In this article, literary multilingualism theory functions as a theoretical framework for the analysis. Literary multilingualism theory concerns literary texts in two or more languages. Julia Tidigs’ summary of notions and definitions shows that literary multilingualism can embrace different parts of the literary text: words, phrases, orthographies, grammar, non-idiomatic use of language, translated metaphors, and semantic loans (55). For our analyses, words and non-idiomatic use of language will be of particular interest. Reading literary texts perceived as multilingual requires a multimodal approach, as stated by Julia Tidigs and Markus Huss:

Literary texts that are dual-language books contain translation. The Sámi and Swedish texts in the chosen picturebooks are written and translated by the authors themselves. Thus, translation becomes a question of what the authors themselves decide to carry across between their languages. According to Yasemin Yildiz, literal translation – that is, word-by-word translation – may challenge a monolingual paradigm and serve as a postmonolingual writing strategy, “where it functions as a form of multilingualizing estrangement” (148). Literal translation is a form of multilingualism that is visible and invisible in the text. Tidigs points out that the reader might not recognise both languages present in the literal translation, but if the translation is perceived as different or nonconforming, it is multilingual (51). Multilingualism can also be expressed by including words that are “culturally recognizable” and therefore “easily understood and assimilated by readers with little or no knowledge” of the other language or by immediately translating the foreign word (Torres 78). Including words in another language can also challenge monolingualism when the words or phrases in the other language are not translated, not italicised, and not “marked as foreign in any way” (Torres 78). However, as we will show, including words in another language can also challenge monolingualism by promoting cultural awareness and language revitalisation.

We read the selected picturebooks through a postcolonial lens, which considers history and the legitimacy and control exercised by the Swedish nation state over the Sámi peoples. This postcolonial lens is adopted in our analyses of verbal and visual elements through the concept of Sámi aesthetics. Harald Gaski discusses the concept as being beyond the common dictionary definition of what is regarded as beautiful “since the notion of ‘beauty’ is relative and contextual” (187). Sámi aesthetics is “both a mode and an instrument with which to (re)consider what aesthetics is all about” (Heith, “Aesthetics” 179). Even artforms construing “imagined Saaminess” (Baglo 96), like picture postcards, “may help reclaim a hidden or lost past, providing both personal and collective value as they open for discussions relating to colonization and decolonization” (95). In picturebooks, illustrations may “provide […] visual stimulation” and “support the comprehension needs of children for whom text is not the primary method of communication” (Bird and Yokota 282). Sámi culture might be unknown or less familiar to some readers or constitute collective value (cf. Baglo 95) or memory. Images by Sámi artists can make the less familiar or forgotten culture visible. The visual depictions of, for example, Sámi costumes, might function as wordless communication (Tervo, Laukkanen, and Kuosmanen 5), showing rather than telling Sámi readers something about the context. An artefact such as a Sámi giisá, chest, represents a treasure trove, where items “deeply embedded in cultural values and meanings” (Finbog 21) were stored – and with the items the stories connected to the artefacts provide an in-depth meaning to readers with insider cultural knowledge.

For the analysis of the verbal and visual narrative, there are different models depending on the focus, for example, narratology or ideology. We will take on Nina Christensen’s main categories of relationships between text and images in picturebooks to analyse the interplay between the verbal and the visual narratives. The categories are relationships that are “equal,” “full of contrasts and contradictions,” or “complementary” (277). Christensen’s first category “side- og ligestillede” gives the verbal and visual elements the same status without claiming that text and pictures only provide the same information, or that they are completely symmetrical (277). Christensen’s first category is more nuanced than claiming that the text and image are symmetrical or provide the same information and is better suited for the interpretation of the interplay between text and pictures in the analysed picturebooks. The second category, “kontrast- og modsætningsfyldte” (277), implies that pictures may provide other information than the text. Finally, pictures and text in the third category may be “komplementerende” (277), that is, adding information.

