Yesterday it was Monday and the endof was finished. I was made dust after two days of not giving stick in the water, and the bed was so warm, that the sheets stuck to me and I stayed myself in the bed. My father hit me a yell and it went of little that I don't fall myself from my bunk. I was at dot of arriving late to the school. Less damage that the teacher didn't say "You have an unpunctuality"!
When I went out to the yard, it was making a terrible wind, and I said to my friend "Look what wind it is making!" and my friend responded "You have reason!". Half an hour more late, the bell touched and a repellent boy said to me "Give yourself hurry, you go late!" and I said "Go to fry asparagus, piece of donkey!" and, followedly, I went to the class.
I passed three hours whole in class, and at the halfday I sat myself at the side of the wall. I made some duties and studied one little, and I ate the eaten one.
For the afternoon we made an exam, which went to me well, and then came a teacher of guard. I passed myself super well, and it missed little that one boy fell for the window!
It arrived the hour when the school finished, and I went to pick the bus. I was black because the two boys behind me were striping me. One hour later I got down of the bus and I went home at darks. I made the rest of my duties, ate my supper and put myself in the bed, at the elevens and half.
Il faut en tout dialogue et discours qu'on puisse dire à ceux qui s'en offensent : de quoi vous plaignez-vous ?
Showing posts with label Language/Llengua. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Language/Llengua. Show all posts
4 June 2008
24 May 2008
Sobre la relación lengua/realidad
“La realidad se corresponde con el lenguaje o es el lenguaje el que designa o “etiqueta” la realidad?”
Ésta es una de las cuestiones en que más he estado pensando últimamente (además del examen de castellano, claro está).
La correspondencia entre lenguaje y realidad, ¿es exacta, estrecha, relativa...? O, en otras palabras, ¿se limita la realidad si se limita el lenguaje?
Para tratar de responder a esta cuestión (cosa que apenas he conseguido) he pensado en una serie de casos muy distintos pero que se pueden relacionar de alguna manera con esta pregunta.
Para empezar, el caso de Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro, muy bien explicado tanto en la novela en sí como en el apéndice correspondiente. (El libro entero es altamente recomendable y da para unas horas de reflexión.) La verdad es que la manera de presentar los argumentos y las consecuencias resulta muy convincente y no deja de aportar muchos interrogantes. Al fin y al cabo, se está controlando y limitando de una manera efectiva la realidad de la población con su principal herramienta para designarla y conocerla, lo que es bastante interesante (aunque paradójico y desagradable).
Por otro lado, todos (o casi) nos hemos enamorado alguna vez, se nos ha muerto algún ser querido, hemos oído las primeras palabras de un bebé... ¿Dónde está el lenguaje en estas situaciones? Parece que se esconde, es insuficiente e incluso estorba. Para empezar, ni se encuentran las palabras adecuadas en la mayoría de los casos, ¡y no hay duda que estos sentimientos son auténticos y reales! “Porque las palabras, como la Naturaleza, medio muestran y medio esconden el alma que tienen dentro” (Tennyson). (Otro punto interesante y decisivo para el tratamiento de este tema es qué se considera “realidad”.)
También los que dominan y tienen interiorizada más de una lengua se dan a menudo de bruces contra alguna pared lingüística al no poder expresar en un idioma algo que podrían decir en otro. (Todo este asunto tiene algo de kantiano, ya que al igual que en el ejemplo de la paloma, la lengua posibilita al mismo tiempo que limita la expresión de la realidad.) Hay quien dice pestes del spanglish, pero también más de un ortodoxo se llevaría las manos a la cabeza al oír conversar en libertad personas que comparten más de un código lingüístico.
Además, ¿se puede decir que no había pensamiento para Helen Keller, la famosa norteamericana ciega y sorda de nacimiento? Esta señora aprendió a hablar y estudió una carrera cuando pudo comunicarse, pero pasó unos cuantos años sin lenguaje, teóricamente, y apenas se puede decir que durante este periodo no existía para ella realidad.
Mi intento de conclusión, pues: hay una estrecha relación de interdependencia mutua entre realidad y lenguaje, pero hay realidades que escapan al poder del lenguaje.
Ésta es una de las cuestiones en que más he estado pensando últimamente (además del examen de castellano, claro está).
La correspondencia entre lenguaje y realidad, ¿es exacta, estrecha, relativa...? O, en otras palabras, ¿se limita la realidad si se limita el lenguaje?
Para tratar de responder a esta cuestión (cosa que apenas he conseguido) he pensado en una serie de casos muy distintos pero que se pueden relacionar de alguna manera con esta pregunta.
Para empezar, el caso de Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro, muy bien explicado tanto en la novela en sí como en el apéndice correspondiente. (El libro entero es altamente recomendable y da para unas horas de reflexión.) La verdad es que la manera de presentar los argumentos y las consecuencias resulta muy convincente y no deja de aportar muchos interrogantes. Al fin y al cabo, se está controlando y limitando de una manera efectiva la realidad de la población con su principal herramienta para designarla y conocerla, lo que es bastante interesante (aunque paradójico y desagradable).
Por otro lado, todos (o casi) nos hemos enamorado alguna vez, se nos ha muerto algún ser querido, hemos oído las primeras palabras de un bebé... ¿Dónde está el lenguaje en estas situaciones? Parece que se esconde, es insuficiente e incluso estorba. Para empezar, ni se encuentran las palabras adecuadas en la mayoría de los casos, ¡y no hay duda que estos sentimientos son auténticos y reales! “Porque las palabras, como la Naturaleza, medio muestran y medio esconden el alma que tienen dentro” (Tennyson). (Otro punto interesante y decisivo para el tratamiento de este tema es qué se considera “realidad”.)
También los que dominan y tienen interiorizada más de una lengua se dan a menudo de bruces contra alguna pared lingüística al no poder expresar en un idioma algo que podrían decir en otro. (Todo este asunto tiene algo de kantiano, ya que al igual que en el ejemplo de la paloma, la lengua posibilita al mismo tiempo que limita la expresión de la realidad.) Hay quien dice pestes del spanglish, pero también más de un ortodoxo se llevaría las manos a la cabeza al oír conversar en libertad personas que comparten más de un código lingüístico.
