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Jhumpa Lahiri: "I've always existed in a kind of linguistic exile."

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In this chapter, the author describes the process of learning two different languages as comparable to dealing with different siblings. She describes her confident handling of her mother tongue English as a "hairy, smelly teenager", whereas her new and uncertain handling of her Italian is described as a newborn who still needs a lot of care. She describes her English as supple and powerful, but her Italian as insipid and dull. Nevertheless, both children have their place, need different care and influence each other. Faced with the task of translating her own texts from English into Italian, she decides against it. She even feels guilty about betraying her own Italian. In the end, she sticks with her Italian and enjoys listening to her newborn child "Italian" slowly grow up without being disturbed by her big brother "English".

Despite feeling guilty about not translating her book from Italian to English, she ultimately chooses to nurture her Italian language skills without interference from her more dominant English. In doing so, she embraces the growth of her Italian, allowing it to develop at its own pace.

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Jhumpa Lahiri's third novel is the triumphant culmination of her 20-year love affair with Italian, an obsession that led her to move to Rome with her family almost 10 years ago. She renounced all reading in English and began to write only Italian. Published in Italy in 2018 as Dove mi trovo - "Where I find myself" or "Where am I?" - it is her first novel written in Italian. Now she has translated it into English under the title Whereabouts.

The story follows an unnamed woman around an unnamed city over the course of a year, each chapter an espresso shot of regret and loneliness. In the second chapter, "On the Street", the narrator bumps into a man, the husband of a friend, whom she "might have been involved with, maybe shared a life with": they go into a lingerie shop because she needs to buy a pair of tights, leading the reader to think we have begun a particular kind of story. But many of these streets lead nowhere. The chapters relate different relationships or connections: a visit to her mother; a daily chat with a barista; a fleeting encounter. The novel asks: "How does a city become a relationship in and of itself for the female protagonist?" she says now. This is a book about belonging and not belonging, place and displacement - questions of identity that Lahiri has explored throughout her fiction, whether set in New England, Calcutta or now (we guess) Rome. Following a year of enforced isolation for so many, not least in Italy, this "portrait of a woman in a sort of urban solitude", as she describes the novel, has assumed an unexpectedly timely resonance.

It is hard to explain the forces in life that drive you to a language and then to a place and then to a new life

Today Lahiri is at home in New Jersey: " Mi trovo Princeton," she says. She returned to teach at the university in 2015, while maintaining a long-distance relationship with Rome. "I had two sets of keys. I had this other life, in this other place," she explains, until coronavirus struck last year; her son was still in school in Rome at the time. On the shelves behind her, the only visible title is a book facing outwards with "ITALIAN" in large print. Her previous book, In Other Words, was her first written in Italian (translated by Ann Goldstein, Elena Ferrante's translator) - "a sort of linguistic autobiography", it is a passionate account of her "pilgrimage" to Rome and quest to conquer the language. At the end she confesses to a slight embarrassment at having written such a personal book "of love, of suffering", and I suspect she feels similarly about giving interviews (which, along with reviews, she never reads). She is as thoughtful and composed as you'd expect from reading her fiction, with the same quiet humour it might be easy to miss.

"I'm the least experimental writer," Lahiri told New York Times magazine in 2008 when her second collection of short stories, Unaccustomed Earth, went straight to No 1 on the US bestseller lists, prompting Time magazine to declare a changing of the guard in US fiction. "The idea of trying things just for the sake of pushing the envelope, that's never really interested me." And it is true that her elegantly melancholy short stories - her first collection, Interpreter of Maladies, won the Pulitzer in 2000 when she was 33 - belong to the realist tradition. Eschewing the showy irony of many of her American peers, or the lush prose and epic sweep typical of Anglo-Indian fiction at the time, she depicted the everyday lives of (often middle-class) Asian-American immigrants with the same compassionate scrutiny and moral complexity that distinguishes the work of her literary heroes William Trevor and Alice Munro.

