Month: September 2014

Grammatical correctness and standard languages

By Simon

I got thinking standard languages and grammars today after reading an old post on Michal Boleslav Měchura’s blog Young, Single, Multilingual in which differences between standard and non-standard Irish language and grammar are discussed.

One example is the use of the tag question ní tá instead of the standard nach bhfuil – the equivalent of isn’t it?, aren’t you?, etc. This is used mainly in and around Cloch Chionnaola in the north west of Ireland. According to Michal, “from the Standard-Irish point of view, it breaks all the rules, combining the wrong words in ungrammatical ways. But it is reportedly very common among native speakers in the area …”

A standard language is one particular form of a language that is chosen, from among many, for linguistic, political and social reasons, to be the main language used in education, media and in formal contexts. When this happens other forms of that language may start to be viewed as non-standard, substandard, or plain wrong, and such judgements are often applied to speakers of those forms as well, though that’s a separate issue. Standards are maintained by official bodies, schools, publishers and so on, or at least they try to do so.

A grammar can be a description of the standard form of a language which is seen as the model speakers and writers should adhere to, or aim for. Alternatively a grammar might try to describe how people actually use a language and may include non-standard and informal usage, which would be judged wrong by a prescriptive grammar.

In the real world of everyday language few people speak exactly like the standard form of the language. We stumble over words, get words mixed up, make grammatical ‘mistakes’ and so on. At least this is the case for English and Irish. What about for other languages? How big is the difference between the standard language, if one exists, and colloquial language(s)? Do people complain about grammatical ‘mistakes’ made by others?

All mouth and no trousers

By Simon

The idiom all mouth and no trousers came up last night at the French conversation group. We were actually looking for a French equivalent of all fur coat and no knickers and couldn’t find one, but did find an equivalent of all mouth and no trousers, which has a somewhat similar meaning.

According to the Oxford Dictionaries, to be all mouth and no trousers is to “tend to talk boastfully without any intention of acting on one’s words, while all fur coat and no knickers means to “have an impressive or sophisticated appearance which belies the fact that there is nothing to substantiate it” [source].

According to Wiktionary all mouth and no trousers comes from northern England, was originally all mouth and trousers, and refers to someone who is “superficial, engaging in empty, boastful talk, but not of real substance.” Apparently a US equivalent is all hat and no cattle, and there are many other idioms with the same meaning:

  • all bark and no bite
  • all bluff and bluster
  • all crown, no filling
  • all foam, no beer
  • all hammer, no nail
  • all icing, no cake
  • all shot, no powder
  • all sizzle and no steak
  • all talk
  • all talk and no action
  • all wax and no wick
  • all show, no go

An equivalent in Welsh is pen punt a chynffon dima (“pound head and halfpenny tail”). Are there similar idioms in other languages?

Les mots de la semaine

By Simon
français English Cymraeg
bouffer to scoff (food) llowcio; claddu
se moquer de qn/qch to scoff at sb/sth gwawdio / cael hwl am ben rhywbeth/rhywun
mouchard grass (informer) prep(iwr); clepgi
cafteur snitch llechgi; llechiad; snechgi
malchanceux unlucky (person) anffodus; anlwcus
malheureux unlucky (defeat, conicidence, choice) anffodus
de malchance unlucky (day, moment) anffodus
porter malheur to be unlucky bod yn anlwcus / anffafriol
se distinguer to excel rhagori
chou frisé kale bresych deiliog; cêl
les bettes (fpl);
les blettes (fpl)		 chard ysgallddeilen; gorfetysen
aliment bourratif stodge stwnsh; sgrwtsh
bourratif; lourd stodgy (food) sgrwtshlyd; stwnshlyd; toeslyd
indigeste stodgy (book) trymaidd; trwm; diflas
barbant stodgy (person) diflas
tir à l’arc archery saethyddiaeth; saethu â bwa
la cible target saethnod; nod
il a que da la guele he’s all mouth and no trousers pen punt a chynffon dima

Patterns

By Simon

Recently I’ve been learning Serbian, Russian and Czech with free apps produced by Hallberg Ryman, who make them for quite a variety of languages for Andriod and iPhone/iPad. They are working well for me and I would definitely recommend them.

They use a flashcard/SRS-based system to teach you vocabulary arranged into categories such as numbers, colours, clothing, food, etc. Within each category you learn individual words, and then see them in various sentences, which you’re tested on by filling in blanks, or by assembling sentences from a bunch of random words.

One blank filling exercise involves typing the missing words – in the other you just select the words – and I find this the most difficult, especially for Russian. It is also the most useful because I have to think about spelling and the grammar.

