From Caracas to London

“If you like bridges, you have to learn languages.” I came across this statement a few days ago, whilst reading Elif Shafak’s The Architect’s Apprentice, and I must confess that I had to pause for a minute to savour it, for it expressed an idea -an association- that had been whirling in my mind for a long time. In the novel by the renowned Turkish-British author, a bookseller in XVI century Istanbul offers this piece of advice to the main character, Jahan, a young apprentice of the Ottoman Empire’s Master Architect, who tells the bookseller that his aspiration in life is to build bridges.

I have always had a fascination with bridges too but, unlike Jahan, whose interest stems from his training as an architect and engineer, my interest in bridges has more to do with their impact on History and, most of all, on what they symbolise. Of course, no one can ignore the functional and aesthetic quality of bridges. Whether made in solid rock, steel or concrete and in the context of luscious nature or bustling cities, bridges are not just beneficial in our day to day lives but are also beautiful and captivating, a true labour of love by those who build them.

But let’s focus on the symbolic nature of bridges.

Having lived in many countries, immersed in different cultures and languages since childhood, Elif Shafak has frequently spoken about the enriching power that learning languages can have in our understanding of the world. I have often wondered, in fact, if it is not a given that people who enjoy writing fiction will invariably have an inclination for languages. What are writers if not “bridges” that articulate and covey messages from their fictional characters to their reading audience? Translators have a similar role and again, it can’t be coincidental that many accomplished authors in the history of Literature have dedicated so much time to translating classics. Take Jorge Luis Borges, for example, a prolific translator of English and German literary works, written by exemplary authors from William Faulkner to Virginia Woolf and from Franz Kafka to Herman Hesse. The literary critic, George Steiner, could not have explained the essential role of the translator better: “without translation, we would be living in provinces bordering on silence.”

In a symbolic sense, bridges are also frequently used as a metaphor for diplomacy. Enemy nations ‘build bridges’ in order to reach agreements that will bring about peace and understanding, while, within nations, political opponents ‘build bridges’ to make constructive decisions for the benefit of the citizens they represent. At present, we seem to be living in societies led by governments that are more inclined to “burn bridges” rather than to build them. As I prepare to start teaching modern languages at a secondary school in September (currently working hard on improving my French and Italian) I realise that this journey that I’m about to embark on is more trascendental than I ever imagined. In our shared hope to promote peace and respect in society, I plan to adapt the advice given to the architect’s apprentice in Shafak’s novel for my future pupils: “If you wish to build bridges and contribute in the improvement of our world, you have to learn languages, travel and put yourselves in other people’s shoes.” Nothing is more enriching than the diverse perspectives that a good bridge, both literally and metaphorically speaking, can facilitate to those willing to expand their horizons and see beyond the limits of their own points of view.