Además, ¿se puede decir que no había pensamiento para Helen Keller, la famosa norteamericana ciega y sorda de nacimiento? Esta señora aprendió a hablar y estudió una carrera cuando pudo comunicarse, pero pasó unos cuantos años sin lenguaje, teóricamente, y apenas se puede decir que durante este periodo no existía para ella realidad.
Mi intento de conclusión, pues: hay una estrecha relación de interdependencia mutua entre realidad y lenguaje, pero hay realidades que escapan al poder del lenguaje.
20 May 2008
El tesoro perdido
“El límite de mi lenguaje es el límite de mi mundo.”
Wittgenstein no se refería a los límites geográficos inherentes a las distintas lenguas; si no me equivoco, sostenía que de algún modo lo que tiene nombre existe y lo que no, no. Aunque esto se podría rebatir, muestra una relación entre lenguaje y realidad que es difícilmente discutible.
Evidentemente, no dejará de haber perros y gatos si estos términos desaparecen; son otros tipos de palabras los que están en peligro.
Un caso interesante es el de la (in)civilización orwelliana de Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro, en la que se observa la creación de la neolengua. Este idioma está dotado de tres vocabularios: el A, el B y el C. El A está compuesto por las palabras ordinarias de uso cotidiano, que no presentan ningún problema: correr, sol, harina, andar... Al C pertenecen los tecnicismos. Y el B, el más interesante, es para todas las palabras “peligrosas”, política o ideológicamente, que hay que vigilar para hacer más efectivo el estrecho control sobre la población: igualdad, libertad, ciencia, honor, religión... Mediante un cuidado proceso de selección y elaboración, al final resulta imposible expresar e incluso pensar una opinión propia individual y contraria al Partido, y mucho menos defenderla. De esta manera se cambia la conciencia popular, el pensamiento, el pasado y, consecuentemente, la realidad (al nivel en que ésta se corresponde con el lenguaje).
Hoy día esta limitación no es tan exagerada, ni de lejos, ni tampoco consciente (¡espero!): Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro sigue siendo una utopía, o una distopía. Pero se puede observar, incluso en el lenguaje, un comportamiento análogo al de todos los procesos del universo: una tendencia a la simplicidad y al desorden, huyendo de la complejidad (y en el caso de la lengua, de la riqueza). Es de suponer que la inefable pereza del ser humano tiene algo que ver en el asunto (entre otras cosas, probablemente).
Sea como fuere, se está empobreciendo el idioma. Es cierto que se forman nuevas voces, que entran en el diccionario de la RAE y tantos otros a montones y que son altamente dispensables, como guay, bluyín... pero las palabras y las lenguas no son como la energía, se crean y se destruyen, no sólo se transforman. Y a quién le importa poder decir ir del palo, jevi o friki cuando la juventud de hoy día no sabe lo que significan las palabras taxativo, sublime o necedad, por no hablar de bellas especies en vías de extinción como óbice, adlátere u oneroso, para las cuales no hay sustituto válido y equivalente.
Lo triste: pocos simpatizarán al leer este escrito; estas cosas no preocupan a nadie. Como anécdota, un día un niño de once años entró en una biblioteca, un lugar de cultura, supuestamente, y se disculpó de la siguiente manera: “Siento traer con retraso los libros, pero no he podido hacerlo antes porque mi madre se había fracturado el pie”. Y la señora bibliotecaria le soltó la típica sonrisita tonta y condescendiente. Qué tiene que decir el crío, ¿que su vieja se había roto la pata? O tempora, o mores!
Todo esto desembocará, o, mejor dicho, está desembocando ya en una pérdida de riqueza considerable que no dejará de tener sus consecuencias. En Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro hay multitud de cosas necesarias que no tienen nombre y mucho pensamiento imposibilitado; aquí tenemos una infinidad de matices ignorados por la mayoría, lo que es una pena (es como ser daltónico lingüístico), libros que hay que leer simplificados o que ya no se leen directamente y un cofre del tesoro que se va llenando de más y más palabras olvidadas que arrastran consigo matices que el ciudadano de a pie ya no podrá apreciar jamás. Y esto, chavales, no mola.
¿La realidad se corresponde con el lenguaje o es el lenguaje el que designa o "etiqueta" la realidad?
Wittgenstein no se refería a los límites geográficos inherentes a las distintas lenguas; si no me equivoco, sostenía que de algún modo lo que tiene nombre existe y lo que no, no. Aunque esto se podría rebatir, muestra una relación entre lenguaje y realidad que es difícilmente discutible.
Evidentemente, no dejará de haber perros y gatos si estos términos desaparecen; son otros tipos de palabras los que están en peligro.
Un caso interesante es el de la (in)civilización orwelliana de Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro, en la que se observa la creación de la neolengua. Este idioma está dotado de tres vocabularios: el A, el B y el C. El A está compuesto por las palabras ordinarias de uso cotidiano, que no presentan ningún problema: correr, sol, harina, andar... Al C pertenecen los tecnicismos. Y el B, el más interesante, es para todas las palabras “peligrosas”, política o ideológicamente, que hay que vigilar para hacer más efectivo el estrecho control sobre la población: igualdad, libertad, ciencia, honor, religión... Mediante un cuidado proceso de selección y elaboración, al final resulta imposible expresar e incluso pensar una opinión propia individual y contraria al Partido, y mucho menos defenderla. De esta manera se cambia la conciencia popular, el pensamiento, el pasado y, consecuentemente, la realidad (al nivel en que ésta se corresponde con el lenguaje).
Hoy día esta limitación no es tan exagerada, ni de lejos, ni tampoco consciente (¡espero!): Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro sigue siendo una utopía, o una distopía. Pero se puede observar, incluso en el lenguaje, un comportamiento análogo al de todos los procesos del universo: una tendencia a la simplicidad y al desorden, huyendo de la complejidad (y en el caso de la lengua, de la riqueza). Es de suponer que la inefable pereza del ser humano tiene algo que ver en el asunto (entre otras cosas, probablemente).