Picturebooks are relevant both artistically and educationally. Thus, in addition to the analysis of the interplay between the verbal and the visual narratives, we consider the didactic aspects of the picturebooks. Maria Nikolajeva addresses the literary-didactic split in the perception of children’s literature as art and didactics, remarking that

In line with Christensen’s views on the relationships between text and pictures, and Nikolajeva’s argument, we consider both the verbal text and the illustrations in picturebooks as art and educational tools.

The material chosen had to fulfil the following selection criteria: 1) They are dual-language picturebooks for small children and thus include verbal narratives in two languages and one single visual narrative, 2) Both of the verbal narratives are original versions and not translated by an external translator, and 3) One of the languages is a Sámi language and the other is Swedish. The chosen picturebooks are not the only ones available. When we started writing this article, there were three books, two by Marakatt and Midbjer. We excluded one of Marakatt and Midbjer’s books, as we have already analysed it in another article. Today, the category includes at least five books.

Lilli, by Elin Marakatt and Anita Midbjer, was published by NDIO kultur & kommunikation and MantraLingua. It is the story of a small girl, Lilli, who leaves home one afternoon, teams up with her grandfather, and experiences the Northern lights before returning home. The story is followed by a dual-language text in Swedish and North Sámi about two legends of the Northern lights.

Lilli comprises 26 non-paginated pages and is published in multiple dual-language versions (see appendix 1). Some versions pair one of the five Sámi languages spoken in Sweden with Swedish, or a Sámi language and Norwegian. Other versions pair Swedish and other languages. As shown in appendix 1, the North Sámi-Swedish version is the only one where Marakatt is the author of the text in both languages, which was one of the selection criteria.

On the cover of the North Sámi-Swedish version, the title is first presented in Sámi and then in Swedish. The Sámi text is placed above the Swedish text on the pages (images 1–2). In the Swedish text, Marakatt has elected to insert three words in North Sámi, and this insertion of North Sámi in an otherwise Swedish-language text is discussed in the analysis. In other Sámi-language versions, the insertions into the Swedish text are in South Sámi, Lule Sámi, Ume Sámi, or Pite Sámi, respectively. These three words in Sámi are also inserted in the non-Sámi text of the non-Sámi parallel versions, for example the English-Swedish and the French-Swedish versions.

Not only is Lilli a dual-language picturebook with parallel texts in two languages. The insertion of Sámi words adds to making the non-Sámi text multilingual. Lilli is also accompanied by an audio device, the MantraLingua PENpal, which enables the reader to listen to the story in either language when the device touches the text, thereby providing yet another modality for reading besides the verbal and visual narratives.

The second book, the self-published Gájuoh muv! by Sophia Rehnfjell and Inga-Wiktoria Påve, comprises 28 pages including blank or almost blank pages intended for the reader to write, draw, or colour in. The illustrations are in colour, and on almost all double spreads there is a Swedish-Ume Sámi glossary, in total seven glossaries on the spreads and one Ume Sámi-Swedish glossary after the end of the story. An author biography in Swedish and the Ume Sámi-Swedish glossary precede the pages intended for the reader’s own activities. The book has been translated into South Sámi by Åse Klemensson, Beerkh mannem! Gïjre Almmien jïh Enoken luvnie (2022), but only the dual-language version where both texts are written by Rehnfjell will be analysed here.

The cover of Gájuoh muv! is entirely in Ume Sámi, whereas the title page only provides the Swedish title. The foreword is Swedish-only, potentially an add-on for Swedish-speaking librarians or teachers. The Ume Sámi text is placed on the left side of the double spread and the Swedish text on the right side (images 3–4).

