For those of us born into an English-language culture, it is nearly impossible to empathize with someone born and raised in the bubble of the Hungarian tongue. How can we empathize with the frustration of not being able to communicate a thought or feeling, clearly expressed through a Hungarian word, but for which no word exists in English? Imagine if there was no word that captured and encapsulated ‘love’? How would we begin to explain love’s intricacies, complexities and nuances to an outsider, especially if you had no choice but to explain it in a second language?
This phenomenon is not exclusive to the Hungarian language. There are many languages where literal translations are not possible. But with the Hungarian language being genuinely unique, intricate (a.k.a difficult) and distinct, it surely leaves its speakers feeling isolated from neighbours and disconnected from the outside world; companionless in a world where, through use of their language, they believe they are better equipped to describe the indescribable, explain the unexplainable and, as is often criticized by the outsider, find art in the long-winded exploration of nuance.
While we western-English speakers often wish Hungarians would get to the point, it seems the Hungarians are more interested in the ride than the destination.
A reader send me an email on the differences with the Hungarian language and given that he is a Hungarian who lived many years in the United States, he provides a credible comparison. “…the language is really beautiful and romantic. An example is feleségem (wife -the other half of me). I know English better and French sounds good – but Hungarian FEELS good! My first wife was American and my second wife was Hungarian (she passed away 4 years ago) and I can truthfully say that you haven’t lived till you have been in bed with the Hungarian language! English in comparison is, to put it in one word, clumsy.”
Many of us have heard people say, “You can’t tell a Hungarian anything.” Perhaps it’s just in the telling that creates the problem. We’re clumsy.
Living within the loneliness of language, Hungarians occupy a similarly isolating spot of geography. Proudly called ‘the centre of Europe’, in reality, her locale also leaves her alienated. With her back to the mountains and facing the steppes, she does not occupy the most desirable piece of geo-political real estate. Behind her is the West, it’s elusive wealth and the rest of Christendom. Facing her, the gates to Eurasia with its Mongols, Turks, Islam and her former ‘friend’, Russia. Certainly, these are prime ingredients in a recipe to loneliness. (That, and an open invitation to unwanted guests who have a habit of over-staying their welcome.)
Jan Mainka, publisher of the Budapest Times, wrote an interesting and insightful editorial (“Too dependent on others to bring success” May 04). Joining the EU promised to welcome Hungary to the economic table, not as a dinner ingredient but as a fellow diner. It seems even in this new ‘friendship’, Hungary is very much on her own and one cannot help but think of the recurring theme of Hungary’s loneliness.
Not that long ago, Hungary had the Soviet Union. Now, the European Union.
Some Hungarians might be reminded of an old Russian joke about change of leadership: “Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.” Personally, I would take the EU over the USSR any day. Yet in either domain, Hungary appears alone. And it may be lonely at the top but it’s much lonelier at the bottom.
When in distress, a ship will fly her flag upside down. It is not without irony that doing so with the EU flag makes no difference at all.
Hi William, You’ve described the Hungarian-English problem very, very well. I lived in Budapest for 4 years and one of the things that attracted me was the musicality of the language. Though I only acquired sufficient Hungarian to go about my daily life, I did get a taste for joy Hungarian’s have in speaking their mother tongue. Enjoy your time in Budapest. It’s a wonderful city and a beautiful country, in spite of the litter.