Has a book ever rubbed you the wrong way because the narration incorporated a second language? If the answer is ‘yes,’ did you keep reading? If not, allow me to make the case for sticking it out and treating your next multilingual book as an opportunity to travel — to experience other cultures through the eyes of your protagonist, no passport required!
When the Tides Held the Moon takes place in Coney Island, NY at the turn of the 20th Century and follows the experiences of a Puerto Rican ironworker named Benny for whom Spanish is his primary language. His narration slides between English and his mother tongue in ways that the an English-only reader/speaker may find a little jarring or even frustrating at first.
And (hold onto your hats) this is intentional!
I realized early in the writing of Tides that bilingual narration was the most authentic and effective vehicle for putting a reader into Benny’s shoes. He is only four years removed from his Spanish-speaking homeland, struggling for identity and agency in a country that has yet to embrace “extranjeros” (translation: “foreigners”) like him. Having to adjust in real time to his choice of words offers Spanish-speakers authentic representation, while offering non-Spanish speakers the experience of being slightly unsteady on their linguistic feet — which is exactly how Benny feels all the time.
And he’s not alone; Tides also features Russian, Hindi, Gaelic, Italian, and some German because, apart from Benny, the company of sideshow performers he takes up with are an immigrant community whose identities are expressed most prominently through their speech. (Even Río the merman has such sensitive ears and is so well-traveled that he is fluent in dozens of languages!)
My book is hardly the first to be multilingual, but I wrote it this way in good faith. Because I believe anyone can identify with a marginalized character, regardless of the ways his language dips in and out of English, if they decide to try.
Unfortunately, a common reaction to bilingual books that center a BIPOC perspective like Benny’s is to set it aside or register the second language as a flaw. Readers used to white-centered stories might also feel turned off by prose that draws on speech patterns usually associated with lower classes or certain races, speech featuring accents or coded language. Unconscious biases like these fence in our imaginations, segregating us along a multitude of social lines without our even being aware of it.
I genuinely think reluctant readers can and should push past that frustration, and not only because the payoff might just be your new book boyfriend or mental escape destination. Enjoying books that center BIPOC in all our linguistic complexities develops our empathic abilities; it is a simple choice made in real time to peer into a character’s heart and embrace what you find there — to step beyond what is familiar where fresh perspectives, new loves, and a complex, fascinating world awaits. Much in the way all the characters in Tides absorb each other’s languages without relying on translations, reading books that integrate other languages is an act of selflessness and love that brings us deeper into the intentions behind the words we can’t translate, a practice that helps us all grow in understanding and compassion.
And friends, now more than ever, those are muscles worth strengthening.
Most of the Spanish in When the Tides Held the Moon can be deciphered in the context of the narration or dialogue, but I also included a glossary to help readers with the nuances of every character’s speech if they want to dig further. If reading BIPOC books isn’t something you usually do, as I always say, it’s just because you need a little practice! Next time you’re at the bookstore or the library, walk the extra five feet to that Own Voices display of books. You never know what fun, interesting, emotional stories you will find there, and you don’t want to miss out!
Especially when there’s a sexy multilingual merman involved. I’m just sayin’.
Comentários