Gorgeously written essay. I love how you go back and forth and sideways in your learning and love of language and how ultimately, it’s Christ that unifies all these voices for you.
An absolutely stunning essay! I, too, love languages. Your description of being suddenly immersed in an English-speaking preschool (with Jewish influence) is fascinating - and brings back memories for me. I went to a French preschool in Belgium, and it was a similar shock. I remember being dragged down the hallway by my teacher as I yelled into the void, "Doesn't anyone here speak English?" It was full immersion into French, and I picked it up really quickly, as young children do.
Your essay reminds me of a passage from (I think??) "Surprised By Joy," where Lewis speaks of the insufficiency of translating between languages. If we are going to translate "navis" from the Latin, we lose something if we simply land on "ship." Rather, it is better to imagine the vessel with the sails (and the pirates :)) bobbing in the waves. I suppose as one becomes fluent in a language, this is what happens. We stop making word-to-word connections. We stop translating, and instead, we speak from the imagination, if you will.
Amy, your comments remind me of another thing that is lost in translation. It is difficult to retain the voice of the original piece when translating. I have finally found an accessible translation of The Cloud of Unknowing by Carmen A. Butcher and enjoyed reading her (lengthly) introduction including this observation: "I refuse a blow-by-blow translation. . . . Only a sense-by-sense interpretation makes you want to pick a book up over and over again. . . . A different but faithful version is created by listening keenly and humbly to the original's voice." Only talented translators achieve this and I believe, Sara, you will be one of those.
I especially love the sense of how language was part of the dark, inward space in which our being sparked into tendons, irises, etc in the womb, how that echoes Christ's incarnation so beautifully here, how these connections can't be extinguished.
It also gave me something of a sense of what Revelation describes about "every kindred and tongue" singing the song of the redeemed. How much richer it will be than even before Babel, when all our fragmented words are regathered around Jesus.
Thank you for sharing, Sara! I loved comparing and contrasting my experience with yours - Cantonese was my first language but I replaced it with English when I started preschool. And though I barely speak it now, my mother tongue still touches something deep in me when I hear it. Like you and Psalm 23, hearing my own Chinese name in a psalm, as a verb meaning "to comfort", was a profound and beautiful thing for me. I hope studying ancient Hebrew continues to bless you with insight about who God is and who you are in him!
The comments below are so right! I love the way you explore your memories and reflect on them. It seems like you gather threads from history, your childhood, the incarnation and pentecost and weave them together in a beautiful essay about language and the Word. I love it!
Gorgeously written essay. I love how you go back and forth and sideways in your learning and love of language and how ultimately, it’s Christ that unifies all these voices for you.
Beautiful!!
Our papery lexicons scorch to ashes in the fiery brightness of the pronouncement of God. 😍
I loved this. Thank you!
An absolutely stunning essay! I, too, love languages. Your description of being suddenly immersed in an English-speaking preschool (with Jewish influence) is fascinating - and brings back memories for me. I went to a French preschool in Belgium, and it was a similar shock. I remember being dragged down the hallway by my teacher as I yelled into the void, "Doesn't anyone here speak English?" It was full immersion into French, and I picked it up really quickly, as young children do.
Your essay reminds me of a passage from (I think??) "Surprised By Joy," where Lewis speaks of the insufficiency of translating between languages. If we are going to translate "navis" from the Latin, we lose something if we simply land on "ship." Rather, it is better to imagine the vessel with the sails (and the pirates :)) bobbing in the waves. I suppose as one becomes fluent in a language, this is what happens. We stop making word-to-word connections. We stop translating, and instead, we speak from the imagination, if you will.
This is such a lovely essay, Sara. Thank you.
Amy, your comments remind me of another thing that is lost in translation. It is difficult to retain the voice of the original piece when translating. I have finally found an accessible translation of The Cloud of Unknowing by Carmen A. Butcher and enjoyed reading her (lengthly) introduction including this observation: "I refuse a blow-by-blow translation. . . . Only a sense-by-sense interpretation makes you want to pick a book up over and over again. . . . A different but faithful version is created by listening keenly and humbly to the original's voice." Only talented translators achieve this and I believe, Sara, you will be one of those.
I especially love the sense of how language was part of the dark, inward space in which our being sparked into tendons, irises, etc in the womb, how that echoes Christ's incarnation so beautifully here, how these connections can't be extinguished.
It also gave me something of a sense of what Revelation describes about "every kindred and tongue" singing the song of the redeemed. How much richer it will be than even before Babel, when all our fragmented words are regathered around Jesus.
(Yes, gorgeously written.) Thank you.
Thank you for sharing, Sara! I loved comparing and contrasting my experience with yours - Cantonese was my first language but I replaced it with English when I started preschool. And though I barely speak it now, my mother tongue still touches something deep in me when I hear it. Like you and Psalm 23, hearing my own Chinese name in a psalm, as a verb meaning "to comfort", was a profound and beautiful thing for me. I hope studying ancient Hebrew continues to bless you with insight about who God is and who you are in him!
This was most interesting!! My mother tongue is German, whihc I can still speak, read and write.
I think it is beautiful and unlocks something about Babel and Pentecost and te Word who became Flesh
I really enjoyed this article. It touched me on a visceral level.
thank you, Kyoung, for this wonderful journey through linguistics and showing how Jesus put flesh on the Word. I especially love the concepts of :
Our papery lexicons scorch to ashes in the fiery brightness of the pronouncement of God.
the theologian Walls says: that the Incarnation was the ultimate act of translation.
What a beautiful essay/story/truth-telling/saga/prophesy. Thank you! Danke!
The comments below are so right! I love the way you explore your memories and reflect on them. It seems like you gather threads from history, your childhood, the incarnation and pentecost and weave them together in a beautiful essay about language and the Word. I love it!
Lovely and thought-provoking. ❤️
I am new to this group.
This is beautiful