I recently read a bloggers comment on how he wished he could learn and speak all languages. His appreciation for linguistic expression and his unprejudiced and progressive desire to know all forms of communication was inspiring. Although I share the passion for languages to some extent, I find my own interpretation of language to be partial and heavily subjective. Some languages are infused with memories, experiences and emotions, positive or negative that have transformed their significance into something much more powerful for me.
Today I visited two blogs belonging to some of my followers. One of them was Italian and the other French. Though unable to understand their content, I was mesmerized by the beauty of the written language. I have a life long admiration and appreciation for French language. I have worshipped it from afar, as an unattainable measure of linguistic beauty, be it in the form of French music or movies or the rare chance when I get to be around French speakers.
I believe the elevated status that this language holds for me has to do in part with its inherent beauty. I recently learned the term essentialism that refers to appreciation of something, based on its essence and not merely a superficial impression. No doubt, French is a very beautiful language in its essence. It has subtly passionate and seductive tones, and the melodic rhythm of a sonnet that captures my attention from the start, to the very end and resonates somewhere deep, deeper than my eardrums. It resonates somewhere deep within the soul. I remember when I traveled across Europe, as soon as I stepped out of the Italian train in the French riviera, I felt starstruck by the ordinary French speaking to each other in that beautiful melody.
My admiration for all things French also has to do with my childhood memories. I grew up reading French literature including works of masters such as Roman Rolland, Victor Hugo, Gautier, Emile Zola, Alexander Dumas, and Albert Camus and several accounts about my favorite emperor, Napoleon. This was courtesy of my mother’s expansive library. Another early memory that is linked to a fuzzy and happy childhood comes from when I attended a daycare center run by a French woman who lived in Iran at the time. Oddly, I remember very little from the time that had such an impact on me. My mother tells me how we were taught to walz (we were 3 and 4 year old children!) and to sing French songs. The one thing I do remember is how to sing Frère Jacques, I song that has sentimental value indeed.
Then there is French food, cheese, wine, my all time favorite the French baguette and last but not least the French sense of elegance and fashion. For reasons that can be traced as far back as my very first memories to the cheese I like to spread on my baguette, I love all things French!
But that is not all I have to say about languages. I speak three languages, Farsi is my mother tongue so is Azeri and they are very important parts of who I am, how I think and how I express myself. American English, on the other hand, has become a part of my adult life. I am comfortable with English and it fits me. Though I have far less fluency and eloquence than what I desire, I find myself thinking and even dreaming English. It too has become a part of me. I never thought of English as beautiful, or not. English just was; and it became a part of me.
There are some languages that I do find unlikeable. I used the term “unlikeable”, to emphasize the subjective nature of my assessment. The one that comes to mind is One Arabic. Ever since the first time I remember hearing the langue, I recall not liking it. I am not certain that this dislike was entirely my own opinion and not that of others around me. My mother, for example, did not like Arabic. Considering all the political and religious changes Iran went through during my childhood, Arabic became more than just a language. It was a symbol of religion, of religions oppression, of slashing women’s rights, and of authoritarianism. It became the language of war and that of death.
In the early years of the Islamic revolution, music was banned in Iran and the only acceptable form of music was Quran verses or other religions songs mostly in Arabic. A few days ago I listened to a program on NPR about the country of Mali and its recent change to an oppressive religions government after the imposition of the Sharia law. They talked about the recent ban on all forms of music other than religions verses. A French-speaking musician and rapper performed a beautiful song in French, showing signs of resistance and risking persecution. I was instantaneously transported back to my childhood in Iran, to when my taking piano lessons, had it been found out, would have been considered criminal and resulted in the persecution of my family.
In school we were taught Arabic and Quran since the 6th Grade. I was taught this language for 7 years and I have forgotten it all, unable to say a simple hello in Arabic. I used to blame my inability to speak Arabic to the poor methods used in teaching the language but I now believe the reasons run deeper. Perhaps my refusal to retain what was learned and in fact passed during all my examinations, was a conscious or unconscious act of rebellion and defiance.
Languages are more than mere forms of communication. They hold within them powers, good and bad, depending on how they are used. They, similar to music or other forms of art can illicit powerful emotional responses. I have a desire to understand the linkage between these emotional associations, as they relate to my own response to language, and that of others. Perhaps by doing so, one can learn to re-associate previously learned languages with more pleasant memories. I am eager to learn if a language with positive and pleasant emotional associations, can be taught and learned more effectively.