As both texts in the North Sámi-Swedish version of Lilli and the Ume Sámi-Swedish version of Gájuoh muv! were written by Marakatt and Rehnfjell respectively, neither language can automatically be considered as taking precedence. The choice of placing the Sámi text first and the Swedish text second must be seen as deliberate, potentially with an educational intent to promote the language placed first while using the language placed second as a support for comprehension: “When reading a dual-language storybook the participants may be viewed as accessing two language versions of the print, and the use of home language as a ‘cultural tool’ initiates and facilitates the meaning-making process” (Ma 238). Thus, by fronting with the Sámi language, the authors consciously address potential Sámi readers and learners of the Sámi language in question. In second language acquisition, it is common to start with the language to be learnt, using the linguistic and cultural competence of the learner to acquire the new language (cf. Ma 238). The order of the parallel texts could either be the authors’ choice, or, in the case of Lilli, the publisher’s choice, for didactic purposes.¹

This section presents the analysis of Lilli, focusing on the verbal and visual elements used and the aesthetic and didactic interplay between the elements. The quotes in English are from the English-Swedish version Lilly, Grandpa, and the Northern Lights (see appendix 1), translated by Amki Moors.

Dramaturgically, Lilli does not involve a conflict, or a problem, to be resolved. There are activities resembling those of a quest: separation, meeting the mentor, initiation, and return. Lilli’s experiences of the Northern lights are, however, put into a Sámi cultural context; the beautiful dancing waves of light are not explained scientifically, not even in a manner intended for children. Instead, Lilli’s mentor, her grandfather, relates the Northern lights to traditional Sámi beliefs:

The grandfather also teaches Lilli to summon the Northern lights, which are visualised as brush strokes of colour, coming out of the tail of a polar fox (image 1). The pigments are intense, and the lines are soft. The aesthetically appealing and visually stimulating illustration (cf. Bird and Yokota 282) makes visible Sámi culture, as it shows – but does not tell – the story of the Northern lights and the polar fox; the image reflects Sámi culture and collective values (cf. Baglo 95–96; Tervo, Laukkanen, and Kuosmanen 5), and may help reclaim a hidden or lost cultural past (cf. Baglo 95).

The verbal narrative does not explain the presence of the polar fox, which is only explained in the text about the two tales of the Northern lights following the story. The verbal text refers to the Sámi tale of the flickering Northern lights carrying the souls of the ancestors – that is, the story told by Lilli’s grandfather. The illustration depicts the story about the fox from the Arctic Ocean running across the sky, lighting fires by flapping its tail – that is, the legend told in the text that follows the story. Consequently, the two modalities, verbal and visual communication, contribute information that the other does not provide (cf. Christensen 277).

The grandfather also shows Lilli the artefacts that he keeps in “Su fiina rukses giissá”; “Den fina röda kistan, giisá” (“the beautiful, red chest, giisá”) and tells Lilli about life

As can be seen here, in the English translation, a North Sámi word has been added by the translator to convey a culturally adequate translation,² namely a word for the traditional Sámi tent. Unlike in the Swedish text, written by Marakatt, the North Sámi words in the English translation are italicised, thereby visually marking them as different.

The interplay between the verbal text stating that Lilli finds her grandfather’s stories exciting – “Lilli nu liiko guldalit doložiid”; “Det tycker Lilli är så spännande” (“Lilly loves listening to his stories”; Marakatt and Midbjer, Lilli/Lilly) – and Midbjer’s illustration of the bright red, decorated chest visually underscores that the traditional artefacts and the stories about life in Sápmi in the old days are to be perceived as a treasure trove (cf. Finbog 21). The visual depiction of the chest might evoke memories of such chests and, thus, function as the key to a hidden or lost past (cf. Baglo 95).

