Why all academics could benefit from a second language

Nelson Mandela famously said, "If you speak to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you speak to him in his own language, that goes to his heart."*

I strongly believe that this is true, and that the same kind of tenet applies to literature; only in reading a work in the original language can you truly begin to understand what the author intended to do and to say with the raw materials available to her.

Of course, there will be times when learning another language may not be practicable or indeed possible - languages in remote or closed communities can be very difficult to access, or it may not be a great use of your time to learn Hungarian solely to read that one article with the tantalising keywords. However, by approaching cultures - and in that I include one's own - from a stolidly monolingual point of view, the scholar is bound to miss out both on varied viewpoints on his area of focus and on opportunities of a more enriching and potentially pecuniary nature.

Briefly, it is important to think about what it might mean to be multilingual in the context of academia. This may just refer to passive language skills such as reading and maybe listening, allowing the scholar to read and understand primary and, importantly, secondary literature on her topic. This sort of familiarity, if not fluency, in another language must be understood to 'count' as multilingualism, because even this opens up opportunities for the scholar in terms of the wealth of scholarship available to him. However, if the scholar is also able to converse in another language, whether it is a language of interest on a research level or another widely-spoken language such as French or German in which conferences and congresses may be held, this allows the scholar to form international links with other researchers and institutions on a more long-standing and personal level.

The practical benefits of multilingualism as explained above are clear. However, it fosters ways of thinking and of interpreting texts and discussions which are of great benefit to academics, especially in the arts and humanities.

For example, writing styles differ across cultures, which is often linked to language. As such, the Anglophone essay in which punchy Points, Examples and Explanations abound is quite at odds with the French dissertation whose conclusion is a gradually unveiled climatic moment, and is often perceived almost as an affront to a reader familiar with German Aufsätze, in which both example and detailed analysis co-occur in the same sentence. These stark structural differences, so closely entwined with specific languages, have in the past caused non-English ideas and texts to languish, untended certainly by the Anglo-American tradition, until decades after their first appearance - the French texts of Jacques Derrida being just one example**. In learning the language, the learner is often taught how to construct arguments within the culture linked to that language, or natural curiosity and motivation to read in the target language will also implicitly expose the learner to new ways of forming arguments.

Apart from writing styles, any multilingual will tell you that there are certain concepts that are best explained in a particular language; for example the Verfremdungseffekt is tied up with the German language in lots of ways, and serendipity is, for me, best explained in English. Terms in different languages come with different connotations, histories and assumptions which, if carefully considered, can greatly enrich an argument or a discussion in an effective and elegant way. Furthermore, many ideas, tropes and stories have been translated across cultures and which have been adapted in various ways. An ability to understand the idea's journey and history, from cross-cultural references to cross-linguistic wordplay, therefore allows the scholar a much deeper understanding of the idea under consideration.

This is just a short collection of my ideas on why multilingualism can benefit the scholar, and therefore academia more generally. I'd be really interested to hear what others think, and about any experiences you might have had learning languages or using them in an academic context.

*http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/06/24/mandela.quotes/
**Thanks to Martine Hennard Dutheil for this observation

Identity crisis

For a little while now, I've felt that my internet handles haven't necessarily represented what I do. I don't expect them to represent who I am particularly deeply, as they're usually limited in characters and two or three words cannot a person summarise in any case (no matter how hard you might try on Twitter).

Anyway. My name, or anything much based on it, has never been an option seeing as it's a spectacularly common British name. I've worked through a fair few handles in my time, from obscure teenage references to a Jonny Wilkinson obsession to my most recent feuille blanche brand. I chose feuille blanche because a) French sounds pretty and b) I liked the idea of 'blank page' as suggesting that I'm open to ideas, that I'm somehow a work in progress in myself. This latter point is no less true than before, but it's not very clear, it's a bit funny to spell and, as an established French phrase, it's sometimes find it free as a username or web address. I also have a more established framework to work in now than when I set myself up on the blog and on Twitter - I belong to an institution, I have a role within that institution, and I'm very proud of both of these things.

So from now on, this blog can be found at discipulaeboracensis.blogspot.com. I know, it's a bit pretentious, but I couldn't help myself. The idea came when I was given my temporary "zoo" office at the université de Lausanne (on which more another time), so called because its large floor-to-ceiling windows face into the centre of the building, leaving the occupant feeling a little like a specimen on display (not that the passing students are the most interested watchers-of-academics, but still!). On wondering what my genus name would be, I eventually landed on discipula eboracensis - student (female, of course) of York.

So there it is. This blog is officially written by a student of York, at York, in York (mostly), who is becoming, bit by bit, a little less of a blank page.

Did anybody else miss March?

Which is to say - oops, it's been a while since I was here last!

I mean, I'm not the only person who seems to have just given March a miss - British springtime is still dragging its feet as far as I can see, despite increasingly desperate entreaties from, well, EVERYONE.

Snow and blue skies on 11th March, my birthday. Very bizarre.

The AWOL status of the Gulfstream apart, what did happen to my March? With the aid of my diary, I can surmise that it got a bit lost under a slew of teaching, teaching observations (on which more another, more coherent time), meetings for a variety of conferences, and a lot of transatlantic Skyping with κύριε καθηγητά. And the small matter of some uninvited SVT, but that's nothing to dwell on, fortunately.

And where did a lot of rushing about and generally being a bit hazy get me? Well, the two reasons for multiple Skype meetings with George have both pretty much borne fruit, or have at least budded: firstly, I gave a paper at the 8th Newcastle upon Tyne PG conference last Friday (5th April), which went down well, if not spectacularly. The work that I have done so far, however, provides a good basis on which to build at least part of my PhD, so that's exciting.

Caught in action by Theodora...who unfortunately papped the worst
slide of my entire presentation - waaaay too much text!

And secondly, a joint project that κύριε καθηγητά and I are working on has been accepted to be presented at the EdiSyn workshop in Konstanz this summer - my first conference outside the UK! So, even if it's feeling like a slog from time to time, results seem to be appearing.

I've learnt a few, arguably more important, lessons along the way, though. Such as the fact that 'no' is a valid word, and it's OK to use it. That even if you're no longer a slave to the term schedule, you still can't just push through for weeks and weeks on end without a break.

Nothing like catching the sunrise from your tent
in the Peak district to chill you out...

And a last thought - a happy body = a happy mind; a run of squash coaching sessions gave me a huge (and underappreciated) boost throughout February, which I think I've missed in March. Better get back onto the court (or into a pool, or similar) soon then!

Or if all else fails... lindy-hoppers + red noses = a wonderful weekend