To Speak a Second Language Is to Have a Second Soul

Let a polyglot explain to you why

“To have a second language is to have a second soul,” famously said Charlemagne. As a polyglot who has studied almost ten different languages, including, but not limited to: English, Latin, French, German, Italian, Russian, and Ancient Greek, let me explain why I wholeheartedly agree with this statement.

Every language is a microcosm. A universe waiting to be explored. And no matter how simple you believe the language to be, it will take you years to truly master it and to understand the depths of its vocabulary, the slightest nuances of meaning, the many phonetic quirks, and all the complex richness that each language carries within itself. It will take you years to learn to use that language in the same organic, melodic way that a musician uses their instrument to compose music. And just like a musician learns to master their instrument, the technicalities of the craft might be incredibly frustrating, but the moment you finally get there, you’ll find yourself irreversibly in love with your instrument and its power.

Every language is a microcosm. A universe waiting to be explored.

Every existing language is intrinsically linked to one culture. And, in the case of widely spread languages such as English, it is not just one culture, but a variety of cultures that can be drastically different from each other: American culture is, needless to say, extremely different from British culture, or Australian culture, or Jamaican culture, or South African culture. Similarly, European Spanish culture is immensely different from, let’s say, Mexican or Colombian culture.

This means that whenever you learn one language you end up assimilating another culture, whether you want it or not. Language and culture are inextricable.

I believe that mastering a language is a gift, because that understanding will unlock an entire, previously unknown world to you. Remember the old adage about expanding your horizons? It’s true. The moment you begin to understand a different culture you learn two fundamental things: number one, you learn all the ways that this new world differs from your old one(s), and, number two, you learn that, underneath those superficial differences, it is not that different after all. A change in consciousness and awareness is at once inevitable and necessary.

I regularly navigate the microcosms of the English, Italian and Russian languages. I do so more or less freely. Mastering one language is hard enough. To master two or more requires dedication that “YouTube prodigies” who claim to be fluent in seven or more languages hardly know of, especially when the languages you do master belong to different linguistic branches (Germanic, Romance, and Slavic, in my case).

Whenever I cross the threshold of one linguistic universe, I know what culture awaits me. I know what the people who know that culture and carry it within themselves as their own are like. When we speak the language we both share, there is more than a simple linguistic exchange going on. There is a sense of familiarity, of closeness, of camaraderie. You are communicating via a vernacular that, depending on how widespread that specific language is, will be more or less exclusive to the two of you. It’s — pardon the platitude — your secret language.

People who speak more than one language fluently will be familiar with the sight of one person’s eyes suddenly lightening up when they realize that you speak their mother tongue. And it is a beautiful sight. People instantly warm up to you because they know you have an understanding of them that others, who do not speak that language and are not familiar with the culture associated with it, can’t have. And if they learn that this is not your native tongue but that, instead, you learned it as an adult and kept practicing it until you became fluent, then another, beautiful feeling sets in: the person is genuinely humbled by the effort, time, and passion that you put into this learning process.

Why?

Because mastering a language always requires you to honor its culture. It is with humility and awe that you approach this process. You are aware that you have so much to learn, that you must not judge — lest thou be judged yourself — and that once you are over with this gargantuan enterprise, you will possess a gift that few others share: to be a living, physical bridge in between two cultures.

Mastering a language always requires you to honor its culture.

This brings me to my next point: the forgotten art of translation.

I firmly believe that, in today’s society, translators and interpreters don’t receive half the credit they deserve as mediators of culture. This is another task that requires humility, respect, and awe. The translator takes it upon themselves not only to convey meaning from one language to another but also to express it in the best possible way: a way that maintains the same nuances of meaning as the original language while being “wrapped” in a form that respects the second language’s expressive style and colloquial norms. They also take it upon themselves to explain minor or major cultural differences when they do arise in a text or speech. In other words, the translator is that human bridge whose absence would otherwise make it impossible for people to connect, understand, value, and truly see each other. And from this most valuable process, the art of translation is born.

The translator is that human bridge whose absence would otherwise make it impossible for people to connect, understand, value, and truly see each other.

The duality of the polyglot’s soul emerges from the many cultural identities that they end up being the living vessel of, and to think that this knowledge is purely theoretical and has no long-lasting effect on the psyche and inner world of the polyglot is a foolish assumption. One cannot dedicate themselves to the study of languages without a deep love for the many languages and cultures they encounter along the path. Even the long, painstaking process of going through numerous and often arbitrary grammar rules, conjugations, declensions, endless memorizing, practicing, and mistake-making, even that is something that the true polyglot cherishes.

The process of mastering another language is really that of embracing another culture. No one can remain unchanged by such a process. You will have a second soul. You may end up having several different ones. The deeper the understanding, the richer the experience. And this communion of souls does not breed conflict, because, by virtue of its own nature, it breeds understanding. It breeds respect. Humility. Admiration. And love.

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