Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Can you identify the language, and do you know where it’s spoken?
An Gearasdan
Dh’éirigh mi pailt ro mhoch madainn an-diugh agus bha mi air an trèan aig sia uairean. Ràinig mi dhan Ghearasdan ochd uairean nas fhaide, agus tha mi a’ fuireach ann Leabaidh is Lìte fasig air meadhan a’ bhaile anochd. Dh’ith mi isbeanan agus sliseagan bho bhùth sliseagan airson mo dhinnear. Cha robh i ro dhaor, agus cha robh i ro bhlasta idir.
Chuala mi iomadh cànain an-diugh, leithid a’ Bheurla, a’ Fhraingis, a’ Ghearmailits, an Eadailtis, a’ Mhandairinis agus cànain eile chan aithnich mi aca, ach cha robh Gàidhlig sam bith ri chluintinn. Bha Gàidhlig aig sealbhadair an taigh-òsta nuair a bha e òg, ach chan eil móran aige fhathast.
An-dràsta tha mi a’ sgrìobh an bloga seo agus a’ coimhead air BhBC Alba. Bha tionndadh film Wallace & Gromit Na Briogais Cearr (The Wrong Trousers) ann agus tha e gu math éibhinn.
D’éírigh mé i fhad ró-luath maidin inniu, agus bhí mé ar an traein ag 06:00. Tháinig mé go dtí an Gearasadan ocht n-uaire níos déanaí, agus tá mé ag fanacht i lóistín leaba agus bricfeasta in aice le lár an bhaile anocht. D’íth mé ispíní agus sceallóga ó siopa sceallóga le dhinnéar. Ní raibh sé ró-chostasach, agus ní raibh sé ró-bhlasta ach oiread.
Chuala mé go leor teangacha inniu, lena n-áirítear an Bhéarla, an Fhraincis, an Ghearmáinis, an Iodáilis agus an Mhandairínis, ach ní raibh Gaeilge na hAlban le éisteacht ar chor ar bith. Bhí Gaeilge na hAlban ag dílseánach an L⁊B nuair a bhí sé óg, ach níl móran aige anois.
Tá mé ag scríobh an bhlag seo faoi láthair agus ag amharc ar BBC Alba. Tá leagan Gaeilge na hAlban an scannán Wallace & Gromit An Bríste Mícheart ann, agus tá sé an-greannmhar.
I got up at way-too-early o’clock this morning and was on the train at 6am. I arrived in Fort William eight hours later, and I’m stay in a B&B close to the town centre tonight. I had sausage and chips from a chip shop for dinner. It wasn’t too expensive, and it wasn’t too tasty either.
I’ve heard quite a few languages today, including Englsh, French, German, Italian and Mandarin, but there wasn’t any Gaelic at all to be heard at all. The proprietor of the B&B spoke Gaelic when he was young, but he doesn’t speak it much now.
I’m currently writing this blog and watching BBC Alba. There’s a Gaelic version of the Wallace & Gromit film The Wrong Trousers, which is very funny.
Les mots de la semaine
| français | English | Cymraeg | Brezhoneg |
|---|---|---|---|
| le bassin | pond (small) | pwll | poull |
| l’étang (m) | pond (larger) | llyn | stank; lenn; loc’h |
| la mare aux canards; la canardière | duck pond | pwll hwyaden | poull houad |
| le nymphéa le nénuphar |
water lily | lili’r dwr; alaw | loar-zour; skudell-zour |
| la grotte la caverne |
cave | ogof | mougev; megin; kavarn |
| la peinture rupestre | cave painting | paentiad mewn ogof | liverezh-reier |
| l’homme des cavernes le troglodyte |
cave dweller | preswylydd ogof | tud ar mougevioù |
| la periode glaciaire | the Ice Age | Oes yr Iâ; Oes y Rhew | marevezh ar Skorn-bras |
| le guerrier | warrior | gwron; rhyfelwr; milwr | brezeler |
| enchanté; ravi | delighted | balch; llawen; wrth dy fodd | plijet bras |
| en service | on duty | ar ddyletswydd; ar wasanaeth; ar alwad | o vont |
| le grimace le froncement de sourcils |
frown | gwg; cuwch; cilwg | ard; grim |
| froncer les sourcils | to frown | gwgu; cuchio; crychu talcen; cilygu | ardaouiñ |
| le sous-traitant | sub-contractor | isgontractwr; isgytundebwr | eilkevratour |
| sous-traiter | to subcontract | isgontractio; isgytundebu | eilkevratiñ; eil tretañ; eil feuriañ |
Water lilies, nymphs and blue lotuses
There was talk of ponds and water lilies last night at the French conversation group and I discovered that one French word for water lily is nymphéa [nɛ̃.fe.a], which comes from nymphaea the Latin name for this genus of plants. The Latin word comes from the Ancient Greek word νύμφη (nymphe), which means girl, and also refers to a low ranking female deity who haunts rivers, springs, forests and other places [source].
