This debut novel is written by a Bookseller at one of the UK’s leading independent bookshops (Mr B’s Emporium – the type of shop I wish existed in Surrey – a home of opinionated and passionate bookselling) who is also a climate change/ecological activist (and one of the leading figures of the now-dissolved Birth Strike movement).

Further the author grew up with two first languages (Spanish and Swedish) and writes in a third – English and I think has spent time in South America before a Literature degree in Gothenburg and a MSc in Edinburgh.

The book is set in Edinburgh and features a young couple – Kristin and Ciaran and is predominantly written in the first person by Kristin but addressed to Cairan.

Kristin is a Swedish immigrant. She works at a immersive historical exhibition at a fictional Museum of (Scottish) Immigration in Edinburgh Castle – in which different people groups play the roles of their original forbears (for example a group of Lithuanian miners and Italian restauranters). Kristin and some fellow Scandinavians play Vikings – Kristin plays a character Solveig (and at one stage in the book the narrative briefly changes to a third party viewpoint of Solveig voiced by Kristin).

“We are examples. Joanne Tarbuck says, here to symbolise one of the many Peoples who made Scotland what it is, and to celebrate its rich cultural multiplicity”

The quirk of the exhibit is that the employees are required to speak only in their native language and pretend not to understand any questions from tourists in English – they are even meant to spend 20 minutes before starting work in isolation in a personal Translation Room (often say a small office or even a toilet cubicle) to leave their English speaking behind and mentally revert to their native language. This is course picks up on ideas of language barriers, and assimilation or language ghettos.

Ciaran was born into a Brazilian orphanage but adopted from there in Scotland as a child. He is a care worker doing home visits to the elderly – but also a passionate activist for climate change (and related causes) and with a hobby as a preserver of animals.

The situation of the book is that Ciaran suddenly decides to learn Swedish in reaction to the news that Kristin is in the early stages of pregnancy – and throws himself at it in a fully immersive way (watching and listening to Swedish radio and television, seeking Bergman films, putting post it notes on household objects) – and this immediately introduces tension in the relationship as Kristin, seeing Swedish speaking as her job, wants to only speak English at home which takes away a key part of the immersive experience for Ciaran.

Cairan’s enthusiasm for Swedish – and the mapping of his interest in the preservation of animals and his views on the extinction rebellion, to the preservation of language ….

A question for you: in the great range of Great danger, how high do you think an endangered language ranks, especially if it’s not really endangered, only its ego.

… leaves him, ostensibly a left wing activist, naively (and to Kristin’s disgust) voicing the views of (what she realises are extreme right-wing) Swedish groups on the preservation of Swedish from American/English influences. And to watch documentaries “about the fifteenth century, when Sweden was a European super-power” – again ironical from someone you know (without being told) would be much more attuned to misplaced nostalgia for British imperialism.

Ciaran’s studies though does cause Kristin to reflect on the quirks of English (with a particular emphasis on expressions she finds misleading – for example being sick which she sees as expelling sickness) and to reexamine her native Swedish (with a particular emphasis here on the etymology of compound words – as with all native speakers the make-up of these is far less obvious than it is to non native speakers).

The text often features Swedish and English side by side as Kristin puts the languages and her own response to them alongside each other – interestingly sometimes words are missed from the translation – particularly towards the end. Those I Googled seemed mainly about mothers and children (which I think draws on the ambiguity of both Kristin and Cairan to parenthood – the latter voices some of the ideas behind the author’s Birth Strike) although I suspect other omissions pick pu different themes.

At work tension exists between the different people groups – competing for example over the popularity of their exhibits and who gets to lead the annual parade through the festival. Kristin proposes that her character becomes pregnant which leads to her manager buying a convincing “fat suit” and some of the other groups stealing the idea albeit with knock-off versions of the suit – and again the ideas of parenthood and conflict over it come out as well as the ideas of cultural identity and rivalry.

So as I hope the introduction shows this is a book that brings a myriad of admirable opinions and influences to bear on its writing. And I hope also how my review gives some ideas on how these map to this unusual book and how the novel explores issues such as language, communication and cultural identity.

