Monday, July 19, 2010

Korean Question

I was studying Korean on a Byki program and came across this sentence fragment "...ko shipeundeyo" means "I would like ...". Fair enough. But Korean is an inflected language, like Latin or German, so it is necessary to know what suffix the word for the desired object would use. There are too possibilities here: one is that the desired object requires the accusative suffix (-reul or -eul); if so, the sentence "I would like a rabbit" would be "Tokkireul ko shipeundeyo". The other possibility, which I am inclined to favor in the absence of a grammar, is that the "ko" is the direct object of "shipeundeyo" and that the desired object would take the topic suffix (-ga or -i). Thus "I would like a rabbit" would be translated as "Tokkiga ko shipeundeyo", which is literally "As for the rabbit, I would like it." This structure, if correct, would be parallel to the structure of the question "Where is the hotel", which is "Hoteri eodi isseoyo", literally, "As for the hotel, where is [it]?". But if somebody who speaks Korean could clarify this for me, I would greatly appreciate it.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Palawa Kani

I am an enthusiast of languages, especially those that are moribund or reconstructed, but Palawa Kani is one of a kind. The individual features of the language are not extraordinary: many languages are creoles, or the language of post-colonial aborigines, or treated as cultural artifacts, or inspired by a need for cultural unity. I have never seen a language that combines these features in such a way, and I am simultaneously impressed and skeptical of its success.

Palawa Kani is a Aboriginal Tasmanian creole intended as a cultural language for the descendants of pure-blooded Tasmanians; it is constructed from the extant words of the Tasmanian languages and set to English word order. The Tasmanian government, in a fit of either white guilt or mainland cultural envy, is willing to support the idea. Once the idea of the savage has been abandoned, governments often promote the idea of the noble savage.

The paucity of extant Tasmanian Aboriginal words is a boon here; several endangered languages of the world do not help themselves by debating which of the dialects, all with too few people, should be the official one. The two camps of the Cornish revivalists have reconciled warring orthography (but two pronunciations) and issued official workbooks for their new Welsh-style creches, but then it's hard to get EU funding without official materials. A language that has been gutted, such as one of the languages of the California coast, may have no option, lacking sufficient grammar, other than making sacred the few remaining words.

The Tasmanian adoption of English seems to have left the languages bereft of current technological terms, although the technological level of the aboriginal population at the time of the European arrival suggests that the terms never existed. Avoidance of neologisms is a quick way to kill a fragile language; even if the language is intended as a second language and meant to place emphasis on the differences, such as the deliberately hamstrung Toki Pona, a healthy language must be able to coin new phrases, if not new words. The phrases will wear down to words later. One of the difficulties that Welsh, otherwise a relatively healthy minority language, faces is the use of Welsh in only certain contexts, even though the Cymrophones could use it in other situations.

The characterization of Palawa Kani as a creole is linguistic rather than judgmental, and the extant resources and speakers suggest a creole as the realistic option, but the associations of the word 'creole' are a liability. Creoles in Australia have names like Broken, indicating the low esteem in which they were held, and the breeding grounds were miserable camps. The use of English word order (SVO, modifier before modified word) is not far off from the syntax of global creoles (even though English IMO never was a creole), and if divergent word order is sufficient to break with tradition, then the SVO order of Modern Hebrew indicates it is not a "true" descendant of Biblical Hebrew, in which the word order is VSO. The absence of grammatical number in the 2nd personal pronoun, however, seems a little odd outside of English or a tongue which dispenses entirely with the plural; most languages which do not mandate a plural form at least possess a way of forming one if it is absolutely necessary. The holes in the grammar presumably are the result of a developing project.

This is a very new tongue, but unlike the Native American languages, it seems to have some funding and enthusiastic participants. When I first examined Washo, it seemed in a more perilous state than now. I look forward to seeing how Palawa Kani develops and thrives.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

I'd Hate To Be A Boy At Hebrew School on the Weekend

I have reached the chapters in my Biblical Hebrew book which deal with irregular verbs; these appear to compose the bulk of the book. Now I can see why the rabbis felt the need to put vowel points; the “tense” can remain recognizable while the correct pronunciation is still hidden, the opposite of European languages. That semantic transparency is also one of the beauties of Egyptian hieroglyphs, the study of which I have been neglecting while I concentrate on Hebrew.


As I have progressed in Hebrew, I have discovered the underlying reason why the Semitic languages are described as “heavily lexicalized”, i.e., you have to know the language well to read it. The interwoven structure of consonants and vowels makes unnecessary (at least for the fluent L1 speaker) many of the prefixes, suffixes, and qualifiers found in other languages. There is no grace period in which the foreigner with stumbling tongue can recognize affixes by which he may find meaning. I suppose I should be glad I am not studying Arabic, with its plethora of broken plurals and guttural consonants that are actually pronounced.