Friday, August 1, 2008

You're a linguist - talk to them!

Another short entry tonight, as I'm leaving in the morning for Chicago. Spending two weeks with my parents, and it should be a blast. I hope I'll be able to post daily and will do my best, but technical details may need to be figured out, so I'll take Saturday night off and try back on Sunday.

Today I decided that the title of this entry should be, "You're a linguist - talk to them!" This is in fact my signature line at some of the forums I visit, and was my favorite line from the movie "Stargate." When I first saw Stargate I wasn't exactly a linguist yet, but I'd done enough of it to realize what a choice line this was.

Because, in a nutshell, linguists are not necessarily translators.

In science fiction when you have linguists on a planet they're usually out to record the language, analyze it, grasp its structure and then move on to really speaking it with the aliens. Theoretical linguistics starts with language patterns like sounds, word subparts, word order, etc. and then moves on to the larger social questions as you move from pragmatics into sociolinguistics. The deeper you go into a given language, the more speaking it becomes an advantage, but at the beginning stages it's not strictly necessary. And the skill of a translator is far, far more than simply the ability to speak a language. For me at least, when I speak Japanese or French I'm thinking in those languages, and purposely not translating because it slows me down. I have great respect, awe and amazement for simultaneous translators. I couldn't do it.

As a linguist you have to stand back from the language a little so that you can analyze what you hear (or think). Often as a native speaker of a language you can be defeated by how subconscious your own knowledge is.

My favorite example of this comes from the study of politeness. If you ask a professor to lend you a pen, you won't do it quite the same way as if you're asking your mom, or your best buddy. But if someone gives you the question: "You're asking your professor for a pen, what do you say?" - and here's the punchline - your answer is likely to be wrong. So if you write your answer down, and then tape yourself the next time you actually do ask your professor for a pen, the two probably won't match.

This is because when we have to answer questions about what we say, we don't actually explain what we would say - we explain what we think we should say. Our actual use is subconscious.

One last thought on the Stargate movie. I was always pretty impressed with the way they handled language. They had the linguist, who had constructed a theoretical pronunciation system for a language he thought was "dead" and only existed in hieroglyphics, sitting in front of those hieroglyphics and comparing notes with a living speaker who actually spoke the language natively. And the linguist figured out the basic pattern of sound change and somehow managed to learn to speak it. Far-fetched? Sure, especially at the speed with which he accomplished it. But someone had really thought that through, and even with my current knowledge of linguistics, I still think it was very well done.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

How language learners speak

Just a short post for tonight, so please do ask me to follow up on this topic if you find it interesting. I was out on the Absolute Write forum today and the topic of language learning came up - one of the writers there was working with a character who spoke Arabic but was learning English, and trying to figure out how to portray her speech.

A number of people on AW gave advice about the sound structure or grammatical structure of Arabic - and it's true that the structure of a person's native language has an influence on the way that person speaks a new language. Others suggested that this writer go out and find a native Arabic speaker learning English to get a good language sample - certainly an excellent approach.

But there's more to the issue. It reminded me in some ways of the discussion of dialects we had here on this blog, because portraying speech errors in a sensitive way is equally difficult. The moment I think about altering spelling to reflect pronunciation errors, my internal alarm bells start going off. You can always go with word order, grammar and vocabulary usage, which is somewhat easier (and research on language learning sequences can help guide you on that). On the other hand, I had a character recently who gave me a lot of trouble, because he was supposed to be a native Chinese speaker who spoke perfect English but was putting on a strong Chinese accent. And every time I tried to contract his syntax, I felt I was losing the depth I wanted this character to have - that he was becoming to the reader what he was only pretending to be. In the end I went with greater language complexity, and a description of his accent.

The one thing that no one had yet addressed at AW (before I got there :) ) was discourse - the higher-level strategies that language learners use to get through a difficult interaction.

The first and foremost approach that a language learner will take in a tough spot is silence. I've been there - listening and listening but unable to respond. People often choose to stay silent in order to avoid mistakes. Another type of silence strategy is avoidance. Language learners will try to avoid grammar areas that cause them trouble, or vocabulary they don't know, by talking around the problem area. Avoidance also means that very often in conversation, language learners will make abrupt topic changes - when their resource pool for a particular topic runs out, they will switch to another (often without warning or explanation).

I would just encourage anyone dealing with language learners to remember that silence and avoidance are strong learner strategies - and best of all, they are among the easiest to portray in text without the risk of inadvertently ridiculing the learner.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Cool Japanese Ghosts

It was really exciting to respond to those comments on designing languages, and I'm always open to more discussion of questions, but tonight I want to do something different. I'm going to talk about Japanese ghosts and spirits.

