1970, Germany, Cologne. A cheerful red-haired Englishwoman named Carol locks eyes with a handsome Tunisian named Chedly. They are drawn to each other, and the only problem for the lovers is that neither knows the other's language. Choosing German as their medium of communication, the couple exchanges their first words of love in a foreign language. Three months later, they announce their engagement...
Forty-six years have passed since then—children came, then grandchildren, a number of English lessons took place—and they are still together. The story of Carol and Chedly Mahfoud is one of many: people meet, fall in love, and build relationships despite language and cultural barriers.
“Language, as a border that can be crossed, holds a special romance,” writes Lauren Collins, a correspondent for the American magazine The New Yorker, who recounts her own linguistic adventures in her new book When in French: Love in a Second Language, a blend of humorous memoir, love story, and serious research on the connection between language and thought.
In the early years of their relationship, American Collins and her French husband Olivier communicated in English, but conversation in his native language was not possible. “We didn't have that convenient code in which all sorts of attitudes and assumptions are encrypted, and with which some people can get to know each other almost telepathically,” Collins writes.
After another particularly difficult discussion in which each painfully tried to understand what the other meant, Olivier complained, “Talking to you in English is like touching you with gloves on.” “Those words opened my eyes to the distance that would always exist between us if I didn't learn his language,” Collins told a BBC Culture columnist.
“Probably all of us from time to time think about or dream of learning a foreign language, but it's very hard to do if you don't have a truly urgent need for it.” Eager to establish a deeper connection with her partner, Lauren began studying French. She took it up with enthusiasm, but learning a new language and immersing oneself in a foreign culture always comes with pitfalls (once, confusing words, Lauren told Olivier's mother that she had given birth to a coffee pot) and disappointments. “Studying French intensively, I felt sluggish and exhausted, as if I were dog-paddling in still water,” she writes.
Lauren Collins is not alone in her plight. “I felt discouraged; I remember my tongue aching from the effort of pronouncing different vowels,” says Anna Irvine of her first attempts to speak French all day. She moved to Paris in 2011 with her French partner Christophe Sigal. Both Anna and Christophe confirm that language learning involves constant discussions and discoveries against the backdrop of the relationship's development and requires patience, trust, and perseverance. Anna had to rely on Christophe's explanations to understand the important difference between the words dégoûtant and dégueulasse; Christophe had to figure out the difference between the English expression “it's ridiculous” and the French “c'est ridicule” (in both cases, the second is much ruder).
An additional challenge in learning a language is the need to understand the unfamiliar cultural background of one's partner. “I was born in a village in the south of France,” Christophe says, “so here it's not just a different language, but also different views and beliefs.”
The same applies to the nearly half-century union of Carol and Chedly Mahfoud. They constantly have to find compromises, taking into account each other's cultural peculiarities. “Like any other couple in a mixed marriage, we constantly have to put in a little more effort to understand the partner's mentality,” Carol laughs. “I never really know why he annoys me—because he's Tunisian, because he's French, because he's a man, or just because he's an old fool!”
It is only natural that all these difficulties come to the fore when partners who are native speakers of different languages start arguing. “That's when everything comes out, everything you can and cannot express, because it matters, words in such a situation have great significance,” notes Anna Irvine.
Aneta Pavlenko, a professor of applied linguistics at Temple University (USA) who has studied various emotions, including anger, in romantic relationships between speakers of different languages, agrees with this statement. “Differences become especially acute during arguments, because at that moment a person has the least control over their speech, yet needs a wider range of words to express their emotions,” she believes.
Pavlenko, whose native language is Russian, argues that even how anger is perceived in different cultures can affect the course of an argument. “English-speaking scholars often consider anger a universal concept, but as a native Russian speaker in a foreign culture, I initially found it difficult to understand, because in Russia we distinguish different gradations.” “At first, it was hard for me to fill the gap between the English word 'anger' and two Russian concepts—'serdit'sya' and 'zlit'sya'. Psychologists explain that certain situations evoke certain feelings in us, but how we name those feelings depends on our native language.”
