International Mother Language Day

By Simon

I just discovered that today is International Mother Language Day, and found this video about it:

According the the UN website,

“International Mother Language Day has been observed every year since February 2000 to promote linguistic and cultural diversity and multilingualism. The date represents the day in 1952 when students demonstrating for recognition of their language, Bangla, as one of the two national languages of the then Pakistan, were shot and killed by police in Dhaka, the capital of what is now Bangladesh.”

The theme for this year is books for mother tongue education.

Slugs and snails and owls

By Simon

Here some of the words that came up this week at the polyglot conversation group, along with a few related words and expressions.

Kernewek
bulhorn = snail
gluthvelhwenn; melhwenn = slug
kowann; oula = owl
mordardha = to surf
modardh = surf

Cymraeg
malwoden; malwen (malwod, pl) = snail
gwlithen; malwen ddu = slug
tylluan; gwdihŵ = owl
brigdonni; brigo tonnau; reidio tonnau; syrffio = to surf
pori = to surf (the web)
brigdonnwr; brigwr tonnau; syrffiwr = surfer
ewyn môr; brig y don; ewyn y don = surf
talp = nugget, chunk, lump, byte
cnepyn = nugget, nodule, lump, pommel
gwrthrychedd; gwrthrycholdeb = objectivity

Brezhoneg
melc’houed; melc’hwed; mailgorn; melc’houedenn-grogennek = snail
melc’houed; melc’hwedenn; likoch = slug
penn-kazh; toud; korverig = owl

Français
doué(e); de talent = talented
avoir du talent = to be talented
un musicien de talent = a talented musician
aux talents multiples = multi-talented
avoir plusieurs cordes à son arc = to have many tricks up one’s sleeve (be multi-talented)
elle est extrêmement douée = she is extremely talented
l’escargot (f) = snail
la limace = slug
le hibou; la chouettte = owl

Deutsch
die Streichholzschachtel = matchbox
der Streichholzschächtelchen = little matchbox
die Schnecke = snail
das Schneckengehäuse = snail shell
die Nacktschnecke = slug (“naked snail”)
die Eule = owl

Bulhorn

By Simon

The subject of snails came up this week at the polyglot conversation group and I discovered that the Cornish word for snail is bulhorn /ˈbʊl.hɔɾn/ (pl. bulhornes), which I particularly like, and which conjures up images of bullhorn (megaphone) wielding snails.

We were also talking about slugs and didn’t know the Cornish or Welsh words for them. I suggested malwoden heb dŷ (“a snail without a house”) or malwoden digatref (“a homeless snail”) in Welsh, and bulhorn heb chy (“snail without a house”) was suggested for the Cornish version. I now know that a Welsh slug is a gwlithen or a malwen ddu (“black snail”) and that a Cornish slug is a gluthvelhwenn or a melhwenn. The gwlith and gluth in these words, which mean dew.

I later discovered that the German word for snail is Schnecke – isn’t that a great sound? Definitely a cellar door word for me. A German slug is a Nacktschnecke or “naked snail”.

Skinwel

By Simon

When I learnt that the Breton word for television is skinwel, I wondered where it came from. Today I think I’ve found the answer (via TermOfis) – skin means ray, and appears in words such as:

– skinek = radiant
– skinad = radiation
– skinañ = to radiate, shine, beam
– skinforn = microwave oven (“ray oven”)
– skin an Heol = sunbeam (“ray of the sun”)
– skingomz = radio (“ray talk”)
– skingaser = transmitter (“ray messenger”)
– skindommerez = radiator (“ray heater”)
– skinlun = x-ray (“ray picture”)

The wel part comes from gwel (view, sight, vision), I think, and appears in such words as:

– gwelus = visible
– gwelet = to see, look

I find it interesting when new words like this are invented for modern inventions, rather than just borrowing international terms like television, telephone and radio. Other examples in Breton include pellgomz = telephone (“far talk”) and urzhiataer = computer (“order-er”). Such words may not be used in everyday speech, but I think it’s nice to know that they exist.

Can you think of examples in other languages?

