Babel

by R.F. Kuang

It took Robin a while to realize the woman across from him was staring over her knitting. When he met her eyes, she promptly turned to Professor Lovell and asked, ‘Is that an Oriental?’ Professor Lovell jerked his head up, roused from slumber. ‘I beg your pardon?’ ‘I was asking about your boy,’ said the woman. ‘Is he from Peking?’ Robin glanced at Professor Lovell, suddenly very curious what he might say. But Professor Lovell only shook his head. ‘Canton,’ he said curtly. ‘Further south.’ ‘Ah,’ said the woman, clearly disappointed when he wouldn’t elaborate. Professor Lovell went back to sleep. The woman looked Robin up and down again with an unsettlingly eager curiosity, then turned her attention to her children. Robin remained silent. Suddenly his chest felt very tight, though he couldn’t understand why this was. The children wouldn’t stop staring at him; their eyes were wide and their mouths gaped in a way that would have been precious if they didn’t make Robin feel as if he’d sprouted another head. After a moment the boy tugged on his mother’s sleeve and made her bend down so he could whisper in her ear. ‘Oh.’ She chuckled, then glanced at Robin. ‘He’d like to know if you can see.’ ‘I – what?’ ‘If you can see?’ The woman raised her voice and overenunciated her every syllable, as if Robin had difficulty hearing. (This had happened often to Robin on the Countess of Harcourt; he could never understand why people treated those who couldn’t understand English as if they wer...