So why English?

Before someone chucks an iron at my head for being unintelligible, I think I should explain myself. Come to think of it, I need not explain myself to anyone but myself, mainly because nobody reads all this, and few would care anyway. I am my greatest critic, and it's hard to face the music sometimes.

So, am I writing this in something other than my own mother tongue, because I'm a traitorous piece of excrement who revels in this globalist decadence we call contemporary society? Or is it because I'm something of a second rate idealistic son of a demi-monde with romantic imperialist sympathies? I could possibly find a third choice, but, in all honesty, there is little else to choose from in the fashionable discourse of our time. Past ideologies obscured and thoroughly cannibalised by contemporary culture provide very little room for any serious venture of this sort outside the scientific field. This has more to do with the afore-implied disregard for the individual than any language barrier.

Thankfully we can always choose to live in a parallel universe (to some extent) and do something utterly unvalued by anyone and which is thus par excellence individualistic. Blogging in English without the specific intent to get across to an international public, and without English being your primary language, is - I think - the closest you can get to the ideal of l'art pour l'art by writing something with little or no literary value. In other words, there's no real point in me writing in English. It does of course have the benefit of providing a means to improve my writing, but that is merely a side-effect. It would be nice though if it convinced some of my friends to do something like this as well. So, there is no specific point. There is however a long and tiresome explanation.

I suppose family influences, schooling and television have all played a major role in this issue, but potential doesn't necessarily turn to action all by itself. If anything, it stagnates and diminishes without proper motivation. Yet -as explained above- nothing would provide reason enough to do this kind of thing, unless we are to take into account a few peculiarities that the broader context of Eastern European reality has to offer, and which consequently elude not only those who have had no experience of this little corner of the world, but most of those who live and breathe here also.

Being born and raised in a country which has a different language to your own makes using multiple languages a fact of everyday life, so acquiring a third one is less hampered by a lack of willingness to use it. In fact, if you are one of those people sensitive to the narrative of an ideologically weighted view of history and implicitly of politics, you might even find using a language which is to some extent alien to the context a welcome escape. It's not that you wouldn't take a stand, or you lack a well argued opinion in the matter. This form of getting away is hardly the reflection of an intellectual longing for the perceived objectivity of a different mindset and a different culture, but rather a delving into the unhindered Self. Yes, it's an escape to the self, to a particular kind of consciousness which grants you a freedom of thought difficult to attain otherwise, by simply using a different language.

The reason for this -as pointed out earlier- is not that any particular language would be more suited to this than the other. In fact, any language is quite suitable for this, as long as it is not used by a native (or someone born into the cultural context of that particular language). The freedom of not fully feeling the weight of the word is -in my opinion- a gift received by those who dare to invest enough time and effort into learning a language and getting to know a culture to some extent, but who are barred from spending at least half their lives within it. We describe our world through language, our words reflect our world, so lighter words mean a bit less weight when carrying the world on your shoulders. It's not like you are totally ignorant of meanings, hints and allusions, you just feel a playfulness less hindered by moral dilemmas, yet capable of expressing a little of the vastness (or nothingness) of existence. A bit like like post-modernism, actually.

Unfortunately all you usually get out of this idea is that the average continental European drops N-bombs in the presence US citizens (ouch), but that is where the years and years of study come into play and polish these particularly rough edges to a nice shine. Then again... the above paragraph is hardly about the average European, or average person for that matter, but I think you get the idea. Speaking a few languages isn't so bad for you, though sometimes it may seem useless. If it doesn't help you with your job, then it might help you with something else... like clearing your mind.

I guess that explains it. The fact that I chose English for my first two posts is -above all else- a matter of personal comfort and preference, the selfish act of a person seeking some peace of mind.