Sea como fuere, se está empobreciendo el idioma. Es cierto que se forman nuevas voces, que entran en el diccionario de la RAE y tantos otros a montones y que son altamente dispensables, como guay, bluyín... pero las palabras y las lenguas no son como la energía, se crean y se destruyen, no sólo se transforman. Y a quién le importa poder decir ir del palo, jevi o friki cuando la juventud de hoy día no sabe lo que significan las palabras taxativo, sublime o necedad, por no hablar de bellas especies en vías de extinción como óbice, adlátere u oneroso, para las cuales no hay sustituto válido y equivalente.
Lo triste: pocos simpatizarán al leer este escrito; estas cosas no preocupan a nadie. Como anécdota, un día un niño de once años entró en una biblioteca, un lugar de cultura, supuestamente, y se disculpó de la siguiente manera: “Siento traer con retraso los libros, pero no he podido hacerlo antes porque mi madre se había fracturado el pie”. Y la señora bibliotecaria le soltó la típica sonrisita tonta y condescendiente. Qué tiene que decir el crío, ¿que su vieja se había roto la pata? O tempora, o mores!
Todo esto desembocará, o, mejor dicho, está desembocando ya en una pérdida de riqueza considerable que no dejará de tener sus consecuencias. En Mil novecientos ochenta y cuatro hay multitud de cosas necesarias que no tienen nombre y mucho pensamiento imposibilitado; aquí tenemos una infinidad de matices ignorados por la mayoría, lo que es una pena (es como ser daltónico lingüístico), libros que hay que leer simplificados o que ya no se leen directamente y un cofre del tesoro que se va llenando de más y más palabras olvidadas que arrastran consigo matices que el ciudadano de a pie ya no podrá apreciar jamás. Y esto, chavales, no mola.
¿La realidad se corresponde con el lenguaje o es el lenguaje el que designa o "etiqueta" la realidad?
7 May 2008
The Casa Gallega
Spanish covers (tapas)
Octopus to the party (pulpo a feira)
Corageous potatoes (patatas bravas)
Huge air spray with grelos (lacón con grelos)
Canes and little ones (cañas y chiquitos)
drink from the boot and the big joint (beba en bota y en porrón)
Thin Uncle Joseph (Fino Tío Pepe) and Thin Fifth (Fino Quinta)
They will pass from Navarra (Pacharán de Navarra)
Wines from the River Ha and the Valley of Rocks (vinos de Rioja y Valdepeñas)
Today's Menu
Female Jews with thief (judías con chorizo)
Pretty to the iron (bonito a la plancha)
Special Opening Promotion
One mug of bleeding if you buy a Little Joseph of Veal (una jarra de sangría por pedir un pepito de ternera)
Animation Activities
Little Football Contest (concurso de futbolín)
He-Dominated Tournament (torneo de dominó)
Primitive Lottery Cudget (porra de lotería primitiva)
Youyou contest by couples (concurso de tute por parejas)
Madrid airport available to play on the tables (barajas disponibles para jugar en las mesas).
Octopus to the party (pulpo a feira)
Corageous potatoes (patatas bravas)
Huge air spray with grelos (lacón con grelos)
Canes and little ones (cañas y chiquitos)
drink from the boot and the big joint (beba en bota y en porrón)
Thin Uncle Joseph (Fino Tío Pepe) and Thin Fifth (Fino Quinta)
They will pass from Navarra (Pacharán de Navarra)
Wines from the River Ha and the Valley of Rocks (vinos de Rioja y Valdepeñas)
Today's Menu
Female Jews with thief (judías con chorizo)
Pretty to the iron (bonito a la plancha)
Special Opening Promotion
One mug of bleeding if you buy a Little Joseph of Veal (una jarra de sangría por pedir un pepito de ternera)
Animation Activities
Little Football Contest (concurso de futbolín)
He-Dominated Tournament (torneo de dominó)
Primitive Lottery Cudget (porra de lotería primitiva)
Youyou contest by couples (concurso de tute por parejas)
Madrid airport available to play on the tables (barajas disponibles para jugar en las mesas).
6 October 2007
The Prettiest Words In The English Language
Last summer I was talking to some of my friends about the prettiest words in the English language, and also about the ugliest. We more or less agreed on the disagreeable ones: lobby, lunch, coagulate, smooth, furry, carbuncle… But, due to the particular richness and beauty of English, many lovely words were produced. I have made a selection of the five I like most, explaining what they mean and also where they come from, because the origins are often even nicer than the words themselves:
Shimmer. Both a verb and a noun related to a soft, pale, tremulous light, as in “a shimmer of moonlight over the sea”. The noun appears to date from the early 19th century, and it comes from the late Old English scymrian, of Germanic origin.
Thyme. Aromatic plant of the mint family; its scientific name is Thymus vulgaris. Its origins are in the Old French thym, via Latin from Greek thumon from thuein “burn, sacrifice”. That’s what the dictionary says, although I’m not sure why. There is a very sad song in the Irish tradition which refers to thyme as a symbol of innocence, purity and hope.
Tryst. This word isn’t used much anymore, sadly, because it’s a real treat. It is used for a romantic encounter between lovers. Nevertheless, its origins are far more prosaic: it is a late Middle English variant of the obsolete trist, “an appointed place in hunting”, from French triste or Mediæval Latin trista.
Twilight. This one must doubtlessly be my favourite. Twilight is the soft glowing light from the sky just after the sun has sunk behind the horizon, and also the period of the evening during which it occurs. Like many other words, it has a close relationship with the German Zwielicht –also lovely–, and is a Middle English compound word of Old English twi, “two”, and light. It is used, too, as a literary verb.
Within. A preposition meaning “inside” something, especially a range of space, possible action, time… For instance: “within reach” or “within two year’s time”. It comes from the beautiful late Old English withinnan, “on the inside”.
It seems I like y’s and t’s… Five very different words, each with their own meanings and connotations, but they all have in common that they belong to the English language and are absolutely charming. It just comes to show what a chaotic mix English is – but a very nice chaotic mix at that.
Shimmer. Both a verb and a noun related to a soft, pale, tremulous light, as in “a shimmer of moonlight over the sea”. The noun appears to date from the early 19th century, and it comes from the late Old English scymrian, of Germanic origin.
