violent-darts:

owl-song:

tuulikki:

worldflower:

with-all-my-woes:

zarekthelordofthefries:

It sure is convenient that all these songs that ostensibly weren’t written in English all rhyme when translated into English, isn’t it, Mr. Tolkien?

yknow what really bothered me for some reason??
he used ‘loud as a train’ or smth similar to describe the balrog’s roar. like, no ok so y’know if this is supposed to have been ‘translated’ like you tell us, then wouldn’t it have been smth other than a train, like a waterfall?
idk it just really bothers me

Clearly he was talking about the train of Glorfindel’s robes which as everyone knows are covered in bells and jingle

1. I mean, he invented the languages he was going to translate, so if a rhyme didn’t work he could change the whole language if he wanted to. But actually, it’s not uncommon for translations (particularly older translations) to try to preserve or at least recreate rhyme schemes. For example, Tolkien translated “Pearl” into rhyming Modern English.

2. The train thing! It’s actually related to how Tolkien presents the hobbits as essentially “modern” characters who then go out and have adventures in the old heroic culture of myth and legend. As Tolkien says, “[The Shire] is in fact more or less a Warwickshire village of about the period of the Diamond Jubilee
” (Letters, 230, #178). It’s very deliberately a part of the language. Think of all the modern, non-medieval things the hobbits have. It’s always a contrast between Modern English (Shire) and Old English (rest of Middle Earth). Even though Tolkien changed some foreign names to make them seem English, the hobbits still have

  • tobacco (pipeweed), a New World crop
  • drink tea in the modern English way
  • potatoes, another New World crop, made more English-sounding as “taters”
  • rabbits/coneys, which were imported to England in the 13th century
  • a regular postal service
  • mantelpiece clocks!

It was a deliberate choice that gave readers us a group of characters who can serve as tour guides to a mythical medieval adventure. Tom Shippey explains it better than I ever could:


There is one very evident obstacle to recreating the ancient world
of heroic legend for modern readers, and that lies in the nature of
heroes. These are not acceptable any more, and tend very strongly to be
treated with irony: the modern view of Beowulf is John Gardner’s novel Grendel
(1971). Tolkien did not want to be ironic about heroes, and yet he
could not eliminate modern reactions. His response to the difficulty is
Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit, the anachronism, a character whose initial
role at least is very strongly that of mediator. He represents and often
voices modern opinions, modern incapacities: he has no impulses towards
revenge or self-conscious heroism, cannot ‘hoot twice like a barn-owl
and once like a screech-owl’ as the dwarves suggest, knows almost
nothing about Wilderland and cannot even skin a rabbit, being used to
having his meat ‘delivered by the butcher ready to cook’. Yet he has a
place in the ancient world too, and there is a hint that (just like us)
all his efforts cannot keep him entirely separate from the past.




Bilbo’s behaviour is solidly anachronistic, for he is wearing a jacket, relying on a written contract, drawing a careful distinction between gain and profit, and proposing a compromise which would see Bard’s claim as running expenses (almost tax deductible). Where Bard and Thorin used archaic words (‘Hail!’, ‘foes’, ‘hoard’, ‘kindred’, ‘slain’), he uses modern ones: ‘profit’, never used in English until 1604, and then only in Aberdeen; ‘deduct’, recorded in 1524 but then indistinguishable from ‘subtract’ and not given its commercial sense till much later; ‘total’, not used as here till 1557; ‘claim’, ‘interest’, ‘affair’, ‘matter’, all French or Latin imports not adopted fully into English till well after the Norman Conquest. It is fair to say that no character from epic or saga could even begin to think or talk like Bilbo.

Basically, if Tolkien does a thing with words, there’s always a very good chance that the professor was having fun with language, and doing it very consciously (see: Mount Doom, name of).

And furthermore, the entire conceit behind the books is that they’re translated into English from the “original” Westron of the Red Book, meaning that a ‘modern’ translator could do whatever he wanted with the language to make it work for the equally modern audience while preserving the same feel/meaning.  Heck, even the characters aren’t named what you think they are (Merry, for instance).