In Lilli, there are three North Sámi words inserted into the Swedish text. The Swedish words “kistan” (“chest”), “pälsen av renskinn” (“reindeer fur coat”), and “mössan” (“hat”) are followed by the words in North Sámi: “giisá,” “beaska,” and “cuipi.” The Sámi words are not easily recognisable as some Sámi words would be, at least for non-Sámi people in Sápmi, for example “suovas” (salted and smoked reindeer meat) or “gáhkku” (Sámi flatbread), nor are they italicised in the Swedish text to make them stand out, thereby underscoring a linguistic estrangement (cf. Torres 78). The Sámi words in the non-Sámi text convey the message that the content of the chest is culturally meaningful to Lilli and, by association, not to be ignored by the readers. The three North Sámi words refer to cultural artefacts, and together with the illustration (image 2), the narrative creates meaning in different ways depending on the reader’s cultural knowledge and background (cf. Baglo 95; Tervo, Laukkanen, and Kuosmanen 5; Finbog 21). Furthermore, Lilli’s grandfather holds the literal and metaphorical key to the Sámi chest; the older generation can help unlock the treasure within culture and traditions. Even readers who only read the Swedish text will read multilingually and, on some level, perceive the cultural importance of the chest.

The inclusion of Sámi words in the non-Sámi text or in the illustrations can be interpreted as being in opposition to a monolingual norm. The PENpal device enabling the reader to listen to the story, as well as read the verbal and visual narratives, takes the role of an intermediary device between the printed and the auditive media, as the reader must actively move the pen from one page to the next. Using the audio device adds another multimodal aspect to the reading process.

This section focuses on the verbal and visual elements used and the aesthetic and didactic interplay between the elements in the second picturebook, Gájuoh muv! All translations into English of quotes were made by the authors of this article.

The storyline of Gájuoh muv! centres on Enok’s and Almmie’s first day at the summer dwelling in Ältsvattnet. From a dramaturgical perspective, Gájuoh muv! is a story with a problem to be solved by the child protagonists, as they see a reindeer calf in distress and create a rescue plan. Several stages of a quest are present: the children leave their home for the summer season, encounter a problem, remember the advice of their mentor, solve the problem, and return home to receive the praise of their parents. For readers who are familiar with reindeer husbandry, there is also the potential of recognition. The knowledge conveyed through the verbal and visual elements contributes to the readers’ image of Sámi life, languages, and culture.

While Enok’s and Almmie’s parents go up into the mountains to tend to the reindeer, the children walk around in the mountains. In image 3, Almmie, Enok, their parents, and the family dog can be seen before going up into the mountains. The family is standing by their snowmobiles and they look at the mountains: “Månna värijde vuajnáb! Dessne leä Suvlåjvvie! Almmie gyllja”; “Jag ser fjällen! Där är Suvlåjvvie! ropar Almmie” (I can see the mountains! That’s Suvlåjvvie, Almmie shouts; Rehnfjell and Påve 6–7). By naming a mountain in the Vindelfjällen nature reserve, the verbal statement situates the story in a way that enhances, or underscores, the visual narrative suggesting that the story is set in Sápmi – there are reindeer grazing on the snowy, treeless mountain ranges.

As shown, there are pieces of clothing that visually remind the reader of the Sámi setting (image 3). The father’s woven shoe ties, the mother’s cape, and the girl’s shoes and hat indicate Sáminess and provide wordless information about the Sámi identity to in-group readers (cf. Tervo, Laukkanen, and Kuosmanen 5), who can recognise where the story takes place from the particulars of the clothes. Readers who are familiar with snowmobiles interpret the significance of the two snowmobiles in relation to reindeer husbandry; the older snowmobile is a classic vehicle for transport in reindeer husbandry, while the modern snowmobile would be used by the reindeer herders to guard the perimeter of the grazing herd. Out-group readers – that is, readers without the Sámi cultural knowledge and background – might not have access to that information unless the verbal narrative adds clues for interpretation. In this case, no verbal clues are provided.

The verbal narrative gives implicit information about the season:

The calving season for reindeer is in April and May. The information is not only relevant to Sámi children who might go into reindeer husbandry, which in Sweden is exclusive to the Sámi peoples. Non-Sámi readers going up into the mountains in the calving season also learn why they must not scare the reindeer. The interplay between the verbal and visual narratives shows that these elements will be read differently depending on the cultural knowledge of the readers.

