What kinds of things can be expressed in Czech that are difficult or impossible to express in German?
As with other languages, this probably includes curses and swear words, as well as terms of endearment. Then there are words like “rohlík,” which is a typical Czech pastry, similar to the “Brezn” in Bavarian. Except it’s not something round or curved, but a long roll made from the finest refined flour. A “rohlík” is something completely ordinary in Czech; it appears in almost every text. Sometimes I take the liberty of leaving it as is—after all, we’ve gotten used to the French croissant too.
Does a character’s personality change when you translate them from Czech into German?
I really hope that doesn’t happen! It’s my job to make sure it doesn’t.
When you translate, do you think more in images, in meaning, or in words?
Very often in images—that’s what distinguishes a literary text from a factual one.
What is particularly difficult to translate from Czech humor into German?
Wordplay, diminutives.
Which Czech jokes don’t work at all in German?
Unfortunately—or thank goodness!—the ones that are latently racist and misogynistic.
What do you love about Czech that you miss in German?
Diminutives, regionalisms, such as those from my birthplace in South Moravia.
How has translating changed your own German?
You become more nuanced, express yourself more elegantly.
What was the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make while translating?
It comes up time and again: To what extent am I willing to perpetuate racism, especially in the form of anti-Gypsyism?
What are your favorite words in German and Czech?
“Sehnsucht” and “rampouch” (icicle).
What are you currently working on, and what will be your next project? “Prag Noir,” a highly entertaining collection of noir crime short stories by renowned Czech female authors. And “Pacanka” by Klára Elšíková, a radical coming-of-age story.
The interview was conducted by Nathalie Weber.


