Into Culture: Lingua Communis III

At the start of this month I began reading ‘Babel: an arcane history’ by R.F. Kuang. This book is a fictional history set in Oxford in the early 19th century. It follows the story of a young Chinese orphan, later known as Robin Swift, who is adopted by a linguistic professor who works for Babel: ‘Oxford University’s prestigious Royal Institute of Translation’. It is also a work of fantasy as the centre of Babel’s work is ‘silver-working’. In the reality of the book, silver holds magical properties when used by translators and the British Empire is powered by it. 

Silver is used by etching pairs of words that are translations of each other; one English, the other another language. The magic is derived from what gets lost in translation. The first example given is the pairing of karabos, in Greek, and caravel; both mean ‘ship’ but karabos also means crab or beetle. When the silver bar with these two words etched on them are put on boats the fishermen catch more fish due to the magic association of crabs/sea creature… you really need to read the book to fully grasp how this ‘works’.

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Babel is a great story full of intrigue and excitement but what has struck me is its exploration of language across cultural divides and the role translation has played in empire. This is something that I am continually reflecting on in my role, particularly when trying to create spaces for many nations and tongues to come together in worship. I did this at our recent international Christmas event where we shared Christmas traditions from around the world. I wanted to make the event as accessible as possible to those who did not speak English and so began work on translating the service booklets to help guide those of different languages through our time together. Although we had limited, non-English speakers, those who came appreciated the effort we had put in to producing as many variety of translations as possible. 

The process of creating these translations brought up fascinating conversations with those who were helping me along the way. This was particularly the case when I was trying to get a metric translation of ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ and ‘Hark the Herald Angel Sings’. I wanted to have a moment when everyone was singing to the same tune but in their own language. I had experienced this when worshipping with my Urdu speaking friends at their Christmas service. They had Urdu words being sung to the traditional tunes for these two songs. I then found versions in various other languages, e.g. French (for D.R.C.), Arabic, Farsi, etc. This raised an important question: in choosing the words, was it more important to get the meaning close or the meter right?

This question reminded me of the reflections I have had about writing theology within the structure of metric poetry. There is the same tension when selecting words and phrases to express a theological/spiritual truth when there are restrictions on syllables and rhymes. Babel explores this tension and pitches the alternative arguments really well.

But this is not necessarily the thing that I want to explore this month.

Here is a quote from the leading professor, Professor Playfair, in the fictional institute of Babel as he introduces the first year students to their work and studies.

“It is often argued that the greatest tragedy of the Old Testament was not man’s exile from the Garden of Eden, but the fall of the Tower of Babel. For Adam and Eve, though cast from grace, could still speak and comprehend the language of angels. But when men in their hubris decided to build a path to heaven, God confounded their understanding. He divided and confused them and scattered them about the face of the earth.

What was lost at Babel was not merely human unity, but the original language – something primordial and innate, perfectly understandable and lacking nothing in form or content. Biblical scholars call it the Adamic language. Some think it is Hebrew. Some think it is a real and ancient language that has been lost to time. Some think it is a new, artificial language that we ought to invent. Some think French fulfils this role, some think English, once it’s finished robbing and morphing, might.”

R.F. Kuang, ‘Babel: An Arcane History’ (London:Harper Collins, 2022) p.107

Later in the story Robin, the main protagonist, is with his guardian, Professor Lovell, discussing this idea. Professor Lovell believes this notion is ‘poppycock’ but not before he recalls the account in Herodotus’ ‘The Histories’ (Part 1, Book 2, paragraph 2) where the historian tells a story of the Egyptian Pharaoh Psammetichus I. In order to assess the innateness of speech in humans, Psammetichus I performed an experiment on two infants who were placed in a remote place by a shepherd who was not allowed to speak in their presence. After two years, the children began to speak and they repeated the word becos, which turned out to be the Phrygian word for bread. This proved, in Psammetichus’ mind, that Phyrgian was the innate language of humanity.

This story, according to the fictional character of Professor Lovell, is totally fabricated and similar experiments done elsewhere would provide different results. I agree with this view but it is interesting to ponder the nature of language and what is the truth in the Genesis story of the Tower of Babel. Is there an Adamic language? What are the implications of the limits of translation in diplomacy and ultimate unity across linguistic divides? Robin Swift extrapolates from Professor Playfair’s concept of an Adamic language.

Well – since in the Bible, God split mankind apart. And I wonder if – if the purpose of translation, then, is to bring mankind back together. If we translate to – I don’t know, bring about that paradise again, on earth, between nations.

To which Professor Playfair enigmatically responds.

Well, of course. Such is the project of empire – and why, therefore, we translate at the pleasure of the Crown.

I have been pondering the concept of a lingua communis since April last year. This is not some lexical holy grail as is pondered by Professor Playfair in Babel but rather the search for an intercultural process of understanding. At the heart of my reflections is a desire to find a meaningful, tangible and, hopefully, effective approach to unity across difference. Language will play a significant role, even if it only is at the start of any process. There is, however, profound limitations on linguistics and translations, as I am exploring further in my reading of Babel. 

The biblical solution to the tragedy of the Tower of Babel is not some man-made process of linguistic homogeny but rather a spiritual antidote which in many ways bypasses the lexical limitations. It is telling, in the narrative of Kuang’s Babel, that Professor Playfair’s assumed response to the punishment by God for humanity’s hubris is more hubris; thinking that we can translate our way out of the ‘curse of God’ (Kuang, ‘Babel’, p.108).

At Pentecost, God gives the solution to the confusion of Babel. The Holy Spirit enables all to understand other languages. What this looked and felt may feel lost to history but I believe that the same Holy Spirit is alive and active today. The process for unity of heart and mind must start, not in my attempts to translate my way out of the ‘curse of God’, but to humble myself in his presence and to seek understanding that transcends linguistic differences.

Our experience at the International Christmas event at Bradford Cathedral was that there was something uniting about singing together even though we did so in different languages. There is something profound about music being a form of universal language. As I regularly sit in choral evensong, listening to the anthem and encouraging the congregation to engage in it, it is often the music rather than the words that I point them to.

There remains an area of future research for me. It is the area of cultural unity. I have always been profoundly aware of the impact of a lack of shared socio-cultural narratives. Read any of my posts over the years I have been writing and you will find them shot through with this ‘Hauerwasian’ problem. As I prepare my talk on racial justice for the upcoming Anglican Network of intercultural Churches Conference, I return to this intellectual landscape again and again.

I encourage you to read Babel… I just need to find time to finish it!