Conceptually then the book is excellent - but I felt the execution was lacking. I simply did not enjoy reading the book anywhere near as much as reviewing it (as an aside that also went for half the Booker shortlist this year).

The issue for me here is that the ideas simply did not coalesce into what I found a convincing or coherent form – I felt like the novel was always slipping away from me. Further Cairan feels an undeveloped character (particularly his heritage) while the interactive exhibit which comes to dominate the book felt to often somewhere between far-fetched and farcical.

Nevertheless a fascinating if flawed debut novel from what I think will turn out to be a very interesting author.

You know how sometimes, you just don't "get" a book? Well, for me this was one of those. I enjoyed it, I loved the bits of Swedish, I delighted in the translation quirks, but it remained altogether separate.... I didn't feel a connection or emotional involvement. I'm not saying don't read it, but it's not one I would tell you to rush out and buy.

Thanks to the publishers and Netgalley for the advance copy.

Technical hitch detected, the review wouldn't post directly to Goodreads, so I've copy/pasted.

I love reading books about other languages, or with parts written in other languages, even though it makes me feel like I should try to pick up my Spanish again, or that I should remember any French vocab at all. Only speaking one language is really very boring. Ha.

How We Are Translated is about a couple living in Edinburgh; 24-year-old Kristin, who immigrated from Sweden five years ago, and her boyfriend Ciaran, who grew up in Scotland after being adopted from Brazil as a toddler. A potential pregnancy means that their relationship is shifting into something neither of them feels quite adult enough for, and they both deal with it in different ways. Kristin throws herself into her job, as a living history exhibition at the Castle, allowed to speak only in Swedish during working hours, playing the character of Solveig, the Viking’s wife. Ciaran decides that he will learn Swedish to better understand Kristin, immersing himself in a språkbad language bath, covering their small flat with post-its and reading newspapers he doesn’t yet understand. 

I loved Kristin’s interactions at her job and how her job bled into her life outside of it, the way that it made her native language — a language she doesn’t share with anyone immediately around her — feel like a job in itself. The book is written mostly in the second person, as Kristin addresses her thoughts throughout the day towards Ciaran. It’s full of small observations which make both Kristin and whoever she’s talking about feel more fully realised, and the little bilingual segments add another layer to the relationships between characters. 

I really enjoyed this — and can we just have a moment to bask in that BEAUTIFUL cover? 

Out in February, thanks @scribe_uk & #netgalley for the early copy!

As a French national living in Scotland, I thought I'd be able to relate a lot but was rather disappointed. Although the reflections on language are astute, as mentioned by other readers, the novel as a whole is relatively confusing. I also found the scenes and characters pertaining to Kirsten's job in particular rather over the top. It's a shame because I still enjoyed some of the humour as well as the style, but I found the whole too inconsistent.

I couldn't really get into this book - which is a shame as it sounds like it should be right up my street. Maybe I'll give it another go sometime and see if I can make more headway. For the moment I will leave it part read and try something else before going back to it.

It took me a long time to get into the swing of this book and I almost abandoned it, but about a quarter of the way through (certainly when we see Kristin/Solveig at work in The Castle) it began to come alive for me. I enjoyed her interaction with her colleagues and the whole concept of ‘living history’ using exclusively native languages kept me turning the pages - her relationship with her Brazilian/Scottish partner not so much. I kept hoping there would be some more meaningful insights into the immigrant experience but was disappointed there. A confusing read, particularly in the dialogue, and if nothing else I’ve taken away some interesting ideas about the Swedish language and how it does and doesn’t always easily translate into English.

This is one of those books that is hard to review and rate because there is nothing else quite like it to compare it too. One of the most bizarrely quirky books I’ve read in a long time. I think it’s a bit like marmite, you’re either going to hate it or find you just can’t put it down. It definitely drew me in.

