Nerdvana & Communicating Love
For the last few days, I've nearly danced with joy whenever it was time to sit down with my Irish "homework." (That is in quotes since it's all homework.) I'm enjoying working on it immensely, though I'm not as fond of going through the flash cards. I also realized that there are Appendices at the end, but there's no indication of how to use them. :-< I've looked through them a bit and have decided to wait until I'm further along before I give them another go.
I've come to the conclusion that the beauty in any language lies with the speaker. For example, I had never been a big fan of French. It always sounded a bit bored, nasally, and pretentious; it certainly never sounded like the "language of love." But I was just listening to a live performance by this band, Archael. The song is "Belle Ismène," and like their other songs, it's quite heavy on the vocals. Though he has a nice voice, I'd say their singer's talent is only "above average." Still, the way he sings... it makes me want to learn French. The way he sings is as if he's cradling the object of his love in his hands. It's so tender, yet insistently there. All that is French, all that is native and natural and unique to the language is there, yet it is as gentle as coaxing a bird from a tree. His love of his language is there, and the love is infectious through its presence and its art.
I love Irish, but I love it more or less depending on who is speaking it. I think thoughtlessness and ambivalence is conveyed to non-speakers. I'm not saying that the speaker doesn't love the language, but they are thoughtless or ambivalent to how they use it. So they end up speaking like I dance, that is to say, with all the grace of a bear with its foot stuck in a bucket.
I once wrote a poem in German and read it for my writing workshop. One of the girls in the group told me afterward that I'd made German sound beautiful. That compliment meant a lot to me, and I never forgot it. German is a strong, masculine language. It's stocky, square-jawed, and not classically handsome to outsiders. But I've heard it spoken and sung in such a way that I didn't even realize what I was listening to at first. That stocky, square-jawed lug with the blunt fingers and serious face was gentle and coaxing; he smiled and played in his words. I suddenly heard it as an insider would hear it, a native speaker, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world. It became important to me to consider how I spoke new languages, to not just thunder through them, but to care for them and love them as they deserved.
I've come to the conclusion that the beauty in any language lies with the speaker. For example, I had never been a big fan of French. It always sounded a bit bored, nasally, and pretentious; it certainly never sounded like the "language of love." But I was just listening to a live performance by this band, Archael. The song is "Belle Ismène," and like their other songs, it's quite heavy on the vocals. Though he has a nice voice, I'd say their singer's talent is only "above average." Still, the way he sings... it makes me want to learn French. The way he sings is as if he's cradling the object of his love in his hands. It's so tender, yet insistently there. All that is French, all that is native and natural and unique to the language is there, yet it is as gentle as coaxing a bird from a tree. His love of his language is there, and the love is infectious through its presence and its art.
I love Irish, but I love it more or less depending on who is speaking it. I think thoughtlessness and ambivalence is conveyed to non-speakers. I'm not saying that the speaker doesn't love the language, but they are thoughtless or ambivalent to how they use it. So they end up speaking like I dance, that is to say, with all the grace of a bear with its foot stuck in a bucket.
I once wrote a poem in German and read it for my writing workshop. One of the girls in the group told me afterward that I'd made German sound beautiful. That compliment meant a lot to me, and I never forgot it. German is a strong, masculine language. It's stocky, square-jawed, and not classically handsome to outsiders. But I've heard it spoken and sung in such a way that I didn't even realize what I was listening to at first. That stocky, square-jawed lug with the blunt fingers and serious face was gentle and coaxing; he smiled and played in his words. I suddenly heard it as an insider would hear it, a native speaker, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world. It became important to me to consider how I spoke new languages, to not just thunder through them, but to care for them and love them as they deserved.