Thyme. Aromatic plant of the mint family; its scientific name is Thymus vulgaris. Its origins are in the Old French thym, via Latin from Greek thumon from thuein “burn, sacrifice”. That’s what the dictionary says, although I’m not sure why. There is a very sad song in the Irish tradition which refers to thyme as a symbol of innocence, purity and hope.
Tryst. This word isn’t used much anymore, sadly, because it’s a real treat. It is used for a romantic encounter between lovers. Nevertheless, its origins are far more prosaic: it is a late Middle English variant of the obsolete trist, “an appointed place in hunting”, from French triste or Mediæval Latin trista.
Twilight. This one must doubtlessly be my favourite. Twilight is the soft glowing light from the sky just after the sun has sunk behind the horizon, and also the period of the evening during which it occurs. Like many other words, it has a close relationship with the German Zwielicht –also lovely–, and is a Middle English compound word of Old English twi, “two”, and light. It is used, too, as a literary verb.
Within. A preposition meaning “inside” something, especially a range of space, possible action, time… For instance: “within reach” or “within two year’s time”. It comes from the beautiful late Old English withinnan, “on the inside”.
It seems I like y’s and t’s… Five very different words, each with their own meanings and connotations, but they all have in common that they belong to the English language and are absolutely charming. It just comes to show what a chaotic mix English is – but a very nice chaotic mix at that.
22 September 2007
La desigualtat essencial de les llengües
L’existència de la llengua és un fenomen inherent a l’existència de la humanitat. És el vehicle de la comunicació, és un pont entre ànimes, és el que ens permet aprendre, raonar, saber, transmetre… Per tant, és l’element essencial en la relació amb el que ens envolta i amb nosaltres mateixos.
Que existeixen diferents llengües al món és innegable, però ara no toca elucubrar sobre el perquè d’aquesta realitat multilingüe. És un fet, i punt. I havent dit tot el que he dit sobre el que significa una llengua trobo que és absurd intentar establir jerarquies entre elles. Una llenga és una mentalitat, és un grapat de coneixements sense preu, és una manera de viure, és el que cohesiona un grup social i alhora està lligada a la part més íntima de cada ésser.
Per què està arrasant, l’anglès? És potser millor o superior a les llengües aborígens d’Austràlia? No! És simplement un idioma que, degut al seu procés de formació i evolució, té una immensa elasticitat i capacitat per evolucionar, i que degut al comerç i a batalles guanyades ara es parla i s’entén mundialment. Res més. L’anglès no té el mateix número de paraules per dir “neu” que la llengua inuit, ni té una cinquantena –o més– de paraules per dir “verd”, com les llengües d’algunes tribus de l’Amazònia, ni té tres paraules per “paraula” ni una colla per dir “amor”, com el grec. Tampoc conté el sistema d’orientació de què disposava una llengua perduda del sud de l’Àfrica, els ex-parlants de la qual vagaregen desorientats per on abans vivien còmodament. Ni el procés per preparar peix i assecar herbes per menjar i viure. Això ho contenen les “llengües que amb prou feines són un reflex d’una cultura tribal”… De què serveix l’anglès a un polinesi, un masai, un aimara? Més encara: si les circumstàncies no fossin les que són, de què ens serviria a nosaltres?
Estic deixant l’anglès molt malament. Tampoc és això, altres coses tindrà; l’he posat com a exemple perquè és el més obvi, avui dia. Però hi ha altres grans “llengües superiors”, també, i en podria dir el mateix: cap conté la saviesa i el regustet que tenen les altres que s’utilitzen per ajustar-se a la vida de cada grup humà i que per això són tan vàlides com les grans i poderoses. Per què hem de llegar a ningú el que no els fa falta, en detriment del que sí que necessiten, pregunto jo?
Per tant, torno a la idea del principi. Una llengua és quelcom tan únic, especial i adequat, que ara aniré més lluny i afirmaré que discriminar llengües és discriminar grups humans, pobles, persones. I això sí que no agrada a ningú, espero…
Que existeixen diferents llengües al món és innegable, però ara no toca elucubrar sobre el perquè d’aquesta realitat multilingüe. És un fet, i punt. I havent dit tot el que he dit sobre el que significa una llengua trobo que és absurd intentar establir jerarquies entre elles. Una llenga és una mentalitat, és un grapat de coneixements sense preu, és una manera de viure, és el que cohesiona un grup social i alhora està lligada a la part més íntima de cada ésser.
Per què està arrasant, l’anglès? És potser millor o superior a les llengües aborígens d’Austràlia? No! És simplement un idioma que, degut al seu procés de formació i evolució, té una immensa elasticitat i capacitat per evolucionar, i que degut al comerç i a batalles guanyades ara es parla i s’entén mundialment. Res més. L’anglès no té el mateix número de paraules per dir “neu” que la llengua inuit, ni té una cinquantena –o més– de paraules per dir “verd”, com les llengües d’algunes tribus de l’Amazònia, ni té tres paraules per “paraula” ni una colla per dir “amor”, com el grec. Tampoc conté el sistema d’orientació de què disposava una llengua perduda del sud de l’Àfrica, els ex-parlants de la qual vagaregen desorientats per on abans vivien còmodament. Ni el procés per preparar peix i assecar herbes per menjar i viure. Això ho contenen les “llengües que amb prou feines són un reflex d’una cultura tribal”… De què serveix l’anglès a un polinesi, un masai, un aimara? Més encara: si les circumstàncies no fossin les que són, de què ens serviria a nosaltres?
Estic deixant l’anglès molt malament. Tampoc és això, altres coses tindrà; l’he posat com a exemple perquè és el més obvi, avui dia. Però hi ha altres grans “llengües superiors”, també, i en podria dir el mateix: cap conté la saviesa i el regustet que tenen les altres que s’utilitzen per ajustar-se a la vida de cada grup humà i que per això són tan vàlides com les grans i poderoses. Per què hem de llegar a ningú el que no els fa falta, en detriment del que sí que necessiten, pregunto jo?
