Danes mind their language
Interesting piece on language and identity. And very interesting that the writer, when he talks about how we speak in Ireland, doesn't mention how heavily we are influenced by our native language, Irish (Gaelic) -- nor the fact that it is dying fast. My apologies for the long post, but the piece is "subscription only".
By Brendan Killeen, in The Irish Times.
"Letter from Copenhagen:
Danish ducks "rap". That is to say that they do not "quack". Dogs don't "woof", they "vow". Cows "muu", pigs "øf", and so on. In an international marriage, this has surprising impacts. Old MacDonald is a minefield.
"Those animal picture books where you point at a picture and imitate the sound the animal makes are too contentious to be bothered with -- at least in the open. We take turns putting our son to bed so every second night. I can make 'quack-quack' sounds to my heart's content, albeit in a whisper.
"If the famous linguist Noam Chomsky is right, 'language provides a link to the character of our mental processes'. In other words, language and the way we use it says a lot about how we think and ultimately who we are. In this light, the battle to teach a child to say one thing rather than another reflects a bigger battle to imbue your child with your attitude and outlook.
"Danes speak literally. They also think logically. It's a dangerous combination. Ask a Dane if he can play a violin, the joke goes, and he will answer: 'I don't know, I haven't tried'. It's not a funny joke but that's the point -- this literal approach is maddening for non-Danes and results in the strangest conversations.
"'Have we got lights for the bikes?' I asked my wife recently after dinner at a friend's place. 'Yes', she replied. 'But they're at home.' I almost choked. Nobody else batted an eyelid. Why would they? It was a perfectly reasonable answer to a Dane. Imagine your child growing up like that!
"Unfortunately, as an Irishman, I don't have a leg to stand on when it comes to the use of language. We don't speak -- we communicate through a 'half-talk code of mysteries, the wink-and-elbow language of delight', as Kavanagh called it.
"'Will you have a cup of tea?' asks person A, putting the kettle on. 'No, I'm in a terrible hurry', says person B, taking off their coat. 'A half cup then', says person A. That conversation would make no sense to a Dane.
"To be fair, Chomsky himself might be confused with that one. On the other hand, I'm sure he would have lots to say about the political campaign that is in full swing here ahead of next Tuesday's general election.
"Despite involvement in the war in Iraq, immigration rather than nation-building abroad is the dominant topic. A central theme of the anti-immigration campaign is the presumption that the Danish language and ultimately Danish culture, are at risk as a result of 30 years of immigration, mostly from countries in the Middle and Far East.
"'To sprogede børn' -- or two-languaged children -- are the children of immigrants who speak Danish at school but resort to another language at home or with their friends. [Has he never heard the term "bilingual"? - N] Statistics are bandied about wildly as to how many of these children leave school without being either able to read or write Danish properly. The argument goes that 'to sprogede børn' are now so prevalent in Copenhagen that the standard of Danish is dropping generally in schools.
"It is difficult to back these statements up with hard facts but there is no doubt that some immigrants make little or no effort to blend in here. On the other hand, free language classes taking place across the country every night are packed to the rafters with desperate foreigners -- me among them -- trying to turn words spelt 'gade' (street) in to something that is pronounced 'gelh' or 'mad' (food) into something resembling 'melh'.
"Fighting the current election campaign on a mandate of forced 'culturalisation', several parties are promising to put more pressure on immigrants to speak Danish. Removing information in English from hospitals is just one of the options being mentioned. That may not only be extreme -- it may prove dangerous. Having said that, long-term residents here should learn the language.
"The problem is that some of these parties ultimately want to turn all immigrants into Danes.
"Even if every immigrant -- including me -- started speaking perfect Danish in the morning, it would only be a veneer of Danishness. I would still keep drinking half-cups of tea and -- in my head, at least -- ducks would keep quacking. In other words, we will never be Danish and our kids will be Danish with a twist. That doesn't mean they won't respect or indeed enhance Danish culture.
"Ireland, watch out, immigration is a fact of life and we can learn a lot from Denmark. Rather that attempting to reduce a rainbow of nationalities to a monotone of green, maybe we should consider adding a few tones to what it means to be Irish. The Danes will have to do something similar -- many people here just haven't realised it yet."
Full text (subscription)
See also In defence of 'lost' languages at the BBC where Mark Abley says, "The point is that it's not just picturesque details that are lost if a language dies out, it's also a whole way of understanding human experience."
And when a language dies, its body of literature generally dies too.
