The other day in my Italian class, we were asked to write a poem or a song about our home country in Italian. While writing in a different language for more formal assignments is nothing new to me, I had never had to write creatively before. Although this is something I’ve fervently done in English since I was six years old, it was a completely different experience in Italian–and something I’d like to reflect on.
Writing in a different language changes everything.
Ever since I was young, I’ve loved to put words together, and I’ve had an intuitive sense for how they sound together. When writing fiction, I feel a rush as the images in my head become words on a screen. Each time I finish a story, it feels like a small miracle (and a ton of blood, sweat, and tears) that all of the jumbled ideas have become a coherent piece. It’s not easy by any means, but it’s a mix of art, natural inclination, and hard work.
Writing in a different language, however, is an entirely different ballpark. I’m a strong believer that our personalities shift slightly in each linguistic context–i.e., I’m not exactly the same person in Italian that I am in English–and that we’re shaped by our language. Naturally, writing in a different language provides an interesting opportunity to explore the voice of this persona and how they utilize the other language stylistically.
What does that look like?
For example, I focus more on verbs and actions in English. Much more of my writing revolves around thinking, doing, and strengthening those verbs. After that, it’s all about characters. Again, what are the characters doing, and how are they feeling?
In Italian, I was surprised to find that I gravitated more toward adjectives and emotions. My language was much more descriptive than it usually is in English. As I re-read my piece, I realized that my use of metaphors and more flowery language didn’t even seem like my own. It’s incredible how that works, isn’t it?
The language barrier is a blessing and a curse.
Writing in a different language is an interesting experience because it feels paradoxical. On the one hand, you can write without the intense, immediate self-editing of your native tongue. For me, that means going based off sound, flow, and content in Italian. I don’t stress over every word, and I have a slightly more relaxed approach, at least in creative writing.
Damiano David, an Italian singer and songwriter, said something similar when asked why he was writing more in English than in Italian. He said that it let him get out of his head and be less self-critical. That’s definitely something that I believe a lot of us can relate to.
On the other hand, however, the editing process can be brutal afterward. Although making mistakes is a natural part of learning a language, it can be disheartening and frustrating to compare yourself in your native language and the one you’re learning. It’s a good learning experience, no doubt, but it’s frustrating nonetheless, especially when you pride yourself on doing something well in your mothertongue.
It also drives me crazy to look at my vocabulary (even at an advanced level) in Italian vs English. Although I can communicate without much problem in day-to-day situations, I still lack random words sometimes, and figuring out the exact right word can be difficult. It requires understanding nuance and flow in an entirely different way.
Yet it’s a good challenge.
By struggling, experimenting, and taking risks, however, writing in another language becomes a wonderful (and difficult) opportunity. In my case, especially because I was writing about something so complex and personal, it actually allowed me some psychological distance from the topic. This psychological distance let me distill my thoughts and write with a different rhythm and viewpoint than I would have in English, so it was not just a useful linguistic exercise but also an interesting reflective one.
I thought of Jhumpa Lahiri as I wrote this short piece, as she has spoken extensively about navigating the same process of translating between Italian and English and even writing a book in Italian. In her book Translating Myself and Others, she speaks about this fascinating relationship between words and language, as well as the difficulty and reward of finding exactly the right words. Although her perspective on the matter definitely differs from mine in that it’s far more academic and analytical, the sentiment was the same: writing in another language is an emotional journey filled with surprises and new self-knowledge.
Sometimes these challenges are what we need to grow as writers.
Writing is all about growth. In academic writing, we’re constantly trying to learn new skills to improve. Creative writing is no different, and sometimes taking a different approach can unlock a new way of thinking. Not only can you explore your relationship with language, but you can also look at your work through a different lens, which will help you grow both as a person and as a writer.
This was only my first time writing creatively in a different language, but it won’t be my last. Although I am still very, very far from being at the level where I could publish a book in Italian, I’ve already seen the benefits in my writing in English. Language learning really is an incredible journey, and I continue to be surprised at how deeply it impacts you at a psychological, cultural, and emotional level. After this, I completely understand why some MFAs offer programs in bilingual writing–what a beautiful way to explore the craft.
Have you ever written creatively in a different language? What was your experience?