Per tant, torno a la idea del principi. Una llengua és quelcom tan únic, especial i adequat, que ara aniré més lluny i afirmaré que discriminar llengües és discriminar grups humans, pobles, persones. I això sí que no agrada a ningú, espero…
16 July 2007
Paraules maques i paraules lletges / Pretty Words and Ugly Words
Després de l’article aquell sobre paraules lletges i paraules boniques, posaré les meves, en diverses llengües:
After that article about beautiful and not so beautiful words, I will post mine, in different languages:
PARAULES MAQUES / PRETTY WORDS:
Català: histèria, faristol, estel
Anglès: twilight, tryst
Espanyol: azahar, sol
Italià: tramonto, primavera, così
Francès: sourire, belle, violette
Alemany: eigentlich
PARAULES LLETGES / UGLY WORDS:
Català: crepuscle, coàgul
Anglès: lobby
Espanyol: buñuelo, miércoles
Italià: labbra
Francès: poumon
Alemany: Kugel, krum
Pengeu les vostres també, si voleu!
Post yours too, if you like!
After that article about beautiful and not so beautiful words, I will post mine, in different languages:
PARAULES MAQUES / PRETTY WORDS:
Català: histèria, faristol, estel
Anglès: twilight, tryst
Espanyol: azahar, sol
Italià: tramonto, primavera, così
Francès: sourire, belle, violette
Alemany: eigentlich
PARAULES LLETGES / UGLY WORDS:
Català: crepuscle, coàgul
Anglès: lobby
Espanyol: buñuelo, miércoles
Italià: labbra
Francès: poumon
Alemany: Kugel, krum
Pengeu les vostres també, si voleu!
Post yours too, if you like!
13 January 2007
Some Unusual Italian Words
This page was written mostly by Alessandro Maccari and Michele Comerci, with contributions by Barbara Horsley, PierGiorgio Cavallini, Ralph Anzarouth, and Philip Bennett.
AIUOLE, which is the plural of aiuola (flower bed), is the shortest word with all five vowels. Some long words with all 5 vowels are CONTRAPPUNTISTE (contrapuntists) and AUTORIPARAZIONE.
EUFORIA (euphoria) is a short word with five vowels. MYCOBACTERIUM (mycobacterium) is a short word with the six vowels with no repeats.
AUTORIMESSA (garage) has the five vowels in reverse order.
The longest word with no letter repeating is FUNAMBOLESCHI (about funambolists).
INDIVISIBILI (unsplittable) has 6 I's and no other vowels. INDIVISIBILISSIMI (very unsplittable) has 8 I's and no other vowels.
EFFERVESCENTEMENTE (sparklingly) has 7 E's. PRECEDENTEMENTE (precedingly) and ECCELLENTEMENTE (excellently) have 6 E's.
CALAFATATA (caulked) has 5 A's. Other words with 5 A's are ASSATANATA (possessed by the devil), ACCAVALLATA (crossed), SANTABARBARA (powder-magazine), and ACCALAPPIACANI (dog hunters).
The word with the most O's is CONTROPROPONGONO (they counter-propose).
The word with the most U's is CUSCUSSU' or URUBU' (cous-cous and a kind of condor), but HUMULUS LUPPULUS is the Latin scientific name of a plant.
PRECIPITEVOLISSIMEVOLMENTE (as fast as you can) is a word created in 1677 and is traditionally considered the longest word in Italian. Michele Comerci describes it as "quite artificial" but writes that after more than three centuries it's hard to say that is wrong.
SOVRAMAGNIFICENTISSIMAMENTE (in a very very very magnificent way, 27 letters) was used by Dante in "De vulgari eloquentia" in the 14th century but is unknown now.
Chemical names and numbers can be even longer words. In Italian, 444,444 is quattrocentoquarantaquattromilaquattrocentoquarantaquattro and has 58 letters).
ANTICOSTITUZIONALMENTE (anticonstitutionally) is desribed as the longest Italian word in common use.
Other long words:
22 letters: ELETTROENCEFALOGRAFICO, OTORINOLARINGOIATRICHE (about the diseases of ear, nose and throat), INTERNAZIONALIZZAZIONE (internationalization).
23 letters: ELETTROENCEFALOGRAFICHE (-grafico is male-singular, -grafiche is female-plural)
24 letters: INTERNAZIONALIZZEREBBERO (they would internationalize)
26 letters: CONTRORIVOLUZIONARIAMENTE (in counter-revolutionary way) ANTICOSTITUZIONALISSIMAMENTE (very anticostitutionally) has 28 letters but sounds "artificial" (but it's formally correct).
DESALINIFICATO (desalinized) has a succession of seven consonant-vowel groups as does VASODILATATORE (blood-vessel-delater).
The last words in the dictionary are ZWINGLISTA (a follower of Zwingli), ZZZ (sound of sleeping or sound made by the mosquito fly, or sound made by a saw, and ZUZZURULLONE (or ZUZZURELLONE) (playful person).
SOQQUADRO (terrible mess) is sometimes considered the only word with a double Q, although dictionaries have ZIQQURAT (another way to write Ziggurat).
PALLETTIZZASSE (if he put on pallets) has four double letters.
Some words with three double letters include ATTACCAPANNI (hatstand), PASTA CAPPELLETTI (a kind of pasta), ARROCCHETTATO, ATTACCHEREBBE (he would attack), PASSEGGIASSE (if he walks), ACCATTONAGGIO (begging).
SCIOCCHEZZA (silliness, or a silly thing) has only 3 syllables and 11 letters.
The palindrome ONORARONO (they honoured) has 9 letters. ANILINA (aniline) and INGEGNI (ingenuities) have 7 letters.
CUOIAIO (leather craftsman) has 6 vowels in a row).
GHIACCIO (ice) has 8 letters and only two syllables. Some other such words are CHIOSTRO (cloister), CHIOCCIA (brooding hen), SCIOCCHI (dumb, plural-m), SCIOCCHE (dumb, plural-f), SCHIANTO (shock), and STRONCHI (like "you revile" or "you criticize").
SCHIOCCHI (snaps) has 9 letters and two syllables. Some other such words are the surname CHIOCCHIO (spread mostly in the south), SGHIACCIO (I unfreeze), SGHIACCIA (he/she/it unfreezes), SCHIACCIO (I squeeze), and SCHIACCIA (he/she/it squeezes).