Harmony magpie

By Simon

Harmony magpie

I went to a singing workshop in Porthmadog today and there I heard the interesting term harmony magpie, which is used to describe a someone who ends up singing like those around them, even if the others are singing a different part. The workshop leader recommended that any harmony magpies in the group should make sure that they surround themselves with people singing the same part, rather than going next to someone singing a different part, as they would most likely be drawn into the other part.

Afterwards I was thinking about this and thought about the way my speech tends to become like the speech of people I’m talking to, and thought that I might say that I am a bit of an accent/dialect/language/linguist magpie. I think the technical term for this phenomenon is linguistic accommodation. A linguistic magpie might also be used to describe someone who collects lots of bit of different languages, just like magpies reputedly collect shiny things to put in their nests.

Are you a linguistic magpie, or indeed a harmony magpie?

Languages in the UK

By Simon

Today I found maps on the Guardian website which show the percentages of speakers of languages other than English in a number of major UK cities. It is based on data from the 2011 census and shows where the speakers are concentrated. For example, the main concentration of Bengali speakers is in East London around Mile End, while Arabic speaks are concentrated mainly along Edgeware Road. Meanwhile in Cardiff there are Polish speakers in most parts of the city with a particular concentration between Newport Road and Broadway.

This kind of map might be useful if you’re looking for people to practice your languages with.

Do you know if similar maps are available for other cities or countries?

Cellar door words

By Simon

The term cellar door has, according to J. R. R. Tolkien and a number of other writers, a particularly pleasing sound, even though its meaning isn’t anything special. An article in the New York Times discusses the origins of this idea, an example of phonaesthetics*, and cites a 1903 novel by Cyrus Lauron Hooper, Gee-Boy, as the first mention in writing of the aesthetic properties of cellar door. It is said of the main character in the novel that:

“He even grew to like sounds unassociated with their meaning, and once made a list of the words he loved most, as doubloon, squadron, thatch, fanfare (he never did know the meaning of this one), Sphinx, pimpernel, Caliban, Setebos, Carib, susurro, torquet, Jungfrau. He was laughed at by a friend, but logic was his as well as sentiment; an Italian savant maintained that the most beautiful combination of English sounds was cellar-door; no association of ideas here to help out! sensuous impression merely! the cellar-door is purely American.”

In 1955 J. R. R. Tolkien wrote an essay entitled English and Welsh which has been mentioned as the origin of the idea:

“Most English-speaking people…will admit that cellar door is ‘beautiful’, especially if dissociated from its sense (and from its spelling). More beautiful than, say, sky, and far more beautiful than beautiful. Well then, in Welsh for me cellar doors are extraordinarily frequent, and moving to the higher dimension, the words in which there is pleasure in the contemplation of the association of form and sense are abundant.”

The OED lists a source from 1425, when it was written celer dore, as the earliest use of cellar door in English, though doesn’t mention the phonaesthetics of the term.

* Phonaesthetics is the study of the inherent pleasantness (euphony) or unpleasantness (cacophony) of the sound of certain words, phrases, and sentences. It comes from the Greek: φωνή (phōnē) – voice-sound; and αἰσθητική (aisthētikē) – aesthetics [source].

Cellar door words for me include spollagyn (chips/fries in Manx), schmetterling (butterfly in German) and spontus (terrible, awful in Breton). There are more examples on my favorite words page.

What are you cellar door words?

Torch carrying

By Simon

The expression to carry a torch for someone came up when I was putting together this week’s mots de la semaine for the French Conversation Group. We talked about my experiences in Shetland, where lots of people were carrying flaming torches, and this got me wondering why you might say that you’re carry a torch for someone.

According to Wiktionary it might date back the the Greek and Roman wedding torch tradition, which involved the bride lighting a torch from her hearth on her wedding night, and taking it to her new home to light the hearth. The torch was associated with Hymen (Ὑμήν) or Hymenaios, the Greek god of wedding ceremonies.

So if you’re carry a torch for someone it means that you’re in love with them or romantically infatuated with them, but your feelings might not be reciprocated.

The French equivalent is en pincer pour qn, and in Welsh it’s caru rhywun (o bell) yn ofer, llosgu dy gariad at rhywun yn fud, or cadwai fflam dy serch at rhywun ynghyn. What about in other languages?