When in Rome ... 'There is this life happening right on your doorstep' Photograph: Paula Solloway/Alamy

Her first novel, The Namesake, which follows the fortunes of "Gogol", the son of Bengali immigrants, as he makes his way in New York, was made into a film by acclaimed director Mira Nair; and her second The Lowland, a family saga stretching from 1950s Calcutta to New England decades later, was shortlisted for the Booker prize in 2013. Although Whereabouts is a novel, it could be described almost as a collection of connected short stories, and so, in form at least, Lahiri is very much on home ground. She may be a traditionalist, but surely there is no bigger experiment for a writer than adopting an entirely new language? Like a 21st-century Henry James heroine, she shunned the US (the Brooklyn brownstone literary set, of which she was one of the most feted) for the old world charms of Rome, in what she describes as nothing less than an act of "literary survival". "It is really hard to explain the forces in life that drive you to people, to places, to languages," she says. "For me, to a language and then to a place and then to a new life, a new way of thinking, a new way of being. Those are very big things."

She has always felt she existed in "a kind of linguistic exile" long before she left for Rome. She was born in London, the daughter of Indian immigrants, and the family moved to the US when she was two. Growing up in Rhode Island (her father, like many of her characters, worked at the university), with frequent trips to Calcutta, she felt her story to be "much more complicated" than those of her school friends: "There was always 'the other place' and 'the other language' and 'the other world'." Bengali, which she spoke until she was four, is both her mother tongue and "a foreign language", because she can't read or write it: it is her parents' language, "the language of their world". Lahiri and her sister were educated in English, which she came to regard as a bullying "stepmother". "Why am I fleeing? What is pursuing me? Who wants to restrain me?" she asks in In Other Words. "The most obvious answer is the English language."

And yet she loved it, especially for the world of books it opened up. "I love it still," she says now. "But at the same time, emotionally it represented this sort of impossible challenge. My relationship with English was always very much part of the desire as a child to be fully part of that world." Paradoxically, the fact there was "not even a question of really belonging" in Italy finally freed her from being caught between two languages, "that is to say, having to choose between two ways of being, two ways of thinking", she explains. " In poche parole, in few words, it has given me a true sense of belonging, fully recognising that it is 'a sense'."

Written in bursts each time she returned to Rome, Whereabouts grew out of her "day-to-day inhabiting of that city, mostly walking through it". It is fitting that both the novel's inspiration and the English title suggested themselves to her in transit: the idea was "born" on a train in Italy when the author became intrigued by a middle-aged woman she saw sitting alone, "and one looks in the window and maybe one sees oneself". The title came to her suddenly, after months of deliberation, on a flight to Rome - "whereabouts" is "an incredibly English word: it doesn't even have Latin roots". And it is surely no coincidence that each of the enigmatically titled chapters - "At the Trattoria", "In Spring", "On the Couch", "By the Sea" - begins with a preposition (she studied "a stupendous sentence" by Alberto Moravia in order to master Italian prepositions "once and for all"). This is a novel "of oscillation and unsettledness and shadows", she says. "I was thinking about that idea of what it means to pass through life, to always be moving." And yet, unlike Lahiri, who describes herself as "a nomad", her narrator has never left the city in which she was born. She is "always on the move in her world, and yet sort of stuck in her world, nervous about what's on the other side of the border," she explains. "The border - what does that mean today?"

Like her characters, who often "migrate, who physically cross borders, who find themselves at checkpoints", so much of Lahiri's own experience has been "bound up with things like green cards and naturalisation and passports and certificates". In Whereabouts she wanted to imagine what it might be like for someone who has never had to consider these things, and yet who still feels restless, to show that this conflict between feelings of being "rooted and rootless" applies to everybody.

The narrator is a contradiction in other ways, too: a professor in her late 40s, she is alone, yet with many friends and lovers; sometimes she is lonely, sometimes she is content; she envies others their intimacy and is envied for her freedom. "She's at this crossroads. She is a woman who recognises she probably won't become a mother; she may have other relationships but that is not going to be part of her life. How is she going to come to terms with that?" she asks. So much of writing comes out of imagining alternative lives, different paths, she believes. "So what if I didn't have this life? What if I hadn't met the person I did, the day I did and this happened and that happened and a child happened and then another child?" Although she is keen to stress that she is not her narrator, and her Italian adventure was very much "a family experience", the act of travelling makes "you feel solitude more keenly", she says. "It touches deeper parts of you. It makes you question who you are."

