Italics, Other Languages, and You

There is an ongoing debate on whether and how to use italics for non-English words in English text. This used to be convention, most often in speech, and sometimes for words in the narrative.

Bonjour, Madame, I am Inspector Blanc of the Sureté .”

I piled my plate high with tamales, frijoles refritos, and chile con carne.

This convention is now changing, and it’s worth having a serious think about what you’re doing and why.

First, watch this video by Daniel José Older (who I believe started the current drive to reconsider italicisation) right now. Go on, watch it, it’s less than two minutes long and funny.  

Older’s point is that speakers who drop non-English words into their speech aren’t suddenly talking differently. If you say you’re having tamales for dinner, even if you pronounce it with a Spanish accent, it’s still just part of your connected flow of speech. This is inarguable when it comes to a character speaking (or their point of view narration) if the words are familiar to them.

Let’s do a quick test to clarify this point. What if any words would you italicise in the following?

  1. We went to a karaoke bar and Jim sang ‘As Time Goes By’ because he fancies himself as Sam out of Casablanca.
  2. “What?! He can do a sudoku puzzle in twelve seconds?!”
  3. Breakfast is a croissant, lunch is a cheese baguette, dinner is steak with mange-tout, cavolo nero, and chips, with creme caramel for pudding.

I am prepared to bet that in no. 1 you italicised Casablanca because it’s the title of a film, but not karaoke. I’d further guess that in no. 2 you considered italicising  ‘what’ and/or ‘twelve seconds’ because of (or to replace) the punctuation, but not sudoku. And I will put cash money that you didn’t hit up anything at all in no.3. (If you did and are English, please rethink.)

Let’s just try that last one styled for foreign words:

Breakfast is a croissant, lunch is a cheese baguette, dinner is steak with mange-tout, cavolo nero, and chips, with creme caramel for pudding.

That looks utterly laughable to me because those words are part of my vocabulary, absorbed into English. (I mean, really absorbed. I know several people who say mange-tout with the first part to rhyme with ‘flange’ and the second to rhyme with ‘out’.) Karate, sushi, ninja, tsunami: would you italicise any of them? Of course you wouldn’t. And if you did, you’d be actively impeding the average reader, who simply would not expect to see these common words set apart like that.

Italicising marks text as different. If you’re writing a Roman gladiator’s POV and you have him talking about his gladius, that makes me think the weapon is unfamiliar to him as well as me.

As a retiarius—a fighter styled on a fisherman—I carried a tridens, a three-pronged spear, a rete or weighted net in which to trap my opponents, and a puglio, a small dagger.

This style of historical writing makes people lose the will to live. Let’s try it in a more familiar context, shall we?  

As an author, or writer of books, I work at a keyboard, a device on which I type words, while drinking a lot of tea (the characteristic hot beverage of my people, imported from faraway lands), and futzing about on Twitter, an internet site from hell, or place of eternal damnation.

Do I sound like a demented anthropologist? So does your gladiator. I don’t believe in a professional fighter who holds his weapon at mental arm’s length like it’s a foreign object. Find a more elegant way to drop in the explanations, and make your reader feel like they’re in the world, not sitting outside it. You want your reader to be absorbed in your story; italicising shoves them out.

As with absolutely everything about the presentation of words on a page (grammar, punctuation, spelling), the purpose of setting text is to help convey the writer’s intention to the reader as clearly as possible. This trumps everything, particularly house style. The purpose of italics is to set text off—to indicate emphasis in speech:

You might be happy. I’m not.”

Or to mark out words as eg a title:

I watched Stand By Me last night

He sailed on the HMS Surprise.

Or to pick something out (as an alternative to quote marks)

In print publishing, pages are called folios and may be recto or verso, right or left.

And, yes, to mark foreign words in English.

The Latin name for magpie is Pica pica.

But as we have demonstrated above, just because a word is from another language, that doesn’t make it ‘foreign’ to the speaker/narrator/reader.

Italicising serves as a nudge to the reader that they’re not expected to recognise or understand a word. That act very much assumes who the reader is. If you italicise all your Spanish in a book written about Mexicans, that rather suggests you don’t expect your book to be read by Mexicans. It is othering—and in many cases that can look like saying, “Those people are different from me and you, the writer and the reader.”

Of course, that might be what you want. If you’re writing a character who has been shipwrecked in 18th-century Japan, you might well go for italics as deliberate distancing to show how strange the new world is to your protagonist.

The people here wear a loose garb which they call kimono.

