I have spent 20 years preparing for the translation of Heidegger’s Being and Time. In these 20 years, I spent 10 years in Germany writing the master and doctoral thesis on Heidegger in order to understand Heidegger’s thoughts properly. Later on I spent other 10 years teaching Heidegger’s philosophy at university while translating Being and Time into Korean. At that time, there were already 4 different translations of Being and Time in Korean. But because these translations were based on Japanese translations, many concepts and terms were ungraspable by ordinary Korean people. Impressed with Heidegger’s use of the ordinary words as important philosophical concepts, I also did my best to translate Being and Time using ordinary Korean words.

The article tells the detailed story of the first translation of Sein und Zeit in English, i.e. the way a Scottish pastor and an American scholar joined their efforts to find a suitable path of breaking the “myth of untranslatability” which surrounded at the time Sein und Zeit. The story also covers their method of translation, the obstacles they encountered, while covering in depth the different types of “linguistic oddities” of the Heideggerian idiom which often puzzles the translators: new or compound words, etymologies, grouping words in “constellations” which stem from the same root.

In this contribution the author sketches his main motives for translating Sein und Zeit into Dutch. First, the author argues that Heidegger’s text – and its translation – can clarify its notions better than most of Heidegger’s interprets can do. Then, the author shows that Heidegger’s method, being hermeneutics, has intrinsically to do with translation. Referring to the genesis of his translation, the author points at some general peculiarities of Heidegger’s use of language, insisting upon their meaning for the translation of Heidegger’s work into Dutch.

These pages belong to the Swedish translator of Sein und Zeit, Richard Matz, who unfortunately died september 1992. The text is taken from the correspondence between Richard Matz and the Portuguese translator of Sein und Zeit, Marcia Sá Cavalcante Schuback, who translated it from Swedish and explained in a final note the context in which they met and discussed about Heidegger translations, invoking also the figure and personality of Richard Matz.

This article discusses what could be called “the adventure of translating” Sein und Zeit in Spanish. It argues that every translation is an adventure, and particularly the translation of a philosophical text. A translation does not literally reproduce into another language what an author or philosopher affirms. The question is instead to express it in the most accurate form with the resources of the translator’s language, in such a way that the text may sound as if it was written in the language to which it is to be translated. This article refers to the very long route that the author had to go over in order to make Sein und Zeit “speak” a good and clear Spanish.

Finnish is a small language area and classical philosophical translations have been largely missing. Translating Sein und Zeit brings forth some specific difficulties. Finnish philosophical tradition is mostly analytical and we don’t have established phenomenological concepts. For example, the word “Dasein” is translated in several different ways. Following Heidegger’s own method and philosophy of language a translator has to find his own path situated in the nearness of Being and language. Therefore a translation is always an act of rewriting. Heidegger’s own roots in philosophical traditions of Neo-Kantianism, Aristotle and primal Christian thought must be taken into account as well.

The Finnish Heidegger translations point to a problem created by the history of the language: words having to do with technology, metaphysics and so on are mostly direct loans from Indo-European languages with little connection to the rest of the vocabulary. This presents the translators with a dilemma: if one wants to retain Heidegger’s poetic and etymologising style, the Finnish tends to miss the essential contact to Greek-German-Western origins.

The Turkish translation of Sein und Zeit has not yet been completed. Therefore it is not the subject of this paper whether or not Heidegger’s opus magnum can possibly be übersetzt, übertragen, or deutend dargestellt in an entirely different language such as Turkish. What is going to be discussed, instead, are the ways in which Heidegger can be presented by using the authentic capabilities of Turkish; the different alternatives of such a presentation; the notions and contexts that those alternatives would materialize in the mind of a person who speaks and thinks in Turkish; and, finally, the extent to which those materialized concepts match the objectives that Heidegger had in mind. It is interesting, for that reason, that, for example, varlik does not always mean varlik in Turkish, while Sein always does mean Sein in German.

In this contribution, I sketch the historical context in which the first Korean translation of Sein und Zeit started and the difficulties faced during the process of translation. The translation took about ten years. It is quite difficult to understand Heidegger’s terms and more difficult to translate them into Korean because they have multiple meanings and nuances. So I translated those terms as literally as I could, but sometimes I had to take liberties. When needed, I explained the literal meaning and the usage of the terms in the footnotes.