The novel's underlying sense of urgency or agitation comes from the fact that it was written in the knowledge that they would one day be leaving. "I always had the return ticket," she recalls sadly. "Sinking into that new place, there was always something that was going to call me back to this place."

The past year has been "an incredibly intense time", as she has watched the pandemic unfold in two homes - Italy and the US. But it has also been one of the most productive: she has just finished a collection, Roman Stories, again written in Italian, which include some inspired by the Bengali immigrants she met in Rome; she is putting together a book of essays on translation (she recently translated the novels of her friend Domenico Starnone, Italy's "finest living writer"); and perhaps most remarkably, her first book of poetry - in Italian - will be published in June. She has never written a poem in English before and "maybe never will", she says. Just as she would never have written Whereabouts in English, she thinks writing in Italian made poetry possible. "When I first started writing in English I felt like an interloper. When I first started writing in Italian I felt like an interloper. When I was writing the poems I felt like an interloper. But maybe that's not a bad thing."

Lahiri hopes to return to Rome this summer, as her daughter is due to start high school there in September. Each time they visit she can't wait to get out into the piazza, "to have that first coffee and see all those people, who are so happy that we are back", she says with passion. "There's this life that is happening right on your doorstep that is always changing and always kind of the same. I miss that." She keeps in touch with friends she made among the many immigrants from Bangladesh living in Rome. "It's the one place in the world where I speak English, Italian and Bengali on a daily basis." This "little triangle" of language is part of the magic of the city for her, she says, "and it is waiting for me in the piazza."

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Jhumpa Lahiri: 'I've always existed in a kind of linguistic exile'

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Jhumpa Lahiri's third novel is the triumphant culmination of her 20-year love affair with Italian, an obsession that led her to move to Rome with her family almost 10 years ago. She renounced all reading in English and began to write only Italian.

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adj. /ˈtræŋkwɪl/

Definitions:

( formal ) quiet and peaceful; calm and peaceful and without noise, violence, worry, etc.

(pp.121 P3) The English is mute, fairly tranquil. Printed and bound, the brothers tolerate each other.

Sample sentence: The coming of the war changed that tranquil village into a hell on earth.

Other word forms:

1. tranquility n.

2. tranquilize v.

3. tranquilizer n. a drug used to make a person or animal calmer

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/ˈkɑːdl/

Definitions:

①to treat somebody with too much care and attention;

②to cook eggs in water slightly below boiling point.

In the Chapter:

I want to protect my Italian, which I hold in my arms like a newborn. I want to coddle it.

Sample sentences:

①The parents tend to coddle their children, making it hard for them to become independent.

②She likes to coddle her cat, always giving it treats and extra attention.

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1. Word with Pronunciation and Part of Speech: Grip [ɡrɪp] (verb)

2. Other Word Forms:

- Noun: grip

- Adjective: grippy (informal usage, describing something that has a good grip)

3. Definition: To take and keep a firm hold of; to grasp tightly.

4. In the Chapter: But, having been ni Italy for almost a year, I am now so gripped by the language that I try to avoid English as much as possible.

5. Sample Sentence: As I walked through the crowded market, I kept a firm grip on my bag to ensure its safety.

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/ˈsʌp.lə.mənt/

Definitions:

① n. the quality of being able to bend easily or be bent easily.

② n. the ability to change quickly and successfully to suit different situations.

(from Cambridge Dictionary)

Sentence in the article:

I'm overwhelmed by the richness, the power, the suppleness of my English.

My sample sentence:

I often hit the gym to keep fit, also to improve my supplement.

When and how you plan to use the word:

When I see someone doing yoga in the gym, I can say that he or she is might trying to improve his or her suppleness.

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Jhumpa Lhariri uses the metaphor “hairy smelly teenager” to describe her English, while her Italian is like her “newborn child”. Will this newborn child ever grow up? And will the teenager ever cut his hair and start a regular job?

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1. Word with Pronunciation and Part of Speech: insipid (ɪnˈsɪp.ɪd) (adj.)

2. Other word Forms: insipidly, insipidness

3. Definition: not having a strong taste or character, or having no interest or energy

4. Sample sentence from the text: "it seems insipid, dull, incapable of expressing my new thoughts." (p.117)

5. Sample sentences: "a pale insipid wine."

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4) Translations from English to Your Language

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4) Translations from English to Your Language

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The metaphor “mother of two children” symbolizes the narrator’s evolved and profound relationship with the Italian language, characterized by intense emotion, deep bond, and unconditional devotion, marking a natural and significant development from their initial romantic infatuation.

