On writing in a foreign language

[Clarissa]

I don't know if anyone else is fascinated by authors writing in a language that is not their mother tongue.
It struck me that there are many who write in English or in French but I cannot think of any 'foreigner' writing in German. I wonder why this is. If Mirabell should read this, I am sure he can name one or two. That is, if there are any.

Writing both in French and English: Nancy Huston.
Now writing in French: Milan Kundera - but his French books are not as good as his Czech ( I read these in the French translation so I don't know who should get the credit - Kundera or his translator.)
Andreï Makine: French

The obvious Joseph Conrad whose third language was English
and the obvious Vladimir Nabokov
Joseph Brody
Jerzy Kosinski (spelling?)

Just a few off the top of my head. There are many others, I'm sure.

There are also those who write in their own language but live in a foreign country and are able to verify that a translation is as true to the original as a translation can be. Here W.G.Sebald comes to mind (even if I did read him in German) and Kundera for the translations into French before he actually wrote in French.

Just a thought...

[Liam]

The Phenomenon of Authors Whose First Language Isn’t French Writing In French

Several foreign writers have published books in French this past autumn. This phenomenon is not new. A number of authors, and not small number at all, have abandoned their mother tongues. They explain themselves.

They are foreigners but they have decided to write in French. One recalls many celebrities such as Milan Kundera who translated his own novels, Samuel Beckett, who confessed that he had been liberated by James Joyce’s imprints in choosing a foreign language for himself, or even Casanova, whose Memoirs in ten volumes were written in the language of Molière, at the time considered the most international tongue of all. Why did they decide one day to abandon their mother tongues and make French their language of writing? Most certainly, there are as many responses to this query as personalities and backgrounds of the individuals concerned, but it is clear that even as the French language lost its influence in the world, it has retained its aura for the writers. The latest Goncourt prizewinner, the Afghan Atiq Rahimi, is the latest illustration of this. When Le Figaro questioned him last November on the subject, Rahimi, whose previous three novels were written in Persian, replied simply, “To begin with, I didn’t even ask myself the question; I didn’t think about it. When I returned to my country in 2002, I rediscovered my culture… and the desire to write in French. Singué Sabour, The Stone of Patience, flowed directly in French. In fact, it was difficult for me – I don’t know why – to address these important subjects, these taboos, in my mother tongue. French gave me the possibility to express myself with some freedom.”

… For many writers, the choice is even seen as a kind of rebirth. “When I wrote in Spanish, the influence of Lorca was very strong,” recalled Eduardo Manet. “French allowed me to be more sober.” The Cuban-born exiled writer established himself in France at the end of the 1960s. He wrote a score of stories and a baker’s dozen novels, all in French. He remembered nostalgically his Haitian nurse rocking him to sleep with Creole lullabies, and said that he was still delighted by the finesse of the French poets whose works he subsequently devoured. “When I decided to change my language, I was already fluent in English, I could have easily adopted it. I adored American music and cinema, but I hated the imperialism (of the United States). French appeared to me to be the language of writing. The foreigners who were living in Paris, such as Beckett, Arrabal or Ionesco, had all chosen it. For us Latin Americans it was an obvious choice, and that’s all there is to say.”

In the 1960s, during a period when English was all-powerful, the adoption of French appeared as a paradoxical choice, dictated by shifting necessities. Thus, Jonathan Littell caused widespread astonishment when his novel, Les Bienveillantes appeared in French, and not in English. The American author, resident in Barcelona, generated considerable national pride, and was venerated further when he won the Prix Goncourt in 2006. Today, translations of his book are closely monitored by a very punctilious Littell – he sent a letter of precise recommendations to the translators – and there was much surprise that he himself did not want to translate his novel from French to English.