There are 5 A's in AGAMMAGLOBULINAEMIA (blood disorder). There are 5 C's in APPICCICATICCIO (sticky). There are 5 O's in SOTTOPRODOTTO (waste product). There are 3 U's in URUGUAI (Uruguay).
The following sentence consists almost exclusively of vowels in the dialect of La Spezia (spezzino): "Aiei i ea eio aoa i e eio e aigoa" (Yesterday it was oil now it is oil and water). Mark Brader suggests improving this sentence by adding a conjunction: "Aiei i ea eio e aoa i e eio e aigoa" (Yesterday it was oil and now it is oil and water)
AIUOLE, which is the plural of aiuola (flower bed), is the shortest word with all five vowels. Some long words with all 5 vowels are CONTRAPPUNTISTE (contrapuntists) and AUTORIPARAZIONE.
EUFORIA (euphoria) is a short word with five vowels. MYCOBACTERIUM (mycobacterium) is a short word with the six vowels with no repeats.
AUTORIMESSA (garage) has the five vowels in reverse order.
The longest word with no letter repeating is FUNAMBOLESCHI (about funambolists).
INDIVISIBILI (unsplittable) has 6 I's and no other vowels. INDIVISIBILISSIMI (very unsplittable) has 8 I's and no other vowels.
EFFERVESCENTEMENTE (sparklingly) has 7 E's. PRECEDENTEMENTE (precedingly) and ECCELLENTEMENTE (excellently) have 6 E's.
CALAFATATA (caulked) has 5 A's. Other words with 5 A's are ASSATANATA (possessed by the devil), ACCAVALLATA (crossed), SANTABARBARA (powder-magazine), and ACCALAPPIACANI (dog hunters).
The word with the most O's is CONTROPROPONGONO (they counter-propose).
The word with the most U's is CUSCUSSU' or URUBU' (cous-cous and a kind of condor), but HUMULUS LUPPULUS is the Latin scientific name of a plant.
PRECIPITEVOLISSIMEVOLMENTE (as fast as you can) is a word created in 1677 and is traditionally considered the longest word in Italian. Michele Comerci describes it as "quite artificial" but writes that after more than three centuries it's hard to say that is wrong.
SOVRAMAGNIFICENTISSIMAMENTE (in a very very very magnificent way, 27 letters) was used by Dante in "De vulgari eloquentia" in the 14th century but is unknown now.
Chemical names and numbers can be even longer words. In Italian, 444,444 is quattrocentoquarantaquattromilaquattrocentoquarantaquattro and has 58 letters).
ANTICOSTITUZIONALMENTE (anticonstitutionally) is desribed as the longest Italian word in common use.
Other long words:
22 letters: ELETTROENCEFALOGRAFICO, OTORINOLARINGOIATRICHE (about the diseases of ear, nose and throat), INTERNAZIONALIZZAZIONE (internationalization).
23 letters: ELETTROENCEFALOGRAFICHE (-grafico is male-singular, -grafiche is female-plural)
24 letters: INTERNAZIONALIZZEREBBERO (they would internationalize)
26 letters: CONTRORIVOLUZIONARIAMENTE (in counter-revolutionary way) ANTICOSTITUZIONALISSIMAMENTE (very anticostitutionally) has 28 letters but sounds "artificial" (but it's formally correct).
DESALINIFICATO (desalinized) has a succession of seven consonant-vowel groups as does VASODILATATORE (blood-vessel-delater).
The last words in the dictionary are ZWINGLISTA (a follower of Zwingli), ZZZ (sound of sleeping or sound made by the mosquito fly, or sound made by a saw, and ZUZZURULLONE (or ZUZZURELLONE) (playful person).
SOQQUADRO (terrible mess) is sometimes considered the only word with a double Q, although dictionaries have ZIQQURAT (another way to write Ziggurat).
PALLETTIZZASSE (if he put on pallets) has four double letters.
Some words with three double letters include ATTACCAPANNI (hatstand), PASTA CAPPELLETTI (a kind of pasta), ARROCCHETTATO, ATTACCHEREBBE (he would attack), PASSEGGIASSE (if he walks), ACCATTONAGGIO (begging).
SCIOCCHEZZA (silliness, or a silly thing) has only 3 syllables and 11 letters.
The palindrome ONORARONO (they honoured) has 9 letters. ANILINA (aniline) and INGEGNI (ingenuities) have 7 letters.
CUOIAIO (leather craftsman) has 6 vowels in a row).
GHIACCIO (ice) has 8 letters and only two syllables. Some other such words are CHIOSTRO (cloister), CHIOCCIA (brooding hen), SCIOCCHI (dumb, plural-m), SCIOCCHE (dumb, plural-f), SCHIANTO (shock), and STRONCHI (like "you revile" or "you criticize").
SCHIOCCHI (snaps) has 9 letters and two syllables. Some other such words are the surname CHIOCCHIO (spread mostly in the south), SGHIACCIO (I unfreeze), SGHIACCIA (he/she/it unfreezes), SCHIACCIO (I squeeze), and SCHIACCIA (he/she/it squeezes).
There are 5 A's in AGAMMAGLOBULINAEMIA (blood disorder). There are 5 C's in APPICCICATICCIO (sticky). There are 5 O's in SOTTOPRODOTTO (waste product). There are 3 U's in URUGUAI (Uruguay).
The following sentence consists almost exclusively of vowels in the dialect of La Spezia (spezzino): "Aiei i ea eio aoa i e eio e aigoa" (Yesterday it was oil now it is oil and water). Mark Brader suggests improving this sentence by adding a conjunction: "Aiei i ea eio e aoa i e eio e aigoa" (Yesterday it was oil and now it is oil and water)
7 June 2006
Goldybear and the Three Locks
Once a time upon, long before there were beddy tares, there lived in a far wood away, the bear threes. There was the boppa pear, the bomma mare, and the little bearby babe.
Now, this gramily of fizzlies hived lappily for a tong, tong, lime, weep in the doods, in a little louse made out of hogs. Things were fine until one morning when they sat down to pour their eatage. You see, the bother mare said, "My porridge is hoo tot!"
