As the weather turns colder and exams draw nearer, students on Grounds are increasingly unable to wrench themselves away from their course reading materials. For those literary-inclined students who miss having the time to read what they choose, it is almost time to curl up in a cozy armchair at home with a hot cup of tea and a story selected solely for pleasure. Students that are swimming in assignments may be itching to get away — and the residents of the University’s Language Houses know that there is no better form of escapism than a story that journeys across both national and linguistic borders.
The Language Houses at the University — The French House, or La Maison Française, The Spanish House, or Casa Bolívar, and Shea House — are small residence halls targeted towards students looking to expand their knowledge of foreign languages and cultures through daily immersion. In light of the intimate familiarity that these Language House residents have with languages and cultures outside of English and the U.S., they serve as the perfect sources for foreign-language literature recommendations.
The following three works of international fiction — all originally written in languages other than English and set in countries other than the United States — are the perfect getaway for students looking to put the semester behind them and perhaps explore new and exciting worlds far from the University.
“Marina” by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, translated by Lucia Graves
Recommended by Trey Riley, second-year College student and resident of the Spanish House, the 1999 young adult novel “Marina” by Carlos Ruiz Zafón is an eerie ghost story that takes place in Barcelona. Sent away to boarding school, the young protagonist Oscar becomes deeply embroiled in the supernatural after meeting the alluring Marina. She brings him to see a graveyard where they see a strange woman who visits the cemetery often. The two decide to follow the mystifying woman — as the story develops, Oscar and Marina attempt to untangle an increasingly complex web of mystery and horror surrounding the strange creatures and characters they encounter across the city.
Riley said he picked up the book for its brevity — clocking in at under 300 pages — when he was first starting to read in Spanish, the language he began studying before coming to the University. Although the novel is not as well-known as Zafón’s “The Shadow of the Wind,” Riley remembers it as his favorite for its unique meshing of the strange and the beautiful.
“It talks a lot about loss … It’s spooky, but it also has really beautiful descriptions,” Riley said. “It checks all the boxes!”
A student of linguistics with a particular interest in translation, Riley said he finds a great deal of value in examining the inherent differences and sacrifices that arise when a work is translated from one language to another — that is to say, what gets “lost in translation.”
“When you are translating something, you have to make choices,” Riley said. “Whether you like it or not, as a translator the translation is your own work — it’s not the author’s original. There ends up being differences … Something might not feel the same.”
The English edition of “Marina” encapsulates these linguistic tensions that arise when a work is translated from one language to another, but the novel itself is still an intriguing marriage of genre and theme, bridging the truth of history and memory with the uncanny of haunted houses and monsters. The result is a gripping story that is both unnerving and somehow delightful — the perfect book to devour in a single sitting.
“Fear and Trembling” by Amélie Nothomb, translated by Adriana Hunter
Also published in 1999, “Fear and Trembling,” or “Stupeur et tremblements,” is a satiric examination of transnationalism in the contemporary world. Its author, Amélie Nothomb, is a Belgian Francophone author who spent a significant portion of her childhood living in Asia. Her life experience is mirrored in her heroine — also named Amélie — who returns to her childhood home of Japan after living in Belgium and struggles to climb the corporate ladder. Told in a series of comic episodes, the novel wittily unpicks cultural differences between East Asia and Europe.
Céleste Wetmore, second-year College student and resident of the French House, recommended the novel for its clever depictions of belonging and otherness.
“It was an interesting comparison, seeing the Eastern norms in terms of the workplace and comparing them to Western views on how people should engage with each other,” Wetmore said.
As someone who studies English literature and hopes to one day put her French skills to use in the diplomatic world, Wetmore said she actively seeks instances of cross-culturation such as the one described in Nothomb’s novel. She cites her desire to broaden her perspective as the impetus for learning a second language.
“I think that language is a productive means through which to study humanity,” Wetmore said. “Learning a new language is absolutely the most valuable thing someone can do to expand their mindset and empathy because it teaches you to think in a new way and helps you understand different people.”
Light in tone but rich in theme, “Fear and Trembling” is a profound exploration of identity that encourages readers to look outward as well as inward, locating themselves within their own culture through the process of understanding another. This novel is perfect for students looking to explore the ins and outs of another culture from the comfort of their own home.
“Hell Screen” by Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, translated by Jay Rubin
Originally published in 1918, the short story “Hell Screen,” or “Jigokuhen,” is a psychological dissection of the interaction between the abstract, creative mind and the material world. It is narrated by the servant to Yoshilde, a renowned artist commissioned with painting a folding screen that depicts images from Buddhist hell. Yoshilde becomes increasingly unsure of his ability to accurately portray what he envisions and devolves into torturing his apprentices, using their pain as models for his work.
Chloe Ross, third-year College student and resident of Shea House, was eager to recommend “Hell Screen” as her favorite short story. Unlike the Spanish or French House which are dedicated to a single language, Shea House is home to half a dozen diverse languages grouped in “pods” and ranging from American Sign Language to Persian. Ross is a member of the Japanese pod and a creative writer herself. She was drawn to Akutagawa Ryūnosuke’s work for its complex treatment of the artistic process.
“It’s a story about the correlation between art and madness, and how the creation of art requires some semblance of insanity,” Ross said. “You’re trying to depict something that’s real onto a stationary format, and that in itself is impossible. That process drives the main protagonist.”
As a double major in Japanese and creative writing who hopes to one day be a professor of Japanese literature, Ross said she appreciates how studying global literature such as “Hell Screen” allows her to cultivate diverse perspectives and draw more profound comparisons between cultures.
“Comparing two books that talk heavily about society and reflecting on that not just in isolation but in comparison allows you to realize more about each work and society than you would have originally,” Ross said.
Japanese is a language completely isolated from English — the two languages share neither alphabet, nor grammar. However, the depiction in “Hell Screen” of the impulse to create is immediately recognizable to anyone in the world who has struggled to express their inner self to the world, making it a story that is at once foreign and familiar to University students finishing the semester.
Perhaps the most powerful aspect of literature is its universalizing capacity. Despite the myriad of linguistic and cultural differences that characterize these works, the themes and life experiences they depict are distinctly and simply human. Whether students are traveling near or far for break, these books allow students to travel anywhere in the globe. Through international literature, readers may be able to step into the global unknown and — within that strangeness — recognize themselves.