From
“Le Paradis”, a tri-lingual novella with
bilingual poetry by Adam Donaldson Powell:
“Il fait chaud aujourd’hui. Tu n’as pas
soif?” asked Erik.
“Afaitu is in one of his serious moods today.
He has been trying to get in touch with his
spiritual ancestors, and is therefore staying
away from the Devil’s brew (you know: pia).
But I am certain that he would like some cold
water and a joint,” said Eperona with a
playful snicker.
“Pakalolo? Sorry man, I wish I did have some
marijuana. But I do have some bottled water with
me and (of course) a pack of Marlboro
cigarettes. Will that do?”
Afaitu graciously thanked his Swedish friend for
the water and a cigarette, while suggesting:
“Hey, why don’t we take my boat out to a
motu and spend the afternoon just chilling out?
We can pick up some sandwiches and fruit, and
perhaps even some mahi mahi on the way.”
“Mahi mahi sounds good to me,” said Eperona
in his slightly post-adolescent manner ...
grinning, while adding: “and some more beers
too!”
Afaitu shot his two-year younger friend a
pretend-stern look, and then broke out into
laughter.
“What? What did I say that is so funny?”
asked Eperona, himself unable to keep from
smiling. Erik thought he had been left out of a
personal joke, and his eyes quizzically darted
from Afaitu to Eperona, finally resting on
Afaitu.
“It is nothing, my friend. You have been
exactly the same since you were sixteen years
old: the joys of your life are so simple. As
long as you have fish, women and beer, ‘tu es
au paradis’!” replied Afaitu, smiling and
throwing a pebble at Eperona.
“Hey, cut it out!” retorted Eperona, as he
playfully wrestled Afaitu onto his back, pinning
him down with his muscular arms and shoulders.
“And speaking of women ... should we invite
some to join us? What do you think, Erik? I know
this hot ...”
“Merde! What a fucking braggart. Don’t
listen to his crap talk, Erik,” said Afaitu
while pushing Eperona off of himself. “You
would think that Eperona is the biggest stud and
womaniser in the whole of French Polynesia.”
“Et alors!” joked Eperona, now standing over
his two friends and thrusting his hips and groin
forward in repeated erotic movements – half
dance and half sex simulation.
“Damn, Eperona! You look like a raerae or a
mahu impersonating an amateur Polynesian dancer
for tourists,” shouted Afaitu ... causing Erik
to laugh and Eperona to pounce on Afaitu again.
“Amateur? Raerae? My uncle is a raerae, so I
take that as a compliment. In fact, you should
BE so lucky! Here ... I will show you how a
‘raerae’ fucks a titoi (a wanker). Roll over
... I’ve got something for you!” cried
Eperona out as they tussled; and all three men
laughed uncontrollably.
- - - - - - -
From “2014”, a multilingual and
intergalactic novella by Adam Donaldson Powell:
“Ha konwe ilucó Zeta, saj juhe la”
(”Greetings our Zetan friends in Spirit, we
wish contact”) repeated Eonurai telepathically
in Vegan (the language used by the Greys),
directing her energies toward the constellation
that was home to the Zeta Reticulians. “Ha
konwe ilucó Zeta, saj juhe la” … ”If you
can hear this message, then please respond. This
is Eonurai from Terra, with an important message
to you from the Intergalactic Higher Command.”
“Ha konwe Eonurai-at. Saj miile ennwo. Len em
Cuezpå. Ken ta sommo ?” (”Greetings she who
is Eonurai. We are listening. This is Cuezpå.
What is your message ?”) replied the Zetan on
the receiving end of the telepathic
communication directed at the Zetan Central
Command Headquarters.
He then added: “Not to be disrespectful, but
we speak English quite well here at the
headquarters. Perhaps we should continue in
English, as it would be more convenient for us.
Your accent is a bit difficult to decipher
telepathically.”
- - - - - -
Authors
who write bilingually or multilingually usually
employ one or more of the following
alternatives:
1) to write and publish a work in one language,
and then to adapt the work into another language
and then publish it again in the new language;
2) to write sections of a work (usually poems)
in one language, and repeat all of them into one
or several other languages within the same book;
3) to write sections of a book in different
languages, sometimes repeating the same small
works and sometimes combining adapted and other
works in the different book portions;
and 4) combining several of the above-mentioned
techniques in the same book, and/or over a
progression of books.
