The life and identity of Jean, a queer translator navigating an abusive marriage, are ever-changing in Arielle Burgdorf’s debut novel, Prétend.
Jean, who offers early on that she’s “not a citizen of anywhere in particular” but her closest place to “home” is Montreal, first meets Russian poet Konstantin in an Icelandic bar. Overlooking his controlling behavior, the two immediately hit it off and Jean, despite running out of money, decides to ditch her flight to the U.S., where she has a job lined up, to continue their budding romance.
“Money is no problem,” Konstantin tells her as they travel through Europe. Jean likens Konstantin’s financial security to an iron, “smoothing out all the troubles in their new, shared life.”
But once they arrive in London where Konstantin lives, his mask slowly comes off. Jean, who struggles with her gender throughout the book, changes her name to John. She doesn’t feel completely comfortable identifying as a woman, but at the same time, does not want to be a man. Konstantin, however, doesn’t care to understand the complexities of gender. He laughs at John, refusing to call her by her new name. Konstantin says she’s strange.
Despite this tension, Konstantin puts John’s translation skills to use, asking her to translate his poems from Russian to English. John wants recognition for her translation work but is Konstantin insists readers don’t want to know who the translator is, or even that the text is translated. She’s told to make herself small, invisible.
A D.C. native, the author Burgdorf is also a translator and describes the occupation as “sacred” in the book. They incorporate French into the writing and pick when—and when not—to explicitly translate the text into English. Burgdorf, and in turn, Jean, are passionate about the power and responsibility of translation. Some of the French sections feel as if these moments are just for French speakers, but not in an isolating way. A central message in Prétend is that certain words and phrases are impossible to translate perfectly, in both a literal and emotional sense. This choice speaks to the point of the book. This difficulty in “perfectly” translating comes up often when John is translating Konstantin’s work. Konstantin scolds John throughout the process, telling her she doesn’t understand his writing and that she’s made his poems too much of her own. Again, she’s told to be unseen.
Burgdorf deftly depicts John’s exhaustion in her relationship and her inability to be her true, queer self. But when an email from a mysterious person named “M.” asks John to return to Montreal to help with a translation project, it’s her deteriorating relationship with Konstantin that propels her to Canada. There she changes her name to Jeanne.
Prétend is a quick read that leaves you wanting more. Almost literally: When the book ends, many questions remain unanswered. But Burgdorf’s writing is poetic and captivating, and its beauty is a stark contrast to the traumatic themes in Prétend. They do not romanticize abusive relationships but, instead, provide an honest snapshot of how hard it is to leave. Konstantin permeates every aspect of Jean’s life and has power over her every move. Jean’s feeling of helplessness, hard to read at times, is clear. The reader feels stuck with Jean, but when things turn around, there’s a feeling of triumph and pride.
Jean grapples with the decisions she made while with dating Konstantin, but, she doesn’t give herself grace in this as someone who was manipulated and isolated from her few friends. She reckons with departing or staying at the end of the book, which is one of the many unanswered questions in Prétend. Ultimately, der decision is unknown. But that’s the point. It’s up to the reader to make their conclusion, to interpret Jean, John, and Jeanne’s next steps.
Prétend, published by End of the Line Press on Jan. 13, is now available. arielleburgdorf.com.