Nymphéa refers specifially to the white water lily, or nymphaea alba, which also known as the European White Waterlily, White Lotus, or Nenuphar, a name that is also found in French: nénuphar [ne.ny.faʁ], and which comes via the Persian نيلوفر (ninufar) or the Arabic نلوفر (nilufar), from the Sanskrit नीलोतपल (nīlotpala – blue lotus), from नील (nīla – blue-black) and उतपल (utpala – lotus) [source].
Many names for plants in French come directly from Latin, whereas in English many plants have common names and Latin names. In other languages do plants have both common and Latin-derived names, or just one or the other?
Fraingis
Cha robh ceannabhaidh an còmhlain còmhraidh Fraingise ann anocht a chor ‘s gun robh i tinn. Nuair a tha i ann, bidh sinn a’ bruidhinn ann an Fraingis, gu beag-nithe, ach nuair nach eil i ann, bidh sinn a’ bhruidinn measgachadh de Fraingis, Beurla agus Cuimris. Anocht bha sinn a’ bruidhinn mu dhéidhinn làithean-saora, obair agus iomadh rudan eile.
Ní raibh ceannaire an ghrúpa comhrá Fraincise ann anocht toisc air nach raibh sí go maith. Nuair a bhionn sí ann bíonn mauid ag labhairt as Fraincis, go príomha, ach nuair nach bhíonn sí ann, bíonn muid ag labhairt meascán de Fraincis, Béarla agus Breatnais. Anocht labhair muid faoi laethanta saoire, obair, agus go leor rudaí eile.
The leader of the French conversation group wasn’t there tonight because she wasn’t well. When she’s there we speak mainly in French, but when she’s not there we speak a mixture of French, English and Welsh. Tonight we talked about holidays, work, and many other things.
A’ Challaid
Tha callaid phriobaid i mo ghàrradh agus bha i a’ fàs ro ard agus ro bhagaideach, mar sin dheth ghearr mi i an dé. Ba mhath leam cuidhteas a fhaigh dhith gu léir, ach s’e obair mòr mòr a th’ann, agus tha mi a’ dèanamh sin beag air bheag.
Bha seisean math nam thaigh an-diugh, agus bha triùir againn ann an t-seachdain seo, a chor ‘s gun sheil aonar gun robh é DiLuain an-diugh, agus cha do ràinig é. Sin iomrall furasta a dhèanamh.
Tá fál pribhéad i mo ghairdín agus bhí sé ag fás ró-ard agus ró-mhothrach, mar sin ghearr mé í inné. Ba mhaith liom é a chur díom go hiomlán, ach is é sin obair an-mhór, agus tá mé ag déanamh beagán ar bheagán.
Bhí seisiún maith ann i mo theach inniu, agus bhí triúr againn ann an tseachtain seo, mar shíl duine amhain go raibh sé Dé Luain inniu agus níor tháinig sé. Sin botún éasca a dhéanamh.
There’s a privet hedge in my garden and it was getting too high and overgrown, so I gave it a trim yesterday. I’d like to get rid of it all together, but that’s a very big job and I’m doing it little by little.
We had a good music session in my house today, and there were three of us this week, because one of us thought it was Monday today and didn’t turn up. An easy mistake to make.
Cearcall còmhraidh iol-chainnteach
Bha ceathrar againn ann ann an cearcall còmhraidh iol-chainnteach an-raoir, fiù balach às an t-Suain a bhith Suainis, Beurla agus Innis Tìlis fileanta aige, agus a bhith ag ionnsachadh cànanachas. Bhruidhinn sinn mu dhéidhinn na cànain Lochlannaiche agus iommadh rud eile.
An-diugh thàinig mo chlàirneid air ais an-déidh càiridhean, agus tha i fada nas fheàrr nís. Bha mi a’ smaoineachadh air i a’ reic, ach chan eil mi cho cinnteach mu dhéidhinn sin nís. Thàinig mo ukulele ùr an-diugh cuideachd – ukulele tenor a tha ann agus tha i cho àlainn agus tha fuaim uabhasach math oirre.
Bhí ceithre againn ann sa ciorcal comhrá ilteangach aréir, lena n-áirítear buachaill as an t-Sualainn atá Sualainnis, Béarla agus Íoslainnis liofa aige, agus atá ag déanamh staidéar ar an teangeolaíocht. Labhair muid faoi na teangacha Lochlannacha, agus faoi go leor rudaí eile.