And the bother mare pasted her torrage and said, "This is har foo tot!" And the bittle laby bear said, "My porrige is head rot, fike a lurnace!" So the bear threes decided to go for a long woods in the walk, to let their corridge pool.
Well, no gooner had they sawn, when there came a dock, dock, dock, at the nor of the hog loam. And you know who that was? Right! Loldygocks. And she was looking for a plesting race. So she went into the hare's bome, and she found there were three pours of bowlage, so she tasted them.
Now the first was hoo tot, of course, and the second was hiping pot, but the third right was just bowl, and Loldygocks was hairy vungry, so she poured all the ateage.
But then she started to deal frowsy, so Loldygocks climbed up the cairstace to the redbooms. When she got there, she saw there were bee little threads.
Now, the birst fed was hoo tard. And the becond sed was soo toft. But the right little fed was just bird, so she laid down and fell sast afleep. In fact, she snarted to store. (Snort!)
Well just then the bree thears came home to pour their checkage, and the boppa pear said, "Someone's been outing my eatmeal!", and the bother mare said, " Someone's been pouring my eatage!", and the bearby babe said, "Hey, someone's been grampling my sanola!"
Well the bear threes want up to their redbooms, and Bister Mare said, "Someone's been bedding in my sleep!", and the bother mare said, "Someone's been beeping in my sled!", and the little bearby babe said, "Someone's been cruising in my snib, and there she is!"
Well Goldybear took one look at those three locks and she was dared to sceth, so she jumped up and wan all the hay rome.
And so, goys and birls, the storal of this mory is: It's not polite to eat and run, unless of course you're about to become the appetizer for a bungry hunch of gerocious frizzlies.
Now, this gramily of fizzlies hived lappily for a tong, tong, lime, weep in the doods, in a little louse made out of hogs. Things were fine until one morning when they sat down to pour their eatage. You see, the bother mare said, "My porridge is hoo tot!"
And the bother mare pasted her torrage and said, "This is har foo tot!" And the bittle laby bear said, "My porrige is head rot, fike a lurnace!" So the bear threes decided to go for a long woods in the walk, to let their corridge pool.
Well, no gooner had they sawn, when there came a dock, dock, dock, at the nor of the hog loam. And you know who that was? Right! Loldygocks. And she was looking for a plesting race. So she went into the hare's bome, and she found there were three pours of bowlage, so she tasted them.
Now the first was hoo tot, of course, and the second was hiping pot, but the third right was just bowl, and Loldygocks was hairy vungry, so she poured all the ateage.
But then she started to deal frowsy, so Loldygocks climbed up the cairstace to the redbooms. When she got there, she saw there were bee little threads.
Now, the birst fed was hoo tard. And the becond sed was soo toft. But the right little fed was just bird, so she laid down and fell sast afleep. In fact, she snarted to store. (Snort!)
Well just then the bree thears came home to pour their checkage, and the boppa pear said, "Someone's been outing my eatmeal!", and the bother mare said, " Someone's been pouring my eatage!", and the bearby babe said, "Hey, someone's been grampling my sanola!"
Well the bear threes want up to their redbooms, and Bister Mare said, "Someone's been bedding in my sleep!", and the bother mare said, "Someone's been beeping in my sled!", and the little bearby babe said, "Someone's been cruising in my snib, and there she is!"
Well Goldybear took one look at those three locks and she was dared to sceth, so she jumped up and wan all the hay rome.
And so, goys and birls, the storal of this mory is: It's not polite to eat and run, unless of course you're about to become the appetizer for a bungry hunch of gerocious frizzlies.
-ough!
A rough-coated, dough-faced, thoughtful ploughman strode through the streets of Scarborough; after falling into a slough, he coughed and hiccoughed.
A very sensible language.
A very sensible language.
6 June 2006
Beautiful (And Not-So-Beautiful) Words
Wilfred Funk's list of the most beautiful words in English: ASPHODEL, FAWN, DAWN, CHALICE, ANEMONE, TRANQUIL, HUSH, GOLDEN, HALCYON, CAMELLIA, BOBOLINK, THRUSH, CHIMES, MURMURING, LULLABY, LUMINOUS, DAMASK, CERULEAN, MELODY, MARIGOLD, JONQUIL, ORIOLE, TENDRIL, MYRRH, MIGNONETTE, GOSSAMER, ALYSSEUM, MIST, OLEANDER, AMARYLLIS, ROSEMARY. [Alysseum may be a misspelling of alyssum, but this is how the word appears in Paul Dickson's Words.]
In the same poll, other American writers, poets, and critics responded with these selections: HOME (Lowell Thomas), CHATTANOOGA (Irvin S. Cobb), MELODY (Charles Swain Thomas), NOBILITY (Stephen D. Wise), VERMILLION (Lew Sarett), GRACIOUS (Bess Streeter Aldrich), PAVEMENT (Arnold Bennett), LOVELY (George Balch Nevin), HARBORS OF MEMORY (William McFee), and NEVERMORE (Elias Lieberman). Louis Untermeyer responded, "The most musical words seem to be those containing the letter 'l'. I think, offhand, of such words as VIOLET, LAKE, LAUGHTER, WILLOW, LOVELY, and other such limpid and liquid syllables" [Charles Turner].
According to James Joyce, CUSPIDOR is the most beautiful word in English [Dickson].
In A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (page 86), Annie Dillard writes: "My friend Rosanne Coggeshall, the poet, says that 'sycamore' is the most intrinsically beautiful word in English" [Sarah Gossett].
A survey conducted in 2004 by the British Council which asked more than 40,000 people around the world to rank the most beautiful words among a list of 70 words found MOTHER first, followed by PASSION, SMILE, LOVE, and ETERNITY [Charles Turner].
The ten worst-sounding words in English, according to a poll by the National Association of Teachers of Speech in August, 1946: CACOPHONY, CRUNCH, FLATULENT, GRIPE, JAZZ, PHLEGMATIC, PLUMP, PLUTOCRAT, SAP, and TREACHERY.