Thus, in an argument, every word matters, which, according to Anna Irvine, unexpectedly turns into an advantage. “It slows down the conversation,” she explains. “At the same time, in my opinion, it promotes greater awareness. You have to be more attentive to your speech, to what and how you say it.”
“Loving Olivier in his native language – exciting and caressing him with words – was very pleasant,” rejoiced Lauren Collins, having grown closer to her partner through mastering his language. Understanding French and its inherent division between formal and familiar address helped her realize that she sometimes misinterpreted her beloved’s behavior. “I once attributed Olivier’s restraint to pessimism, but now I see in him a deep, hopeful romanticism – a reluctance to exaggerate or promise too much,” she writes.
However, the process of learning a second language – perhaps like the process of mastering any new skill, such as playing a musical instrument or drawing – held many revelations for Lauren. Although her motivation for learning the language was love for a man, she gained much more – new experiences and new perspectives. “I started a separate romance with the French language,” the writer recounts.
But can learning a new language change our way of thinking? The idea that language influences thought, known as “linguistic relativity and determinism,” gained popularity in the mid-20th century with the emergence of the Sapir–Whorf hypothesis. People are “very much at the mercy of the particular language which has become the medium of expression for their society,” writes Sapir.
Since then, this hypothesis has been largely challenged. Noam Chomsky rejected it with the theory of universalism, based on the fact that children are equally capable of learning any language. And cognitive linguist Steven Pinker developed Chomsky’s ideas in his 1994 book “The Language Instinct,” declaring that language is an innate human ability, not a component of culture.
However, recently a reduced version of the theory of linguistic relativity, called the “neo-Whorfian paradigm,” has been formulated, which has been more favorably received in some academic circles. According to this theory, the existence of untranslatable words does not mean that we perceive the world fundamentally differently; we simply place slightly different emphasis depending on the language, place, and interlocutor. This hypothesis even formed the basis of the plot of the new blockbuster film “Arrival,” starring Amy Adams as Louise Banks, a linguist called in by the U.S. military to decipher the language of mysterious aliens who have arrived on Earth. As it turned out, the language spoken by the heptapod aliens indicated that they perceive time completely non-linearly. Chiang’s story does not express a rigidly deterministic view but suggests that language (even alien language) influences thought.
And although many linguists are skeptical about this, people who speak foreign languages often report that the language they speak leaves an imprint on their personality – they often feel more free expressing their thoughts in a non-native language. “In languages learned in adolescence or adulthood, we don’t have such a strong emotional connection to certain emotional aspects of language, such as swear words,” explains Aneta Pavlenko. “It’s easier to swear in a foreign language, easier to say ‘I love you,’ even if you can’t do it in your native language.”
Lauren Collins is close to the neo-Whorfian paradigm. Learning a second language as an adult opened up a new view of the world for her – it’s not such a radical change, but it can be compared to how Louise in the film “Arrival” realizes that through a certain linguistic empathy, she develops a different perception of time. The difference here is very subtle: “It’s not about what you can do in this language,” explains Collins, “but what you have to do in it.”
Collins’s book is a remarkably interesting and convincing testimony in favor of learning your partner’s language – indeed, any foreign language. However, for multilingual couples, according to Pavlenko, there are no general rules. “I think people find their happiness in different ways. I would never call this a recipe for a successful life together. I myself am married to an American who speaks English and knows only a few words of Russian, and we have been dizzyingly happy together for twenty years.”
But Collins believes that those who decide to try to learn a language may be in for a surprise. “I felt that Olivier had his own secret corner that I would never reach if I didn’t learn to speak his language, but imagine my surprise and joy when I discovered the same secret corner in myself! Maybe it wasn’t secret, just new. Maybe French created it in me.”