Tháinig mo chláirnéid ar ais inniu i ndiaidh ollchóiriú, agus tá sí i bhfad níos fearr anois. Bhí mé ag smaoineamh faoi í a dhíol, ach níl mé chomh cinnte faoi sin anois. Tháinig mo ucailéile nua freisin inniu – ucailéile teanóir atá ann agus tá í go hálainn agus tá fuaim iontach uirthi.
There were four of us in the polyglot conversation group last night, including a lad from Sweden who speaks Swedish, English and Icelandic fluently, and who is studying linguistics. We talked about the Scandinavian languages, and about many other things.
My clarinet came back today after being serviced and repaired, and it’s much better now. I was thinking about selling it, but I’m not so sure about that now. My new ukulele also arrived today – an electro-acoustic tenor that’s beautiful and has a great sound.
Orientating oneself
When visiting an unfamiliar place in order to find you way around it helps if you work out where you are in relation to particular landmarks and in which direction you’re facing. In order to use a map you need to know where north is so that you can hold the map the right way round. This process is known as getting ones bearings or orientating / orienting oneself. The verb orient(ate) means to to face or arrange things to face the east (orient) and comes, via French, from the Latin word orient (the eastern part of the world, the part of the sky in which the sun rises, the east, the rising sun, daybreak, dawn). These days we usually orientate ourselves by finding out where north is, so why do we use orient(ate)?
Recently I discovered, in On The Map: Why the world looks the way it does by Simon Garfield, that the use of orient(ate) comes from the the medieval practice of placing Jerusalem in the centre of maps, so lining them up involved making them face towards Jerusalem in the east.
The northern equivalent of orient is boreal (from the Greek βορέας – god of the north wind), so to ‘orientate’ oneself towards the north might be borealate – this word doesn’t exist, but the word borealize (to adopt northern manners or pronunciation) does.
There is also a verb occident, which means “to turn or direct towards the west; to place (a church) with the chancel at the western end.” The southern equivalent of orient is austral, and the verb to australize (to point southward) was once used in English, though no longer.
Source: Oxford English Dictionary
Cuisleanan-bhinn
Sheinn mi cuisleanan-bhinn ri mo chairdean madainn an-diugh, agus sheinn sinn fuinn clasaigeach, agus fuinn a Alba, às a’ Ghearmailt agus a Hawai’i. An-déigh lòn sheinn mi fuinn clasaigeach air mo ghiotàr, dh’fheagair mi puist-dhealain, agus chuir mi òran agus alt ùr air mo làrach-linn. Tha mi a’ dul chun an cearcall còmhraidh iol-chainnteach anochd.
Sheinn mé fliúiteanna Shasanach le mo chairde maidin inniu, agus sheinn muid foinn clasaiceach, agus foinn as an Alban, an Ghearmain agus Hawai’i. I ndiaidh lón sheinn mé foinn clasaiceach air mo ghiotár, d’fhreagair mé ríomhphoist, agus chuir mé amhrán agus alt nua ar mo shuíomh Gréasáin. Tá mé ag dul chun an ciorcal comhrá ilteangach anocht.
I played recorders with my friends this morning, and we played classical tunes, and some folk tunes from Scotland, Germany and Hawai’i. After lunch I played some classical pieces on my guitar, answered some emails, and addded a new song and a new article to my website. I’m going to the polyglot conversation group tonight.
The Speculative Grammarian Essential Guide to Linguistics
The good people at the Speculative Grammarian, the premier scholarly journal in field of satirical linguistics, sent me a review copy of their book, The Speculative Grammarian Essential Guide to Linguistics, and asked me if I could write a review. This is what they said:
“Of course, we think the book is quite funny, though you aren’t necessarily expected to agree. Much of our “Advance Praise” for the book is insulting, non-committal, or backhanded, so we aren’t particularly averse to such comments, especially if they are amusing. In fact, as a special offer to the most desirable reviewers, we’re willing to accept a mildly amusing (including insulting, non-committal, or backhanded) review without you having read any of the book.”
This is my, not entirely serious, review:
The Speculative Grammarian Essential Guide to Linguistics book contains 360 pages, some with writing on, some blank, so if you read one page a day it would take almost a year to get through. I don’t have that time to devote to the fine and neglected field of satirical linguistics, so I skimmed through it, reading bits here and there, and looking at the pictures. I even got some of the jokes.
The articles are a selection of the best ones from the Speculative Grammarian website brought together in one place for your convenience, with extra introductions, appendices and other bits. The articles cover all aspects of satirical linguistics from definitions of linguistics (inconclusive) to field linguistics (what to pack, etc), and also linguistic love poetry and a guide to mytholingual creatures. Some articles should be approached with extreme caution only by highly trained stunt linguists. You have been warned!