The other day I was doing a lesson on colours in Czech and in the typing exercise was having trouble remembering the endings for each word. I tried to memorise them for each sentence, but found this tricky, then I thought that there must be a pattern to them. I soon realised that they were agreeing with the gender of the nouns they accompanied. Once I spotted the pattern, it was easy to remember and apply it. I’m sure this aspect of Czech grammar has come up before in my Czech studies, but I hadn’t internalised it. Now that I’ve worked it out for myself through observation and experiment, I won’t forget it.

When learning grammar, are you able to take it in and remember it just from grammatical descriptions, or do you need to see lots of examples?

Mochi

By Simon

Mochyn yn mochi (A pig wallowing)

Yesterday I came across an interesting Welsh word in one of my Welsh dictionaries (Y Geiriadur Mawr) – mochi [‘mɔxɪ] – which means “ymdrybaeddu fel moch / to wallow as swine”. It comes from moch (pigs), the singular of which is mochyn, from the Proto-Celtic *mokkus (pig), which probably comes from a non-Indo-European root [source].

In English the equivalent of mochi is to pig, which means “(of a sow) to give birth; to live in squalor (also ‘to pig it’); or to devour (food) greedily (also ‘to pig out, to pig oneself, to make a pig of oneself’)” [source]. None of these has quite the meaning of the Welsh word though.

Are there words or phrases in other languages similar to mochi?

The English word pig comes from the Middle English pigge (pig, pigling), which referred a young pig / piglet – adult pigs were known as swine [source], which comes from the Old English swīn (pig, hog, wild boar), from the Proto-Germanic *swīną (swine, pig), from the Proto-Indo-European *sū- (pig), which is also the root of sow (female pig) [source].

Another pig-related word in English is pork (pig meat), which comes from the Middle English pork/porc, via Anglo-Norman from the Old French porc (swine, hog, pig, pork), from the Latin porcus (domestic hog, pig), from Proto-Indo-European *porḱ- (young swine, young pig), which is cognate with the Old English fearh (young pig, hog), and the root of farrow. [source].

Comparing someone to a pig is generally an insult in English – e.g. You eat like a pig! Dirty pig! etc. Also ‘the pigs’ is a slang term for the police. What about in other languages?

Byd bach (Small world)

By Simon

Yesterday I met some Russians who are in Bangor for Celtic-Slavic language conference. They both speak Welsh and one of them teaches Welsh in Moscow. We got chatting, mainly in Welsh, and it turned out that they know friends of mine who are studying or doing research in Aberystwyth, and they also know Russians I met while studying Irish in Donegal in Ireland. The world of Celtic studies is quite small, and the world of Slavo-Celtic studies is even smaller, so these connections weren’t a great surprise.

One advantage of learning lesser-studied languages like Welsh and Irish is that you can become part of relatively small communities of learners, and can possibly become part of small native speaker communities as well. People who learn such languages come from many different countries, so while the languages themselves may only be spoken in particular parts of particular countries, by learning them you can become part of a world-wide community of learners. So if you meet other learners or native speakers on your travels, it’s quite likely that they will know some of the same people you know. At the Polyglot Gathering in Berlin, for example, I met a Swedish guy who has studied Irish in Donegal, and found we had friends and acquaintances in common.

There are also links between different minority and endangered language communities. For example, Manx-speaking musicians, singers and dancers regularly take part in inter-Celtic festivals, such as the annual one in Lorient in Brittany, and have contacts with Sámi-speaking communities in Norway, and with Jèrriais speakers in Jersey.

Interesting!

By Simon

The word interesting can have a variety of meanings, depending on how you say it and the context in which you use it. At least it does in British English.

The basic definition is “inspiring interest; absorbing” [source]. It comes from the noun interest (legal claim or right; concern; benefit, advantage), from the Anglo-French interesse (what one has a legal concern in), from the Medieval Latin interesse (compensation for loss), from the Latin verb interresse (to concern, make a difference, be of importance, or literally “to be between”), from inter- (between) and esse (to be) [source].

If you are asked your opinion on something, such as a film, play, concert, etc, that you didn’t like or enjoy, you might, if you’re British and don’t want to be negative, describe it as “interesting” and maybe praise an aspect of it that did appeal to you. Maybe you liked the costumes, the venue, the lighting, or whatever. You could also use this description for a person, place, thing or other event. This could be taken at face value, or as indirect criticism, if you read between the lines – damning with faint praise. This shouldn’t be confused with typical British understatement.

Other words you might use to describe something you didn’t like or enjoy include different, challenging and unusual. Do you have any others?

Is interesting used in this way in other varieties of English? How are equivalent words used in other languages?