The book takes place inside the mind of a Swedish woman living in Edinburgh. It is hard to tell how much of a reliable narrator she is as there are quite a lot of contradictions. She has a job in which she must translate but also pretend to not understand English, her partner decides to put in himself on a personal intensive Swedish learning week shut inside his own home and collects animals in jars and she may or may not be pregnant. While there is not much of a plot- there is quite a lot of intrigue and I enjoyed some of the use of language and the idea that there are things that are cultural specific and just don’t translate or might translate as something else.

This is really a book of themes. Themes of belonging, connectedness, language and the things that unite or divide us, making the reader question how arbitrary these are? Can they be overcome or not? Are we separated entirely by being completely in our own heads and individual consciousness? Can we ever truly understand each other and what is it really that prevents barriers to this?

Not sure how much I liked this book but I did thoroughly enjoy the experience of reading it and found myself repeatedly drawn to pick it up and read on. Very interested to hear peoples reactions to this one and any further work by the author.

Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for giving me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

How We Are Translated is an intriguing title - especially to those interested in languages - and it makes you consider the narrator's actions in a certain way throughout the book. A well-chosen title that says something about how the main character perceives her boyfriend’s obsession with learning Swedish, but also about how she feels stuck in - but can’t escape - her work life.

Kristin feels like a different person depending on the language she speaks and the language that is spoken to her. When she is Solveig, the character she impersonates at work, the visitors of the living history exhibit take her words and actions in a certain way and translate her in a way she is not. The same thing happens at home with her boyfriend, though in this case, it is obvious that they mistranslate each other. 

When a question comes up in either her work life or private life, the situation is mirrored in the other. Both Kristin and her boyfriend are stuck between worlds, trying to find out who they are alone and together, but also who they should be in the future. The perfect translation is still a long way off.

What I appreciate about How We Are Translated is how their struggles are subtly shown in the way Kristin describes her days. It is in the soft and loving thoughts she has about her boyfriend, but also in the small gestures that they both make. Jessica Gaitán Johannesson wrote a multi-dimensional character that is struggling with her identity. Who is she? Who will she be in the future?

Unfortunately, I have to continue this review by saying that I didn’t enjoy reading the book. This is mostly because of the way the story is told. The unpredictable narrative is refreshing at first, but gets tiresome after a while when you’re looking for something ‘whole’. When you can finally pinpoint what a certain paragraph is about, it switches to the next topic before you know the outcome or the next steps of the previous topic.

The narrative felt too shattered to me. Kristin addresses her boyfriend and not me, the reader. Perhaps if her boyfriend had read this book, they would have understood each other better. For me, there is no point in following her thoughts. A shorter glimpse would have been enough.

I feel neutral about the frequent use of Swedish words and sentences (all with English translations) in the book. I learned some Swedish, which is fun, but because of its frequency, I expected a stronger impact on the story. After a while I started to share Kristin’s sentiments about Swedish: “I do adore Swedish sometimes (as long as it stays where it is).” I do hope this was not the intended impact.

I finished the book with my thoughts as shattered as Kristin’s, and a strong hope for her to find a way to say hello to the future, especially if it happens today.

This book really confused me and I just couldn’t get into it - I could tell that it was trying to do something but honestly I just couldn’t feel what exactly that ‘something’ was. It was charming and innocent in many ways that at times made it a pleasant read, and honestly maybe it’s just me, but while I could tell it was trying to say something about the distance in language, I could never connect the dots and find the writing style to be a little confusing.

This is a quirky book that took me a little while to get it's rythym. Kristin, a Swedish woman, lives with Ciaran in Edinburgh. By day she is Solveig, part of Edinburgh Castles living history exhibit.
Ciaran is one of those people who throws himself into his projects. He decides he wants to learn Swedish and will only speak Swedish at home. For some reason this irritates Kristen, who then avoids helping him wherever possible. She also finds out she is pregnant.
The whole book is written from her viewpoint and we come across the strange and eclectic characters who are part of her life. Joanne Tarbuck, her boss, Ingrid and Algot who are her co-workers in the exhibit. The Lithuanians, the Irish and the odd bods around her home.
A strange book, but it drew me in and I enjoyed it.

