Hi Pingle – I remember your writing from Historical SYW; it was very interesting and seemed to have a good balance – carefully placed details, not too many unfamiliar things, just enough to make the reader feel that they are in a different world.
I also don't think you need "pater" or "mater", since father and mother are identical, and Latin, despite being a dead language, does have some words which acquired very peculiar overtones over the ages. In general it's good to be careful with using informal language, because it wasn't all that common. Parents were showed a tremendous amount of respect by their children in most countries until at least the 20th century. A child could not sit or assume a relaxed posture in their parent's presence, without being allowed to by said parent. Crazy times!
Okay – so my story is set in the 19th century Japan, and I had the same problem before I started writing: I wasn't sure what to do with so many terms and titles and honorifics, specific to the Japanese language and culture of the time. I began to read English-language books set in various periods of Japanese history, to see how others deal with it. I found out that the authors generally love to use as much Japanese words in their books as possible, even if there is absolutely no need to. I mean, why say
ryokan, when you can say inn? Yes, a
ryokan operates in a different way than a Western inn, but so what? It's a Japanese equivalent of an inn. But lots of words, especially titles or honorifics, are used to add authenticity, and come off as wrong, horribly wrong. For example, instead of "mater" and "pater" there are "otōsan" and "okāsan", which are very polite, contemporary Japanese equivalents. But depending on the place and era, the word to address a mother, "okāsan", can be:
– hahaue
– okāsama
– okān
– okā
– okāchan
– okkāsan
– kāchan
– kakā
... which is not all. I try to read every historical novel set in Japan that comes out recently; I can count on fingers of one hand the number of books where this is done right. Even the long-suffering honorific "san" is contemporary; it can be quite rude, depending on circumstances, even now; it can be very rude, or outright impossible to use, in historical fiction.
I also saw readers and reviewers complain that there were too many Japanese terms and unfamiliar words for them to be able to enjoy the book fully; that they appreciated the author wanting to teach them "new things", but that they wanted to be entertained first, and that the constant need to check the glossary or Google didn't allow for that.
So I decided to ditch almost all the Japanese words, titles, and honorifics, and do everything in my power to render them in English, or to otherwise weasel my way around them so that I could make my readers feel comfortable with the characters and within the story. I also found out I'm not interested in showing off my knowledge of the subject, at least not in that way. A few instances where I do use Japanese terms:
1. I decided to keep words which are universally known, and which have no English equivalents – sushi, geisha, and the like – but I'm not using "ryokan" instead of "inn".
2. I sometimes use a Japanese term together with an English one, when the English word alone might bring to mind a different image than I want – "geta clogs" instead of only "clogs".
3. I use Japanese words when they are 100% irreplaceable, surprising, and have an added authenticity bonus.
Oiran is an example – for people interested in Japanese culture, "oiran" is a high-class courtesan; but in reality it was a honorific, akin to "lady", used by guests and staff in licensed pleasure quarters to address a courtesan, no matter the rank.
What I really want to say is this, I think – it's not the terminology that makes the story more authentic and immersive for the readers, it's your skill to introduce the readers to the way of living, the attitudes, the beliefs, the mindset specific to that time and place. Actually, I'm also reading
Hild at the moment, and I think that Nicola Griffith does sometimes overdo the first, but never, ever fails to employ the second – and that is what makes her book so wonderful.
Sorry for the length – and best of luck