LotR is actually the story of Maura Labingi, BanazĂźr Galbasi, Ranazur TĂ»k and Kalimac Brandagamba. Maura lived at Laban-nec, but left Haubyltalan and SĂ»za altogether, first aiming for a hill-town just outside SĂ»za but eventually for Karnigul (or, in Elvish, Imladris). Maura’s older cousin and dearest friend (in one person) Bilba Labingi lived in Karnigul at that point. 

The extent to which Tolkien goes to present LotR as an edited mediaeval text is actually DELIGHTFUL and also ABSURDLY GREAT; the prologue is actually a provenance and edition litany, explaining which recension of The Red Book he was working from in order to explain its likely oddities and inclusions (or exclusions). 

I have often actually wanted an edition with all known or reasonably extrapolated Westron put back in, because I’m really curious how it would read. 

i got my Esperanto​ copy of the Hobbit the mail yesterday and the riddles all still rhyme. it’s what happens if a lot of effort is put into good translation, you’re meant to not even notice it wasn’t written in your language.

but, holy shit Tolkien

queerwug:

missalsfromiram:

Concept: What if there was a community that observed a prolonged period of silence, during which vocalization was forbidden, on a regular basis (say, one day a week) due to religious/cultural reasons? Such a community would undoubtedly develop a sign language if the tradition was maintained long enough. Deaf members of the community might be admired or accorded an honored status within the context of the day of silence because they would likely be viewed as having no temptation to break the silence. If religious services or ceremonies were conducted on the day of silence, a writing system for the sign language might be developed in order record the prayers and or other signed texts used throughout the day.

Regarding the relationship between the spoken and signed language, the sign language might simply be a signed mode of the spoken language, like Signed Exact English. It might be a different register or dialect of the spoken language, with a greater or lesser amount of grammatical and lexical differences. Or, it might be a completely unrelated language, as American Sign Language is to English. All of these possibilities are attested in various communities which have or historically had sign languages which were used in addition to or instead of the community’s spoken language in various contexts.

This has happened! In a lot of Australian Aboriginal languages and clans, sign languages have evolved as registers to replace dialogue in traditional avoidance relationships, for example a man is supposed to never speak directly to his mother in law, so he either communicates with her via a third person or they use sign languages. Usually the most proficient in these registers and languages are elderly women who’ve had to undergo a long mourning period, during which they aren’t allowed to speak to anyone but can communicate in sign. These women often become fluent and are able to communicate just as efficiently and clearly in sign amongst themselves as they would be able to work a spoken language.

queerwug:

I’m so excited to watch this show! Big Cuz and Little J is a new show coming to NITV in late April. It’s the first animated show to be about Indigenous Australians! The producers seem to be making a conscious effort to consider how this representation is going to affect young aboriginal kids watching and have balanced showing the diversity in Australian indigenous cultures while not generalising in ‘creating a national show’, that all native kids watching can identify with. The show stars Deborah Mailman and Miranda Tapsell which is extra exciting, and is also going to be translated into multiple indigenous languages, with the idea that kids will watch it in English and their native languages both at home and as a learning resource. So far it has been dubbed in Pintinjarra, Arrernte, Wiradjuri, Yawura and Palawa Kani, with hopefully more to come!

things from sappho to call your girlfriend

thoodleoo:

  • ጀστέρωΜ Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ„Ï‰Îœ ᜀ ÎșΏλλÎčÏƒÏ„ÎżÏ‚ (of all the stars, the fairest)
  • πόλυ Ï€ÎŹÎșτÎčÎŽÎżÏ‚ ጀΎυΌΔλΔστέρα, χρύσω Ï‡ÏÏ…ÏƒÎżÏ„Î­ÏÎ± (far sweeter-sounding than the lyre, far more golden than gold)
  • τᜰΜ ጰόÎșÎżÎ»Ï€ÎżÎœ (violet-tressed, one with violets in her lap)
  • ᜊ ÎșΏλα, ᜊ Ï‡Î±ÏÎŻÎ”ÏƒÏƒÎ± Îșόρα (o beautiful, graceful girl)
  • áŒŠÏÎżÏ‚ áŒ„ÎłÎłÎ”Î»ÎżÏ‚ áŒ°ÎŒÎ”ÏÏŒÏ†Ï‰ÎœÎżÏ‚ áŒ€ÎźÎŽÏ‰Îœ (nightingale, sweet-voiced messenger of spring)

allthingslinguistic:

speibecken:

Lakoff argues that the very things career
coaches advise women to cut out of their speech are actually signs of
highly evolved communication. When we use words like so, I guess, like, actually, and I mean,
we are sending signals to the listener to help them figure out what’s
new, what’s important, or what’s funny. We’re connecting with them.
“Rather than being weakeners or signs of fuzziness of mind, as is often
said, they create cohesion and coherence between what speaker and hearer
together need to accomplish — understanding and sharing,” Lakoff says.
“This is the major job of an articulate social species. If women use
these forms more, it is because we are better at being human.”

Language is not always about making an argument or conveying information in the cleanest, simplest way possible. It’s often about building relationships.

A quote from the article “Can We Just Like, Get Over the Way Women Talk?” which is worth reading in full.

Untranslatability and Language Death

queerwug:

thegaylinguist:

selchieproductions:

selchieproductions:

Within pseudo-linguistics, the misconception that some languages have words so unique to themselves that they are untranslatable, is as common as a ‘latte’ in a Starbucks. Articles on the extra-ordinarily peculiarity of words from a vast array of languages, shown off as exhibitions in a curiosity cabinet, are presented as linguistics, when in reality they are to linguistics what the Bible is to an atheist. 

Next to four, or forty, no let’s say 54958 and Ÿ Inuit words for snow, a word like ‘l’ésprit d’éscalier’, so uniquely French that it presumably is not found in English – staircase wit – seems to be a favourite one in these texts. The problem here is that articles dealing with words like the aforementioned ones are sadly read and accepted as true by the vast majority of humans, and yet, the paradoxical in claiming that a world is untranslatable seems to evade most of these people’s minds. 

The main problem here however is not a naĂŻve but harmless fascination with linguistic diversity, but rather the ways in which this naĂŻve fascination has been turned into a less cute ideology of linguistic evolution, which in turn has been adopted by a number of colonial powers throughout history in order to facilitate the expansion of a number of colonial languages. This happened in China, where Mandarin through the use of a common script became the accepted standard language in China, and this happened even more visibly throughout the British Empire, where a false belief that certain languages did not have the capacity to express certain ideas helped English become the global monster it is today.

Untranslatability however is of course a myth; while a specific language may have a more efficient way of expressing a specific thing, this does not mean that another language cannot understand or perceive the same thing. At the same time however, this dismissal of linguistic evolution has in similar ways been used to support colonial powers linguistic expansion. The argument being that if every language is inherently capable of expressing every human experience, then the attempts to save an endangered language seems ridiculous. And indeed, many people argue that language revitalisation programmes constitute a waste of money, precisely because of the fact that they mean that it does not matter what language one speaks, as long as one speaks. 

Or to paraphrase Shakespeare, a rose is a rose no matter what name it is given.

The main fault here however is to mistake language revitalisation for a wish to keep a dying language alive against better knowledge, when what language revitalisation really is, is a way to make sure that human knowledge embedded in a culture’s collective memory is not lost forever. Moreover, when people state that an endangered language cannot possibly be modern enough to express modern concepts, they mistake language for something which, like human society, follows basic ideas of hierarchies. While colonialism and class has created an idea of certain languages as less suitable for human interaction then others – an idea as old as language itself, think of Ancient Greek who gave us the word barbarians, from ÎČαρÎČÎ±ÏÎżÏ‚, i.e. someone who can’t speak proper Greek – it is important to realise that no language is better suited than another to express a certain idea. Ayoreo-Totobiegosode, a language spoken by some 340 people in Paraguay is as capable of adapting to changing circumstances as say English.

No language is inherently weaker than another language, and to believe that e.g. English is more suitable for scientific debates than say a near-extinct language in the Great Western Australian Desert is to misunderstand the way language functions in the first place. A language creates words for new phenomena whenever it needs a word to describe a new thing, and this ability to invent new words is inbuilt in all human languages. 

