Sometimes I think learning languages might be the greatest reading superpower
Sometimes I wish I could read every book in its original language.
Don't get me wrong I have immense respect for translators. Translation is one of the reasons literature is accessible to so many people, and without it I'd never have been able to read most of the books I love. Learning a new language well enough to read literature is an enormous challenge, and translators bridge that gap for millions of readers.
Still, I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to read the exact words an author wrote. Not an interpretation of them, however faithful, but the sentences as they first appeared on the page. The rhythms, the nuances, the cultural references, the little details that might be impossible to carry over perfectly into another language.
I only know three languages myself, so reading everything in its original form is obviously impossible for me. Yet the idea of understanding different languages and experiencing their literature as it was originally written feels incredibly beautiful.
Maybe the difference isn't always huge. Maybe a great translation captures 95% of the experience. But there's something fascinating about the thought that every language contains entire worlds of meaning, humor, emotion, and beauty that are uniquely its own.