Reading in a Foreign Language

For years in high school and college, we had to read various short stories and novels in my Spanish classes. Some of them (García Márquez's short stories in particular) I loved, don't get me wrong!

But it took me ages to read them. I'd be flipping through my dictionary or free-translating every other word, and struggling through the Spanish phrasing, trying to figure out what the equivalent would be in English every time. For example, the saying "Con el dinero, baila el perro" literally means "With the money, the dog will dance," but the better translation would be "With money, anything is possible."

Between all of those interruptions to google and research my reading, it was pretty hard to get into the flow of the story. While I was studying abroad in Barcelona, I tried to read one of my host mom's funny novels to practice my language skills. But I just wound up completely confused by page two -- there was way too much word-play going on for me to follow in another language.

Then a few days ago, while hovering around The Strand waiting for my writer's group meeting to start, I found myself in the foreign language section. I picked up a book with an author I recognized and love -- Paulo Coelho. He writes in Portuguese, so this was a translation, but I know I like his stories. Plus his style wasn't too complex (love to Borges, but try and read his stuff en español... oh gawd).

I picked it up and read the first page.

Without easy access to a dictionary or my usual translation websites, I couldn't stop when I hit a word I didn't know. I just had to use the context of the sentence to figure it out. After a few minutes passed, I realized I'd made it three pages in without pausing, even for the potentially confusing metaphors. Because I'd finally stopped translating every word to English. I just started thinking in Spanish while I read.

Wow. That's the problem I'd been having all along! It's like learning to read all over again. Back in grade school the big words still confused me, but I drove through them, eager to devour the story rather than decipher every nuance within it.

I'm still not too far into the novel, even though it's been a few days. Had I been reading the English version, I'd probably be finished by now. But that's okay. I'm learning. And maybe I won't be able to devour Cien Años de Soledad right away, but that's okay too. Reading in any language takes practice. I'm just glad to finally be enjoying the practice!*

*Apologies to any of my Spanish profesoras who might be reading this. They taught me well -- I was just too impatient to stick with it yet!