While it is foolish to talk of the Gaelic word cianalas as untranslatable, or to deem another language as inferior for not having a one-word translation of the same, the existence of the word does say things about the ways in which the Gaelic culture has chosen to interact with the world. In other words, to quote Nettle, ‘the vocabulary of a language is an inventory of the items a culture talks about and has categorized in order to make sense of the world and survive in a local ecosystem’. Thus, whenever a language dies, an entire wealth of knowledge relating to a specific area of expertise is lost, be it marine life as with many Oceanic languages, or snow as is the case among many reindeer herding tribes such as the Evenk and the Saami.

Let me give you a couple of examples to demonstrate what I mean by cultural linguistic diversity; in English, if I were to say ‘Iàin killed his wife’, most native speakers would assume that Iàin was an evil man who killed the woman he had married, but the truth is that the use of his in this sentence is ambiguous. Technically his wife could have referred to another man’s wife, say Sean’s wife, as his is used to refer to both his – someone else, and his – his own. In Swedish however, this ambiguity is avoided by the use of two different words; when referring back to one’s own possessions, or in this case one’s own wife, the word sin is used, whereas someone talking about something belonging to another man – his – would use the word hans. Swedish cultural practice has in other words seen it important enough to create a word to describe this difference.

Similarly, where Finnish does not bother to distinguish between gendered pronouns, and the word hÀn is used to refer to both males and females, English on the other hand uses three gendered pronouns, i.e. he, she and it. 

In Japanese, counting becomes a veritable task, as the make-up of an object is essential for the speaker to decide what count-word to use, whereas several other languages deems it impractical to have any count-words for numbers above say five.

The only thing these examples show however, is that human existence is a diverse thing, and that given time, the inherent wish to communicate will create ways of talking about culture specific things in very efficient and incredibly detailed ways. That a Gael is ‘in his teacher’ if he is a teacher (tha e na thìdsear), whereas an English-speaker simply is a teacher does not mean that Gaelic is in any ways more or less peculiar than English. That the Hawai’ian language has ways of distinguishing possession depending on whether a thing is alienably or inalienably possessed, whereas Gaelic on the other hand does not have a verb to express possession does not in any way prove that a language can have untranslatable words or concepts, it merely shows that the culture in which a language is spoken has deemed it important to create linguistic definitions for some very culture specific things. 

I feel like this needs to be reblogged again.

when i talk passionately about how the “untranslatable words” stuff is nonsense, this is why. it’s not because i’m trying to ruin everyone’s fun (i’ve been occused of this), but because the concept is rooted in harmful (and potentially oppressive) misconceptions about language.

This even shows in conlangs that have been created for a specific purpose; languages having an intended use does not mean they can’t be applied to other contexts. Klingon was written to be used in a very specific environment, to sound extremely stilted even when translated, with no rules for taking in loan words and yet it can and had been used for everyday communication and even as a native language! You can write complex poetry and stories in pidgins, you can do maths in aesthetic conlangs and làadan. If languages that are created with very specific goals can still manage to adapt to new and unprecedented contexts then surely natural languages that have evolved over millennia to explore a range of situations and contexts can.

Also, “untranslatable” is usually used to mean “untranslated directly into English.” Which is definitely colonialist, but also wrong! Those aesthetic posts with “untranslatable words” are always FOLLOWED BY A TRANSLATION. Like, you have clearly just translated this yourself, right now, or googled it, and seen someone else translation, and understood what they meant in the target language, WHICH IS THE DEFINITION OF TRANSLATION

allthingslinguistic:

ms-robot:

themightyif:

magess:

dontgiveupjulia:

gothhabiba:

useless-swedenfacts:

my biggest pet peeve wiht the english language is that you don’t have sin/sina

in swedish if u have two people who use the same pronoun u can always tell whos doing what bc its like ‘han tog sin vĂ€ska’ (he took his[own] bag) and ‘han tog hans vĂ€ska’ would be that he took the other persons bag

but in english its like if u have 2 ppl w/ the same pronoun:

“she took her bag” whose bag????WHose BAG was it her OWN bag or the other her’s bag??????????????

