of work that would require a huge chunk of your time and concentration, especially for a text-heavy and talkative game like Firewatch – is a paycheck.
Iwai agrees with my sentiment.
“Of course, a fan translation comes more from the fan’s passion to share a game they love with more audiences and less about the profit. I’m sure when I was younger and more naive about the value of the work I was doing, the idea of being recognized by a company I was a fan of would have been extremely appealing. But now, I can’t honestly say there is a more appropriate way to award that amount of work than with monetary compensation.”
