‘New Finnish Grammar’ by Diego Marani

There is an important lesson to be learned here, and it is that one should not judge a book by its title. The flatness of the words New Finnish Grammar might instantly call to mind the dry and repetitious pages of a language learning textbook - as a recent Modern Languages BA dropout, I’ve had my fill of those - but what is concealed within the unassuming monochrome jacket is anything but tedious. Moreover, Diego Marani’s first novel, which has finally after almost ten years been translated into English from the original Italian text, is a rare and remarkable feat of both language and literature.

As I write this review of New Finnish Grammar I am in fact in Finland, sitting in a hotel room in the capital city of Helsinki, and so this particular text seemed like a wonderfully appropriate choice. The fact that I finished reading the book before landing at Helsinki-Vantaa, and probably before even entering Finnish airspace at all, is a true testament to the beguiling quality of Marani’s prose, which is beautiful in the purest sense of the word, dripping with imagery, and often highly poetic even when written in the epistolary form. 

When the Italian edition was published it scooped a plethora of prizes and propelled its author to celebrity-like status on the continent. This English translation has been brought out into the world thanks to the hard work and dedication of Dedalus, a small UK-based publishing house, as well as the careful attention of Oxford-educated translator Judith Landry, who has succeeded in staying faithful to Marani’s gorgeously fluid prose style.

It is difficult to provide a synopsis for New Finnish Grammar without doing the work a disservice; I am loath to leave anything out as it is almost impossible to summate the scope of Marani’s vision in so few words. It is still more difficult to compare this novel to any other published work, other than to say that there are nuances of Ian McEwan’s Atonement in that it deals with themes of regret, penance, and, more explicitly, the need to atone.

Furthermore the novel is a wonderful showcase of the dreamy and anomalous tongue that is the Finnish language. It is, from both literary and linguistic perspectives, a triumph; a subtle yet deeply affecting exploration of the relationship between one’s native language and oneself, and the symbiosis of language and identity.

This piece was originally published on alisonlaurabell.tumblr.com in September 2011.

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