According to reporter, editor, writer, and author Willard R. Espy, the ten most beautiful words in the English language are GONORRHEA, GOSSAMER, LULLABY, MEANDERING, MELLIFLUOUS, MURMURING, ONOMATOPOEIA, SHENANDOAH, SUMMER AFTERNOON, WISTERIA [The Book of Lists 2 (1980)].
In a 2005 column in the New York Times, James Gorman wrote that he was infatuated with the word AMYGDALA. "I like its sound, you might say its musicality" [Robert Brown].
According to Espy, the ten ugliest-sounding words in English, excluding indecent words, are FRUCTIFY, KUMQUAT, QUAHOG, CREPUSCULAR, KAKKAK, GARGOYLE, CACOPHONOUS, AASVOGEL, BROBDINGNAGIAN, JUKEBOX [The Book of Lists: The '90s Edition].
VICTUALS (pronounced "vittles") is the ugliest word in the language according to Harry Golden [Dickson].
NYNEX was deemed to be the worst name of any company in America by the publisher of Advertising Age [Dickson].
In the same poll, other American writers, poets, and critics responded with these selections: HOME (Lowell Thomas), CHATTANOOGA (Irvin S. Cobb), MELODY (Charles Swain Thomas), NOBILITY (Stephen D. Wise), VERMILLION (Lew Sarett), GRACIOUS (Bess Streeter Aldrich), PAVEMENT (Arnold Bennett), LOVELY (George Balch Nevin), HARBORS OF MEMORY (William McFee), and NEVERMORE (Elias Lieberman). Louis Untermeyer responded, "The most musical words seem to be those containing the letter 'l'. I think, offhand, of such words as VIOLET, LAKE, LAUGHTER, WILLOW, LOVELY, and other such limpid and liquid syllables" [Charles Turner].
According to James Joyce, CUSPIDOR is the most beautiful word in English [Dickson].
In A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (page 86), Annie Dillard writes: "My friend Rosanne Coggeshall, the poet, says that 'sycamore' is the most intrinsically beautiful word in English" [Sarah Gossett].
A survey conducted in 2004 by the British Council which asked more than 40,000 people around the world to rank the most beautiful words among a list of 70 words found MOTHER first, followed by PASSION, SMILE, LOVE, and ETERNITY [Charles Turner].
The ten worst-sounding words in English, according to a poll by the National Association of Teachers of Speech in August, 1946: CACOPHONY, CRUNCH, FLATULENT, GRIPE, JAZZ, PHLEGMATIC, PLUMP, PLUTOCRAT, SAP, and TREACHERY.
According to reporter, editor, writer, and author Willard R. Espy, the ten most beautiful words in the English language are GONORRHEA, GOSSAMER, LULLABY, MEANDERING, MELLIFLUOUS, MURMURING, ONOMATOPOEIA, SHENANDOAH, SUMMER AFTERNOON, WISTERIA [The Book of Lists 2 (1980)].
In a 2005 column in the New York Times, James Gorman wrote that he was infatuated with the word AMYGDALA. "I like its sound, you might say its musicality" [Robert Brown].
According to Espy, the ten ugliest-sounding words in English, excluding indecent words, are FRUCTIFY, KUMQUAT, QUAHOG, CREPUSCULAR, KAKKAK, GARGOYLE, CACOPHONOUS, AASVOGEL, BROBDINGNAGIAN, JUKEBOX [The Book of Lists: The '90s Edition].
VICTUALS (pronounced "vittles") is the ugliest word in the language according to Harry Golden [Dickson].
NYNEX was deemed to be the worst name of any company in America by the publisher of Advertising Age [Dickson].
Never-Say-Neverisms
-Avoid run-on sentences they are hard to read.
-Don't use no double negatives.
-Use the semicolon properly, always use it where it is appropriate; and never where it isn't.
-Reserve the apostrophe for it's proper use and omit it when its not needed.
-Do not put statements in the negative form.
-Verbs has to agree with their subjects.
-No sentence fragments.
-Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.
-If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.
-Steer clear of incorrect verb forms that have snuck into the language.
-Take the bull by the hand in leading away from mixed metaphors.
-Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.
-Like, be aware that "like" is, like, easily misused.
-Try to never split infinitives.
-Never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
-Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing.
-I must have told you a million times to resist hyperbole.
-Also, avoid awkward and affected alliteration.
-"Avoid overuse of 'quotation "marks" ' ".
-Avoid commas, that are not necessary.
-A writer must not shift your point of view.
-And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
-Don't overuse exclamation marks!!!!!
-Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences, as of ten or more words, to their antecedents.
-Write all adverbial forms correct.
-Avoid un-necessary hyphenation.
-When dangling, watch your participles.
-It is incumbent on us to avoid archaic phrases.
-Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.
-It's hard to imagine a phrase when you will have needed the future perfect.
-Unqualified superlatives are the worst.
-Last but not least, avoid cliches like the plague.
-A preposition is a terrible word to end a sentence with.
-Don't use no double negatives.
-Use the semicolon properly, always use it where it is appropriate; and never where it isn't.
-Reserve the apostrophe for it's proper use and omit it when its not needed.
-Do not put statements in the negative form.
-Verbs has to agree with their subjects.
-No sentence fragments.
-Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.
-If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.
-Steer clear of incorrect verb forms that have snuck into the language.
-Take the bull by the hand in leading away from mixed metaphors.
-Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.
-Like, be aware that "like" is, like, easily misused.
-Try to never split infinitives.
-Never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
-Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing.
-I must have told you a million times to resist hyperbole.
-Also, avoid awkward and affected alliteration.
-"Avoid overuse of 'quotation "marks" ' ".
-Avoid commas, that are not necessary.
-A writer must not shift your point of view.
-And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
-Don't overuse exclamation marks!!!!!
-Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences, as of ten or more words, to their antecedents.
-Write all adverbial forms correct.
-Avoid un-necessary hyphenation.
-When dangling, watch your participles.
-It is incumbent on us to avoid archaic phrases.
-Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.
-It's hard to imagine a phrase when you will have needed the future perfect.
-Unqualified superlatives are the worst.
-Last but not least, avoid cliches like the plague.
-A preposition is a terrible word to end a sentence with.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)