You might want to mark up as ‘foreign’ for other reasons too. I have a scene in my book Band Sinister where the heroes discuss Latin poetry and vocabulary while getting hot and heavy. (This is one of the sex scenes I am proudest of, thank you.) I went back and forth on it, and eventually put the Latin in italics because, frankly, it’s a sex scene and I wanted readers to be able to skim over the Latin words with a mental [sexy classical stuff here] if need be, so as not to hold things up.

But Latin is a dead language. Spanish is not. If you mark up your Spanish text with italics, are you saying the reader can just fill in [foreign chatter here]?

Obviously it’s not always straightforward in practice. The Filipino romance collective #romanceclass has developed a policy of not italicising Tagalog words. However, there’s a recurring issue with the word ‘ate’, which means ‘big sister’ and is one of those kinship words used widely. If you read #romanceclass books (and you really should) you might come across a sentence like

Has your ate eaten? / Have you eaten, Ate Mina?

That could trip up an English reader, severely if it’s their first meeting with the word, and for about 1.4 seconds if they are a #romanceclass aficionado. It’s enough of an issue that authors consciously look out for workarounds and change their phrasing. Does that mean it might be better to italicise after all?

As a (white English) reader, I don’t want that. I read Filipino romance because, along with fantastic love stories, a great range of characters and topics, and the best ever Evil Ex Girlfriend getting her own book, I additionally get the privilege to swim in a world not my own for a while. I can sit in the grey concrete drizzle that is London and be absorbed into Manila. I don’t want the process of reading the book to constantly remind me ‘Hey, you aren’t a part of this, it’s foreign to you’—even when I don’t know specific words. I want it to be not foreign to me. That’s why I read.

And of course that’s a perspective of English privilege. It surely means a great deal more to Filipino readers to see their words and language belonging on the page like any others, not marked out as different or special or foreign.

None of this is intended to get at people who have books full of non-English in italics. My early books all do; it’s been convention for ever. The point is to think about it now and, as we go forward, to open up our horizons and consider our impact, and judge cases on their individual qualities, not as a blanket house style issue. Mina V. Esguerra of #romanceclass says,

Sometimes it’s like each new book comes with a new choice regarding this, and as authors and editors we make the call and then evaluate later if it was the right one. We’re aware that each Tagalog word we don’t translate and italicize becomes part of the vocabulary our readers will learn, and we take that seriously.

And there’s the heart of it. If we (and I especially mean here white people from English-speaking countries) italicise words solely because they’re ‘foreign’ we make a subconscious decision to set them apart, to keep them out rather than taking them in to ourselves. Let’s think hard before we do that, to words or to people.  


Big thanks to Mina V. Esguerra for her help with this piece!

3 replies
  1. Elin
    Elin says:

    I’ll bear this in mind as I re-do On a Lee Shore. Every single italic was stripped out of it by the previous publisher post proofing because, apparently, in the US they don’t use italics for ship names so all the internal monologue, emphasis, curses in French, Spanish and Welsh went too. Now I can be a bit more mindful about which I put back (though I bet some readers think duw, uffern, carwr, and cwrw are typos).

  2. Roxana
    Roxana says:

    I love the post, and the points are quite valid. Everything said below comes from a desire to offer a perspective from the POV of a non-native English speaker who translates into Romanian, which is very different from English in a number of ways. Romanian italicizes, too, but the rules make me ponder about neologisms and more as part of my day job.

    You can have things such as (I hope the italics show):

    “- Nice… Pa! Să ai grijă de tine.” („[“Nice” in English]… Bye! Take care.”


    “- Și fă ceva cu machiajul ăla. Arăți ca un clovn. Corset roșu și fard mov? Please!” (“And do something about that make-up. You look like a clown. A red corset and purple eye shadow? [“Please” in English]”

    (The quotes are taken from “Fluturi” by Irina Binder, one of the more infamous books published in Romania in the past decade)

    The dialogue reflects real-life speech. We actually do pepper our dialogue with English – sometimes with straight-out English, as above (we have our own words for “Nice” and “Please”, obviously). Everybody knows those words, but we still italicize them. At other times, some words in English with perfectly good equivalents in Romanian become buzzwords, especially in corporations (“content”, “planning”, “time management” – I’ve never seen these outside of business). Buzzwords aren’t italicized. Sometimes, they become specialized – like “binging”, which came to mean “watch a lot of episodes of a TV show in a single session”. These aren’t italicized, either? Then there are straight-up imports, not italicized, like “creepy”, which is a feeling that can be described in Romanian, but not through a single word; or “meme”, which is too new to have a word of its own.