In this article, the author narrates the story of the second English translation of Being and time. In the first part, the author describes both the personal history and the general cultural situation which led to the necessity of a new translation of Sein und Zeit. In the second part of the essay, the author discusses some of the Heideggerian terms as Da-sein, Wiederholung, Verfallen, Geworfenheit, Befindlichkeit, focusing on the meaning and the central role of temporality in the project of existential analytic.

In this article, the author unveils the play between visibility and invisibility as it is captured in a phenomenology of the gift. The first part of the essay explores the tension between the fact of being given and the forgetting of its characters as a gift: its donor and the circumstances of it being given. In the process of becoming autonomous, free of its provenance, the gift loses its character of being given and becomes no more than a simple thing in someone’s possession. Subsequently, the essay draws on the figure of Christ as gift of God, illustrating this interpretation with particular reference to several illuminating passages from the Gospel of John. The central image is the phenomenon of gift as given in the bread and wine of the Eucharist. Finally, this image is used to define the task of a hermeneutical approach to the gift.

“Sacramenta propter homines.” This classic statement situates sacraments within a human existential in which meaning and reality consort. Sacramental reality is meaningful reality. Sacraments signify, but they signify in an ecclesial or intersubjective context. Sacraments phenomenalise themselves ecclesially. Apposing Marion and Derrida on the nature of sign and signification gives the possibility of considering sacramental reality on the basis of ecclesial exteriority.

For Husserl excess is a part of any phenomenon. For Heidegger the horizon of the phenomenon is also excessive. Levinas and Marion ask us to think about what exceeds the horizon. I focus on Marion’s fifth kind of saturated (transcendent) phenomenon, revelation. How are we to understand it? Marion says he argues only for the possibility of revelation, but only Jesus could be the revelation for which he argues. The excess of the divine cannot remain merely a metaphysical beyond. It must reveal itself in the world as a possible phenomenon, as Flesh, for there is no excess without flesh, and no flesh without being. Excess is either enfleshed or thingly excess. For the Christian this being-together of flesh and word in God means the same being-together in us: Christian life is fully incarnate life, life as enspirited flesh rather than as dead body. Thus the being-together of flesh and word is “in the accusative”. Christian life is, prior to action, a life of submission. That, however, explicitly puts Christian belief and practice at odds with any unrecuperated, merely metaphysical metaphysics which undercuts not only the Christian dogma of Christ’s incarnation and incarnate resurrection, but also the Christian message that the divine life is found only in the life that bends its knee and seeks to bring about justice: dikaiosunae.

The following essay tackles Søren Kierkegaard’s view of temporality within a phenomenological vista. It proceeds by differentiating between an aesthetic, an ethical, and a religious relationality to time in step with Kierkegaard’s Christology and especially, with his notion of “sacred history,” largely unexplored in the scholarship. My fundamental hermeneutic assumption is that Kierkegaard’s stress on Christ’s historicity and the subsequent human task of imitation are properly understood only in a soteriological framework. That is why temporality should be conceived against the backdrop of the singular self’s pursuit of redemption. My thesis will be that, since one’s encounter with the God-man is essentially historical, whilst engaging human temporality in its wholeness (i.e., selfhood’s past, present, and future), Kierkegaard’s soteriology is highly relevant for a phenomenology of Christianity, which still awaits its philosophical unfolding.

In this article I contend that although Michel Henry reproaches psychoanalysis to let the symbolic law rule over the unconscious, his concept of auto-affection as a direct experience of Life comes close to psychoanalyst Julia Kristeva’s idea of eros, in that they both turn away from representational logic in their search for “true”, unmediated forms of subjectivity. In her development of the concept of eros or narcissism, Kristeva is strongly inspired by the Plotinus. In his striving for unification with the One, man idealizes and identifies with the One. Kristeva replaces this idealizing love inside man’s psyche and thus defines the narcissistic structure as an identification with something that is not yet the subject itself. This process takes place in a non-representational domain, in what can be called the “consciousness of the flesh”. However, although the existence of a “bodily” consciousness is the condition of possibility for intersubjective love, not everything is simply absorbed by this consciousness of the flesh: both Kristeva and Plotinus draw upon a kind of dualism between representational and non-representational, maybe not in the experience, but in their explanation of love.