What do you think?
Rate this book
Дзеці Аліндаркі
Героі новага рамана Альгерда Бахарэвіча - беларускамоўныя дзеці, пацыенты загадкавай установы пад назваю Лагер. Як сучасныя Гэнзэль і Грэтэль, яны трапляюць у цёмны лес, дзе іх чакаюць зусім не дзіцячыя прыгоды. Казка, сатыра, антыўтопія - кнігу можна аднесці да кожнага з гэтых жанраў, але яна ўсё роўна застанецца кнігай пра нас, тых, хто жыве тут і цяпер.
256 pages, Paperback
Published December 1, 2014
30 people are currently reading
978 people want to read
About the author
Alhierd Bacharevič
25 books19 followersAlhierd Baharevič is a Belarusian writer and translator. For his first book Практычны дапаможнік па руйнаваньні гарадоў (A practical tool for the destruction of cities) he received the Hlinjany Wjales, the independent book prize in Belarus. He is a winner of Belarusian literary prizes and participant of many international literary festivals. Bacharevic moved to Germany in 2007. In 2013 he returned to Minsk, where he lives now.
Cyrillic profile
Cyrillic profile
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews
March 16, 2021
Longlisted for The Republic of Consciousness Prize for Small Presses
Book 5/10
Alindarka's Children is a novel that I admired more than I enjoyed. Let me explain why.
I cannot discuss this book without mentioning the translation first. I would say it is one of the books where the translation is paramount and it changed the original significantly, so much that it is almost another novel. The original book is written in five languages, namely literary Belarusian, Colloquial Belarusian, Literary Russian, Colloquial Russian and ‘Trasianka’ – a mixed form of speech in which Belarusian and Russian elements and structures alternate arbitrarily. How do you translate that in English? Below is an extract from the Translators’ note and the solution they found
”Broadly, the issue facing the translator is how to make a clear distinction between the original two languages, Russian and Belarusian. Right from the outset I wanted to experiment with English and Scots in a translation of the book. I came to the conclusion that this was the way forward on the basis of the UNESCO Atlas of Endangered Languages, in which both Belarusian and Scots are classified as ‘vulnerable’.
The decision to use both English and Scots and mixing them up creates a whole new book. Adding Scotish folk songs definitely helped creating a different atmosphere.
Language is terribly important in the book because it explores the battle between Belarusian and Russian, a fight which it is very much on going in the writer’s country. People are encouraged to speak Russian and you are considered a lesser being if you use the local language. The novel is set in Belarus where two children are taken in a language camp and from where they are helped to escape by their father and his lover. The kids get lost in the woods and they try to find their way to Bremen. From here emerges a some kind of Hansel & Gretel retelling with elements of Scot folk music, Jewish mythology and magical realism. The book is quite crazy but also clever and original.
I have to admit that I struggled with the translation. Yes, I do not read Scots and it was difficult to jump from one language to the other. Many times I could not guess what was written and all this extra work interfered with the flow of the writing and of the story. The use of folk songs that might mean something for a native and absolutely nothing to me did not help.
About the press (from their Website): Scotland Street Press is a Scottish and International independent publisher of fiction, history, poetry and translation. We have been nominated three times for the Small Press of the Year Award. Our books have been recipients of the ‘PEN translates award’ and two books have been celebrated as ‘WINNER of the English Pen award‘.
Book 5/10
Alindarka's Children is a novel that I admired more than I enjoyed. Let me explain why.
I cannot discuss this book without mentioning the translation first. I would say it is one of the books where the translation is paramount and it changed the original significantly, so much that it is almost another novel. The original book is written in five languages, namely literary Belarusian, Colloquial Belarusian, Literary Russian, Colloquial Russian and ‘Trasianka’ – a mixed form of speech in which Belarusian and Russian elements and structures alternate arbitrarily. How do you translate that in English? Below is an extract from the Translators’ note and the solution they found
”Broadly, the issue facing the translator is how to make a clear distinction between the original two languages, Russian and Belarusian. Right from the outset I wanted to experiment with English and Scots in a translation of the book. I came to the conclusion that this was the way forward on the basis of the UNESCO Atlas of Endangered Languages, in which both Belarusian and Scots are classified as ‘vulnerable’.
The decision to use both English and Scots and mixing them up creates a whole new book. Adding Scotish folk songs definitely helped creating a different atmosphere.
Language is terribly important in the book because it explores the battle between Belarusian and Russian, a fight which it is very much on going in the writer’s country. People are encouraged to speak Russian and you are considered a lesser being if you use the local language. The novel is set in Belarus where two children are taken in a language camp and from where they are helped to escape by their father and his lover. The kids get lost in the woods and they try to find their way to Bremen. From here emerges a some kind of Hansel & Gretel retelling with elements of Scot folk music, Jewish mythology and magical realism. The book is quite crazy but also clever and original.
I have to admit that I struggled with the translation. Yes, I do not read Scots and it was difficult to jump from one language to the other. Many times I could not guess what was written and all this extra work interfered with the flow of the writing and of the story. The use of folk songs that might mean something for a native and absolutely nothing to me did not help.
About the press (from their Website): Scotland Street Press is a Scottish and International independent publisher of fiction, history, poetry and translation. We have been nominated three times for the Small Press of the Year Award. Our books have been recipients of the ‘PEN translates award’ and two books have been celebrated as ‘WINNER of the English Pen award‘.
March 16, 2021
I read this book due to its longlisting for the 2021 Republic of Consciousness Prize.
It is published by a Scotland Street Press - a Scottish and International independent publisher of fiction, history, poetry and translation.
It is a book which can only really be discussed in two parts – the underlying novel and this translation.
The underlying novel, as written by Alhierd Bacharevič is set in his native Belarus and is a dystopian fantasy on a battle for nationalist identity against imperial colonialism carried out with the weapons of language (or of dialect – the very distinction between the two being a key part of the battle), but told through a magic realism like lens drawing both on Hansel and Gretel and on the Jewish folklore of a Golem - all against terrible echoes of the Holocaust.
The story, in brief outline, features a man whose own Belarusian language (in which he takes his sense of identity) is simultaneously suppressed by the Russian-speaking authorities – who regard it as simply an idiots version of classical Russian, while promoted by nationalists who drove his singer wife to suicide as her songs did not conform to their aims for the language.
As a form of secret and long-term resistance he decides to bring up his daughter to speak only Belarus at home, and to simply refuse to speak or even acknowledge the Russian taught at school. As this increasingly antagonises the authorities, his daughter is taken away – together with a son who was moulded for him at about the same time. They end up interned in a language camp (on the site of an old concentration camp) deep in a forest where a Doctor has been given permission to carry out experiments to “cure” extreme cases of Belarus speakers by use of both pills and surgery on a growth he is convinced is responsible for their inability or unwillingness to speak properly.
The book starts with their father (and effectively a stepmother) arranging an escape from the camp – but they then got lost looking for berries and in the forest stumble across a 21st century version of the Gingerbread House made from sweet boxes. Later they encounter faceless border guards (with eyes drawn on in pen) and an author.
Different chapters move between the children, the father and the doctor.
So far so unusual, intriguing and enthralling.
But what really takes things to the next level is the translation process – a process which rather than some form of literal translation really effectively uses the novel as a starting point to produce a new piece of literature.
The first translator Jim Dingley had to approach the issue that the language was written in a mixture of Belarusian and Russian (actually both in a mix of literary and colloquial usage) as well as fifth even more colloquial language that was an amalgam of the two (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trasianka).
