“Language is the house of being.”
-Martin Heidegger.
“Oh my God, I want to be one of them” a poet expressed when Wendy Lesser, the book editor, explained the premise of her newest release: to have numerous writers from all over the world reflect on their personal experiences with bilingualism, and how their mother tongue affected their learning of the English language and the way they express their writings through it.
The American writer Wendy Lesser supervised the editing process of The Genius of Language, and she also wrote an additional introduction to it. A fascinating introduction that made me quote Shakespeare in his saying “I can call the spirits from the vasty deep.” And I soon realized that the book in my hands promises plenty of personal human experiences; it was a book that closely resembled a linguistic biography of each of its writers, and from that point forward I decided that I would not rush while reading, in fact, reading it was like a reward to myself at the end of each long day. And thus, it became my nightly companion for two weeks that were filled with anticipation and deep reflection. I also give credit to the skilled translator Mr. Hamad AlShammari whom I hold responsible for a big sum of the intrigue I felt as I read the book, and so, I thank him for the gift that he gave to us, and to his native language: The Arabic Language.
In addition to the editor’s friend, Alice Van Straalen, the biggest inspiration to Lesser as she edited the book was Polish-British novelist, Joseph Conrad. Lesser found inspiration for her book’s title from one of Conrad’s texts in which he describes the genius of the English language; it was something she adopted, and took into her exciting world by broadening the concept of ‘genius’ by not limiting it to the genius of a second acquired language, but also including the genius of the mother tongue that continues to flow within us in the shadows, even when we separate from it. It is that exact mutual genius that the writer Josef Skvorecky refers to in one of the chapters, as he expressed his amazement at how his acquisition of a second language resulted in a deeper understanding of his native tongue. He went on to say, “I have discovered a characteristic in my mother tongue that I wasn’t aware of, and it is that I used to speak mechanically and subconsciously.”
As the editor clarified, the basis of legitimacy in this book can be summarized with how we, as readers, can draw a lot of inspiration from bilingual novelists, playwrights, critics, and journalists in things surrounding the nature of bilingualism, language acquisition, and the differences between languages, all of which are things that are hard to find in specialized research done by linguists. This is especially true when it comes to ideas about the relationship between ego and language, or the social and cultural connotations that we can derive from linguistic features in vocabulary, linguistic structure, and methods of expression.
In addition to the introduction, the book comprises fifteen chapters, the number of writers that collaborated in its creation. Fifteen writers coming from various parts of the world, or better put in other words, from various languages, such as Hindi, Chinese, and Korean, with a stronger focus on the European languages.
One of the most wonderful chapters of the book, due to its poetic expressions, metaphors, and imagery, is the chapter titled “Limpid, Blue, Poppy”, as well as “Footnotes to a Double Life” which I would estimate to be one of the most difficult chapters to translate, thanks to the strange duality between its writing of the main ideas, and the annotations; almost as if the writer wanted to write two parallel texts as opposed to one, and perhaps the aim behind the strange duality was to reflect on the confusing linguistic duality of bilingualism. Obviously, my admiration for the two chapters remains a personal preference, and other readers may disagree.
In “Yes and No” which is the chapter by the writer Amy Tan, the reader is faced with an eloquent lesson about the foolishness of arrogant and reckless comparisons that are drawn to monitor the disparity between languages and forms of expression only for them to confirm the previously held cultural prejudices and social disparities between nations. Another writer that followed the same point, but with a more forceful and bitter approach was the African writer Ngugi wa Thiong’o in his emotionally moving chapter, “Recovering the Original”, in which he revealed a lot about linguistic colonialism and language wars.
The best decision Wendy Lesser made while editing this book was placing Leonard Michael’s chapter after the rest of the chapters at the end of the book, as it is – in my opinion – one of the heaviest chapters to read due to his self-alienating and self-pitying writing, as well as the arrogant narcissism and discrimination against non-Jewish nations (gentiles). Just in this article alone, he has used the words (Jews, Judaism) dozens of times, and yet this chapter still had inspirational ideologies and sayings. I say that knowing the place that this satirical writer held in modern contemporary American literature, which is what pushed Lesser to dedicate this book to his memory, as he passed before the release of the book.
In the reader’s enjoyable journey through this book, there may be moments in which you find yourself pausing at the colorful descriptions of experiences of linguistic crossings with all of the differences, comparisons, and emotional memories. You will also note how the majority of the writers go hand in hand in their fragmented identities as a result of their linguistic duality, and that their bilingualism often makes them feel like their lives are composed of two realities, as opposed to just one. As if language, with all of its cultural, social, and ideological baggage, is what creates the human identity, or, as the author M.J. Fitzgerald expressed, “Home is words.”
Along the same lines, in the first chapter of the book, the Indian American writer Bharati Mukherjee expressed “I think a shared language is stronger than divisive religions”, and the analytical philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein preceded the two writers when he said, “The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.”
Lastly, I want to acknowledge the richness of the footnotes that were included by the translator of the book, that pamper the readers with their extent of explaining each passing term, and interpreting the information mentioned, as well as explaining the historical, geographical, social, and artistic or literary references, not to mention some of the contextual hints and wordplays. Following that thorough translation, it would be more appropriate in a later reprint of the book for the translator to shed light on Nicholas Papandreou’s metaphorical reference when he mentioned “the priests who were burned alive by the Turks” (p. 135) by including a footnote that clarifies the history behind the saying, and how close or far it is from reality. A newer print would also give an opportunity to correct some of the linguistic and printing errors that are scattered across the book.
I conclude this article inspired by Louis Begley’s advice to avoid definitive conclusions. To that, I say: this book is far too rich to be summarized in an article, and that reading brings many spiritual joys that writing simply cannot express, and there are times when the only thing you can do is to calmly point towards the path you wish for others to follow.
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