A Great Author’s Ongoing Struggle
In the latest edition of *The Atlantic*’s Books Briefing, the editors reflect on the profound impact that language learning and mastery can have on writers and their creations. Highlighting the work of Vladimir Nabokov, particularly his unfinished novel *The Original of Laura*, the piece emphasizes how Nabokov’s struggle with English—despite being a celebrated author—reveals the complexities of cross-cultural expression. Nabokov, who transitioned from writing in Russian to English, faced challenges that shaped his distinctive literary voice. The author’s ongoing battle with language, exemplified by his difficulty in spelling “bicycle,” serves as a reminder that even the most celebrated writers grapple with the nuances of language, which can lead to richer, more original works. This perspective is echoed in Ross Benjamin’s recent essay in *The Atlantic*, where he discusses the potential pitfalls of instant translation technologies, such as AI-driven translation devices, which could diminish the depth of cultural exchange and the personal growth that comes from learning a new language.
Benjamin argues that while instant translation may seem convenient, it risks eroding the very essence of what makes language learning valuable: the humility, curiosity, and mental recalibration that accompany navigating a foreign tongue. He points out that the unique characters created by Nabokov, such as the quirky professor in *Pnin* and the troubled Humbert Humbert from *Lolita*, owe their existence to the author’s own struggles with language. These characters embody the immigrant experience and the challenges of cultural adaptation, illustrating how language barriers can lead to profound storytelling. Moreover, Benjamin warns that the rise of AI translation could lead to a decline in the number of Americans learning second languages, potentially stifling the rich tapestry of cultural interactions that come from personal language acquisition.
In a world increasingly reliant on technology for communication, the article emphasizes the importance of preserving the art of language learning. It suggests that the richness of human experience—reflected in literature, character development, and personal growth—may be diminished if we allow machines to do the heavy lifting in translation. The discussion serves as a call to appreciate the beauty and complexity of language, encouraging readers to engage deeply with the challenges and rewards of learning new languages, just as Nabokov did. This nuanced exploration of language and its implications for creativity and cultural understanding offers a thought-provoking perspective for writers and readers alike.
This is an edition of the Books Briefing, our editors’ weekly guide to the best in books.
Sometimes the smallest detail can change the way you think about the world. This happened to me in 2009, when I read
The Original of Laura
—which consists of unedited fragments of Vladimir Nabokov’s unfinished last novel—and noticed that, after 35 years of writing in English, the author had still struggled to spell
bicycle
. I had imagined Nabokov’s leap away from Russian, his native language, as an instantaneous, effortless transformation, but now I realized that it must have been an ongoing struggle—one that enhanced his dazzlingly precise fiction. I thought back to this moment when I read
Ross Benjamin’s article
in
The Atlantic
this week, about the “humbling and unexpectedly exhilarating” process of learning a new language.
First, here are five new stories from
The Atlantic
’s Books section:
What a cranky new book about progress gets right
When scarcity blurs the line between right and wrong
“We Are Not One,” a story by George Packer
“Love Song to a Tune of Gathering,” a poem by Carson Colenbaugh
The accidental trailblazers of a new global condition
In his essay, Benjamin, who has translated Franz Kafka’s diaries and other major German-language works into English, tallies up the potential costs of a world in which AirPods can translate between languages in real time. For example: AI translation might accelerate the trend of fewer Americans learning second languages outside the home. One in five U.S. households, however, does speak another language
inside
the home—and mine was among them. As an aspiring writer with Russian-speaking parents, I was determined from a young age to master English. This is one reason I so admired Nabokov, who wrote 10 excellent books in Russian and then, after fleeing Europe for the United States, nine arguably better ones in English. (He also
wrote a poem for
The Atlantic
in 1941
about switching languages.) Who, after reading
Lolita
or
Pale Fire
,
would assume that the author spoke English with a foreign accent?
And yet, what made me a near Nabokov completist was not that his English was perfectly assimilated but rather that it was strange and original. Instead of falling back on clichéd idioms, as a native speaker might have done, he pinned down rare and delicate words like the butterflies he collected, and then reassembled them in novel ways. I think he would have liked Benjamin’s description of his own translation work: “Spending my days in the space between English and German has given me a deep appreciation for what’s required to cross a linguistic divide: the mental recalibration, the negotiation between different ways of structuring the world, the humility and curiosity that come with navigating a foreign context.”
Some of Nabokov’s most memorable characters are immigrants struggling greatly with the linguistic and cultural adjustments required of them. I don’t believe that the clumsy, eponymous professor of
Pnin
, the pedophilic Humbert Humbert of
Lolita
, or
Pale Fire
’s mad exile, Charles Kinbote, would have existed if not for the language barrier their creator worked so hard to overcome. Benjamin named several potential casualties of an instant-translation society, including the “inconspicuous yet indispensable” interpreters who have helped connect the world. To this list, I might add misfits like Nabokov, who, in wrestling with a new language, made it noticeably richer.
Illustration by Ben Kothe / The Atlantic
The Costs of Instant Translation
By Ross Benjamin
AI might soon rob us of the thrill and challenge of cross-cultural conversation.
Read the full article.
What to Read
The Story of Ferdinand
, by Munro Leaf; illustrated by Robert Lawson
The plot of
Ferdinand
is deceptively simple: A bull who wants only to sit quietly under a tree is mistaken for a fierce beast and sent to a bullfight. There, he refuses combat, instead smelling the flowers in the ring. The tale may seem like a classic misfit story about a boy who doesn’t fit in with his head-butting peers. But unlike many other literary outcasts, Ferdinand is never ashamed to be different; he remains peaceful in a violent world. That was a divisive message when the book was published, with the Spanish Civil War under way and World War II approaching. Critics called
Ferdinand
communist, fascist, pacifist (as well as anti-pacifist), and emasculating; Adolf Hitler banned it for being “degenerate democratic propaganda.” Today, as many warn of a crisis of masculinity, Ferdinand’s unwavering gentleness feels refreshing. Leaf writes that the bull resisted fighting “no matter what they did”—a level of fortitude that may inspire children, even if some adults are more cynical. —
Kate Cray
From our list: 65 essential children’s books
Out Next Week
📚
The Pelican Child: Stories
, by Joy Williams
📚
Blank Space: A Cultural History of the Twenty-First Century
, by W. David Marx
📚
Languages of Home: Essays on Writing, Hoop, and American Lives 1975–2025
, by John Edgar Wideman
Your Weekend Read
Karen Espersen with ostriches at her farm in the mountains of Canada’s West Kootenay Alana Paterson for The Atlantic
The Great Canadian Ostrich Standoff
By Daniel Engber
The activists had been camping out for months; their numbers sometimes reached into the hundreds. They knew the government was saying that the ostriches had bird flu, but they were convinced that this was cover for some other, bigger scheme. The feds were conspiring with the United Nations and Big Pharma, they said. Small farmers’ rights were being trampled. But Dave and Karen’s birds had other, more powerful friends. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. was making calls to Canadian officials; Dr. Oz had offered to evacuate the ostriches to his ranch in Florida.
Read the full article.
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This article previously included Robert Wright’s
The God Test
in “Out Next Week.” The release of
The God Test
has been postponed until 2026.