    “When does a word become non-foreign?” is a very important question here, because Romanian conjugates a lot and, like French, it assigns grammatical gender to all nouns. It’s never a matter of simply strapping an “s” to the end of the word to make it plural, and “the” before it when needed.

    Also, I have to add, as cultural context, that words are imported through cultural means, like American movies, Brazilian telenovelas, Turkish soaps, Japanese novels and other such. We don’t have too many immigrants.

    What happens to a loanword is that, initially, it is imported as-is, but, if it sticks around long enough, it starts adapting to Romanian grammar and, sometimes, to Romanian spelling, which is meant to reflect pronunciation – thus, “sandwich” became “sendviș/sandviș/sandvici”, depending on who is pronouncing it how, but it’s been made our own. The aforementioned “meme” started out pronounced the English way, but it *looks* like a Romanian feminine plural noun, and soon began being read that way. It acquired an appropriate singular form, and is now thoroughly Romanianized.

    To me, italics mean, “this word is foreign and treated as such”. If I see “meme” in italics, I’m assuming it’s the English-pronounced singular (and that, if the speaker is Romanian, they’ll go for a neutral sort of plural – “meme-uri”). But if it’s not italicized, it’s probably the Romanian-pronounced plural (which would have the singular „memă”).

    Fun, right? (Not for me at work; there’s no winning with the newest loanwords. Some people see a word as thoroughly imported, while for others it’s foreign. It’s hard to know on which side to err for grammar purposes.)

    The point is. Well. Every choice is challenged with, “how do people say this?”, “how familiar is it?”, “how will this evolve in time?”, “how does it work in context?”

    The way I see it, italicizing reflects several things:
    – how foreign the word is (including pronunciation)
    – the fact that the word is still foreign to the speakers
    – the fact that the word is perceived as foreign by the people hearing them

    So, in your “tamale” example – if you, an English woman in an English setting in a novel about British people, are eating “a tamale”, it’s definitely not italicized, because that’s the English loanword. If you’re careful about Spanish grammar and having “a tamal”, pronounced the Spanish way, that would be italicized.

    If you were having the Romanian dish “sarmale”, and you were going to grab “more sarmales”, I would not italicize it, since “sarmale” is already plural for us, but you Englishized it and added your own plural marker.

    If I, as a Romanian, would be having “fish and chips” in a novel that has me speaking mostly Romanian around Romanians of a more conservative sort, I’d italicize it, because I’m not translating it as the Romanian equivalent „pește cu cartofi prăjiți”/”pește cu chipsuri”, nor am I having “fiș en cips”/„fișencips”, which is how I’d spell “fish ‘n chips” phonetically in Romanian. This could be a sign that I’m reading a restaurant menu, or that I’m trying to impress people with my exotic dish made at home, or simply with my use of excellent English.

    If, in the novel, I were perceived from the outside by a nationalist Romanian who hates new English words because “they signal our nation’s downfall”, they would probably italicize even things like “gameri” (“gamers”), to prove that I’m part of the degenerate youth selling our ancestral legacy for the fool’s gold of global empires.

    It’s all about perspective, I think.

    So in your Filipino example, I say: are those words commonly used like that by them and their circle? Because if they’re describing things that they are used to, and that are normal for them, then there’s no need to italicize – the readers might be foreign, but you can’t know that. You honestly cannot say who is reading your novel – I have no idea what a “cavolo nero” is, aside from the fact that it’s probably black, since I recognize that word’s Latin root. If you’re not italicizing it, then that is normal to your character and their circle. If you are italicizing it, then it’s foreign, or unusual, or it is perceived otherwise than straightforwardly.

    The narrative perspective is the one that counts – so you can have “sushi” italicized, if it’s used from the POV of a grandmother who has never seen it before, for whom sushi is a new, exotic, foreign experience. “We had sushi, like my granddaughter wanted.”

    And here’s the example that’s been on my mind for the past few minutes – what if you have an English novel in which a Romanian says, “I’ve spent all weekend in front of my TV, doing binging, you know?” Your word is handed back to you. You think you know what it means, but do you? It’s oddly used, and it’s italicized – who knows, who knows…

  3. Karen
    Karen says:

    *I have a scene in my book Band Sinister where the heroes discuss Latin poetry and vocabulary while getting hot and heavy. (This is one of the sex scenes I am proudest of, thank you.)*



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