Who am I?/ Moi, c’est qui? - by Guestblogger Matthew G.

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Matthew G., a regular commenter on Fusion View, wrote this in response to Jennifer’s comment to my podcast Two Voices (which I highlighted in my comment round-up Chop Suey). What he says intrigued me so I thought I would share his comment more widely by giving it a post-space all to itself.

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Matthew writes:

I am native English speaking with Japanese as second language and French as third (measured just by proficiency). I have exactly that sense that she mentions of adopting a slightly different persona especially when in Japanese and I do wonder about it sometimes (” is it real me, who am I etc”). Occasionally my British work colleagues have commented (not unfavourably, though) that I look like a somewhat different person when I am talking to a Japanese colleague in Japanese (though they don’t understand what we are talking about). But I don’t think it is about being some kind of chameleon with no “true” core. If that is how you express yourself in a certain linguistic context then it is from within, so it must part of you. I think it just goes to show that language and communication is not just about the spoken word.

It is often said that the ear is more important than the tongue. I would add that a “sense of immitation” is also the essential ingredient for a successful linguist. Every language is rooted in a context of cultural and social patterns / values and this is probably all the more so between say European and Asian languages (eg honorifics). So it should be no surprise that operating successfully across this linguistic divide involves more than just words. This leads into the bowing debate. Have you ever tried having a discussion (eg mutual thanks after an enjoyable business dinner) when your guest bows to you? It’s so difficult not to feel like bowing back! (or is that just me?) Many times I succumbed but I resist it now having seen so many westerners trying to bow and we are just not good at it! Get in with a handshake first! This is a bit off the subject but we all know how different English can sound according to who is speaking it (eg a Glaswegian versus a Home Counties type).

But how voluntary is our default accent or “presentation” in each of us? How easily can the Glaswegian sound like the HC type if he tries (not that he would want to)? I believe most people find it very difficult to immitate. In the Japanese case the difference between “standard” Tokyo type Japanese and, say, the Osaka dialect is huge, not just an accent but very often different words, verb endings etc. Yet I am always amazed to hear how easily the Osaka types for example switch into standard Japanese when say they are on the phone to someone in Tokyo. And then switch back without turning a hair when they put the phone down. There’s something different there!

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My thoughts on what Matthew has written above:

What intrigues me is the thought that one is someone different in a different language. I touched on it in my Two Voice podcast - I feel warmer and more exuberant speaking Malaysian English and more formal and verbose in English English. Matthew’s comment makes me think about the existentialist movement and those “who am I?” writers like Camus and the one who wrote the play about the cockroach (”Metamorphosis”). Would Camus’s books have been more devil-may-care if he had been fluent in American English rather than so angst ridden in French? Would the protagonist of Metamorphosis have changed into another kind of creature if the playwright had written in another language?

Body language is also a huge part of communication - some say it’s 90% of the message you are conveying. And I have experienced the “immitation factor” that Matthew mentions. With some French people I used to know, I started adopting the Gallic shrug which involves a shrug of the shoulders, an exhalation of breath through pouty lips to make the sound “boff” or “bouff”, ideally accompanied by the wave of a cigarette. I don’t smoke so a wave of the hand stands in for that part. Anyway, I’ve lost touch with the French friends but I’ve retained the Gallic shrug in my English life. The interesting thing is that I think the Gallic shrug has made me less uptight and worked up about things that I might have been exercised about in the past eg. Old me: “It’s outrageous! How can they do that!” (Slam table and rant); Gallic me: “Boff, what can you do? Let’s just forget about it.” (Languidly pour more wine/ slice more Camembert).