Reflecting on some similarities between Scots and Belarusian: both UNESCO Endangered languages (albeit part of 2500+ such tongues); both dominated by another language; and both seen by native speakers of that language with condescension as a dialect – and a rather uncouth and hard to comprehend one at that (although “In the case of English I think that we could add sentimentality to condescension – the Scots are odd folk that use words like ‘wee’, ‘bonnie’ and ‘the noo’ and we like singing their funny little song at New Year”) – he decided to replace Russian (called in the book “the lingo”) and Belarus (in the book “the leid” with English and Scots respectively. Further he translated the whole book into standard “RP” English and then worked with a Scottish poet Petra Reid to translate the Belarus parts into Scots.
There are actually two aspects to this part.
Firstly – the language itself. Reid had admitted to drawing on her granny, Rab C Nesbit and Irvine Welsh among other inspirations – and I would probably explain the book as like Shuggie Bain on steroids. Copious footnotes help (a glossary at the back I found I used much less) as does reading out the Scots passages phonetically in one’s head. Deliberately playing up to my own coloniser stereotype in keeping with the novel I would also condescendingly say that any educated English speaker who has sat through a Burns night dinner will find much that they can follow in the text – and thankfully without a man with a skirt waving a sword at a plate of offal.
And that was actually a relevant comment as what takes the novel to further heights of originality and impact is the translators decision to duplicate the copious Belarus poetic and literary references in the novel (particularly Frańcišak Bahuševič and his poem “Things Will Be Bad” which both is repeated frequently in the novel and gives it its title) by bringing in lots of Scottish poetry, with the National Bard Rabbie forming the centre piece. And so the book is scattered through with much of Burns most baudy verse, but also other songs and poems including “The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond”, music hall (It's a braw bricht moonlit nicht) and pop novelty “Donald Where's Your Troosers”.
The effect of this is to effectively translate the sense and thrust (rather than the literal reading) of the novel - and to put an English speaking reader (and I think more particularly an English speaking reader from either England or Scotland) very much into the world and mentality of the original novel as it would have been read by a Russian or Belarus speaker. If there is a downside it is that one can come away from the book with very little knowledge of Belarus itself - but for a book which is effectively an allegorical fable drawing on international dystopia, German fairy tale and Hebrew folklore I think this approach works. Further what I think is the really key Belarus text in the novel ("Things Will be Bad") is retained in this version.
It is rare to come across such imagination and power in a novel and such audacious invention in its translation
Highly recommended.
It is published by a Scotland Street Press - a Scottish and International independent publisher of fiction, history, poetry and translation.
It is a book which can only really be discussed in two parts – the underlying novel and this translation.
The underlying novel, as written by Alhierd Bacharevič is set in his native Belarus and is a dystopian fantasy on a battle for nationalist identity against imperial colonialism carried out with the weapons of language (or of dialect – the very distinction between the two being a key part of the battle), but told through a magic realism like lens drawing both on Hansel and Gretel and on the Jewish folklore of a Golem - all against terrible echoes of the Holocaust.
The story, in brief outline, features a man whose own Belarusian language (in which he takes his sense of identity) is simultaneously suppressed by the Russian-speaking authorities – who regard it as simply an idiots version of classical Russian, while promoted by nationalists who drove his singer wife to suicide as her songs did not conform to their aims for the language.
As a form of secret and long-term resistance he decides to bring up his daughter to speak only Belarus at home, and to simply refuse to speak or even acknowledge the Russian taught at school. As this increasingly antagonises the authorities, his daughter is taken away – together with a son who was moulded for him at about the same time. They end up interned in a language camp (on the site of an old concentration camp) deep in a forest where a Doctor has been given permission to carry out experiments to “cure” extreme cases of Belarus speakers by use of both pills and surgery on a growth he is convinced is responsible for their inability or unwillingness to speak properly.
The book starts with their father (and effectively a stepmother) arranging an escape from the camp – but they then got lost looking for berries and in the forest stumble across a 21st century version of the Gingerbread House made from sweet boxes. Later they encounter faceless border guards (with eyes drawn on in pen) and an author.
Different chapters move between the children, the father and the doctor.
So far so unusual, intriguing and enthralling.
But what really takes things to the next level is the translation process – a process which rather than some form of literal translation really effectively uses the novel as a starting point to produce a new piece of literature.
The first translator Jim Dingley had to approach the issue that the language was written in a mixture of Belarusian and Russian (actually both in a mix of literary and colloquial usage) as well as fifth even more colloquial language that was an amalgam of the two (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trasianka).
Reflecting on some similarities between Scots and Belarusian: both UNESCO Endangered languages (albeit part of 2500+ such tongues); both dominated by another language; and both seen by native speakers of that language with condescension as a dialect – and a rather uncouth and hard to comprehend one at that (although “In the case of English I think that we could add sentimentality to condescension – the Scots are odd folk that use words like ‘wee’, ‘bonnie’ and ‘the noo’ and we like singing their funny little song at New Year”) – he decided to replace Russian (called in the book “the lingo”) and Belarus (in the book “the leid” with English and Scots respectively. Further he translated the whole book into standard “RP” English and then worked with a Scottish poet Petra Reid to translate the Belarus parts into Scots.
There are actually two aspects to this part.
Firstly – the language itself. Reid had admitted to drawing on her granny, Rab C Nesbit and Irvine Welsh among other inspirations – and I would probably explain the book as like Shuggie Bain on steroids. Copious footnotes help (a glossary at the back I found I used much less) as does reading out the Scots passages phonetically in one’s head. Deliberately playing up to my own coloniser stereotype in keeping with the novel I would also condescendingly say that any educated English speaker who has sat through a Burns night dinner will find much that they can follow in the text – and thankfully without a man with a skirt waving a sword at a plate of offal.
And that was actually a relevant comment as what takes the novel to further heights of originality and impact is the translators decision to duplicate the copious Belarus poetic and literary references in the novel (particularly Frańcišak Bahuševič and his poem “Things Will Be Bad” which both is repeated frequently in the novel and gives it its title) by bringing in lots of Scottish poetry, with the National Bard Rabbie forming the centre piece. And so the book is scattered through with much of Burns most baudy verse, but also other songs and poems including “The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond”, music hall (It's a braw bricht moonlit nicht) and pop novelty “Donald Where's Your Troosers”.
The effect of this is to effectively translate the sense and thrust (rather than the literal reading) of the novel - and to put an English speaking reader (and I think more particularly an English speaking reader from either England or Scotland) very much into the world and mentality of the original novel as it would have been read by a Russian or Belarus speaker. If there is a downside it is that one can come away from the book with very little knowledge of Belarus itself - but for a book which is effectively an allegorical fable drawing on international dystopia, German fairy tale and Hebrew folklore I think this approach works. Further what I think is the really key Belarus text in the novel ("Things Will be Bad") is retained in this version.
It is rare to come across such imagination and power in a novel and such audacious invention in its translation
Highly recommended.
February 18, 2021
Longlisted for the Republic of Consciousness Prize 2021
This is a truly unique book, and both the original story and the creative translation are somewhere between brilliant and crazy, and maybe both.
