As I close the book “The Illiterate” by Ágota Kristóf
Jean J. Lee
This short memoir of the Hungarian writer Ágota Kristóf titled “The Illiterate” has stolen my heart and soul. Reading the author’s life story, which was full of passion to read and write, I came to realize it could be all our stories. We all have our own mother languages through which we truly define ourselves, create and elaborate our thoughts, reinforce our faith or beliefs, discuss, argue, complain, pray, and above all, to show your love. Then, one day, if life’s journey or destiny happens to take us to some place where our mother tongue is not in use for any reasons that we could wholeheartedly accept or never understand, the world we used to have naturally belonged to is forced to get ready for a drastic change. A handful of exciting days sporadically hidden in the midst of vast, open sea of a new language and culture. Grandparents or parents in the immigrant families feel themselves like the illiterate. They could hardly understand or make themselves understood in the new target language in someone’s else’s land.
The author of this book describes her own frustrating circumstance
(of a refugee working at a watch manufacturing factory in Switzerland) as a “desert”….”a
social desert”…”a cultural desert”. Even everyone there in the beautiful
country was warm, kind and smiley to her, she felt the days without
understandable words to read or write by herself were dismal and frozen. She
decided to begin her battle to conquer the new language (i.e., French) to bear
the pain of separation and write about her anger, sorrow, and frustration.
Although I am nobody, I was able to relate to what Agota
Kristof meant to say in this book. She says “Naturally, you must write. Then,
you must continue to write. Even when it doesn’t interest anyone. Even when you
feel that it will never interest anyone.”
Today, it is difficult to find people who are truly all
ears to what you say and write. Politicians or polemics are no the exceptions. They
just speak and impose their opinions in others. They even mute artists by their
own language and culture. Are they speaking your language? If so, do you understand
what they mean? If not, would you be willing to learn their language and catch
their intentions well-equipped with a grand scheme of hidden agenda?
No matter where you are or what you do, your life would
never be empty as long as you continue to read and write your heart with “patience
and obstinance” even if no one is interested in your words.
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