Not where I came from. And that example is an easy one. Never mind terms like “bonnet” and “boot.”
The British meaning of “fanny” I only learned in recent years. As mentioned before, there is a Brit-owned bar named Fanny’s in the Soi Cowboy red-light district. All us Americans thought it meant one thing, the Brits knew it meant another. 
I’m American, and I just now got that the Sorcerer’s Stone was supposes to be the Philosopher’s Stone. And, yes, I knew about that as a kid–through some sort of osmosis, I guess.
(I have still never read the books. I avoided them when they were controversial here in the Bible Belt, and then just never got around to them.)
Reading this thread, I was curious to know what the British meaning of “fanny” was, and googling came upon this website with a list of a bunch of Britishisms; interesting reading.
G K Chesterton, in his book Chaucer, discusses the translation problem – and that’s Chaucer’s English to modern English, not English to American. It’s always stuck with me.
He says that it is impossible to translate poetry (especially) from one language to another, but I think the same could be said of top-level prose. The change of a word changes the texture and flow.
Applying his logic to translations from English to American, there is no need to change “colour” to “color” because anyone who can read can figure that out. There is a need to change “rubber” to “eraser” because of fear of misinterpretation. So, IMHO, translation needs to be handled carefully and delicately, not making changes unless the original would be misunderstood.
Worse (IMHO). As you said, the concept of the powers of the Philosopher’s Stone predates HP so changing the name to something that doesn’t have the same meaning, but retaining the powers… they may have well called the centaurs “Wombles” and then still described them as chimerical human-horse hybrids, leading the reader to look like this: :rolleyes:
FWIW, while I don’t think they really needed to change it, I think they were more concerned about it because it was the TITLE than it’s use in the text itself.
Well, in some cases. In others we use the American spelling, like “tire” instead of “tyre,” or “curb” instead of “kerb” - “airplane,” “aluminum,” and most words that end in “-ize.” And of course most American spellings are common and technically correct in Canada, at least according to the style guides.
Indeed, that’s why I never understood why they changed the Potter books for the U.S. market. Canadians speak English that is 95% American; it is, one would assume, the terminology that would throw people off, not the spelling. No Canadian kid calls a sweater a jumper. So why did our kids seem to understand the Harry Potter books just fine?
No they weren’t, but unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to dig out my copy of the book to illustrate better what I’m talking about, other than English people tending sentences with do and other words that Americans would end sooner.
It’s not ‘I might will’, it’s ‘I might well’, as in ‘I might well go to the cinema’, which is more likely to actually happen than if I just said ‘I might go to the cinema’.
And ‘I might’ and ‘I might do’ are pretty much interchangeable.
The US edition of “Trainspotting” comes with a glossary at the back that I found incredibly amusing. The idea of Americans having to look up Subbuteo tickled me.
Oh well done! I couldn’t imagine anyone ever saying “I might will” but once you have pointed out what was meant … well, it’s suddenly obvious. :smack:
The phrasing that always makes me re-read the sentence will have the structure “Now we have a hit children’s literary series, let’s meddle with it a little.” In American English, you’ll say “Now that . . .” etc.
The topic from the opposite side: I once read a British edition of a Nero Wolfe novel, and was startled momentarily when someone referred to the “kerb.” It didn’t work at all well with the New York City ambience.
As an American, reading British translations of French novels can be jarring as well. I was reading Collette’s The Vagabond, and was again taken out of the moment when some ruffians in the audience started talking trash to the dancing girls in British slang.
I was wondering why people were treating Winston Churchill like that.
I recall the book I proofread where a British author had an American Southerner saying something along the lines of “Don’t y’all worry youh pretty li’l ol’ heads, I can fix that with some aluminium foil.”
Neal Gaiman once wrote a Sandman story that took place in a redneck bar. He got the slang and accents just perfect, until someone went up to the counter and asked for a packet of cigarettes. (In the US, they always say “pack.” Always.)
Alex Garland blew it in The Beach when he had two Americans make refernce to “candy floss” instead of “cotton candy.”
Think the kids noticed or cared?
I, noticed and cared. I’ve known what the Philosopher’s stone was since I was the age of her target audience. And I learned what it was from a work of fiction like hers. The folks at Scholastic deprived their audience of a teachable moment.
First, that wasn’t my point–I don’t care that you noticed or cared.
Secondly, if you’re reading Harry Potter for the educational value, you’re doing it wrong.
Barchetta, are you saying that dumbing-down is fine if it’s for children?