Bacharevič's primary inspiration is the Belarussian language, which was regarded by Russians as little more than a rough dialect of their own language, which makes it an endangered language. The book is written in at least three languages, one Russian (the Lingo), pure Belarussian (the Leid) and ordinary colloquial speech, which borrows elements from both. This linguistic diversity poses a very difficult problem for translators, which has been resolved using Scots to represent Belarussian and standard English for Russian. That, along with the diversity of cultural references that the translators have also found Scottish equivalents for (many of them songs and poems by Burns), makes for a very disorienting reading experience, which is further complicated by the magic realist/fairytale elements of the story.
The story has a relatively simple framework, complicated by the frequent switches of perspective and a very unreliable narration. It concerns a girl Sia/Alicia and her father, an alcoholic dreaamer who attempts to bring her up in isolation from Russian culture. The authorities break them up and take Alicia to a language camp in the forest run by a maverick doctor, where the treatments involve mind-altering drugs. Alicia and her "brother" Avi (Aviator) escape from the camp and run into the forest, trying to find their way to Bremen and having a series of fairytale adventures.
Rating such a book is difficult - I admire the concept and the ingenuity of the translation, and parts were very entertaining, but overall I was left rather confused, with more questions than answers.
This is a truly unique book, and both the original story and the creative translation are somewhere between brilliant and crazy, and maybe both.
Bacharevič's primary inspiration is the Belarussian language, which was regarded by Russians as little more than a rough dialect of their own language, which makes it an endangered language. The book is written in at least three languages, one Russian (the Lingo), pure Belarussian (the Leid) and ordinary colloquial speech, which borrows elements from both. This linguistic diversity poses a very difficult problem for translators, which has been resolved using Scots to represent Belarussian and standard English for Russian. That, along with the diversity of cultural references that the translators have also found Scottish equivalents for (many of them songs and poems by Burns), makes for a very disorienting reading experience, which is further complicated by the magic realist/fairytale elements of the story.
The story has a relatively simple framework, complicated by the frequent switches of perspective and a very unreliable narration. It concerns a girl Sia/Alicia and her father, an alcoholic dreaamer who attempts to bring her up in isolation from Russian culture. The authorities break them up and take Alicia to a language camp in the forest run by a maverick doctor, where the treatments involve mind-altering drugs. Alicia and her "brother" Avi (Aviator) escape from the camp and run into the forest, trying to find their way to Bremen and having a series of fairytale adventures.
Rating such a book is difficult - I admire the concept and the ingenuity of the translation, and parts were very entertaining, but overall I was left rather confused, with more questions than answers.
February 11, 2021
I have never read a book like this. I hadn’t heard of this book until it was long listed for the 2021 Republic of Consciousness Prize. It did not start life in English and there is a blog by the translators here: https://scotlandstreetpress.com/alind....
One key thing this blog says in one of the very early posts is that the original book is written in 5 different languages:
Literary Belarusian
Colloquial Belarusian
Literary Russian
Colloquial Russian
‘Trasianka’ – a mixed form of speech in which Belarusian and Russian elements and structures alternate arbitrarily (Wikipedia definition).
And the thing that makes this book different to any other you have read is the decision the translators made about how to handle these different languages.
”Broadly, the issue facing the translator is how to make a clear distinction between the original two languages, Russian and Belarusian. Right from the outset I wanted to experiment with English and Scots in a translation of the book. I came to the conclusion that this was the way forward on the basis of the UNESCO Atlas of Endangered Languages, in which both Belarusian and Scots are classified as ‘vulnerable’.
The importance of this classification is that both Belarusian and Scots are viewed as languages, at least in some quarters; both languages are under pressure from a more powerful language. In both instances, speakers of the more powerful language tend to regard the weaker language with condescension or even downright vilification: it is no more than a substandard ‘corrupt’ or ‘ugly’ dialect. In the case of Belarusian, asking for something in a shop or ordering a meal in a restaurant in the language can sometimes be met with the response in Russian ‘Can’t you speak like a human being?’ In the case of English I think that we could add sentimentality to condescension – the Scots are odd folk that use words like ‘wee’, ‘bonnie’ and ‘the noo’ and we like singing their funny little song at New Year, but there’s no real difference, is there?”
What this decision means in practical terms is that what we read is not just a translation of the book but actually something that starts from the original text but ends up almost being a new book written in a mixture of English, Scots and various hybrids to match the flavour of the original. The whole blog mentioned above is a fascinating read and recommended. And this creative approach to translation brings a new dimension to the book.
Alhierd Bacharevič’s novel is a fantasy, part fairy tale, part kind of dystopia with magical realism. It is set in Belarus in a culture where there is a linguistic battle in progress, a battle where people are judged by their language. Anyone looking to maintain their national identity is judged by those “colonising” the country.
The book begins with two children in a camp where we get hints of a dark purpose to do with language and being forced to speak “properly”. As the book opens, the children’s father arrives and engineers an escape, but the children then get lost as they make their getaway. In this thread of the story, we follow the children in an almost “Hansel and Gretel” like fairy story mixed with Jewish folklore. In another thread, we follow the time leading up to that as the father seeks to bring up his daughter and then as he seeks for his daughter after she is lost. And then there is a third thread in which we follow the doctor who set up the camp as he seeks to find a way to “cure” this people who cannot speak properly and the camp becomes a place where he can experiment.
There is a lot to be admired here. There are, I think, two possible reactions to the book, both of which seem to me to equally valid. The first sees the brilliance of the translation method and, through it, gains an insight that an English speaking reader would not get simply by reading a straight translation (I’m not even sure a straight translation would be possible). The alternative view sees the (admittedly extremely clever) translation approach become a distraction, almost a gimmick, that gets in the way of the serious point of the book. I fell more into this second view even though I appreciate how clever the translators have been. To exaggerate for effect, I felt a bit like I had read a book about Russian suppression of Belarusian and come away with only “Donald, where’s your troosers?”.
So this is hard one to rate for me. It’s probably 3 stars for the book that eventually emerged from the translation process but an extra star for the cleverness of the approach.
One key thing this blog says in one of the very early posts is that the original book is written in 5 different languages:
Literary Belarusian
Colloquial Belarusian
Literary Russian
Colloquial Russian
‘Trasianka’ – a mixed form of speech in which Belarusian and Russian elements and structures alternate arbitrarily (Wikipedia definition).
And the thing that makes this book different to any other you have read is the decision the translators made about how to handle these different languages.
”Broadly, the issue facing the translator is how to make a clear distinction between the original two languages, Russian and Belarusian. Right from the outset I wanted to experiment with English and Scots in a translation of the book. I came to the conclusion that this was the way forward on the basis of the UNESCO Atlas of Endangered Languages, in which both Belarusian and Scots are classified as ‘vulnerable’.
The importance of this classification is that both Belarusian and Scots are viewed as languages, at least in some quarters; both languages are under pressure from a more powerful language. In both instances, speakers of the more powerful language tend to regard the weaker language with condescension or even downright vilification: it is no more than a substandard ‘corrupt’ or ‘ugly’ dialect. In the case of Belarusian, asking for something in a shop or ordering a meal in a restaurant in the language can sometimes be met with the response in Russian ‘Can’t you speak like a human being?’ In the case of English I think that we could add sentimentality to condescension – the Scots are odd folk that use words like ‘wee’, ‘bonnie’ and ‘the noo’ and we like singing their funny little song at New Year, but there’s no real difference, is there?”
What this decision means in practical terms is that what we read is not just a translation of the book but actually something that starts from the original text but ends up almost being a new book written in a mixture of English, Scots and various hybrids to match the flavour of the original. The whole blog mentioned above is a fascinating read and recommended. And this creative approach to translation brings a new dimension to the book.