Image 4 depicts the central scene in Gájuoh muv! where Enok and Almmie save a reindeer calf that has been separated from its mother. The verbal text reveals the children’s knowledge about the brook: “Juhkka leä huv giäŋŋale jah tjáhtjie gålggá, Enok jahttá”; “Bäcken är så djup och vattnet strömmar, säger Enok” (The brook is so deep, and the water and the currents are strong, Enok says; Rehnfjell and Påve 16–17). Almmie, who brought her lasso, comes up with a plan:

Almmie was prompted by her paternal grandfather to bring her lasso, indicating the importance within the Sámi cultures of the older generation.

The children are at the centre of the image, and the use of red makes them stand out against the predominantly white and blue snowy landscape. There are marked contour lines, and the children have big Mangaesque eyes. In the top right corner of the illustration, there is an image of the rescuing of the calf. As the aftermath of the actual rescuing is depicted on the following spread, the reader might interpret the superimposed picture as either a representation of Almmie’s plan for the rescue or as a visualisation of the rescue operation. Therefore, the illustration supports the comprehension of the verbal text outlining Almmie’s plan (cf. Bird and Yokota 282).

The glossary in Swedish and Ume Sámi, on the other hand, challenges the narrative. Its headline, “Vilken färg är det? Mij leäh fiärjijde?” (Which colour is it?; Rehnfjell and Påve 17), is superimposed onto the representation of Almmie’s plan or the visualisation of the rescuing. In the glossaries on the spread, the Swedish word or expression always come first, and they do not contain words and phrases from the verbal narrative. The glossaries are there to teach Ume Sámi readers words and expressions in a language that is no longer widely spoken. Therefore, we conclude that they might be understood as a didactic tool but not explicitly as part of the visual or verbal narrative. From a didactic point of view, it might make sense to learn the words for all colours, even though these colours are not vital for talking about the images or interpreting the story. The superimposition of the Ume Sámi phrase has, however, a similar function as the Sámi words in the non-Sámi version of Lilli; even readers who do not read the Sámi text will read multilingually or at least register the presence of the Sámi words.

The glossaries provide Ume Sámi words that might be used when talking about the illustrations or situations, for example what to pack when hiking in the mountains. These glossaries also provide readers with Ume Sámi vocabulary useful for reindeer husbandry, for example “sarvvá/sarvies sarvvá/rentjur, hanren” (male reindeer) and “giähka g/miessiegiähka g/vaja som har kalv” (female reindeer with calf; Rehnfjell and Påve 7), and other words connected with life in the mountains, such as “skierrie rr/dvärgbjörk” (dwarf birch; 9), and “luömiege luömieg-/fjällämmel” (Norway lemming; 15). As Gájuoh muv! is a dual-language book, the glossaries on the spreads are didactic tools to help readers acquire the Ume Sámi language and can be seen as expressions of “a strong pedagogical thrust” (cf. Nikolajeva xi).

The glossary at the end of the book differs from the glossaries on the spreads in that the last glossary starts with the Ume Sámi words and phrases. These words and phrases can be found in the verbal narrative. However, Rehnfjell’s translation into Swedish in the story and her translation of the same word or expression in the last glossary are not always identical. In the verbal narrative, Enok’s and Almmie’s parents are to go up into the mountains to herd the reindeer, “ráddieb gähttet” (Rehnfjell and Påve 12). In the narrative, Rehnfjell translates this into “vakta renarna” (herd reindeer; 13). In the glossary after the end of the story, Rehnfjell translates “ráddieb gähttet” into “vårda kanten (av renarna)” (guard the perimeter (of the reindeer herd); 23). The literal translation of the Ume Sámi expression is perceived by the Swedish-speaking reader as foreign; it functions as multilingualizing estrangement (cf. Yildiz 148). Readers who are familiar with large scale reindeer husbandry understand the unfamiliar expression; reindeer herders guard the perimeter of the area where the reindeer graze. The example shows how Sámi culture pertaining to reindeer husbandry linguistically is carried across to the Swedish-speaking out-group.