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"Clamber uphill" means to climb or move upward with difficulty, often using both hands and feet. It typically describes a strenuous, effortful ascent, such as hiking up a steep or rough terrain.

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(pp.117) Compared with Italian, English seems overbearing, domineering, full of itself.

I, AM, THE CENTER, OF UNIVERSE!

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(pp.117) As if I'd run into a boyfriend I'd tired of, someone I'd left years earlier. He no longer appeals to me.

——The author felt alienated while transforming between Italian and English 'brain', just like you happened to meet your ex-lover on the street.

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She uses this metaphor to descripe her level of English compared to her Italian skills.

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(pp.117)The two languages confront each other on the desk,but the winner is already more than obvious.

——The author uses this metaphor to describe the unequal and disharmonious state between English as her mother tongue and Italian as a newly learned language when she was translating Italian into English.

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+NOUN

maternity leave (for) (rank first, the most common one)

——(a period of time when a woman temporarily leaves her job to have a baby)

maternity ward (≈inpatient ward)

maternity care

maternity hospital

(many are related to the medical care)

+ADJ

maternity paid

PREP+

on maternity

in the maternity

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Definition: having a relationship or experience with a person who is not your husband, wife, or usual sexual partner

Collocations: unfaithful....

1. to

2. Lord

3. in

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▲The most common collocation of coddle is "coddle child", which is very common and reasonable. But interestingly, the second most common collocation of coddle is "coddle criminal". "Coddle criminal" is used to describe "condoning criminals" or "protecting criminals". This phrase is often used to criticize or describe a situation in which the law, society, or an individual displays an overly lenient attitude toward criminals.

▲You can also say "coddle egg" because the word "coddle" has another meaning. It means to cook eggs in water slightly below boiling point.

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Verb: Orient

Definition: To align or position something relative to a specific direction or to familiarize someone with new surroundings or circumstances.

Common Collocations:

1. Orient oneself: This collocation means to find one’s position or direction in a new or unfamiliar setting.

• Example: “After getting lost in the city, I used the map to orient myself.”

2. Orient to: Used to describe aligning or positioning something in a specific direction.

• Example: “The architect designed the building to orient to the east.”

3. Orient towards: Often used in a metaphorical sense to direct attention or effort towards something.

• Example: “The new policy is oriented towards improving customer satisfaction.”

4. Orient students: Used in educational contexts to mean introducing or familiarizing students with a new environment or system.

• Example: “The first week of college is designed to orient students to campus life.”

Noun: Orient

Definition: Refers to the countries of East Asia, particularly China, Japan, and other nearby nations. Historically, it carried connotations of exoticism and luxury.

Common Collocations:

1. The Orient: This phrase often evokes images of East Asia in historical or literary contexts.

• Example: “Traders traveled to the Orient to bring back spices and silk.”

2. Orient Express: Refers to the famous long-distance passenger train service that originally connected Paris to Istanbul, symbolizing luxury and travel to the East.

• Example: “The novel ‘Murder on the Orient Express’ by Agatha Christie is a classic mystery.”

3. Oriental goods: Refers to products originating from East Asia, often used in historical contexts.

• Example: “The market was filled with oriental goods, including porcelain and tea.”

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#1 (pp.119) Compared with Italian, my English is like a hairy, smelly teenager. Go away, I want to say to it. Don't bother your little brother, he's sleeping. He's not a creature who can run around and play.

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#1 (pp.119) Compared with Italian, my English is like a hairy, smelly teenager. Go away, I want to say to it. Don't bother your little brother, he's sleeping. He's not a creature who can run around and play.

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#1 (pp.119) Rispetto all'italiano, il mio inglese mi sembra un adolescente peloso, puzzolente. Vattene, voglio dirgli. Non molestare il tuo fratellino, stariposando. Non è una creatura che può correre e può giocare.

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#1 (pp.119) Rispetto all'italiano, il mio inglese mi sembra un adolescente peloso, puzzolente. Vattene, voglio dirgli. Non molestare il tuo fratellino, stariposando. Non è una creatura che può correre e può giocare.