One doesn’t choose a language other than one’s own without being particularly picky. The example of Milan Kundera, who wrote in French to signal his rift with his country of origin, is particularly instructive. In 2003, he spoke (in another interview with Le Figaro) of the books he had previously written in Czech. “It is in France that my publishing house publishes my books first, in their authorised versions. I say ‘authorised versions’ because I performed the translation into French of all my old novels, sentence by sentence, word by word. Since then, I have considered the French text as my own, and I allow the translation of my books from the Czech as well as from the French, with a slight preference for the latter solution”

The Slovene author Brina Svit says she writes a book twice: firstly in French, and then in Slovenian. “Objectively speaking, I had no reason to change the language: I had a very good translator and an excellent editor,” she explains. “Then came a sense of emancipation, of writing against oneself, of owing nothing to anyone. French gave me a freedom, a frankness, a sensation of being a young author : I am all the time in the process of learning, of asserting something.”

And if Eduardo Manet plans today to take up pen in Spanish for a book of tribute to his mother, it is not a given at all that everybody else wants to return to their original languages. That applies to the Dane Pia Petersen who has just published her fifth novel, Iouri, in French with Actes Sud. She says it is the specificity of the French language that has attracted her. “I have never given in to the spirit of the North. I love debating, I like to discuss. I felt immediately at ease with French. Even before I could speak it, I had this idea of a language with which one could develop one’s ideas. One could always fold a word into one meaning or another. “

“French gave me a clarity and precision quite opposite to the Japanese mentality, ” said Aki Shimazaki, who has been writing in French since fifteen years ago, and whose next book, Zakuro, appears in February, published by Actes Sud. For her, the trigger was the book by the Hungarian author Agota Kristof, who wrote Le Grand Cahier in French. “I was fascinated by his simple style and profound story. At the time, I already had ideas for my novel Tsubaki. So I decided to write it directly in French. It took me three years to complete.”

Rarely does one adopt French entirely by chance. Most of those who chose it have a link with France and its culture. Upon retiring, the American scholar David I. Grossvogel set himself a double challenge: to write his first novel on Proust and do so in French. (Le Journal de Charles Swann, published by Buchet-Chastel.) This professor of literature who introduced Jacques Derrida and other French thinkers to the United States knew that he was walking on a minefield. “My attachment to the French language is like the love of those who do not fully possess that which they like,” he says. “Of course, I also wrote this book in French for a practical reason. Find me an American editor who can speak knowledgeably of Proust! But it wasn’t easy in France either. One doesn’t walk in Proust footsteps with impunity. It is a small point of pride for me. Imagine! A Yank writing in French who is going to be published by a French publishing house…”

Think about it: in the past few years, the Goncourt Academy has crowned the likes of Tahar Ben Jelloun, Amin Maalouf, Andrei Makine, Jonathan Littell, and last November, Atiq Rahimi! The French writers have to stand and be counted if they don’t want to be aced in their own language by the competition coming from abroad.

[saliotthomas]

Very good thread Clarissa and welcome

Indeed,my favorite writers in French.

Amin Maalouf write wonderfully,with the slight touch of the Persian tale.
Musical and beautifull prose.

I'm not starting on Makine you really must have enough

[Eric]

As Liam suggests, writing in a foreign language is by no means confined to French-English.

Apart from those mentioned, there was also the Russian-born French author Nathalie Sarraute (1900-1999). Whether her Russian would have been strong enough to write in, as she left Russia early in life, is a good question. A similar case is Eugène Ionescu (1909-1994), who even during his childhood was spending a lot of time in France, though he was born in Romania. Paul Celan (1920-1970) wrote a few poems in Romanian, but stuck to German for his most famous poems. Edith Södergran (1892-1923) was a Finland-Swede, with Swedish as her mother tongue. She was educated in Saint Petersburg in German, wrote early poems in that language, and a few in Russian. But she ended up as a great Swedish-language poet. The Fleming Jean Ray (1887-1964; born Raymond de Kremer), wrote fantasy tales and comic strips in both French and Dutch. Some Afrikaans authors like André Brink (born 1935), Breyten Breytenbach (born 1939) and Antjie Krog (born 1952) have written in English as well, especially during apartheid. And as already mentioned Samuel Beckett (1906-1989) wrote in both English and French.

