Language, Alienation and Assimilation in Arkady Martine's *A Memory Called Empire*
(Meta note: new posts are on the nth day of the nth month at the nth minute, nth hour, nth second. Be there or be square (I am the square when I forget to post.) Also, I've added comments since you last saw me. Please use them responsiby.)
Hello readers! Wellcome to the second SFF linguistics blog post, this time about alienation and assimilation in A Memory Called Empire...
A Memory Called Empire (Arkady Martine, 2019) is a political thriller space opera. It is also a powerful story about assimilation and alienation in relation to an alluring and hostile culture. Martine does this by endearing us with the viewpoint protaganist, Mahit, and skilfully showing the forces of alienation and assimilation she experiences.
One of the (many) tools Martine uses to achieve this is language. Mahit does not speak the language of the Empire, Teixcalaan, (the empire and the language share the name) natively; She learnt it with care and dedication and each of her encounters with it is also an encounter with the alien, which she shares with the reader.
A Memory was written in English in the early 21st century. This means that all its linguistic doings are in contrast to the language of this period, and this holds in translation as well since she is using a fictional language for Teixcalaan. Though aesthetic effects may be different if one speaks Greek or Nahuatl [1], the languages Teixcalaan is inspired by, the effects caused by the Teixcalaan in contrast with the surrounding (real, modern) language remain. Additionally, commentary within A Memory on the subject of language remain in translations as well.
What Martine does with her fictional language allows us to experience the same assimilation and alienation that Mahit does. There's a number of ways this is achieved, which I shall consider below.
Names, translation and power dynamics
First, an exposition of grammar. Teixcalaanli names have two parts: a numeral (Three, Seventeen) and a singluar noun (Seagrass, Magpie). The other names in A Memory are all in Stationer: 'Mahit', 'Yskandr', 'Dzmare' (pronounced like Modern Armenian, according to the guide in the back of the book). The Teixcalaan names are rendered in English, with English phonology just like the phonology of the rest of the prose. This means that they stick out less than the Stationer names, even though those Stationer names are from the PoV culture of the novel (Mahit's). This is subtle and chiefly aesthetic (and therefore subjective) and whilst I debated including it here, I think it is genuinely present and has important consequences.
The translation of Teixcalaanli names could be explained as an editorial decision to make the novel easier to read and reduce the amount of alien phonology you are forced to contend with. I do not think this is the case. Since many other SFF novels include names from fictional languages which are far less easy to pronounce than Teixcalaan, and far less important to their novels. I think the translation is deliberate and done for an effect.
Additionally, choices are made to translate or not to translate various Teixcalaanli words, introducing an element of fictive multilingualism to the novel [2]. All of the fictional loanwords are from Teixcalaan into English, never loaned from Stationer. This assimilates the Teixcalaanlim's language and viewpoint into the prose of the novel.
I think the aim here is to put us in the Teixcalaanli point of view. To immerse us in their language and their culture Martine embeds it into the prose of the novel. She does this by translating names (individuals) to stand out less, whilst she also keeps certain words in their original Teixcalaan to ensure parts of the alien culture are preserved in their entirety.
(Note: I can undermine my entire analysis here by considering the meta-fictional aspect of who this story is being told to in universe. Is A Memory Called Emprie written by Mahit about her experiences for a Teixcalaanli audience, or a Stationer one (in Stationer)? If the former, the translation of Teixcalaanli names preserves their relative foreigness to the rest of the prose in the 'original' and loanwords are simply untranslated because there is no English equivalent, whereas if the latter were true, the translation of Teixcalaanli names is to make them easier for a Stationer audience to read and the loanwords are for things that Stationers don't have. I don't know, and I don't think this novel is trying to be a word of meta-fiction like that.)
Poetics and gatekeeping
Teixcalaanli culture is heavily literary and referential. Mahit's first experience in the city (the world, the empire), is having a poem called 'The Buildings' orated to her by Three Seagrass as they drive amongst them. It's an effective first scene in the novel, establishing two key things: the importance of the city of Teixcalaan, the setting, and the Teixcalaanli imagination and literary culture.
Although the novel contains very few actual examples of Teixcalaanli poetry (and sadly none in Teixcalaan), poetry is nonetheless highly important to the aesthetic of Teixcalaan that Martine establishes. Key scenes of the novel are all centered around poetry: this inital introduction, the poetry contest and Three Seagrass' poem calling for aid (that sequence was amazing to read). She consistently mentions how a character's language is deliberately archaic and/or poetic and how Mahit notices and feels about this.
