Fiction Daily.
A blog on writing, writers and why we read. Posted most mornings by Marion Blackburn.
Many voices
Another language is another soul, said Charlemagne. What brought me back to French language last spring was not a romantic ideal, but something more profound.

When hearing, reading and speaking French, a part of me can breathe. It's a part that otherwise stays hidden, cooped up inside, a part I never knew existed, really, until I learned another language.

When I spoke Czech, I also discovered another part of my spirit. The Czech language is very personal and intimate; it changes so frequently that everyone who speaks it conjures up their own inflections, diminutives of nouns, nicknames and ways to express themselves.

My Czech was never very good, but I did manage to communicate with others and once I could, I formed many deeply personal relationships.
2008-01-23 14:00:20 GMT
Comments (1 total)
Great thread recently ... what language -- and specific languages -- bring to our experience. Can a person ever really "get" France without learning French? Could a person every really "get" America without learning American English? We visit these countries and feel like we come to understand them a little bit, through the walks and museums and dinners and cathedrals and shopping. But without the language, we don't really get to know the people themselves. Maybe that's what is really meant by the term "language barrier."
2008-01-24 10:56:45 GMT
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