Alhierd Bacharevič’s novel is a fantasy, part fairy tale, part kind of dystopia with magical realism. It is set in Belarus in a culture where there is a linguistic battle in progress, a battle where people are judged by their language. Anyone looking to maintain their national identity is judged by those “colonising” the country.
The book begins with two children in a camp where we get hints of a dark purpose to do with language and being forced to speak “properly”. As the book opens, the children’s father arrives and engineers an escape, but the children then get lost as they make their getaway. In this thread of the story, we follow the children in an almost “Hansel and Gretel” like fairy story mixed with Jewish folklore. In another thread, we follow the time leading up to that as the father seeks to bring up his daughter and then as he seeks for his daughter after she is lost. And then there is a third thread in which we follow the doctor who set up the camp as he seeks to find a way to “cure” this people who cannot speak properly and the camp becomes a place where he can experiment.
There is a lot to be admired here. There are, I think, two possible reactions to the book, both of which seem to me to equally valid. The first sees the brilliance of the translation method and, through it, gains an insight that an English speaking reader would not get simply by reading a straight translation (I’m not even sure a straight translation would be possible). The alternative view sees the (admittedly extremely clever) translation approach become a distraction, almost a gimmick, that gets in the way of the serious point of the book. I fell more into this second view even though I appreciate how clever the translators have been. To exaggerate for effect, I felt a bit like I had read a book about Russian suppression of Belarusian and come away with only “Donald, where’s your troosers?”.
So this is hard one to rate for me. It’s probably 3 stars for the book that eventually emerged from the translation process but an extra star for the cleverness of the approach.
February 13, 2021
“Translation is a way of avenging yourself on language for what it has done”
This is a clearly a brilliantly conceived and creative approach to "translation," one that is closer to an adaptation.
See:
The author and translator’s blog https://scotlandstreetpress.com/alind...
Graham’s review https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
And Neil’s https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
Personally this came at the wrong-time for me in terms of mental bandwidth, and I struggled with the Scots sections, meaning much of the story probably passed me by, and the reading experience was something of a slog.
4.5 stars for the concept, 2 for my personal reading experience = 3 overall.
This is a clearly a brilliantly conceived and creative approach to "translation," one that is closer to an adaptation.
See:
The author and translator’s blog https://scotlandstreetpress.com/alind...
Graham’s review https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
And Neil’s https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
Personally this came at the wrong-time for me in terms of mental bandwidth, and I struggled with the Scots sections, meaning much of the story probably passed me by, and the reading experience was something of a slog.
4.5 stars for the concept, 2 for my personal reading experience = 3 overall.
February 7, 2021
I was almost able to understand SCOTS by the time I finished this book! My video review https://youtu.be/JpYTb47mo98
October 6, 2017
Вельмі добры раман, маляўніча прыгожы і поўны дасьціпных метафараў.
У нечым пераклікаецца з "Мовай" Марціновіча, але на мой погляд проза Бахарэвіча нашмат больш глыбокая.
У нечым пераклікаецца з "Мовай" Марціновіча, але на мой погляд проза Бахарэвіча нашмат больш глыбокая.
April 7, 2024
I read a lot of translated fiction, but I am struggling to think of a book for which the translators play such a role as in this. Bacharevic’s original was in Russian with parts of it in it supposed minority of Belarusian. Translators Dingley and Reid work their magic, and these become the Lingo and the Leid, or more simply, English and Scots.
It’s quite appropriate also, as this is a novel about language.
In a camp deep within a forest is a Doctor who trains children to lose their native language and to speak ‘correctly’. Two children, sister and brother, Alicia and Avi, are at the camp until they are freed by their father, but soon after they manage to get away, they are separated again and left to wander the forest, as Hansel and Gretel did. In part at least, it reads as a dark fairy tale.
The ‘pure’ language of the Doctor is Russian, while the children’s father wants them to speak Belarusian.
As a novel in translation it is therefore arguably more powerful than in its original language. Something I don’t think I’ve ever come across before.
When Avi speaks to his sister, he says things like..
And Dingley and Reid take it a step further, because the siblings speak in Scots, they seem distinctly Scottish in other aspects; snippets from Scottish poets and folklore are used regularly. Though of course they are in Belarus.
It’s an incredible feat by the translators. I’ve no doubt the novel must lack some of the detail and coherence of the original, but I’m prepared to overlook any of its few faults, and this really is a fascinating and outstanding piece of work, the likes of which I have read nothing even similar.
It’s quite appropriate also, as this is a novel about language.
In a camp deep within a forest is a Doctor who trains children to lose their native language and to speak ‘correctly’. Two children, sister and brother, Alicia and Avi, are at the camp until they are freed by their father, but soon after they manage to get away, they are separated again and left to wander the forest, as Hansel and Gretel did. In part at least, it reads as a dark fairy tale.
The ‘pure’ language of the Doctor is Russian, while the children’s father wants them to speak Belarusian.
As a novel in translation it is therefore arguably more powerful than in its original language. Something I don’t think I’ve ever come across before.
When Avi speaks to his sister, he says things like..
Ah’m wunnerin whare we are?…If Faither waur tae phone us the noo, whit wad we tell tae him.
And Dingley and Reid take it a step further, because the siblings speak in Scots, they seem distinctly Scottish in other aspects; snippets from Scottish poets and folklore are used regularly. Though of course they are in Belarus.
It’s an incredible feat by the translators. I’ve no doubt the novel must lack some of the detail and coherence of the original, but I’m prepared to overlook any of its few faults, and this really is a fascinating and outstanding piece of work, the likes of which I have read nothing even similar.
March 4, 2023
A very cool idea, both the original and the translation. The writing is good, overall some cool structural ideas. The premise wears thin after a while and the characters never get much depth. There’s a reason fairy tales aren’t 300 pages long
January 22, 2024
Gin readen this gives ye a sair heid, I propone ye chuise a different beuk.
(I had to use a Scots translator to write that. You'd think after 300 pages I'd be fluent, but wae is me.)
I love magical realism. I love fairytales. I love translated fiction and discussing the significance of language. I really don't love having to read out loud in a Scottish accent to decipher half of a book.
Like every other review, I'd be amiss to not praise the translators for the laborous task of not just literally translating Russian and Belarusian, but attempting to respect the integrity of their relationship within the story. The "feat" of this translation, however, seems to take on its own merrit, overtaking that of the story itself - this is my main qualm.
It's impressive, yes, when actors memorize lofty passages of text for a play. But if after a performance the audience is only commenting on the memorization work, and not how the story made them feel, has the job really been done?
I had an incredibly difficult time empathizing with or rooting for the two main characters because, partly due to the translation choice, I didn't understand what they wanted. Over halfway through the book, I still wasn't told their real feelings towards the camp - other than the less than significant repeated information that the tablets they were given tasted good. Do they want to get back to their father? Why did they run from him in the first place? Are they trying to make it back to the camp or travel farther away? Without clarity on their motivation, I am left with a story of two wandering children with no goal or prospect of a fulfilling ending.
On the flip side, the cast of English speaking villains, like the Doctor, were sometimes easier to empathize with, getting more of a glimpse into their inner monologues. In this way, the roles of hero and villain almost feel reversed. As the kids attempt to escape their 'foes,' I found myself not knowing who to root for (The scene of them tying up the author comes to mind - as far as I saw he posed no real threat and I was largely on his side). What's worse, some of the only interesting scenes with these villain characters were over before they even began - the revealed main enemy by the end of the book is a character we had known for all of maybe 8 pages.