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(google)Compared to Italian, my English sounds like a hairy, smelly teenager. Go away, I want to tell him. Don't bother your little brother, he's resting. He's not a creature that can run and play.

(YD) Compared to Italian, my English looks like a hairy, stinky teenager. Go, I want to tell him. Don't bother your little brother, by staying. It's not a creature that can run and play.

(GPT4) Compared to Italian, my English seems like a hairy, smelly teenager to me. "Go away," I want to tell him. "Don't bother your little brother, he's resting. He's not a creature that can run and play."

(Gemini) Compared to Italian, my English seems like a hairy, smelly teenager. 'Go away,' I want to tell him. 'Don't bother your little brother, he's resting.' He's not a creature that can run and play.

(DeepL) Compared to Italian, my English sounds like a hairy, smelly teenager. Go away, I want to say to him. Don't molest your little brother, he is resting. He is not a creature that can run and can play.

(Article) Compared with Italian, my English is like a hairy, smelly teenager. Go away, I want to say to it. Don't bother your little brother, he's sleeping. He's not a creature who can run around and play.

Analysis:

①Youdao translation uses the word stinky instead of smelly. "stinky" is less commonly used than "smelly" and has a stronger tone. The Oxford Dictionary’s definition of stinky is having an extremely bad smell, and the definition of smelly is having an unpleasant smell.

②The original text is sleeping, and most translation software translates it into resting. Rest means to relax, sleep or do nothing after a period of activity or illness; to not use a part of your body for some time, and sleep means to rest with your eyes closed and your mind and body not active. The difference between them is that rest can take many forms. To say that someone is resting may mean that he is sleeping, or it can also mean that he is just lying down, or sitting quietly and relaxing. Sleep means it has entered sleep state. The original text uses sleeping to emphasize the author's hope that her English will not interfere with her Italian.

③DeepL uses the word molest, which means to attack somebody, especially a child, sexually. Other translation tool use bother, which means to interrupt somebody; to talk to somebody when they do not want to talk to you.

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(Michael) 相比意大利语，我的英语像是一个臭烘烘的毛头小子。我想对它说“走开！别打扰你弟弟！他还在睡觉！他还不是一个可以跑来跑去疯玩的孩子”。

(Yijia) 和意大利语相比，我的英语像一个毛茸茸、臭臭的青年。走开，我真想对它说，不要打扰你的小弟弟，他在睡觉。他不是一个可以跑来跑去和玩的生物。

(GPT4) 与意大利语相比，我的英语就像一个多毛、臭烘烘的青少年。“走开，”我想对它说。“不要打扰你的小弟弟，他在睡觉。他不是一个可以跑来跑去玩耍的生物。”

(google) 与意大利语相比，我的英语就像一个毛茸茸的臭少年。走开吧，我想对它说。别打扰你弟弟，他正在睡觉。他不是一个能跑来跑去玩耍的生物。

(deepL) 与意大利语相比，我的英语就像一个毛茸茸、臭烘烘的少年。走开，我想对它说。别打扰你弟弟，他在睡觉。他可不是能到处跑着玩的动物。

Analysis:

1.The main difference between these translation is the way they translate the two words 'hairy' and 'creature'.

2.Literal translation and sense-for-sense translation.

Literal translation pays more attention to the meaning of each word itself, while sense-for-sense translation pays more attention to the context and the background of the article.

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イタリア語と比較して、私の英語は、毛深い、臭いティーンエイジャーらしいです。去ってください、私はそれに言いたいです。あなたの弟を悩まさないでください、彼は眠っています。彼は、走り回ることができて、遊ぶことができる生きものでありません。

Compared to English, the Japanese translation sounds politer because it uses honorific, which literally makes the context more formal. And the usage of the word [悩む] which means 'to be worried; to be troubled' in English, is quite different from the word 'bother'. It's more emotional and has the meaning of 'worry' which 'bother' doesn't have.

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There are two peaks around 1927 and 1945, then the curve keeps fluctuating before 21 century, it shows a slow rise after around 2000.

(pp.119) I feel an emotion even more intense, morepure, more transcendent for my children. Maternity is a visceral bond, an unconditional love, a devotion that goes beyond attraction and compatibility.

