Month: August 2014

When is a language not a language?

By Simon

One perennial problem in linguistics is how to decide whether a language is a language or dialect. In the fascinating book, Speak: A Short History of Languages, which I read recently, Tore Janson argues that a language can be considered a language when those who speak it decide that it is one, and they give it a name. This often happens when a language acquires a standard written form, and/or becomes the language of a state of other political entity.

He gives the example of Italian in the Chapter Did Dante Write in Italian?: Dante is said to be one of the first authors to write in Italian rather than Latin, however he didn’t see Latin and Italian as separate languages, but just different forms of the same language. Dante refers to Classical Latin as Grammatica (Grammar), the colloquial language of Italy as Latium vulgare (popular/vulgar Latin), and he calls the language he wrote in Latino (Latin). Italian only started to be called italiano or lingua italiana not long after Dante’s death.

Janson gives the another example of the Khoisan languages of South Africa, which have many different names. Speakers of these languages, when asked, might use the name of their area, tribe or some other name for their language – but generally don’t have a particular name for their form of speech. Several hundred names have been collected by linguists, and as a result nobody is quite sure how many Khoisan languages there are and how they are related to one another. None of these languages have a standard written form, and speakers rarely, if ever, write them.

Les mots de la semaine

By Simon
français English Cymraeg
la sécheresse drought sychder; sychdwr; sychin
le col (de montagne) (mountain) pass bwlch
prudent careful (cautious) gofalus; gwyliadwrus; pwyllog
soigneux careful (handling) gofalus
minutieux careful (examination, study) gofalus; gwyliadwrus
fais attention (be) careful! gan bwyll! gofalwch! cymer ofal!
attentivement (listen, look) carefully yn ofalus; â gofal
avec soin; soigneusement carefully (planned; controlled; worded) yn ofalus; â gofal
prudemment (drive) carefully (gyrru) yn ofalus; â gofal
éviter soigneusement de faire qch to carefully avoid doing sth osgoi gwneud rhywbeth yn ofalus

Brushing up languages

By Simon

Last week in Scotland I tried to speak Scottish Gaelic as much as possible, and had a number of good conversations. At first though, I was adding quite a lot of Irish Gaelic into the mix, which works sometimes as the two languages are close, but not always. Last year I had a month between my visits to Ireland and Scotland, so had time to get my brain in Scottish Gaelic mode before going to Scotland. This year I only had a week, which wasn’t really enough. By the end of the week in Scotland my Scottish Gaelic was coming back.

Sometimes words that are spelt the same but pronounced differently in the two languages trip me up: for example man is fear, which is [fəuɾˠ] in Irish, and [fɛr] in Scottish Gaelic, which sounds like the Irish word for hay/grass, féar [feːɾˠ], which is feur [fiər/fjɔːrʲ] in Scottish Gaelic – not to be confused with fior (true, genuine, real) [fiər].

Do you need a while to brush up languages you don’t use very often? How do you go about it?

I generally listen and read a lot, and practise speaking to myself. Last year I also wrote something on my other blog every day in the language I was focusing on.

Air ais anns a’ Chuimrigh

By Simon

Thàinig mi air ais dhan a’ Chuimrigh oidhche Shathairne an déidh seachdain math dha rìreabh ann an Sabhal Mòr Ostaig. Rinn mi cùrsa Òrain Ghàidhlig ri Christine Primrose, agus bu mhór a chòrd e rium. Bha tri duine deug anns a’ chlas à Alba, ‘nam Ghearmailt, às na Stàitean Aonaichte, agus à Sasann. Chan robh Gàidhlig ag na mór-chuid aca, agus bha i doirbh dhaibh na faclan a fhuaimneachadh mar bu chòir. Dh’ionnsaich sinn naoi òrain ar fhichead ré cóig latha, no timcheall sia gach latha. Anns an oidhche bha sinn a’ seinn, a’ dannsa, a’ bruidhinn agus bha sinn gu sona sunndach.

I got back to Wales on Saturday night after a great week at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig. I did the Gaelic Song course with Christine Primrose and really enjoyed it. There were thirteen of us in the class from Scotland, Germany, the USA and England. Most of the others did not speak Gaelic, and it was difficult for them to pronounce the words correctly. We learnt 29 songs in five days, or about six a day. In the evening we sang, made music, danced, chatted and had a wonderful time.

Here are recordings from the cèilidh on Thursday night when we sang a some of the songs we learnt:

E ho leagain (Hi ho my pet one) – a milking song which praises a long-haired heifer who gives plenty of milk and never kicks.

Horo mo bhobagan dram (My friend is the dram) – a song in praise of whisky,

Tha Sneachd air Druim Uachdair (There is Snow on Druim Uachdair) – a song from the 17th century by Fearchair Mac Iain Oig from Kintail about a man who is on the run from the law and is hiding out in the hills where it’s cold and lonely. I sang solo for parts of this.

Carson a’ bhios sinn muladach (Why should we be down-hearted) – a song about young men going off to war together, and how they’re worried, but hope things will turn out well and that they’ll return.

Siud mar chaidh an càl a dholaidh & Cuir a nall Mor-a-Bhitheag (That is how the kale was ruined & Send on over Marion-a-Bhitheag) – two puirt à beul or pieces of mouth music, the first of which tells how the kale was ruined by the lowland men and the emperor of France, and the second concerns Marion-a-Bhitheag – the meaning of Bhitheag in this context is uncertain.

Waulking and Walking

By Simon

My Gaelic Song course is going well and I’m really enjoying it. There are thirteen of us in the class – most are from Scotland or of Scottish origin, and there are also a few from other countries like the USA and Germany. Some speak Gaelic well, others know a bit, and those without any Gaelic are finding the pronunciation somewhat tricky.

One type of song we’ve learnt is the waulking song. The word waulking refers to the practise of fulling or milling tweed cloth, or pounding the cloth against a board with the hands or trampling it with the feet in order to shrink it and make it water proof. In Scotland, and among Scottish settlers in Nova Scotia, waulking was accompanied by rhythmic songs known as waulking songs (òrain luaidh) which helped people to coordinate their work. Traditionally it was women who did this work – men also did it in Nova Scotia – and one person would sing verses, and everybody who sing the vocables – nonsense syllables that fit the tune. The verses were often improvised.

There are some examples of waulking songs in the songs section of Omniglot.

The word waulking comes from the Old English word wealcan (to roll, toss); from the Proto-Germanic *walkaną (to twist, turn, move); from the Proto-Indo-European *wolg- < *wel- (to bend, twist, run, roll), which is also the root of walk, and of the Latin word valgus (bent, bow-legged).

Sabhal Mòr Ostaig

By Simon

I’m off to Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, the Gaelic college on the Isle of Skye, later today to do a course in Scottish Gaelic song (Òrain Ghàidhlig) with Christine Primrose. This is the third time I’ve done the course with Christine, and the fourth time I’ve been to the college – last year I was there later in August for a Gaelic song course with Mary-Ann Kennedy.

I’m looking forward to it very much as I love singing, especially in Gaelic, and will have plenty of opportunities to speak Gaelic, and maybe other languages, while I’m there. The place itself is also very beautiful with spectacular views across the Sound of Sleat.

A view of the Sabhal Mòr Ostaig campus

So I’m going to Glasgow by train today, staying there tonight, then continuing my journey by train up to Mallaig, and by ferry to Armadale, then I’ll walk or get a taxi to the college, depending on the weather.