41 pages • 1 hour read
Laurie Halse AndersonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
That summer, Anderson works as a candy striper at a local hospital and narrowly escapes being assaulted by a man who works in the morgue. Anderson slowly improves her grades and attends school more regularly in 10th and 11th grade. She notes that, “kids living in war zones should get extra credit for just showing up” (84). Her parents don’t notice that she is still struggling and is often high. She begins to write poetry, like her father once did, and to read books about history and foreign cultures. Both of her parents are floundering in their alcoholism, and Anderson realizes, “no matter how much I loved my parents / my love could not fix them” (89). If she wishes to save herself from her parents’ fate, she knows she must leave home.
She is accepted to a foreign exchange program in Denmark for her senior year of high school. After begging her parents for the money to go, Anderson travels to Denmark, meeting friends from all over the world and learning Danish. Throughout the memoir, each poem title is written in both English and Danish when referring to this year of travel or the Danish language.
Anderson meets her host family, who live on a farm and who welcome her into their lives. They help her improve her Danish, patiently teaching her and reminding her that it is ok for her to make mistakes. Anderson attends a Danish high school, but she begins to feel homesick. Her host sister reminds her that her parents see the same moon at night as they can see in Denmark.
As winter rolls in, Anderson finds herself feeling at home on the farm and with her host family. She falls in love with the country and the language: “I stopped thinking English somewhen / in that winter / Danish filled my sleep and my waking” (108). When Anderson’s grandfather dies and the Three Mile Island nuclear accident occurs while she is abroad, Anderson despairs being so far away.
Anderson embraces the possibilities and pleasures that the Danish language provides her that aren’t always easily translated into English, one example being hygge, a Danish lifestyle revolving around remaining cozy and cheerful during harsh Scandinavian winters. She also allows herself to study and understand the scars left in Denmark, as well as other countries, by World War II, likening them to her own emotional scars: “scars may look stronger than unwounded skin, / but they’re not” (113). As her year abroad ends, Anderson and her peers work at a Danish archeological site before returning to the United States. She realizes that by learning Danish, she has actually found her voice again: “My home in Denmark taught me how to speak / again” (114). To escape her parents’ struggles and find herself, she needed to go somewhere else entirely. When she returns home to the United States, Anderson experiences culture shock and struggles to speak in English again.
Anderson’s family moved while she was abroad, and her parents’ alcoholism has worsened. Anderson comes home to find her mother trying to break apart her bed frame, telling her daughter she and her father will need to sleep separately from now on and that he is going to Boston for an undetermined amount of time. She does not tell Anderson why. He returns nine months later, appearing to be somewhat sober, but tensions between the two parents remain high.
Anderson takes a job milking cows at a farm. She barely speaks to her father upon his return, saying “it hurt / so much to love my father that I prayed / for a heart of stone” (127). However, he still does loving acts for her sometimes, and she can’t stop caring about him. Anderson, her sister, and her mother bond over the marriage of Princess Diana and Prince Charles, in one of the few times she can recall them all enjoying a fantasy together. While Anderson enjoys her job on a farm, she gets a job at the mall at a store her mother manages. This experience propels her to apply to Onondaga Community College. She works hard with the intention of transferring to a four-year college, eventually leaving to attend Georgetown in Washington, DC. Her entire family moves her into her dorm, and she is surprised by how much it hurts to say goodbye to them all.
While at Georgetown, Anderson studies linguistics while working 25 hours per week. She makes friends with a wealthy classmate but quickly realizes she looks down on her. Anderson also recollects near-misses in which male professors used flattery to try and coerce her into sex. One of these men, a department director, denies Anderson a scholarship to study abroad in Peru.
Despite many obstacles, she earns her degree and marries one of her classmates. Her time at Georgetown is a struggle, but, as she notes, “I was in way over my head at Georgetown / but at least I knew how to swim” (148). After her college graduation, Anderson becomes a reporter. One day, she is assigned to report on a sexual assault case, which results in the assailant walking free despite his obvious guilt. Years later, she is horrified to see the accused walking around a mall while she is shopping with her daughters.
Around this time Anderson also becomes a mother and tries to write children’s books but encounters only rejection. Her attempts to write adult fiction and non-fiction are similarly thwarted. She begins to dream in Danish and finds herself confusing Danish and English again. In these dreams, an old woman repeatedly says the Danish word spor, meaning footprints or animal tracks: “maybe she is future me, that old dame” (158). These nightmares happen night after night around the time Anderson’s oldest daughter starts middle school. One night, Anderson awakes and begins to write in the voice of a mute, crying girl who she says “needed an interpreter” (158). She works on the book Speak for a year, and it is rejected from the first publisher she sends it to. Fully expecting the work to continually be rejected, Anderson tells her reader that instead of following dreams, they ought to “follow your nightmares instead” (160), since they helped her when writing her novel.
Anderson recounts her young adulthood and journey as a writer and “interpreter” of stories, providing the reader with a foundation to understand her experiences, motivations, and interests that will eventually influence her while writing Speak. Her love of language and time spent studying abroad give her an appreciation for the vitality of words to understand her own story, while her work as a reporter gives her the skills necessary to weave facts into a narrative. Anderson also becomes a mother and gets the idea to keep writing for children like her daughters. It is her eldest daughter’s coming of age that spurs the nightmares that ultimately lead to Speak. Even her profoundly unsettling experiences with male professors pressuring her into sex influence her writing, particularly when she is considering vulnerable young women and the specter of objectification that follows them wherever they go.
Arguably, Anderson’s desire to travel and learn other languages saves her from suffering from the same fate as her parents. She engrosses herself in words and falls in love with the act of translation, whether it be translating between languages or translating experiences from her head to the page.
The reader is let in on the liminal space Anderson finds between experience and words, as well as between languages. This space is apparent in Anderson’s decision to translate all of the titles of her poems about her experience in Denmark into Danish—for example, “hvordan det begyndt / how it started” (98)—and on an individual line-level when Anderson is thinking in both languages and having difficulty switching between the two. She marks these occasions by either inserting the Danish words—for example, “it was easy / back home, but / at oversætte fra dans til fransk / shifting into French from Danish / overheated my brain (104-05)—or deliberately altering English words to sound slightly off-kilter, such as, “I stopped thinking in English somewhen / in that winter” (108). This is yet another way she uses poetic devices to her advantage, particularly enjambment, portmanteau, and switching from one language to another, to signal her own growth as a thinker and speaker. It makes her experience writing Speak make sense, particularly when she describes the act of writing the book as one of “translation,” taking a fictional teenager’s experience and writing it out for others in order to release the girl’s sense of shame.
Anderson writes candidly about her parents and allows for a fair amount of mystery about their actions. As she alludes to in her Introduction and Prelude, while she may not have understood the gravity of their situations in the moment, she is able to see the truth and convey it now. She does this with tenderness, particularly in moments such as when her father hitchhikes with her to work. Despite the chaos and pain he has caused the family, Anderson cannot stop loving him or her mother. This dynamic adds an additional layer of complexity to the reader’s understanding of how shame, silence, violence, and love interact with one another, especially within families.
By Laurie Halse Anderson