Most science fiction fans are familiar with the idea of universal translators. It’s a great literary device when I’m just looking to shrug off the idea that people speak different alien languages.
But what if I’m interested in adding narrative color to an interaction? How do I show the uniqueness of a culture through language?
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Basic Building Blocks for Differentiating Alien Language
First, let’s talk about the backbone of language: nouns and verbs.
A noun plus a verb makes a sentence. And when that sentence is “Theo skates,” it seems pretty straightforward to translate those two words into their direct equivalents. But this is where I begin to unravel the linguistic norms I typically take for granted.
One thing I talked about in a previous chat about designing languages is that phonology is not universal. The “th” sound, for instance, is not common in every language. So, when I’m looking to show diversity through alien language, I think about what a speaker of a different alien language hears when their universal translator approximates “Theo” in their language.
And, even more interestingly, what does another species, with different oral pathways hear?
On a narrative level, I like to play with this idea. I use it as a bit of fun: Replacing correct pronunciations with silly ones.
But also, I like to use it for dramatic effect. Perhaps offense is taken when a name is not spoken precisely. Or a verbal contract is nullified with mispronunciations. This is also a chance to narratively suggest pitfalls in certain characters relying on alien language translators that are unable to correct errors before offense is taken.
I also like to explore the chaos of mistranslating verbs when writing about cultures I’ve built to have different technologies.
Back to the example of “Theo skates.”
What if this sentence was being said to a character who’s not familiar with using wheels or blades for personal transport? Or, what if a variant like “Theo skis” is used? For a character who lives on a tropical planet where snow is a foreign concept, I can use one untranslatable word to show the vast difference in character experience.
Alien Language Translation of Idioms and Literal Phrases
People use a shocking number of idioms. This is not just true in English; idioms are a common communication shorthand for several languages.
The interesting thing about this, narratively, is: What does an alien language translator think about an idiom the first time it hears it? Even the most sophisticated AI is likely to be stumped by “break a leg” or “by the skin of your teeth.”
Chances are–at least at first–artificial intelligence would take these turns of phrase literally. And I love that idea.
There’s nothing like having one character have to explain an idiom to another. Writers commonly use these confusing explanations as comic relief. And while I do that, too, I also like to explore idiom explanations as a means of showing what types of things are so important to a people that they’ve encoded them into their everyday language.
The two idioms above, for instance, can be used to explain to someone that a culture has a lot of superstition surrounding theatrical productions and that a society, historically, has strong religious influences.
Alien Language Translation, Sentiment, and Subtext
Tone of voice is one of the areas I find most challenging to play with. I’ve said, “fine” enough times in my life to know the multitude of meanings that word can have. It can run the gamut from “unwell” to “great” depending on how the speaker says it.
And in my Drifting Amalgams universe, one of the species has three voice boxes. Imagine how many meanings a single word could have if you could say it while striking a chord.
This linguistic nuance is also likely to stump an AI at first, so it can be narratively intriguing when someone can effectually have two conversations simultaneously while saying one thing.
These are just some of the ways an alien language translator can miss the mark–and how I like to narratively exploit that weakness.
Until next time, keep creating.
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