This question fascinates me partly on account of the opposite phenomenon: those who continued to write in their "potty little language" despite the enormous pressure to conform and write in a much larger, more powerful one. I am thinking specifically of the many Baltic writers who did not end up as Russian authors. A few people in Soviet times ended up writing in Russian, their second language, such as Tshingiz Aitmatov (Kyrghyz) and Yuri Rytkheu (Chukchi), but there is no well-respected Estonian, Latvian or Lithuanian writer that went over to Russian except for the Lithuanian Jurgis Baltrušaitis.

One Kenyan author, Ngugi wa Thiongo, despite working as an academic in the USA, decided to start writing novels in his native Gikuyu.

The fact that several key Arabic authors from Lebanon and the French-colonised parts of North Africa wrote in the colonial language is also interesting.

And the fact that India, a country of about one billion population, only has about 200,000 native-speakers of English. Yet authors writing in English are the most visible ones in the English speaking world. I wonder how many of these have English as their first language or mother-tongue.

[Clarissa]

Those who wrote in the language of their adopted country only to be translated or translate themselves back into their mother tongue

Examples: Klaus Mann The Turning Point (Der Wendepunkt) I read this in German, only realised later that it was a translation from the English.
Oscar Maria Graf Das Leben meiner Mutter originally written in English in the US in 1940 (I don't know if it was published at the tme ) and then in German (read it in German)

Incidentally, both well worth your time.

I suppose this question of a language being one's home depends on the individual writer and, possibly, his adaptability. A Stefan Zweig, a Sandor Marai, probably many others, unable to write in any other language - both in exile. Both suicides.

[miercuri]

Andrei Codrescu published very little in Romanian before leaving the country during the communist regime. He's written in English ever since.

[Bjorn]

Two novelists who, as far as I can tell, weren't established as novelists before they switched languages:

Aleksandar Hemon moved from Bosnia to the US in 1992, supposedly barely knowing the language, and published his first story in English in 1995.

Wladimir Kaminer moved from Russia to Germany in 1990. Debuted in German in 2000.

[Omo]

Adelbert von Chamisso comes to mind, who was French but decided to write in German. After him the Chamisso-prize is named which honors authors writing in German, whose mother tongue is not German.

Edit: Now that I see this thread again, has anyone read Terezia Mora's Der einzige Mann auf dem Kontinent? She received the Chamisso prize (along with others) this year.

[Loki]

Beckett wrote some of his plays in French and then he translated into English himself.
It would be interesting to compare the two versions. I seem to remember that he wrote in French as the form would have been simplier: correct me if I'm wrong.

Then there are authors whose first language is not very well known and who decide to write directly in English to reach a wider audience; I can't think of any to be honest.

If you were a writer (maybe some of you are) why would you choose to write in a different language from your native one?

[Raphael Lambach]

Nabokov wrote in English in spite of he was russian. Lolita was all witten in English. Oscar Wilde also wrote in French his play Salome. This play was translated to English for his lover, Lord Alfred Douglas (who also wrote some poems and texts in French, if I'm not wrong).

[Stewart]

Originally Posted by Clarissa

I cannot think of any 'foreigner' writing in German.

You'll find a number of names amongst the Adelbert von Chamisso Prize's winners, it being a prize for foreigners writing in German.

I've went to readings by Saša Stanišic (Bosnian) Tawada Yōko (Japanese), and Terezia Mora (Hungarian) at the Goethe Institut in recent times. Plus the Bulgarian writer Ilija Trojanow writes in German.

