Recently I uploaded a Judging post for one of the most beautiful (dare I say, maybe even the most beautiful?) books I own – my hardcover, full color, illustrated, German edition of The 13 ½ Lives of Captain Bluebear. That’s the catch though – it’s printed in the original language, and since I can’t read German, I can never technically read this copy, and must settle for admiring all the brilliant artwork, typography and colors (okay, that’s not even really settling, but you know what I mean.) Fortunately, I do own a copy that has been translated into English, which I’ve read and enjoyed. I’m grateful that this book has been translated, but this all had me thinking, what am I missing? What is being lost in translation?