Hello readers,

This week in our ASTU class (a combined course on academic reading and writing) at the University of British Columbia, we have been reading the graphic narrative Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. Our discussions surrounding this narrative have tackled a wide array of rich and heavy topics such as religion, war, gender equality, and racism, but today I’d like to talk about one theme that struck my interest, and that is language.

In a combined lecture last Friday, some fellow classmates pointed out that Persepolis was originally written in French and speculated whether some of the text may have been lost in translation when it was printed in English. This got me thinking about the many foreign books, movies and songs that are now circulating the world and being translated at a rapid pace, and if any of the original meaning in these pieces has also been lost in translation. Nowadays, with our instant communication systems and high accessibility to education, the translation of books, movies, and other forms of mass media into English (and other major languages) seems almost to be expected, but I view this as a luxury. I believe the apparent ease with which content can be translated can reduce people’s motivation or desire to learn another language, and I also believe that knowing more than one language goes hand in hand with being a global citizen.

Growing up in a first generation Vietnamese-Cantonese family and later attending part of high school in Japan, I have become accustomed to constantly switching between languages within conversation, or having to translate things to my family and friends. One aspect of language that I noticed was that some expressions are challenging–if not entirely impossible–to perfectly translate into another language. For example, when I was watching the movie, Lost in Translation, directed by Sofia Coppola,  I found it surprising that this film chose to not provide subtitles for any of the Japanese spoken on screen despite the fact that it was entirely set in Japan. This made the viewing experience for non-Japanese speakers different from that of Japanese speakers. When I watched the movie a second time with my sisters, who do not understand Japanese, I provided a live translation of the conversations, but I struggled at times because I could not come up with a satisfactory translation of what I just heard, yet in my mind I fully understood the dialogue. After this, I began to question the accuracy of subtitles and other forms of translation.

In a perfect world, we would all be fluent French speakers and would be reading Persepolis in its original form. Alas, this is not the case; however, my point is not to convince you to take up five different languages (although you may, if it pleases you). To tie this all together, my struggles with language have taught me the habit of considering other translations, if possible, of any translated piece that I come across. What one translation may lack, another may provide insight into, and vice versa. As a global citizen, I believe it is vital to consider multiple perspectives or versions of something in order to gain an unprejudiced understanding of the world.