I employ all four approaches in my literary
publications, and public readings – usually
writing in English, Spanish, Norwegian and
French, but also occasionally using bits of text
in Greek, Arabic, Latin and other languages
where appropriate.
Why do I find this fascinating ? First of all,
we live in a globalized greater society today
where many persons speak and understand multiple
languages to various degrees, where few speak
“the Queen’s English” anymore but rather
national and local adaptations of English,
French, Spanish and other major languages, where
several individuals and groups of expatriates,
immigrants and persons who have lived in many
countries and cultures quite naturally employ
several languages in the course of a simple
conversation – you can hear it on the streets
and busses in major cities all over Europe:
persons in dialogue with another, in person, or
on the cell phone, switching over from Urdu,
West African dialect, French or Spanish to
perhaps Norwegian, Swedish or Danish, and then
to English, and back again. I enjoy matching
this phenomenon together with the adjoining
mixtures of culture – both as experienced by
natives, by immigrants in their new countries of
residence, by tourists who are experiencing and
learning about other cultures ... and also in
culturally-hybridized forms, just as hybridized
language today.
Secondly, by presenting the reader with this new
globalized multilingual and multicultural
reality, I hope that several persons will find
interest in learning new languages (other than
British and North American English) and that
many will also begin to challenge their local
and national perspectives on world culture today
... and tomorrow.
This is not a “new” genre; as many authors
throughout history have played with using
different languages in dialogues within the same
work; and bilingual and multilingual adaptations
in all possible forms is as popular today as
ever before (especially in the international
haiku network). However, the intent to use this
literary form to reflect a modern globalized and
mixed up cultural and linguistic world is a
fairly new concept. We are moving from national
literature in translation to
multicultural/multilingual literature and
“global literature”.
The challenges for writing and publication are
immense. Writing generally requires much
decisionmaking, and when the question of merely
choosing one’s target audience is suddenly
opened up to something greater than primarily
the English-speaking, French-speaking or
Spanish-speaking world, the writing challenges
increase proportionally. No longer is it good
enough to find the right translation of Hindu
ritual texts in the local dialect as practiced
in Kathmandu (as I discovered in my book “Rapture”),
but I needed to find a dialect that would be
understood and accepted by all Hindus in Asia.
In the end I opted to translate some of the
special texts back to English, both out of
global linguistic and religious-cultural
considerations. There are many decisions that
have to do with level of language used,
grammatical and punctuation rules used (for
example, which language’s rules should be
followed in a manuscript that should show
consistency ?), and the complexity of the text
and story/poetry, decisions that have to do with
whether one wishes to present a culture as a
native might or as the outside world peering in
(complete with stereotypes that are both
promoted and challenged), decisions that have to
do with political, religious and cultural values
mirrored on all levels and in all perspectives
(locally, nationally, internationally, and
globally) and the accompanying perceptual
differentiations therein, problems with getting
language and cultural consultants, editors and
colleagues to agree upon the “best” or
“most correct” way to translate or adapt a
text into another language ... and then to
arrive at the best possible compromise for
presentation in the final book, finding a
publisher who will take a chance on publishing a
book where he or she does not understand all of
the languages used and does not have staff or
finances to check every detail in several
foreign languages used ... and the added
responsibility this places on the author. There
is much research, much reliance upon others,
much insecurity and a lot of adrenalin that
flows with expectation until the book has been
on the market for at least a half year without a
major international scandal or crisis having
occurred. Words are not merely “words”, you
see. Words have incredible power.
However, the thrills of doing this kind of
global writing are also enormous. One gets the
feeling that one is truly both “reaching
across the world”, and “binding the world
together” – contributing meaningfully and
intentionally to global communication and
understanding through literature. And the mental
calisthenics can only be compared to
successfully completing a long distance race
with hurdles all along the way. It does get
confusing sometimes. You need to have a solid
base line – as in music – to hold it all
together, but the “dance” itself is
mesmerizing and offers countless possibilities
to both fall on one’s face ... and to get up
again, and (at times) to soar through space like
an eagle – with a view of the world rarely
acknowledged in the hub bub of day-to-day
situations.
It is my hope that more “global literature”
will be written and published in the near future
– including the employment of international
cyberpunk and international urban dialects as
language forms. Language is changing daily, and
authors need to keep up ... and stay ahead
artistically. This is just the beginning of a
whole new world of literature.
--
Adam Donaldson Powell, 2008
