She Listens and Attempts to Understand - On Language Acquisition in Times of War by Natasha S.

The book describes a new reality and the search for a new sense of self. The previous self having become suddenly invalid. Thus spoke the poet when receiving the Tómas Guðmundsson Literary Award on October 17th of this year. Natasha S.’s poetry book is not only newsworthy, though her previous work has in fact been (Natasha was the editor of the poem collection Polyphony of Foreign Origin which has been described as the beginning of immigrant literature in Iceland), its contents are notable because of their vast and spacious nature. It feels only logical that Natasha be the first author of foreign origin to receive the aforementioned award. Once I got wind of who took the award home this year, I literally squealed with happiness.

How lucky we are to have people who not only write and create art using our obscure language, but want to do so - that they take the time to learn it and find their voice within it. Language Acquisition in Times of War gives us insight into the mind of someone who watches their country’s militarization from afar, and the subsequent invasion of a neighbouring country. The book touches on shame, sorrow and rejection, the sudden death of one’s self and rebirth through a new identity. The book is divided into four parts: To talk — To write — To listen — To understand.

At first glance, the book could very well be an interpretation of children’s language acquisition, but a closer look reveals a multifaceted meaning. The narrator’s language acquisition took place in a homeland where the definition of war is entangled with heroism, and memorials of this entanglement are prominent in the narrator’s environment. Children are like sponges, they absorb words and meaning, and if war is at the forefront of society it inevitably makes its mark on a child’s language acquisition and vocabulary. Natasha’s poems reflect this with their layered interpretations and homographs. Our narrator paints a picture of lovers enjoying a date while war is imminent, and chooses a word which invites the reader to interpret it as harmless, að stríða (to pick on):

he picked on me

I laughed (7)

The remarkable connection between languages is also present within the book, such as the word family in Ukrainian, which means fatherland in Russian. One wonders whether these observations are especially evident to those who write poetry in a language other than their native tongue. The poem which marks the end of the book’s first part is as follows:

before I got hurt

I was a bookseller

like my father

then I walked using crutches

and became a writer

then war began

I started to walk

the door behind me

closed (24)

One could argue that this verse includes a reference to children’s language acquisition, which is generally considered to end around the time a child reaches sexual maturity. The poem’s door closes, which could be interpreted as the end of language development. Learning a new language, during childhood or as an adult, involves introducing a new way of thinking - new pathways in the brain. Rebirth, in a way.

The aspect of language acquisition in this poem can also be seen as another form of language - poetic language. The poem expresses an ideology - writing poetry in a language equals acquiring itmaking it one’s own. It also expresses a point of no return - once you become a poet, there’s no going back.

The post card-like layout and design of the book, as well as the prominent theme of travelling words allow the reader to look through a window to the past, by reading letters between a daughter and her father among other things. In the very beginning of the book, the narrator writes themselves a letter - a message which they then receive at the very end. Postcards have the unique ability to travel across borders, they’re words which pass between nations - much like literature.

don’t forget

to breathe

go on walks

write

take care of yourself

and others

In the fourth and last part of the book, we’re met with a lack of words as the book concludes with three empty pages - perhaps to give the reader the opportunity to add their own interpretation, and thus make sense of their own stance. These three empty pages can both be interpreted as a space for the reader to add their own poetry - or to simply grasp and digest what came before them, which requires no words.