Not only is poetry important to the aesthetic of Teixcalaan, but it efficiently does the work of assimilation and alienation because it is a heightened form (and here literally an arena) of language. In poetry, language is always deliberate [3] and it is harder to understand and speak than the vernacular. Proficiency takes time and effort and privilage to acquire.
And so we return to alienationd and assimilation. Martine making poetry so important pushes the way language is used to the fore. Proficiency becomes necessary to engaging with Teixcalaan and a foreigner being good at poetry is an indication of assimilation. Being unable to engage with the poetic tradition of Teixcalaan alienates someone's from the formal Teixcalaan society Mahit finds herself in. Most interestingly, the plot of the novel literally wouldn't progress if Mahit didn't speak Teixcalaan so brilliantly, not that that stops her from feeling like a perpetual outsider. This results in alienation, which is described to us, when she feels cut off from others via the language barrier (a barrier that becomes yet higher in poetry).
Additionally, poetical allusion makes its way into the ordinary dialogue of characters, normally comunicated to the reader via a comment from Mahit, whose unique role as translator we shall consider next.
Mahit the translator
The above features would be, and usually are, subtextual. A Memory is exceptional in that the PoV character comments on these effects, not in a metatextual way, but because as the forces of language play out before her, she notices.
Mahit wants very much to be accepted, to assimilate, to be able to participate in rather than consume the literary culture for two reasons. Firstly, she is enamoured of Teixcalaan and Teixcalaanli culture, she loves the poetry and the stories and the intrigue and the language, we are reminded of this repeatedly as the reality butts up against the fiction, at the end of the day she is a fan. Secondly, she needs to be good at everyhing I described in the poetry section because her job is contingent on it. Only by being sufficiently Teixcalaan - whilst also sufficiently barbaric - can she prevent the empire from annexing her home system.
These two motivations are contradictory. If Mahit indulges her affection for Teixcalaan, she risks becoming too Teixcalaan to care and may well betray her station resulting in its annexation. Indeed, she does, she hands over state secrets to multiple Teixcalaanlim because she likes them (not without internal conflict) or because they might serve her goal, but the former reason is the more important here. Secondly, if she weren't so enamoured by Teixcalaan, she'd be a much worse diplomat for it. This tension is the central tension of the novel.
Because Mahit is the PoV character, and because we have her feelings described to us, we know when she feels alienated - deliberately or not - and when she is feeling intoxicated by the Teixcalaanli story, pines for assimilation, wishes she could have been born in the empire. Because Mahit is also a translator she is aware of the things Martine is doing with language when she puts words into other character's mouths; she is aware of the importance of poetry, of all these things I detailed above and they show up in her thoughts and feelings which we get through the close third narration.
This is especially effective when the reader is in a similar position, and not just due to that close third. Most readers read a piece of SFF there is at least one way in which we like the setting and wish it were real. This could be something as simple as wanting a cool/useful technology (spaceships please) or some other aspect (8 distinct neopronouns for various situations) that we wish we could incorporate into the real world. Maybe we like the idea of infofiche sticks so much we name a blog after them. But we also recognise the issues with the setting, becuase we are generally intelligent and not horrible people who understand the issues with empire and colonialism and the expansionist militaries that are a backdrop to much SFF.
The key tension in the novel, that between Mahit's genuine xenophilia towards Teixcalaan whilst knowing that it can and will destroy her home station, is reflected in the reader similarily. We know Teixcalaan is bad in that it is a galaxy spanning empire that has removed the independence of its countless component systems through various oppressions and that has an expansionist military policy. On the other hand, it's so cool whilst it does so: it has amazing imagery! Romantic heroes! A vast tradition of mythology! An informed electorate! Gender equality! Spaceships!
This tension plays out in Mahit as she variously feels assimilated into (does poetry ciphers, eats the food, makes friends) and alienated by (is too tall, can't do poetry perfectly, friends notice her alienness) Teixcalaan. The emotional beats of this are described, punctuating key scenes in the novel, and layered onto the readers own experience of the interplay between those two things - alienation and assimilation. The worldbuilding feature of language is elevated to a the method by which these forces appear via the use of fictive multilingualism, the heightened arena of poetry, and Mahit's own consciousness of the language and these effects [4].
It also delivers this emotional experience to the reader in the midst of a beautifully described and enthralling space opera mystery. This is why the novel is so awesome, why it inspired me to start a blog, and why I will be returning to it for countless years to come.
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