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(MUNKH) Итали хэлтэй харьцуулхад миний Англи хэл яг л урт үстэй ариун цэвэр сайтар сахидаггүй өсвөр насны хүүхэд шиг л. Тиймд, надаас холдоод өгөөч хэмээн хэлчихмээр байдаг. Чиний дүү чинь нойрсож байх тул сэрээхгүйг эрхэмлэх тун. Тэр энэ тэнүүгээр гүйж тоглож чадах амьтан биш юм.

(GPT4) Итали хэлтэй харьцуулахад миний англи хэл үсэрхэг, муухай үнэртэй өсвөр насны хүүхэд шиг юм. Түүнд "Явж үз," гэж хэлмээр байна. "Бяцхан дүүгээ бүү саад бол, тэр унтаж байна. Тэр гүйж, тоглож чадах амьтан биш."

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(MUNKH) 저의 영어 실력이 이탈리아어랑 비교했을 때 털이 많고 냄새나는 청소년 같다. 저리 가라고 말하고 싶다. 너의 동생은 자고 있으니 귀찮게 하지 마! 너의 동생은 놀고 뛰어다닐 수 있는 존재가 아니다.

(GPT4) 이탈리아어와 비교하면, 내 영어는 털이 많고 냄새나는 십대 같다. "저리 가,"라고 말하고 싶다. "작은 동생을 귀찮게 하지 마, 그는 자고 있어. 그는 뛰어다니며 놀 수 있는 존재가 아니야."

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(Mario) Comparé de mon Italien, mon anglais est comme un teenager poilu qui pue. Case-toi je voulais dire. Dérange-pas ton petit frère, il dort.

(deepL) Comparé à l'italien, mon anglais est comme un adolescent poilu et malodorant. Va-t'en, je veux lui dire. Ne dérange pas ton petit frère, il dort.

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(Mario) Im Vergleich zu meinem Italienisch, mein Englisch ist wie ein haariger, stinkender Teenager. Geh weg möchte ich zu ihm sagen. Störe deinen Bruder nicht, er schläft.

(deepL) Verglichen mit dem Italienischen ist mein Englisch wie ein haariger, stinkender Teenager. Geh weg, möchte ich ihm sagen. Störe deinen kleinen Bruder nicht, er schläft.

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The sentence using this phrase:

'Although he'll remain forever the younger brother, the little guy pulls through.'

'pull through' means 'continue to exist or live after a serious problem or illness'. Here what the author means is that, she finally manages to speak Italian fluently in the dialogue after overcoming so many obstacles.

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This curve fluctuates upward and then downward. The curve value increased sharply after 1980 and declined slightly around 2019.

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Definitions:

1.a movement down.

2.the state or fact of being related to a particular person or group of people who lived in the past.

Collocations:

(n.+prep.) descent into, descent from, descent to

His descent into crime was rapid.

There is a steep descent to the village below.

The evidence supports our descent from a common ancestor.

(adj.+n.) African descent, European descent, Asian descent

(prep.+the+n.) on the descent, in the descent

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The diagram illustrates the usage frequency of the word "orient" in various forms over time, from 1800 to 2022.

~~ Orient (Verb)

The verb "orient" means to align or position something relative to the points of a compass or another specified direction. It can also mean to familiarize someone with new surroundings or circumstances. For example, "The map helped me orient myself in the new city."

~~ Orient (Noun)

When capitalized as "Orient," it refers to the countries of East Asia, particularly China, Japan, and other nearby nations. This usage has historically been common but has seen a decline over the years. The term can sometimes carry outdated or exotic connotations. For example, "The trade routes to the Orient were well-known for their luxury goods."

~~ Analysis of the Diagram

The red line representing "Orient" (noun) shows a significant peak in usage around the early 20th century, likely due to the geopolitical and cultural interest in East Asia during that period. This usage has steadily declined since then.

The green line for "orient" (verb) indicates a more consistent usage over time, with a gradual increase in recent decades. This suggests that while the geographical and cultural reference has declined, the practical use of the term as a verb remains relevant.

The orange line for "ORIENT" (all uppercase) shows minimal usage, indicating that this form is rarely used or may not be significant in common texts.