Literary multilingualism is evident in the parallel texts, in the insertion of Sámi words into the Swedish Lilli text, in the glossaries and illustrations in Gájuoh muv!, and in the cultural and literal translations. As demonstrated in the analyses, the dual-language picturebooks enable the acquisition or revitalisation of the Sámi language through texts in two languages, an audio device, and glossaries. These picturebooks promote the cultural anchoring for the implied Sámi child reader and can function as a didactic tool for all readers, enhancing metalinguistic and intercultural awareness (cf. Zaidi 277). The choice of placing the Sámi text first and the Swedish text second in the narrative, as opposed to the glossaries on the spreads in Gájuoh muv!, could either be interpreted as an expression of a “Sámi first” cultural policy or common practice in second language acquisition, drawing on the learner’s linguistic and cultural competence (cf. Ma 238). The educational intent articulated by both Marakatt and Rehnfjell (see note 1) makes it reasonable to see the choice of placing the Sámi text first as the result of didactic considerations.

In both picturebooks, the interplay between the verbal and visual elements demands a multimodal approach (cf. Tidigs and Huss 219). Readers must, for example, choose how to approach the glossaries on the spreads or the Ume Sámi phrases superimposed onto the pictures in Gájuoh muv!, that is, to read them or to bypass them. The superimposition of an Ume Sámi phrase onto each illustration constitutes a particular type of multilingualism, as Swedish-speaking readers will be made to read multilingually or at least make an active choice of not reading multilingually while reading the picturebook. At the same time, the glossary translates the Sámi cultural expression projected onto the image, making a non-Sámi literate reader exposed to the Ume Sámi phrase and forced to read multilingually, but then getting a translation. The vocabulary underscores Rehnfjell’s educational intention, as expressed in the foreword; she hopes that the book will help readers to reclaim their Ume Sámi language, will function as educational material, and will make visible the everyday life of Sámi peoples and reindeer husbandry (Rehnfjell and Påve 5; see also note 1).

Marakatt and Midbjer’s book, available in multiple versions (see appendix 1), targets a wider readership than Rehnfjell and Påve’s book. The PENpal audio device available for the Lilli versions allows readers additional possibilities of reading: auditorily in two languages – in real life or via the device, and materially – allowing readers to record themselves reading aloud. The audio device can be used with an additional didactic intent, that is, helping readers to practice pronunciation (cf. “Dual Language Books”).

The interplay between the verbal and visual narrative provides contrast or complement. As readers cannot fail to notice that only Sámi people, in Sápmi, are depicted and that there are no signs of the non-Sámi world, apart from artefacts and the Swedish language, the books add an ideological dimension to these literary texts. The intended readership might be 3–7-year-olds, but in many cases, an adult reader will be involved, either choosing the book, reading aloud, or talking about the book with the young one.

The visual elements elucidate Sámi identities and Sámi cultures, making Sáminess the norm and connecting readers with values and/or collective memories. A Sámi piece of clothing, or an artefact, are more than objects in picturebooks by Sámi artists. As expressions of Sámi aesthetics, the illustrations are never just decorative. In many cases, the loss of the Sámi languages among Sámi peoples makes dual-language books a necessity, as readers might not be able to read and understand the Sámi text. The images function as an inroad to Sámi cultures, as they visualise aspects of Sámi beliefs, traditions, and everyday life. The verbal and visual narratives also provide out-group readers with some knowledge about Sámi peoples and cultures. Words and phrases in Sámi make visible Sámi languages and challenge monolingualism. They constitute messages where words and images are intertwined for in-group and out-group readers. Finally, the multilingualism conveys to the readers of these picturebooks that the Sámi peoples still exist, that they intend to retain their cultures, and keep their languages alive or reclaim their Sámi languages.