I simply didn't get it. Is this my fault as an English speaking reader? Am I missing some nuanced point of the dangers of erasing language? I don't believe so, considering this theme was often too on the nose for my liking as well.
If this worked for you, fantastic. I feel as if ma brain wis eatit bi wulves.
(I had to use a Scots translator to write that. You'd think after 300 pages I'd be fluent, but wae is me.)
I love magical realism. I love fairytales. I love translated fiction and discussing the significance of language. I really don't love having to read out loud in a Scottish accent to decipher half of a book.
Like every other review, I'd be amiss to not praise the translators for the laborous task of not just literally translating Russian and Belarusian, but attempting to respect the integrity of their relationship within the story. The "feat" of this translation, however, seems to take on its own merrit, overtaking that of the story itself - this is my main qualm.
It's impressive, yes, when actors memorize lofty passages of text for a play. But if after a performance the audience is only commenting on the memorization work, and not how the story made them feel, has the job really been done?
I had an incredibly difficult time empathizing with or rooting for the two main characters because, partly due to the translation choice, I didn't understand what they wanted. Over halfway through the book, I still wasn't told their real feelings towards the camp - other than the less than significant repeated information that the tablets they were given tasted good. Do they want to get back to their father? Why did they run from him in the first place? Are they trying to make it back to the camp or travel farther away? Without clarity on their motivation, I am left with a story of two wandering children with no goal or prospect of a fulfilling ending.
On the flip side, the cast of English speaking villains, like the Doctor, were sometimes easier to empathize with, getting more of a glimpse into their inner monologues. In this way, the roles of hero and villain almost feel reversed. As the kids attempt to escape their 'foes,' I found myself not knowing who to root for (The scene of them tying up the author comes to mind - as far as I saw he posed no real threat and I was largely on his side). What's worse, some of the only interesting scenes with these villain characters were over before they even began - the revealed main enemy by the end of the book is a character we had known for all of maybe 8 pages.
I simply didn't get it. Is this my fault as an English speaking reader? Am I missing some nuanced point of the dangers of erasing language? I don't believe so, considering this theme was often too on the nose for my liking as well.
If this worked for you, fantastic. I feel as if ma brain wis eatit bi wulves.
July 22, 2025
aye dinnae hae tae give’n fayre n braw re-view
5 stars for the being a super neat-o translation (russian to english, belarussian to scots) but inevitably this made is super hard to read in parts
3 stars for the plot being a little all over the place?? lacked a fair bit of cohesion but i do love a magical realism fairy tale feel
would i recommend to others? uhhhhh
5 stars for the being a super neat-o translation (russian to english, belarussian to scots) but inevitably this made is super hard to read in parts
3 stars for the plot being a little all over the place?? lacked a fair bit of cohesion but i do love a magical realism fairy tale feel
would i recommend to others? uhhhhh
August 5, 2023
Read around the world project - Belarus
First off, major props to the translators and the effort that went into bringing this book to English audiences. Alindarka's Children comments on the loss of Belarusian language as a result of creeping Russian politics, and I think it was extremely creative for the translators to replace the Russian portions with English and the Belarusian text with Scots, as the latter are both "endangered" languages.
That being said, I absolutely hated my reading experience of Alindarka's Children as it contains two of my least favorite things to find in a book - the incorporation of lots of songs/poems, and a lot of characters that speak in dialect. While it was conceptually a cool way to translate this book, I found the Scots extremely difficult to get through and as such, I absolutely would have DNFed this if not for this global reading project. The first line of this book is "Ma tittie wis eatit bi wulves" and I can't tell you how many times I picked up my copy, just to put it right back down again after reading the first page. Even after finishing all 300+ pages, I STILL didn't know that "tittie" = "sister" until I got to the glossary in the very back!!
For this reason, I'm not sure if my confusion regarding the plot of Alindarka's Children is a result of the actual book, or my general failure in reading the Scots. There are definitely some Hansel and Gretel fairy tale vibes, a creepy doctor and some magical realism. But I couldn't tell you much more than this, and overall I'm just so thrilled to be done with Alindarka's Children as it's been hanging over me ever since we picked this as the Belarus book over a year and a half ago!!
1.5/5 stars
First off, major props to the translators and the effort that went into bringing this book to English audiences. Alindarka's Children comments on the loss of Belarusian language as a result of creeping Russian politics, and I think it was extremely creative for the translators to replace the Russian portions with English and the Belarusian text with Scots, as the latter are both "endangered" languages.
That being said, I absolutely hated my reading experience of Alindarka's Children as it contains two of my least favorite things to find in a book - the incorporation of lots of songs/poems, and a lot of characters that speak in dialect. While it was conceptually a cool way to translate this book, I found the Scots extremely difficult to get through and as such, I absolutely would have DNFed this if not for this global reading project. The first line of this book is "Ma tittie wis eatit bi wulves" and I can't tell you how many times I picked up my copy, just to put it right back down again after reading the first page. Even after finishing all 300+ pages, I STILL didn't know that "tittie" = "sister" until I got to the glossary in the very back!!
For this reason, I'm not sure if my confusion regarding the plot of Alindarka's Children is a result of the actual book, or my general failure in reading the Scots. There are definitely some Hansel and Gretel fairy tale vibes, a creepy doctor and some magical realism. But I couldn't tell you much more than this, and overall I'm just so thrilled to be done with Alindarka's Children as it's been hanging over me ever since we picked this as the Belarus book over a year and a half ago!!
1.5/5 stars
February 4, 2025
Amazing, creative book about language and identity! As a linguist, stories involving language are dear to my heart, especially if they're not dragging out the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis yet again.
The original is in Belarusian and Russian, with Russian being the prestige language and Belarusian of low status. The translation team for the English-language market paralleled this by using English and Scots, which I think was a really inspired choice. Do most English speakers understand Scots? No, of course not, but it's also familiar enough that we can get words here and there and the sense that the two languages are related. If you - like me - are not a Scots speaker, it won't always be an easy read, but there's a thorough glossary (with footnotes if you're using a ebook version) and it gets easier to read without the notes as you go along.
That being said... the Scots translator tells us in her intro that she's not a fluent Scots speaker and outright made some of the words up. Perhaps she's being modest about her Scots fluency, but if not, it's a shame that they didn't find a fluent speaker to do it justice.
The original is in Belarusian and Russian, with Russian being the prestige language and Belarusian of low status. The translation team for the English-language market paralleled this by using English and Scots, which I think was a really inspired choice. Do most English speakers understand Scots? No, of course not, but it's also familiar enough that we can get words here and there and the sense that the two languages are related. If you - like me - are not a Scots speaker, it won't always be an easy read, but there's a thorough glossary (with footnotes if you're using a ebook version) and it gets easier to read without the notes as you go along.
That being said... the Scots translator tells us in her intro that she's not a fluent Scots speaker and outright made some of the words up. Perhaps she's being modest about her Scots fluency, but if not, it's a shame that they didn't find a fluent speaker to do it justice.
June 27, 2025
I appreciated the themes of this book about languages being lost to other languages, and some of the characters were interesting (The Doctor was a neat, villain), and some if the folklore aspects were intriguing. However, the translation generally bothered me, it was difficult to read and I found myself put off too much by the blatant choices of the translator (Scottish poems referencing Scottish history instead of Belarussian poems referencing Belarus history...?).
