Think in 5-D: Learn a Language

There are around 140 language families on the planet. Nearly half of all people speak a language from only one of those families as their native tongue, never mind all those who speak them as second or subsequent languages.

That family is Indo-European, and it includes English, Spanish, Hindi, Russian and some other very big hitters in terms of global speakers.

As the world continues to globalise, we will inevitably lose languages and even entire language families. Some projections suggest we might be down to only five or six major languages by 2500. Of those, only probably Arabic and Chinese stand a chance of being non-Indo-European languages spoken by anyone.

Once upon a time, I scoffed at learning my national language, Irish. What’s the use? Who gives a shit about old myths? Anyhow, it was all tied up with politics and my limited brain could only just about accommodate French.

Now I regret that decision, like I regret not maintaining my knowledge of Attican Greek and Latin, not properly learning Italian, Russian or Turkish, and being so scared by Hebrew and Arabic that I gave up on day one.

Because languages aren’t just interchangeable modes of communication. Each one expresses an entire culture, and even more, a wholly unique way of conceiving of the world. To speak more than one language is to see the world in multiple dimensions at once.

I envy my five year old his bilingualism. It’s a gift I intend to jealously defend for him, and no doubt on occasion even against his future wishes.

If you want to save culture and add literal dimensions to your brain, learn a language. Start today.

Orwell and the Porn Dolphins

Another post on PtS about Burgess’s invented languages today. (I did say there was 10,000 words of this…)

This one is about George Orwell, multicultural Seventies droogs, whether language shapes thought, and Chinese porno dolphins.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Also some rumination on the linguistics of class warfare and the difficulty of predicting the future in fiction.

Don’t curb your lingthusiasm

“Enthusiasm is a supernatural serenity,” Henry David Thoreau once wrote. Lingthusiasm, by contrast, is neither supernatural nor serene.

It’s the state of being excited by language, how it works and how it functions.

It’s about being fascinated by phonemes, seduced by semantics and in love with lexis.

It’s why I’m interested in what invented languages do, because in their artificial creation, they reveal the obsessions of their creators in relation to the generally opaque modes through which we communicate.

Over at the Ponying the Slovos blog, we have become very lingthusiastic recently, inspired in no small measure by the achievements of Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne.

We recognise kindred spirits. Their lingthusiasm is ours. And may be yours too.