“he ate his donuts” were the donuts his own???? did he fucking eat someone elses donuts??? YIU DONT KNOW bc english is a bullshit language 

also known as, the gay fanfiction dilemma

We have the same problem in portuguese

That’s very cool. I want this -own pronoun.

The obscurity mentioned in the OP doesn’t exist, though. If it’s unclear what antecedent a pronoun refers to, it’s an error. It’s an error that happens a lot, for sure, but it’s improper English grammar when it happens. There’s a page on this here.

In most cases, it’s pretty clear, though. In the above, without any other framing to confuse the situation, the donuts are his own and the bag is her own. The pronoun must refer back to an antecedent, and “he” and “she” in each example are the only available antecedents.

(That’s not to say that sin/sana might not allow more flexible sentence structure. It’s just that unclear antecedents should not be a thing in properly constructed English.) 

You *could* clarify by using “own”. Like, “She took her own bag.” It would sound awkward because it’s grammatically unnecessary, but it would clarify the situation if it *was* something where you were finding it confusing.

I’m under the impression that this is not “improper” grammar. If you mean improper in a prescriptivist way, then yeah, this seems like one of the more useful arbitrary rules I’ve seen. But I certainly don’t register anything as ungrammatical in the above sentence.

@allthingslinguistic care to share anything?

Yeah, this is a prescriptivist error. Unlike many prescriptivist errors, this is probably actually good writing advice (you generally don’t want to confuse people!), but there’s nothing GRAMMATICALLY wrong with being unclear. 

In fact, constructions like this are used in some areas of linguistics to demonstrate several interesting things about pronouns. For example: 

Every girl loves her mother. –> “her” can refer to every girl’s own mother, or to some specific other female person’s mother, it’s ambiguous.

Her mother loves every girl –> “her” can only refer to some specific other female person’s mother, not every girl’s own mother. 

Every girl is loved by her mother –> “her” can refer to every girl’s own mother, or to some specific other female person’s mother, it’s ambiguous.

Her mother is loved by every girl –> Her mother loves every girl –> “her” can only refer to some specific other female person’s mother, not every girl’s own mother. 

I’m not going to recap all of Binding Theory here, but here’s a link to it on Wikipedia and if nothing else, you’ll notice that there are tons of examples of ambiguous pronouns! 

Even more interestingly though, this puts us onto looking at how other languages solve the gay fanfiction problem.  

For example, in French,* third singular possessive pronouns don’t make any distinctions for the gender of the person they refer to (i.e. “her book” and “his book” is both “son livre”).  

You’d think this would make French fanfiction confusing regardless of the gender pairing, but in fact body parts are customarily referred to with the reflexive/indirect object pronoun + definite article, so rather than “elle prend la main” (she takes her/his hand) you get “elle se prend la main” (literally, she takes the hand to herself; idiomatically, she takes her own hand) versus “elle lui prend la main” (literally, she takes the hand to him/her; idiomatically, she takes [other person’s] hand). 

I don’t think you can do this with things that aren’t body parts though, so something like “elle se prend le livre” is not a good French sentence – you’d have to say the ambiguous “elle prend son livre” (she takes his/her book). So French is doing okay at M-rated gay fic but Swedish is still winning at Gen fic. 

*I think most of this (maybe all?) is true for other Romance languages as well, but French is the one I speak best. 

HOWEVER, languages that have logophors give Swedish a run for its money. Here’s Ewe for example, shamelessly cribbed from Wikipedia since I don’t speak any languages with logophors: 

Kofi be  yÚ-dzo
say LOG-leave
‘Kofii said that hei left.’    

Kofi be  e-dzo
say pro-leave
‘Kofii said that he/shej left.’

As we can see, “Kofi said that ye left” means that Kofi himself (i.e. whoever the speaker is) left, whereas “Kofi said that e left” means that someone who is not Kofi/the speaker left. Logophors refer to a type of pronoun that is only used to refer to someone who is the same as the speaker. 

So Ewe does not solve the gay fanfiction “he took his hand” problem as far as I can tell, but it does beat Swedish at the perhaps even more important “he said that he loved him, but the only thing was
he didn’t love him back” angsty gay fanfiction problem.Â