The Endangered Alphabets Project

By Simon

Today we have a guest post by Tim Brookes

Example of Tim Brookes carving in Lontara

The Endangered Alphabets Alphabets Project is expanding in several directions at once, and at times my head spins.

The original exhibition of 14 carved version of Article One of the UDHR (thanks to Omniglot) is venturing farther and farther afield. It’s currently in the spacious and airy Sachem Library on Long Island, and is about to be the subject of a profile in the New York Times. You can also find a nice piece in The Atlantic.

The Endangered Poem Project is nearing its goal of having my short poem (on the importance of traditional scripts) translated into 20 endangered writing systems. Ten of those are already carved. This part of the project got a huge boost recently while I was visiting Bangladesh, and made contacts that should produce no fewer than three versions in indigenous languages/scripts from the Chittagong Hill Districts: Chakma, Mro, and Marma.

The most ambitious feature of the Alphabets project, though-and the one that has me sweating-is the World Tour fundraiser. When I started this whole enterprise I thought it would be amazing to be able to take the carvings back to their various countries of origin, so as to raise awareness and discussion on the issue of cultural preservation. Needless to say, I can’t afford to do that on my own, so I’m trying to raise funds on Kickstarter.com to do so. I could really, really use some backing on this, especially as the fundraising window closes in three weeks. Anyone who is interested in helping out (and each backer receives a reward for support) should go to Kickstarter.com. Or at least forward the link to anyone who might be interested.

Thanks!

Tim Brookes

Peu profond

By Simon

Last night I discovered that there doesn’t appear to be a separate French word for shallow, at least when you’re talking about shallow water, dishes or graves – the term peu profond (‘not very deep’) is used in these cases. If you’re talking about a shallow person, mind, writing, novel, film or conversation though, the word to use is superficiel(le), or you can say that they manque de profondeur (lack depth).

This got me wondering whether there is a Latin word for shallow, when referring to water, etc, which didn’t end up in French. According to my Latin dictionary, shallow is brevis, vadōsus or levis. Another Latin dictionary I checked defines brevis as short, vadōsus as “full of shallows, shallow, shoal” and levis as “light, not heavy” or “smooth, not rough”.

The English word shallow first appeared in writing in the early 15th century schalowe, and is possibly related to schald (Old English sceald) – shoal.

Ingrown languages

By Simon

In an interesting book I read recently, What Language Is by John McWhorter, the author discusses why some languages appear a lot more complicated or ‘ingrown’ than others. He gives the example of Persian and Pashto, two Iranian languages spoken in a number of countries in western and central Asia. Whereas Persian has more or less regular and simple verb conjugations, in Pashto the verb endings and other aspects of the language are much less regular. This is because Persian was the language of a large empire in which many people learned Persian as adults, and few did so perfectly, so many of the irregularities and other complex aspects of Old Persian were regularised and simplified. This process didn’t happen with Pashto, so the language is still ingrown.

Other languages that are or have been used as colonial languages or lingua francas with many adults learning them imperfectly have undergone a similar process of simplification. These include English, Mandarin Chinese, colloquial spoken varieties of Arabic, Indonesian and Swahili. According to McWhorter, these languages could be considered abnormal as many of their irregularities and eccentricities have been levelled out. As a result they are relatively easy to learn, or at least somewhat less difficult than more ingrown languages.

One example a particularly ingrown language is Navajo, which even linguists find superlatively forbidding. Some even claim that it’s not possible to learn it after childhood. Apparently none of the Navajo verbs follow a regular pattern, and regularity is notably absent in other parts of the language.

So if you’re struggling to get to grips with Spanish or Mandarin, it might be of comfort to you to remember that you’re not learning Navajo or a similarly ingrown language.

Puzzle

By Simon

This inscription, sent in by a visitor to Omniglot, appears on silver pendant which is apparently Tuareg.

Tuareg pendant

I think it might be South Arabian.

Can you identify the script and/or decipher it?

Germania

By Simon

In an excellent radio adaptation of Lindsey Davis’ novel, The Iron Hand of Mars, that I listened to today, some of the action takes place in Germania Magna, the area of Germania east of the Rhine that at the time (72 AD) was not part of the Roman Empire. At that time many different tribes lived there speaking Germanic, Celtic, Scythian, Baltic and Slavic languages, or ancestors of those languages. In the radio version of the story the Germanic people encountered in Germania Magna, or Free Germany, speak Welsh – an interesting use of a modern language to stand in for an ancient one. There were Celtic tribes in that region at that time, but the languages they spoke probably weren’t quite like modern Welsh.

Germania, or De Origine et situ Germanorum, by Cornelius Tacitus, which was written in 98 AD, provides more information about that region in the first century AD. He mentions a number of languages, including that of the Aestii, “who have the religion and general customs of the Suebi, but a language approximating to the British.” and who dwelled on the “right shore of the Suebian sea”. However, according to this source, the Aestii were probably Balts, ancestors of the Lithuanians, Latvians and Prussians and spoke a Baltic language.

Have you come across other examples of modern languages standing for ancient ones in this way?

Oideas Gael

By Simon

I’ve been having a wonderful time this week at Oideas Gael in Gleann Cholm Cille in Donegal in the north west of Ireland. I can understand most of the Irish I hear here, and my own spoken Irish is definitely improving, as is my ability to sing in Irish (I’ve been doing the sean-nóis class in the afternoons).

As well as hearing and speaking a lot of Irish, I’ve also had opportunities to speak French, German, Czech and Japanese this week with other people on the course – wonderful 🙂

I’ll be heading back to Bangor tomorrow and more regular blog posts will start to appear here again after I get home.

Panceltic concert

By Simon

Last night I went to a great concert in St John’s (Balley Keeill Eoin) at which all the modern Celtic languages were sung and/or spoken, as well as English and French. It was wonderful to hear them all, and I even understood odd bits of the Cornish and Breton, the only Celtic languages I haven’t got round to studying yet.

I think it was the first time I’ve heard Breton spoken and sung live – I have heard recordings before though. I thought that it sounds kind of similar to French, but when you listen closely you realise that it isn’t French at all.

I spoke to various people in Manx, English, Welsh, French and a bit of Irish, and joined in with songs in Manx and Scottish Gaelic at the session in Peel (Purt ny hInshey) after the concert.

An Irish group called Guidewires will be playing in Peel tonight, supported by a Manx group called Scammylt, and before that there’s a talk on Welsh poetry by Mererid Hopwood.

Tomorrow I’m off to Gleann Cholm Cille in Donegal for a week of Irish language and music at Oideas Gael’s Irish Language and Culture Summer School.

Come-all-ye

By Simon

Last night I went to a fascinating talk by Cass Meurig about the history of the crwth (a type of medieval bowed lyre) and its place in Welsh music and tradition, which included songs in Welsh.

After the talk there was a very enjoyable ‘Come-all-ye’ singing session lead by Clare Kilgallon and members of Cliogaree Twoaie (‘Northern Croakers’), a Ramsey-based choir who sing in Manx and English. There were songs in Manx, English, Welsh and Cornish, and I did a Scots lullaby (Hush, Hush, Time to be sleeping).

I think the phrase ‘come-all-ye’ refers to the type of songs known as “Come all ye’s”, which tend to begin with “Come all ye (sons of liberty/ good people/ tramps and hawkers etc) and listen to my song”. That’s according to Dick Gougan anyway. We didn’t actually sing any such songs last night though.