February 28, 2025
Alindarka’s Children is the first reading from Belarus in the World Literature group I am in on Goodreads. It is probably significant that the only Belarusian author I had read previously (Svetlana Alexievich) wrote in Russian (although of course I read her in translation) and mainly about Russian or Soviet events. Bacharevič on the other hand is a Belarusian nationalist, writing in Belarusian. The theme of Alindarka’s Children is Belarusian resistance to Russification, especially in language. This is the one thing I can say about it with certainty. Maybe.
The author’s technique is to begin with mysterious events which are only explained later, sometimes much later, so almost everything I can say about it will be “spoilers” to some extent (be warned). My review will probably also be confusing to anyone who hasn’t read it. That’s just the kind of book it is.
It is a very difficult novel to try to classify. First of all, I’m not sure whether to call it magical realism or an out-and-out fantasy. The setting is hard to pin down; a few references suggest the Stalinist era, but mostly it seems to be in the period under current pro-Putin president Aleksandr Lukashenko, or perhaps in a near future, or a close alternative reality that exaggerates the (very real) tendencies of both toward Russification. The multiple story lines and constant reversals of chronology are high modernism, but there is also a postmodernist intertextuality run rampant.
The paranormal brother Avi, who arose spontaneously from a lump of magical clay derived indirectly from a Jewish magician, seems to be a reference to the myths of the golem. “Avi” is short for “Aviator”, but perhaps the nickname, being a Jewish name, is a reference to his origin; except that it is not in the original, where he has a different name, which only sounds like the Belarusian word for pilot. The two children’s wanderings in the forest are full of references to the fairy tales of the Town Musicians of Bremen and Hansel and Gretel, but Avi’s finding of the corpse with the pocket-knife could be an allusion to another story of children without adults, The Lord of the Flies. The title is a reference to the poem “Things Will Be Bad” by the nineteenth-century Belarusian poet Francišak Bahuševič, whose central character is Alindarka. There are quotations from the poem throughout the novel.
The English translation – perhaps it would be more accurate to say adaptation – adds to the complexity. The original book is written in a combination of Belarusian and Russian (in fact mostly in Belarusian, with occasional Russian passages); the translator translates Russian (and actually most of the Belarusian) to English and some of the Belarusian to Scots, so there is in addition to the Belarusian nationalism a layer of Scottish nationalism as well, making the book a discussion of linguistic nationalism in general. The protagonist, the “Faither” of the two children Alicia and Avi, although he shares the antisemitism of the uneducated, has an admiration bordering on adoration for “the Jew”, Eliezer Yitzhak Perlman (later Eliezer Ben-Yehuda), who revived Hebrew, then a dead language, and whose daughter became the first native speaker of Hebrew since the third century BCE; he even has his portrait on the wall of his apartment. Alicia (originally named “Sia”, supposedly for an ancient Egyptian goddess – but this was not her name in the original Belarusian novel either) was likewise raised as a native speaker of “the Leid”, Belarusian or Scots. Russian/English is referred to in contrast as the “Lingo”. This is the starting point, but not the beginning, of the whole novel. Throughout the book there are quotations from Scots poetry, especially Robert Burns, probably substituted for Belarusian poetry in the original, which counterpoint the events of the narrative. Scots words in the text are footnoted and there is a glossary in the back, but neither include the poetry, which is occasionally very opaque.
The plotline of the novel is that Faither and Alicia lived for several years more or less in hiding, to ensure that she grew up speaking the Leid with as little influence of the Lingo as possible. Eventually, thanks to an overzealous teacher who is a psychologist (perhaps more what we would call a guidance counselor), Alicia is taken away from her father along with her “brother” Avi, who suddenly appears for the first time while she is being seized. They are put into a kind of linguistic re-education camp. The origins of the Camp and its Doctor form one of the other story lines. The endnotes tell us that his thoughts are slightly modified from Hitler’s Mein Kampf. The novel begins with them in the Camp. Faither, together with his girl friend, Kenzie (another, less important story line), rescues the children from the Camp, but they escape from them (suggesting that perhaps Alicia wasn’t thoroughly in accord with Faither’s plans for her life) and disappear into the forest. They are using an old atlas to try to go to Bremen to become musicians. The main plotline follows their adventures wandering in the forest, based largely on fairy tales. This alternates with the other storylines, which are largely in flashbacks and provide some backstory.
The last chapter explains much, and there is a surprise ending; but it is ambiguous. Is it a happy ending, or the worst ending possible? The reader has to decide.
This is a very difficult novel, but difficult in a way that is fun to read. It has a fairy-tale, dreamlike logic that isn’t always coherent if you try to analyze it. I’m not sure the decision to use Scots in the English version was a good idea; most readers in Belarus would understand both Belarusian and Russian without any difficulty, but for an English reader the Scots is much more difficult to follow (even for me, and I have read some Scots poetry and have some background in linguistics), and the result is that the book is obscure in a different and less literary, less intended way, and that unsympathetic characters are easier to understand than the protagonists. I saw in one internet review that the French translator considered a similar approach using Breton or Provençal but ultimately decided against it, just using different levels of the language.
In any case, I did enjoy the novel and would recommend it to anyone who enjoys experimental fiction with a political point.
The author’s technique is to begin with mysterious events which are only explained later, sometimes much later, so almost everything I can say about it will be “spoilers” to some extent (be warned). My review will probably also be confusing to anyone who hasn’t read it. That’s just the kind of book it is.
It is a very difficult novel to try to classify. First of all, I’m not sure whether to call it magical realism or an out-and-out fantasy. The setting is hard to pin down; a few references suggest the Stalinist era, but mostly it seems to be in the period under current pro-Putin president Aleksandr Lukashenko, or perhaps in a near future, or a close alternative reality that exaggerates the (very real) tendencies of both toward Russification. The multiple story lines and constant reversals of chronology are high modernism, but there is also a postmodernist intertextuality run rampant.
The paranormal brother Avi, who arose spontaneously from a lump of magical clay derived indirectly from a Jewish magician, seems to be a reference to the myths of the golem. “Avi” is short for “Aviator”, but perhaps the nickname, being a Jewish name, is a reference to his origin; except that it is not in the original, where he has a different name, which only sounds like the Belarusian word for pilot. The two children’s wanderings in the forest are full of references to the fairy tales of the Town Musicians of Bremen and Hansel and Gretel, but Avi’s finding of the corpse with the pocket-knife could be an allusion to another story of children without adults, The Lord of the Flies. The title is a reference to the poem “Things Will Be Bad” by the nineteenth-century Belarusian poet Francišak Bahuševič, whose central character is Alindarka. There are quotations from the poem throughout the novel.