This novel was supposed to be all about bilinguality and sounded very interesting, however in reality it wasn't all that.In my opinion it lacked wholesomeness and some kind of a structure. It all sounded like mumbling about nothing and there was no story line really. It did really irritate me how instead of s**t she used sheet and fick instead of f**k.I wouldn't even give it one star in all honesty.

This made no sense whatsoever. I was totally baffled by the writing style and could discern no plot beyond a person called Bobo, someone who is maybe pregnant and someone working in a care home. DNF.

The premise of this book, bilingualism and inter-language translation, appealed to me particularly as bilingualism is my academic field. The reality of the book however did not appeal. The short novel is set over a few days in the lives of Kristin and Ciaran, an ethnically and linguistically mixed couple living in Edinburgh. Kristin is probably pregnant and unsure what she want to do about this. Ciaran, in an attempt to connect with Kristin's cultural background, is trying to learn Swedish. Irritatingly (for both Ciaran and the reader) Kristin does not see the point of him doing this and won't help him in his endeavours. Parts of the novel were funny and I appreciated the commentary on the way languages work for different purposes but I feel this would have been much more enjoyable as a couple of short stories as other parts of the book were tedious at best. Kristin works in historic reenactment as a Viking woman - a little of this was relevant to the story but much of the work scenes seemed to me as if only there to pad out a thin tale.
Thanks to the publisher via Net Galley for sendng a complimentary ARC of this book in return for an honest review.

This book turned out to be one of the very few books I didn’t want to continue reading so my only feedback was that it really wasn’t for me.

No, sorry, this just didn't work for me at all, I'm afraid. The writing is rambling and chatty, the day headings make it sound like a diary but it's not really. This feels incomplete, striving to say something about language, understanding and misunderstanding, the bridges and spaces between people even when they love each other - but it's all fluff, lacking precision and substance. I get a sense of a voice circling around but unable to pin down what it wants to say. *Great* cover design, though.

Kristen is 24, Swedish and lives in Edinburgh with her black Scottish boyfriend, Ciaran. This novel is written largely in the second person, as she addresses her musings to him. It is about language and belonging and love. It isn't an easy book to get into and can be confusing at points, it is a literary novel based around language more than plot. I suspect that many readers will give up early, which is a shame as it is an interesting read.

Well this book is absolutely bloomin lovely! The writing style is my absolute favourite. It’s the tiny details and fascinating observations. So many quirks! Oh, the quirks. I’ve genuinely never loved characters more than this couple. (Even the acknowledgment page is lovely, that’s how far I wanted to keep reading!)

It’s written from the perspective of 24-year-old Kristin, a Swedish immigrant living with her Black boyfriend, Ciaran, in Edinburgh. It’s written almost as her diary to him. She writes “you said” and “you were” when talking about him, and she dissects the languages of both English and Swedish throughout. This somehow highlights their differences, struggles and harmonies perfectly, as they try to navigate through their thoughts and feelings to each other.

When we meet them they are 4 years into their relationship and they’re so different yet so in love. It’s beautiful the way Kristin studies Ciaran‘s actions and his body, you can feel the love seeping from the pages, even when she’s talking about his knobbly knees. It’s the way she hopes she’ll see his beard turn grey one day and that his creaky sinuses are nothing serious. They drive each other nuts, they overthink constantly, and I love them so, so much.

Picking a single favourite quote is impossible here. For the first time ever I’m doing 3:

“At about eleven pm I set about looking up all the old school friends I could find online to check if any of them had died or become neo-Nazis. You were getting ready for bed.”

“The end of July has always been my least favourite time of year anyway, because it sits in the throat of summer and refuses to be swallowed.”

“It’s a shame we don’t write emails to each other anymore. I liked re-reading the best things you say. I’m up for being a grown up with you, you wrote once. As if I’d asked you to give ficking pottery a go.”

Please let there be a second book coming. I need more of this!

How We Are Translated is out on the 2nd February 2021, thank you so much to Scribe UK for the arc!

How We Are Translated by Jessica Gaitan Johannesson is an insightful novel about relationships and language. Mostly I enjoyed it although I did find myself getting a bit confused at some points.