I didn't learn about these ghosts through manga (sometimes these are created by the authors), and I didn't learn about them until after I'd been living in Japan for most of a year, but I love them. They were first chronicled in English by Lafcadio Hearn, who lived in the city of Matsue, Japan starting in 1890, and became a Japanese citizen. His house still stands in the city of Matsue, and they also have some really cool statues of ghosts. If you want to explore the full variety of Japanese ghosts, you can visit a website called "The Obakemono Project" and get an extensive list, with pictures. http://www.obakemono.com/

This list doesn't include dragons, which I guess fall into their own category. But the ghosts do include creatures like the tengu, a goblin creature that is both birdlike and manlike, and can change its form into that of a wandering priest. Then there's the kitsune or fox, who can change its form and appear to be a woman (sometimes with a tail). The tanuki (roughly translated as raccoon-dog) is a mischievous creature and can change its form as well, as can the scary bake-neko or ghost cat. In fact, obake-mono translates literally as "change creature."

A noppera-bo will appear to be someone so upset that they are hiding their face, but when they finally turn to you, you'll discover they have no face at all, but a smooth egglike complexion. The rokuro-kubi seem normal by day, but at night their heads fly off their bodies and make mischief, sometimes attached to the body by a long rope of flesh!

These are some of my favorites, but I couldn't possibly list them all here - I'll let you explore The Obakemono Project for that. What I do want to comment on, though, is the way the Japanese ghosts have characteristics that make them particular to Japanese cultural concerns.

Consider for example the laughing woman (kera-kera onna), who haunts people by laughing derisively.

Or consider the "ghosts" caused by neglect: the two-mouthed woman (futakuchi onna) which is essentially a normal woman who grows another mouth because she's been neglected; the karakasa-obake which results from the neglect of an umbrella; another which results from the neglect of shoes, and a host of other objects that take on spirits of mischief if they're left untended. There's also the tenjo-name, a creature who licks dirty neglected ceilings.

I'll close by going back to the idea of obake-mono as "change creatures." Among the vast number of Japanese cultural concepts we find tatemae (front, facade) and honne (true feeling). Different value is placed on maintaining one's polite face, and showing one's true feelings, depending on the circumstances - so it should come as no surprise that deception, change, and the revelation of the true nature of a creature would feature so prominently in the Japanese ghosts.

I'll leave it up to you to think about how our own Western ghost creatures might reflect our cultural concepts. But I hope you feel inspired to consider superstition as an area ripe for exploration in the creation of fantastical or science fictional peoples.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

More about Designing Languages

After my post on designing languages I had comments (here and on the Analog forum) from three people, which I thought I'd follow up on tonight.

Bill Gleason asked about translators.

A universal translator like the one in Star Trek is effectively a deus ex machina, an intervention on the part of the designer to allow us to bypass the real problems of different languages.

A mechanical translator can do a lot when it comes to predictable language structures - finding word boundaries by identifying repeating sets of sounds, tracking the structure and the sequence of those words. A really snazzy neural-network-style translator would probably also be able to do a good job of tracking phrases that repeat, and be able to do fuzzy categorization of words so it could capture exceptions to rules and things like that. It would also be able to do meaning to a certain extent, but I'm not sure how it would push past literal meaning to social meaning, for example. I suppose it would have to depend on how high you assumed the technology was.

I think it would be really interesting to have a translator machine that was really helpful but also limited in predictable ways. One issue a really "universal" translator would have to address would be how to incorporate information from the surrounding visual and social context - and that would be very tricky. Certainly it would require a device that could follow things like eye gaze and body position.

Bill also asked about body language. I talked about that yesterday so I won't go too deep, but if you assume that two groups of aliens are each able to identify discrete objects in their environment, then I think there would be a high likelihood that pointing would be used by both. Beyond that, a human trying to interpret alien gestures would need to be very sensitive to surrounding context and remember not to make assumptions about natural meaning for a given gesture. A shoulder-lift might not mean the same as a shrug, or possibly the alien might use an eye-gaze gesture similar to ours, but that is not accompanied by a shoulder motion. I don't think it's too far out to have two alien groups reach a basic level of mutual comprehension, but watch out for places where categories of objects are defined differently.


Tom Ligon brought up two very interesting ideas: a language based on bioluminescence, and a sound-based language with such vast range that human sounds seem undifferentiated.

Fireflies communicate by bioluminescence, but in a very simple way ("Where are you?" "Here I am!"). For a species with such a language to be able to grasp that humans are communicating, they would have to have an awareness of sound and its potential for carrying messages. They might even have unique alternate means to communicate via sound, as humans have used Morse code on Aldiss lamps, or semaphore (with flags).