The English translation – perhaps it would be more accurate to say adaptation – adds to the complexity. The original book is written in a combination of Belarusian and Russian (in fact mostly in Belarusian, with occasional Russian passages); the translator translates Russian (and actually most of the Belarusian) to English and some of the Belarusian to Scots, so there is in addition to the Belarusian nationalism a layer of Scottish nationalism as well, making the book a discussion of linguistic nationalism in general. The protagonist, the “Faither” of the two children Alicia and Avi, although he shares the antisemitism of the uneducated, has an admiration bordering on adoration for “the Jew”, Eliezer Yitzhak Perlman (later Eliezer Ben-Yehuda), who revived Hebrew, then a dead language, and whose daughter became the first native speaker of Hebrew since the third century BCE; he even has his portrait on the wall of his apartment. Alicia (originally named “Sia”, supposedly for an ancient Egyptian goddess – but this was not her name in the original Belarusian novel either) was likewise raised as a native speaker of “the Leid”, Belarusian or Scots. Russian/English is referred to in contrast as the “Lingo”. This is the starting point, but not the beginning, of the whole novel. Throughout the book there are quotations from Scots poetry, especially Robert Burns, probably substituted for Belarusian poetry in the original, which counterpoint the events of the narrative. Scots words in the text are footnoted and there is a glossary in the back, but neither include the poetry, which is occasionally very opaque.
The plotline of the novel is that Faither and Alicia lived for several years more or less in hiding, to ensure that she grew up speaking the Leid with as little influence of the Lingo as possible. Eventually, thanks to an overzealous teacher who is a psychologist (perhaps more what we would call a guidance counselor), Alicia is taken away from her father along with her “brother” Avi, who suddenly appears for the first time while she is being seized. They are put into a kind of linguistic re-education camp. The origins of the Camp and its Doctor form one of the other story lines. The endnotes tell us that his thoughts are slightly modified from Hitler’s Mein Kampf. The novel begins with them in the Camp. Faither, together with his girl friend, Kenzie (another, less important story line), rescues the children from the Camp, but they escape from them (suggesting that perhaps Alicia wasn’t thoroughly in accord with Faither’s plans for her life) and disappear into the forest. They are using an old atlas to try to go to Bremen to become musicians. The main plotline follows their adventures wandering in the forest, based largely on fairy tales. This alternates with the other storylines, which are largely in flashbacks and provide some backstory.
The last chapter explains much, and there is a surprise ending; but it is ambiguous. Is it a happy ending, or the worst ending possible? The reader has to decide.
This is a very difficult novel, but difficult in a way that is fun to read. It has a fairy-tale, dreamlike logic that isn’t always coherent if you try to analyze it. I’m not sure the decision to use Scots in the English version was a good idea; most readers in Belarus would understand both Belarusian and Russian without any difficulty, but for an English reader the Scots is much more difficult to follow (even for me, and I have read some Scots poetry and have some background in linguistics), and the result is that the book is obscure in a different and less literary, less intended way, and that unsympathetic characters are easier to understand than the protagonists. I saw in one internet review that the French translator considered a similar approach using Breton or Provençal but ultimately decided against it, just using different levels of the language.
In any case, I did enjoy the novel and would recommend it to anyone who enjoys experimental fiction with a political point.
July 18, 2021
Highly recommended! Dark fantasy which captured a very complex story about the difficulties and frustration that one must experience when living in Belarus. Written in a fascinating way!
Next level translation. Original mixture of Russian and Belarusian is translated into English and Scots. Reading out the Scots parts phonetically helps a lot, which makes the story good to follow.
Next level translation. Original mixture of Russian and Belarusian is translated into English and Scots. Reading out the Scots parts phonetically helps a lot, which makes the story good to follow.
April 22, 2023
The real-life counterparts of the unnamed nations in Alindarka’s Children are Russia and Belarus, in which Belarus is dominated by Russian forces to eliminate all traces of Belarussian culture, history, and language. To capture some of that tension, translators Jim Dingley and Petra Reid have substituted English (for the Russians) and Scots (for the Belarussians). The Sctos language is just unfamiliar enough for English readers to imitate Russian disorientation in the face of a strong dialect. In Alindarka’s Children, the Russian language is referred to as “the Lingo” and Belarussian as “the Leid.” The Leid is under siege and its use is forbidden. Children who speak the Leid are sent to a prison camp where a doctor works who has a “theory” about a bone deep in the larynx that prevents children from speaking the Lingo without an accent. Surgery is occasionally required to remove this “bone.”
The doctor believes that if a spoken language is unclear, then so are thoughts the words are meant to express. Not surprisingly, he has an urge to test his theory on Alicia whose allure for him is simultaneously sexual, predatory, and sadistic; an allure driven in part by Alicia as representative of the ethnic, erotic, and exotic other and in part as a transgressive (for him) hetero assertion of dominance.
As the novel begins, two children, Alicia and Avi, are kidnapped away from the camp by their father and his girlfriend. The father is an absolute stickler for the Leid, refusing to allow the children to speak the Lingo at home and at school, too. The Scottish takes a bit getting used to but sounds English spoken with a broad accent. Songs permeate every page of the novel, like an excessively engaged Greek chorus but whose statements don’t always make immediate sense in the context of the story at any given point but which become clearer as the book goes on. (The book provides a glossary at the end along with keywords defined at the bottom of the page.)
The children’s father (“Faither,” in Scots), who lost his legal parenting rights over language issues, quickly turns out to be dangerously inept and manages to lose the children after stopping briefly to stretch their legs. Faither is alone in his mission to preserve his language and to use his children to both preserve the Leid and refuse to learn or speak the Lingo, even if it will make employment and citizenship easier withing his own country. Avi and Alicia—who seem much better off without him and his even cluelesser girlfriend—are surprisingly resourceful and resilient for being lost in the middle of nowhere. Faither eventually loses his girlfriend and job, too. The children’s mother left Faither long ago over his obsession with the Leid.
Alicia and Avi spend the rest of the novel on the lam, negotiating their way among the perils posed by various adults, almost all of whom demonstrate themselves to be hostile toward the children, even if they, too, like the children, are native Leid speakers. What their fate might be, the novel explores, with compassion, humor, and seriousness.
For more of my reviews, please see https://www.thebookbeat.com/backroom/...
The doctor believes that if a spoken language is unclear, then so are thoughts the words are meant to express. Not surprisingly, he has an urge to test his theory on Alicia whose allure for him is simultaneously sexual, predatory, and sadistic; an allure driven in part by Alicia as representative of the ethnic, erotic, and exotic other and in part as a transgressive (for him) hetero assertion of dominance.
As the novel begins, two children, Alicia and Avi, are kidnapped away from the camp by their father and his girlfriend. The father is an absolute stickler for the Leid, refusing to allow the children to speak the Lingo at home and at school, too. The Scottish takes a bit getting used to but sounds English spoken with a broad accent. Songs permeate every page of the novel, like an excessively engaged Greek chorus but whose statements don’t always make immediate sense in the context of the story at any given point but which become clearer as the book goes on. (The book provides a glossary at the end along with keywords defined at the bottom of the page.)
The children’s father (“Faither,” in Scots), who lost his legal parenting rights over language issues, quickly turns out to be dangerously inept and manages to lose the children after stopping briefly to stretch their legs. Faither is alone in his mission to preserve his language and to use his children to both preserve the Leid and refuse to learn or speak the Lingo, even if it will make employment and citizenship easier withing his own country. Avi and Alicia—who seem much better off without him and his even cluelesser girlfriend—are surprisingly resourceful and resilient for being lost in the middle of nowhere. Faither eventually loses his girlfriend and job, too. The children’s mother left Faither long ago over his obsession with the Leid.
Alicia and Avi spend the rest of the novel on the lam, negotiating their way among the perils posed by various adults, almost all of whom demonstrate themselves to be hostile toward the children, even if they, too, like the children, are native Leid speakers. What their fate might be, the novel explores, with compassion, humor, and seriousness.
For more of my reviews, please see https://www.thebookbeat.com/backroom/...