Interesting piece on language and identity. And very interesting that the writer, when he talks about how we speak in Ireland, doesn't mention how heavily we are influenced by our native language, Irish (Gaelic) -- nor the fact that it is dying fast. My apologies for the long post, but the piece is "subscription only".
By Brendan Killeen, in The Irish Times.
"Letter from Copenhagen:
Danish ducks "rap". That is to say that they do not "quack". Dogs don't "woof", they "vow". Cows "muu", pigs "øf", and so on. In an international marriage, this has surprising impacts. Old MacDonald is a minefield.
"Those animal picture books where you point at a picture and imitate the sound the animal makes are too contentious to be bothered with -- at least in the open. We take turns putting our son to bed so every second night. I can make 'quack-quack' sounds to my heart's content, albeit in a whisper.
"If the famous linguist Noam Chomsky is right, 'language provides a link to the character of our mental processes'. In other words, language and the way we use it says a lot about how we think and ultimately who we are. In this light, the battle to teach a child to say one thing rather than another reflects a bigger battle to imbue your child with your attitude and outlook.
"Danes speak literally. They also think logically. It's a dangerous combination. Ask a Dane if he can play a violin, the joke goes, and he will answer: 'I don't know, I haven't tried'. It's not a funny joke but that's the point -- this literal approach is maddening for non-Danes and results in the strangest conversations.
"'Have we got lights for the bikes?' I asked my wife recently after dinner at a friend's place. 'Yes', she replied. 'But they're at home.' I almost choked. Nobody else batted an eyelid. Why would they? It was a perfectly reasonable answer to a Dane. Imagine your child growing up like that!
"Unfortunately, as an Irishman, I don't have a leg to stand on when it comes to the use of language. We don't speak -- we communicate through a 'half-talk code of mysteries, the wink-and-elbow language of delight', as Kavanagh called it.
"'Will you have a cup of tea?' asks person A, putting the kettle on. 'No, I'm in a terrible hurry', says person B, taking off their coat. 'A half cup then', says person A. That conversation would make no sense to a Dane.
"To be fair, Chomsky himself might be confused with that one. On the other hand, I'm sure he would have lots to say about the political campaign that is in full swing here ahead of next Tuesday's general election.
"Despite involvement in the war in Iraq, immigration rather than nation-building abroad is the dominant topic. A central theme of the anti-immigration campaign is the presumption that the Danish language and ultimately Danish culture, are at risk as a result of 30 years of immigration, mostly from countries in the Middle and Far East.
"'To sprogede børn' -- or two-languaged children -- are the children of immigrants who speak Danish at school but resort to another language at home or with their friends. [Has he never heard the term "bilingual"? - N] Statistics are bandied about wildly as to how many of these children leave school without being either able to read or write Danish properly. The argument goes that 'to sprogede børn' are now so prevalent in Copenhagen that the standard of Danish is dropping generally in schools.
"It is difficult to back these statements up with hard facts but there is no doubt that some immigrants make little or no effort to blend in here. On the other hand, free language classes taking place across the country every night are packed to the rafters with desperate foreigners -- me among them -- trying to turn words spelt 'gade' (street) in to something that is pronounced 'gelh' or 'mad' (food) into something resembling 'melh'.
"Fighting the current election campaign on a mandate of forced 'culturalisation', several parties are promising to put more pressure on immigrants to speak Danish. Removing information in English from hospitals is just one of the options being mentioned. That may not only be extreme -- it may prove dangerous. Having said that, long-term residents here should learn the language.
"The problem is that some of these parties ultimately want to turn all immigrants into Danes.
"Even if every immigrant -- including me -- started speaking perfect Danish in the morning, it would only be a veneer of Danishness. I would still keep drinking half-cups of tea and -- in my head, at least -- ducks would keep quacking. In other words, we will never be Danish and our kids will be Danish with a twist. That doesn't mean they won't respect or indeed enhance Danish culture.
"Ireland, watch out, immigration is a fact of life and we can learn a lot from Denmark. Rather that attempting to reduce a rainbow of nationalities to a monotone of green, maybe we should consider adding a few tones to what it means to be Irish. The Danes will have to do something similar -- many people here just haven't realised it yet."
Full text (subscription)
See also In defence of 'lost' languages at the BBC where Mark Abley says, "The point is that it's not just picturesque details that are lost if a language dies out, it's also a whole way of understanding human experience."
And when a language dies, its body of literature generally dies too.
Nora posted item above at 2:01 AM | Permalink
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home