As far as the language with vast range is concerned, that's a very interesting one. Human babies must gradually learn what not to pay attention to in their environment, so as to make communication easier without distraction, and so I think this is a completely solid concept. A human would have a tough time with this initially - it makes me think of H. Beam Piper's Fuzzies, who spoke with supersonic pitch. But given a good receiver, a lot of analytical work, and an appropriate sound generator, they might do a good job of speaking the range-language. Among range-language speakers, I think it would be a question of special individuals being able to grasp human language sound concepts. I've met many people who aren't able to hear sound distinctions that differ from their own native language - but on the opposite side, there are always exceptional individuals who are able to hear more subtle sound distinctions.


Greg Ellis peppered me with examples - what an exciting range of species! Look for them in his FOTS universe. The first place I'd start, given a large number of groups like this, would be sound design based on physiology, and believe it or not, the minute you name a group, you've already started language design. I'm going to comment a little on each group he gave me (except two he called the Swarm and the Machines), and I hope this will give a sense of how I get started when thinking through alien languages.

Saurians, Dwa'Kim
It might be good to ask whether dinosaur-like aliens have flexible lips, for example, because inflexible lips might restrict their ability to create consonants like p/b/w/m, or vowels like o/u. It looks already as though the Dwa'Kim have such flexibility - that could be used as a distinction between the two languages.

Jareen'qwar
My question about caterpillar aliens is whether they have a hard palate, and whether they have a nose. Both are useful to have, the palate being good for consonants like j (assuming it's pronounced "dzh") and the nose for sounds like n. The species might well have a different way of re-routing the air stream to produce a different resonance, the way we do with our noses. The name of the species as given here would actually be possible to pronounce without a palate if the j were pronounced like a y, and the q low down in the throat. But generally speaking the transcription of sounds would have to be considered approximate.

Rrowlk'aa
A doglike group. I've got the vibe. It looks like these guys are going to have some really cool growl-like consonants, or multiple qualities of "r." Does the apostrophe mean a glottal stop, a plosive consonant, or some kind of dropped sound? These are possibilities that might help the language expand.

Kahs
A more humanoid group, and their name is short, so lots of directions to go with this. I'd be looking to culture and social situations of language use to find out more about how the language is used.

Kon'ta Py'ron, Q'Tez, Grymphon
I'm grouping these together because they are relatively insectoid, with hard body parts, which suggests to me that they'll have a lot of means for clicking, creating hums and vibrations, and potentially whistling, all of which are difficult to use English letters for. But for clicks you can always turn to k/p/t/! , and for hums or whizzes you can go for s/z/f (or ph!) Whistles might give you vowels. I wonder a little about "n" and "g" for these groups, but this is all about getting creative - these might indicate sounds created by a combination of hum and click. Think through the type of mandible structure they might have, and whether they would have rubbing surfaces on their legs or other types of sound-producers they could use for language.

And that's it for my thoughts! Thanks for sending me the questions, guys - and I hope these examples have been thought-provoking for other people facing similar challenges.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Don't forget the importance of body language

After yesterday's post I've been presented with a number of interesting language systems to chew on - but it's going to take me more than a single day to come back with ideas! One of the things that came up peripherally, though, is the question of body language. So I thought I'd muse a bit on it this evening.

I won't discuss sign languages here, except to say that they are fully elaborated language systems with their own complex layers of grammar, all executed in the visual medium using signs in combination with posture and facial expression.

Body language is something every writer should take time to observe, because it's useful in every genre. It's great for the purposes of "show not tell" to express characters' emotional states. Closed body position is a classic indicator of discomfort, and can include crossed legs, crossed arms, tucked chin, hiding of hands, and lack of eye contact. Open body position, the opposite, indicates comfort, and if taken to the extreme, can indicate attraction. Personal distance is also a really great thing to observe and to use in stories, and can be used along with general body position.

If you really want to take the idea of investigating body language seriously, try carrying a notebook to a place where lots of human interaction is taking place, and making note of the different types of body stances, hand gestures, head angles, gaze gestures, and facial expressions that you see.

Basic facial expressions are common across cultures - things like fear, anger, happiness, etc. But gestural signals and personal boundaries vary.

Here are some real-world examples from my experience. Americans tend to stand at hand-shake distance, while Japanese people stand further away, at bowing distance. I have watched people conk heads (ouch!) when the standards cross. Americans will point to their hearts when saying "I," while Japanese people will point to their noses. The Japanese gesture for "come here" is executed with the wrist above and the fingers below, with the back of the hand facing the person being called - almost exactly like the American gesture for "move a little further off." My husband nearly got lost in Tokyo because of this distinction. I have seen many Europeans point using their middle fingers, where Americans point with their index fingers. The Japanese generally with their entire hands, and consider the single-finger point to be rude - though it doesn't have a meaning anything like the middle finger in America!

