BEIJING — Pema Tseden, the Tibetan filmmaker and writer, felt ashamed.

For years, he had written stories and screenplays switching between Chinese and his native Tibetan with a nimble linguistic ambidexterity. But lately, grueling filming and publicity schedules had worn him down, leaving him with the time to write only in Chinese, his second and sometimes preferred working language.

The feeling that he was neglecting his native tongue peaked recently when he found himself at an event to introduce a Tibetan edition of his book “Tharlo,” which had been translated from the original Chinese.

“Someone else had to translate my own novel into my native language,” the soft-spoken director of critically acclaimed films like “Jinpa” and “Tharlo” said in a recent interview. “It felt a bit absurd.”

It seemed almost like a confession of guilt, coming from someone whose Tibetan identity has been central to his work and life. And it underscored the contradictions that crop up regularly for a new generation of Chinese-trained Tibetan filmmakers.