[Clarissa]

Thanks for that Stewart. I had no idea that there were any 'foreigners' writing in German. Lots in French or English. Strictly speaking, I suppose Herta Müller can be considered a foreigner, born in Romania etc. And the bilingual upbringing did have an effect on her writing. Saw a documentary on German TV in which her divorced husband spoke highly of her. He also pointed out that some of her sentences and descriptions were actually translations from the Romanian and gave examples. Probably subconscious but found that fact most interesting

[Liam]

Originally Posted by Stewart

You'll find a number of names amongst the Adelbert von Chamisso Prize's winners, it being a prize for foreigners writing in German.

Yes, but it seems they're also perceiving the Swiss as "foreigners," never mind that half-the-country speaks German as its mother tongue. The other names are surprising, however. Why settle for German when English is obviously a much more useful language, in terms of international clout? I dunno--

And "literary" French seems to be breathing its last, as well, --



No offence,
as always
L.

[Amoxcalli]

Originally Posted by Loki

If you were a writer (maybe some of you are) why would you choose to write in a different language from your native one?

Although I'm only a hobbyist, I prefer writing in English over writing in Dutch (which is my native language) for two reasons. Firstly, anything written in English has a much wider potential audience than anything written in Dutch. Not just because there's many more native speakers of the English language, but also because every educated Dutch person speaks English at least to decent level.

Secondly, I find that the language lends itself much better to puns, allusions, allegories and other "between the lines" writing. Dutch is just less subtle, I find.

I probably wouldn't have written anything in English if I hadn't been fluent in it though. I can't imagine someone writing in a language he/she barely masters either.

[peter_d]

Originally Posted by Amoxcalli

Secondly, I find that the language lends itself much better to puns, allusions, allegories and other "between the lines" writing. Dutch is just less subtle, I find.

I strongly disagree with this. I don't believe that any actively used language is of higher 'quality' than other languages.

[Loki]

It's not the same thing, actually. He wasn't saying (I think) that English is of higher quality than other languages, but just that English has certain qualities that other languages may not have. For example in English you can potentially make a verb from every noun, even proper nouns: you can say for instance "don't Perry me!" (don't call me Perry); in Italian you can't do this, because you need a specific suffix to form a verb (are, ere, ire). Hope you'll get my point!

[Amoxcalli]

Originally Posted by Loki

It's not the same thing, actually. He wasn't saying (I think) that English is of higher quality than other languages, but just that English has certain qualities that other languages may not have. For example in English you can potentially make a verb from every noun, even proper nouns: you can say for instance "don't Perry me!" (don't call me Perry); in Italian you can't do this, because you need a specific suffix to form a verb (are, ere, ire). Hope you'll get my point!

Yes, that's more or less what I meant.

I don't think English is of higher quality than Dutch (or any other language for that matter), but, as it is a different language, there are certain situations more suited to the English language. You can often achieve more or less the same result with another language, but it may not be as aesthetically pleasing.

From the top of my head, Dante's Divina Commedia would be a decent example. In the translation (Mandelbaum's) I felt that much of the poetic nature of the Italian original was lost. Not because Mandelbaum did a lousy job, but because the English language isn't as flexible as the Italian language in a fixed form of poetry.

I'd also assume that the Dutch and English languages would have much broader range of words, expressions and proverbs concerning the sea than, say, the Kyrgyz language. I'm certain the Kyrgyz language has words for sea and every species of fish you could think of (although most would probably be loanwords), but apart from the strictly technical terms, the Kyrgyz language is probably comparably poor in this area. The opposite would be the case for the steppes, most likely.

I don't really want to compare different languages in terms of "good" or "bad", but to fail to recognise aesthetic merit in different areas seems a little short-sighted to me. It's what makes linguistic interesting, in my opinion.

[peter_d]

I agree that some languages have a broader range of words for certain thematic areas or certain phenomena that are typical for the region where the language is spoken. I heard or read somewhere that the Inuit language has over a hundred words for snow.