Oh, what lovely potential for misunderstanding there is in gestural communication! Gestures tend to be iconic, which is to say that their meanings seem obvious to those using them. However, as I've noted above, not everyone agrees on the same obvious meaning.

Alternate physiology (aliens!) only adds to the possibilities. Consider the vast difference between human and canine gestural language. A human might point to his mouth or stomach to indicate hunger, while a puppy has the instinct to lick its parent's chin. I've found that learning a bit about dogs' gestural communication has further widened the parameters I feel I can play with in gesture, including head position, body posture, tongue gestures, bites, etc.

If you want to think about how to make an alien look inquisitive, think about what kind of sensory organs it might be using to investigate things, and work from there. Cocking the head to get the eyes closer to the person they're talking to might work. Or swiveling their ears forward. Or raising their antennae higher. Try to think about it from the point of view of their communication needs (and if you're feeling ambitious, the social significance of gestural communication), and the possibilities will start to open up.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Want to design a language?

I'm back after a great trip. Great adventures seeing sea lions and seals and kelp (in nature and in the aquarium) and playing with my parents and my kids and my brother's family too. Then I came home to the news of one rejection and one honorable mention from Writers of the Future - so quite a mixed surprise!

While I was away, I had this list floating through my head of the things I think about when I want to create a language. I always like to find reasons for the structures and words I create - because even though language is arbitrary in theory, in practice most of the things we say interconnect and make sense. Plus it's really hard to make up random strings of sounds off the top of my head. So here are some things to think about:

1. Language evolution. I've heard a number of people, particularly at the Analog forum, talking about the way they've thought through the physiological evolution of their aliens. So why not think about how their language evolved? What was it first used for? Distress calls across long distances? Cooperative activities of some kind? A language used for hunting might come out differently from one used while building tree homes, or one used to find other members of a family in a dark den.

2. Mouth shapes (sounds). The most obvious - but not the only! - application here is to aliens in science fiction. The sounds of the language have to be produced somehow, so if your alien has a lot of teeth, or a very long neck, that might influence the type of sounds in the language. Mouth shapes are also relevant to fantasy human languages, and to real-world languages. The sounds of English just don't require us to move our lips as much as French speakers do, but more than the sounds of Japanese do. Those general mouth patterns contribute to the feel of languages in real life, so why not in our stories?

3. Word structure (morphology). This means breaking down words into their component parts, such as re+cite, walk+ing, dog+s etc. And actually, it's one of the things most likely to be noticeable about your language in a story. Why? Because the language elements that tend to be included in a story are words for things, for languages and peoples, and possibly for activities. I've seen a lot of stories where the sound "i" is stuck on the end to make a plural. But why not use something else? Or, as the Japanese do, just (mostly) forget about plural nouns? The word for a town might have a prefix or suffix meaning "place." There are lots of options, and they can really add a sense of depth to your world. If you look at Tolkien's writings, you'll notice that all the elf names can in fact be broken into parts, and translated into literal meanings. I always thought that was amazing!

4. Sentence structure and above... Unless you're writing full sentences in your created language, you usually don't need to work out how sentence structure works. This is where it's good to turn around and consider how you want to capture the feel of your language in English. If you're not working with real world languages, then choosing an existing language dialect becomes problematic, because very often it will be recognizable. The last thing I want is for someone to ask, "I wonder why Wade's aliens are speaking Cockney?" So I go for alterations in rhythm and feel. English tends to have a natural speaking pattern of alternating high and low stress,

"x X x X x X x X" (iambic)

so you can reverse that, or alter it in funny places. In addition, you can have someone speak repetitively, or in very short sentences, or very long drawn-out ones.

5. Cultural concepts. Your people's belief system, and what kind of things are important or repugnant to them, can have a huge influence on language. This includes political ideology or religion. The Gariniki in "Let the Word Take Me" had an extreme version of this, where their view of the sacredness of their own language shrunk their public usage down to phrases without any sustained rhythm. The flip side of this was that when they spoke fluently, I tried to have them speak in a way that emulated the tone and language of sacred stories in English. I can hardly think of a world in which nobody ever swears (though maybe I should make one, hmm...), and the content of swearing has a lot to do with belief systems.

6. Language learning. Children in a society have to learn their own language, and they don't always need to learn it the same way. The Gariniki children learned to speak in the holy place by listening to stories and discussing them. In our society children generally learn to speak from their mother or primary caretaker. In some societies, children learn more language from their own siblings than from their parents. And generally, television- or computer-generated language is not responsive enough to play a significant role in child language learning.

Foreign language learning also comes to mind, but I need to end this post so I'll leave it for another time. I will say though that it differs in some key ways from child language learning.

I'd love to go into more depth on any of these points, so if you're curious about them just ask. Or it might be fun to do an example language. I'll think about it for upcoming posts.