I left Russia for America when I was thirteen — that’s a difficult age to make cultural and language adjustments. Others in my family are amazing at translating from one language to another; but I’m not particularly good at it. I find learning a new language and a novel way of thinking very hard. If fact, I get stuck in a language — when I think of something in English, it is extraordinary hard for me to retrieve just the right set of words in Russian. It feels like there is a physical divide in my brain between the regions that utilize English and those that work in Russian. For years, I’ve tried to learn French too, and all I have to show for it are just a few scatterings of words. But I love the musicality of French almost as much as that of Russian. I can feel the possibilities, even as I can only grasp a little bit of them.

For a wonderfully nuanced discussion of being forced to exist in a new language, I strongly recommend a book by that title: Lost in Translation: A Life in a New Language by Eva Hoffman. I particularly identify with Eva’s story. She emigrated from Poland to Canada as a young teenager, and writes about trying to recapture herself in a new language. In Polish, she felt light and graceful, but in English, she felt clumsy and leaden. She grew up to be quite a wonderful writer in English.

I speak two languages. Not all words or ideas are shared between the two of them, although most are and certainly it is usually possible to convey meaning across the two. But some words only exist in one and not the other, even basic ideas like words for a particular color — light blue has its own word in Russian, for example. There are also feelings that are captured in a single word in one language but require a sentence or even a paragraph to express in the other. Finnish word “sisu” can be loosely translated as a “stoic determination, tenacity of purpose, grit, bravery, resilience and hardiness,” but it’s hard to describe in English. You might hate doing a thing, but the thing has to be done, so you will do the thing.

Some languages assign genders to nouns, which, in turn, change the verbs and descriptors that go along with them. The genders are not constant between languages. Russian, for example, has three genders. Seeing something as feminine colors how we think about that object, focusing on one set of traits over another. And there is music to language. Direct translations — word for word — have a different musicality to them, and often miss the greater meaning. In one language, a word might sound whimsical and fun, while, in the other, it sounds terse and plain. Some shades of meaning get lost in the process. I guess that’s why literature, and poetry in particular, often don’t translate well from one language to another. Some meaning gets across, certainly, but nuance gets left out. The music and imagery of words can get lost in translation.

Our language sets limitations on our world — you can’t see what you don’t know to look for. And language is not static. It evolves and changes. And because our history is written, we continuously re-examine it through the point of view of our times and the lens of our language. As language and vantage point move and transform with time, so does our interpretation of historic events, making it easy to manipulate our understanding of the past to serve the goals of our future.

There are TED Talks on this subject. In his talk, language creator David Peterson says that civilization rests upon the existence of language. His talk is equal parts passionate and hilarious. He shows how studying, preserving, and inventing new languages helps us understand our collective humanity. Peterson gives a quick lesson on High Valyrian, one of two languages he created for “Game of Thrones” (along with Dothraki). “Language is not merely a tool,” he says. “It is our legacy, it’s our way of conveying what it means to be human.”

Another TED Talk that I’d strongly recommend is one by Lera Boroditsky, because it is nice and short and gives a few examples of how the language one uses changes the reality in which they live: How Language Shapes The Way We Think.

In her talk, Boroditsky touches upon the effect of cultural differences on language. Culture is partly expressed through language. For all of the beauty of cave paintings (some date back an astonishing 40,000 years), language must have come first. It must have taken a lot of negotiation and conversation to create this art in the dark depth of the labyrinthian caves. What we talk about, what we pay attention to, and what we remember comes down mainly to language. Just think back to your earliest memories. I only have a few non-verbal ones. Most of my memories are anchored in language. Language is how we recreate our society generation after generation.

Humans are not the only animals on earth to use sounds to communicate nouns. There are primates that consistently use the same combination of utterances to signal the presence of predators, having different sound combinations for a snake or a bird of prey. And other animals are listening — true inter-species communication. When a primate makes the snake sound, others look down to the ground. When they shriek the “word” for eagle, everyone looks up. But is that language? I don’t think so. Nouns alone are not enough to convey knowledge, although they work to signal danger with a certain degree of specificity. As far as we know right now — and this could change with new research — humans are the only animals that internally store their life story using language. Humans probably started with nouns, but our species was able to take the next leap in language development and added very useful verbs, and then qualifiers. This allowed us to make plans and express multi-step directions. It let us make amazing cave art.

Which brings me to science fiction alien contact stories. Communicating with aliens will be more complicated than trying to understand animals on our planet, where we share the environment, have most senses in common, and come from the same genetic stock. Communication requires a foundation of mutually agreed upon concepts. Since our environment, and the senses we possess to access it, informs our culture and the language we use, how do we find common ground? Writers and scientists have looked to mathematics as common ground. But it will be very hard to explain friendship, loyalty, and love via math alone. This is a deep creative vein for sci fi writers to explore.

For those who want to nerd out on words, consider viewing Erin McKean’s TED Talk: The Joy of Lexicography. She said that people think her job is to be the guardian of the language, but her real joy is in finding new words and usages. I really enjoyed it!

And I’ve personally been fascinated by the difficulties of communication between very different creatures and cultures. I’ve written several stories using that theme. Becoming Animals focuses on inter-species understanding. Harvest is a first contact story. Good Girl explores language and meaning in AI intelligence.

Happy reading!