But puns, allusions, subtlety... those are different things in my opinion. I think they are much more determined by the way one uses the language. Puns and allusions are not confined by the tool (the language), but by the way the tool is used.

And aesthetic merit of a language is a highly subjective issue, I find. Nevertheless we are on the same page when it comes to linguistics. Very interesting indeed!

[Omo]

Amoxcalli's statement saddens me. He (she?) prefers to write in English, a language which has entered his life at a later stage than Dutch and to which I would assume he has therefore not the same immediate emotional connection, to favour a possibly broader audience over a closer audience, i.e. one that is more aware of cultural, historical, social issues which he were to address in literary writing regardless of the actual topic, and would also likely be more amenable to his "puns, allusions, allegories".

I can agree that different languages have different registers and offer different ranges and lack resp. wealth of terminology in certain areas; Dutch however, has made the step from an everyday people's language to a literary language a long time ago (I have no idea about Dutch literature, so I cannot comment further on this - I guess the only Dutch book I ever (tremendously!) enjoyed was Tonke Dragt's modern children classic "De brief voor de Koning" ... when I was about 8 ), so it should be suitable for every form of literary expression, and if Amoxcalli doesn't think so I would say this tells us more about his writing talent and his (lack of) literary command of his Dutch than about the language itself.

I'm afraid he is part of a trend, though, and that quite a few people prefer English to their native tongue shows us that there has already been a loss of literary culture due to overwhelming cultural pressure.

[Amoxcalli]

Omo, I was raised bilingual, so if English entered my life at a later stage, which is likely, it's still part of my "heritage" as much as Dutch is. Besides, my first words were in Arabic, a language don't master.

I only really consider Dutch my first language because I've got a Dutch passport and Dutch parents. I've spent most of my childhood outside the Netherlands. I just don't have an emotional connection with the Netherlands or its literature (which I find poor and monotonous compared to literature from other European countries, but that's not really relevant).

I'm certain it also says something about my lack of talent as a writer, but that's no reason for me to stop doing something I enjoy, is it?

When comparing languages, the differences in vocabulary are a given. They undoubtedly affect the way the languages is written, but you shouldn't overlook grammar either. Kafka, for instance, makes a extensive use of a grammatical structure that places the main verb at the end of the sentence, something which simply can't be replicated in English. The atmosphere that's created with this structure can of course be created through other methods too, but I feel that it's quite fundamentally different (by the way, this is also why I'd recommend reading Kafka in the original German. I found the English translation disappointing and the Dutch translation only slightly less so). From the top of my head, I wouldn't know any other examples, but I'm sure there's plenty.

Ultimately, what I think it comes down to is that I don't think a good author in a certain language, will not necessarily be a good author in another, even if he/she masters that language. Dutch author Gerard Reve, who's held in high regard in Dutch literature, also wrote works in English, which are left unread most of the time, for good reason.

In my experience, it's also easier to write a story in the language of the location where the story is taking place. Obviously, I can't back this up with anything, as it stems purely from my own experiences with writing, but I believe it's true. As I've never written something situated in the Netherlands, I've never felt the urge to write it in Dutch.

Concerning the trend of English literature pushing aside Dutch literature in Dutch bookshops, I'm afraid it's true. I suppose the level of English education is at least partly to blame (according to EU statistics, 87% of people living in the Netherlands could read and write English as a second language), but also the fact the all bar the best and most popular foreign authors are translated to Dutch, while often readily available in English, doesn't do this any good.

It may also be worth nothing that in the Netherlands, you're required to complete a reading list in Dutch, English and a modern foreign language in order to obtain your High School diploma. Ask around on any Dutch High School, and you'll find nearly everyone enjoys, or at least doesn't mind, reading literature in a foreign language, but struggles with Dutch. Complaints I often hear are that it's boring, fatalistic and filled with sex (this is teenagers, mind you! Complaining about the height of the level of sex, just imagine).

Also, I'm a he.