May 3, 2025
i seem to be the only one in my class who thoroughly enjoyed this book but i really did!!!
a few quick thoughts, mostly concerning translation:
1. such an insane translation. i think, frankly, there was no perfect way to translate this text but i honestly found this to be as effective as possible. maintains imperial-to-endangered language element and while the Scots is Extremely challenging to read, it's quite rewarding/engaging. it's cool to see how you are able to get faster and faster reading this.
2. i do find it extremely odd that the Scots translator doesn't actually speak Scots? i certainly have to raise my eyebrow at that-- although, perhaps, it does sort of relate to the question of reviving a dead/dying language.... is there any way to do that authentically or is it always going to be an outsider doing reconstruction?
3. what does it mean that the bad guys (well, some of them anyway, because the Faither is certainly a bad guy too-- he and the Doctor ultimately probably end up being more similar that different) are the ones speaking in English, ie they are the easiest to understand? maybe there is something there about how it does take effort to understand one another, that we cannot always easily understand people who mean well. and maybe the reader should feel strange that we can't easily read the children/the good guys-- should there be more of an effort put into understanding Belarusian for those who don't speak it, etc?
4. only bit of this i didn't love was the insertion of the poems. obviously i love me a good poem and enjoyed reading them, i just didn't always feel like they were adding much to the text? they were more interesting to me as separate bits of literature. also. the glossary was ass... only helpful sometimes and other times the words they defined were super obvious? not sure why/how certain words were changed.
5. a bunch of people in my class found this to be too uncomfortable or problematic (on both the level of content and translation) and like.... sorry? idk? sometimes difficult subject matters happen in books i don't know what to tell ya. actually one of my biggest pet peeves is when people dismiss artwork because something about it makes them uncomfortable.... tricky subject matter doesn't not necessarily mean an endorsement of it, but what do i know? 🙄
8. i found Avi to be SUCH a well done metaphor, pointing out the importance of Jewish culture in Belarus. that's part of why the Faither's project fails-- because he cannot embrace this fact and in fact views himself in opposition to it in some ways. (based on the assumption that Avi is a golem)
7. overall, i found this exciting and innovative. love the story, respect the translation effort, and adore the writing. really beautiful and such a page turner for me.
a few quick thoughts, mostly concerning translation:
1. such an insane translation. i think, frankly, there was no perfect way to translate this text but i honestly found this to be as effective as possible. maintains imperial-to-endangered language element and while the Scots is Extremely challenging to read, it's quite rewarding/engaging. it's cool to see how you are able to get faster and faster reading this.
2. i do find it extremely odd that the Scots translator doesn't actually speak Scots? i certainly have to raise my eyebrow at that-- although, perhaps, it does sort of relate to the question of reviving a dead/dying language.... is there any way to do that authentically or is it always going to be an outsider doing reconstruction?
3. what does it mean that the bad guys (well, some of them anyway, because the Faither is certainly a bad guy too-- he and the Doctor ultimately probably end up being more similar that different) are the ones speaking in English, ie they are the easiest to understand? maybe there is something there about how it does take effort to understand one another, that we cannot always easily understand people who mean well. and maybe the reader should feel strange that we can't easily read the children/the good guys-- should there be more of an effort put into understanding Belarusian for those who don't speak it, etc?
4. only bit of this i didn't love was the insertion of the poems. obviously i love me a good poem and enjoyed reading them, i just didn't always feel like they were adding much to the text? they were more interesting to me as separate bits of literature. also. the glossary was ass... only helpful sometimes and other times the words they defined were super obvious? not sure why/how certain words were changed.
5. a bunch of people in my class found this to be too uncomfortable or problematic (on both the level of content and translation) and like.... sorry? idk? sometimes difficult subject matters happen in books i don't know what to tell ya. actually one of my biggest pet peeves is when people dismiss artwork because something about it makes them uncomfortable.... tricky subject matter doesn't not necessarily mean an endorsement of it, but what do i know? 🙄
8. i found Avi to be SUCH a well done metaphor, pointing out the importance of Jewish culture in Belarus. that's part of why the Faither's project fails-- because he cannot embrace this fact and in fact views himself in opposition to it in some ways. (based on the assumption that Avi is a golem)
7. overall, i found this exciting and innovative. love the story, respect the translation effort, and adore the writing. really beautiful and such a page turner for me.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 19, 2025
This work uses the story of two children to make a point about language. The point is that as fewer and fewer people speak a language it will become extinct. The work, in it's original Belorussian/Russian, has Belorussian as the language going extinct. In the translation Scotch Gaelic replaces Belorussian and English replaces Russian. In the notes from the translator, Petra Reid, this is pointed out. The problem is that reading the Scotch Gaelic, even with translators notes at the bottom of the page, is hard. But once you get through three to four pages of the Scotch it becomes natural and, I at least, did not need the notes as many of the words could be figured out from the context clues and the little bit of of Gaelic that has been passed down in our family, mostly from my grandma Joy. The scary part of this work is realizing that the death of a language, Belorussian or Scotch Gaelic also means the death of a culture. With the death of a culture we also loose the stories, folk tales, dances, music, art etc. All that lose is rather unnerving and also sad. Sad that these items will be lost forever except at indigenous round ups or fetes where the "old" traditions are reborn, but are they actually the old traditions or are they what the current speakers, dancers, musicians, and story tellers think these traditions are. The moral of the whole work? Think about what will go extinct if we keep demanding that every one fall in line with what the people in power say and do. More immediate, can Belorussian and also by extension Scotch Gaelic, be saved?
April 24, 2024
Two kids fighting the societal concept of linguistic rights and justice when all they really want to do is look for berries and candy. A dizzying tale about what happens when two languages meet but one has significantly more power than the other.
This novel aims to make commentary on the Belarusian-Russian language struggle by using a brilliant Scots-English translation. I must say, even though I was in awe as a linguist, I was truly, fully lost at most points (but isn’t that the whole point??!?!).
This novel aims to make commentary on the Belarusian-Russian language struggle by using a brilliant Scots-English translation. I must say, even though I was in awe as a linguist, I was truly, fully lost at most points (but isn’t that the whole point??!?!).
January 21, 2022
I give a 4 to the parts I understood and digested, I liked the premise and the commentary on language. I did struggle with some of the Scots and poetry so feel would lean more to 3.5 because of that. I also felt the translators’ decision to inject poems from Scottish folklore probably changed the original story and almost made it into something new
Read
September 13, 2024i don’t think i understood this so i’m not going to rate it. it was an allegory for holding onto native languages but through the brain of a small child? i don’t really know. Anyway: read around the world challenge Belarus
wanted-to-like-but
December 22, 2022Book Riot Read Harder Challenge 2023 Task #10: Read a book you know nothing about based solely on the cover.
March 7, 2023
“But then translation is a way of avenging yourself on language for what it has done . . . Because there’s no end to it, and because it’s so powerful”
April 5, 2023
DNF! Sorry! I thought I could hack it bc I have an ear for the Scots but it was too heavy + sound/location mismatch + too many epigraphs + doing fantasy stuff took me out of it.
Read
July 23, 2023gave up at p112
August 26, 2023
Not an easy read but worth the time you need to put in.
October 31, 2023
over half this book is typed out scottish accents which were totally illegible for me. I get why that's there, but it just didn't work
December 24, 2023
idk if the slog was worth it for the few good passages
May 4, 2025
genuinely what the hell
Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews