Language and Fantasy, Part One: The "Common Tongue" Fallacy
Not too long ago, a writer friend of mine asked me to write up some of my rants (previously witnessed only by her) about language in fantasy. (This would have been the material for the aforementioned symposium, which I did not end up doing.) I love both fantasy and language, but the intersection of the two often sacrifices language for the sake of narrative. I'm not a linguist, in the strict sense of the word, but I love learning languages, and learning about languages, and applying it to writing. This is the first of my "language rants". They are intended to benefit the fantasy (or scifi) author with little experience in linguistics or languages. I don't pretend to be an expert; if you have other points, make them in the comments! Or questions, or arguments, or whathaveyou.
The Common Tongue Fallacy
Languages are, in my mind, an essential component of worldbuilding. You'd think language would be harder to ignore, since it's writers we're talking about, but it's often neglected. Integrating nuances of language doesn't have to be a burden or a barrier; in many cases it can be a useful tool of narrative.
Language diffusion
Languages can often be viewed from a biological perspective. They are organic and fluid, adapting to every group of speakers they encounter. Languages change and diffuse much like species evolve. Geographic barriers and distances are strong catalysts for linguistic change. For example, Latin, once the language of the Roman Empire, splintered into French, Spanish, Italian, and Romanian. The modern language share a great deal through their roots, vocabulary, and grammar, but they are no longer mutually intelligible (able to be understood by both speakers). Similarly, the Spanish of Spain and of Mexico are distinct, though these are still considered separate languages. Time plays a role on this; the longer the speakers have been separated, the more different their speech will become. If there is frequent speech interactions between the communities, the change will become slower; if they are sharply separated, it will change more quickly.
So, in a fantasy world, if you have two countries/groups of people who are starkly separated-let's say by a huge impassable mountain range-and have been for a while, characters from these respective groups are going to have a pretty hard time understanding each other. If you've got two countries separated by a line in the sand, so to speak, who regularly trade and interact with each other, they're probably likely to understand each other pretty well-they might speak slightly different versions of the same language (for example, Canadian and American English) or closely related mutually intelligible languages (for example, Norwegian and Swedish) or most speakers might speak the language of both countries. (Discussion of bi/multilingualism in a future post.) If you have interaction between multiple groups, you probably also have crossover; a reasonably large community will usually have more than one language in it; the larger you get (say, a big city or a country) the more linguistic diversity you'll get, unless your city/country lives behind an iron curtain and language is strictly regulated, in which case you'll have less, but not none. (That would be an interesting story setting...)
Your countries' (or groups of speakers') history will matter, too. For example, English is the way it is-basically a hodgepodge of other languages, but mostly Germanic with lots of Latin influence-through its history. You start with your Anglo-Saxons, get some Norse influence after Viking invasions, plenty of French influence with the Norman conquest, and then colonize a bunch of other countries, and voila! English. Colonialism is also why you hear English in India, French in Algeria, and Portuguese in Brazil. Conquest is a vehicle for linguistic diffusion.
Language also divides socially. Different social classes will speak differently, even when they're speaking the same language-which they're not necessarily doing. Some fantasy novels use this concept for their "thieves' cant" and such, a language only understood by the gutter of society. That's basically the idea-although if your culture has something like this, please call it something not so cliché. A street rat raised in the slums will speak far differently than a nobleman raised in the King's Court. The differences are one of dialect, which has three aspects: accent (pronunciation), vocabulary, and syntax (or how words are arranged in sentences and such.) Dialect can be difficult to adapt to the written word; I'll discuss some methods in a future post.
All of this is basically a buildup to say-so-called "Common Tongue" doesn't exist. At least, not as some fantasy writers use it-the magical language that everyone knows, regardless of geographic location, social class, or reasonable expectation of exposure to such a language. It exists because these writers don't like tackling language barriers, but it's lazy. I don't like hand-waving (or "it's magic!" when magic has no bearing whatsoever on the mechanics of language.) A lingua franca is one thing-that's a language that most people know, at least functionally, to get by. It's the pretense that no other languages exist, and/or they have no relation to any other languages, that bugs me. In my current project, the story takes place mostly within a city-state that's fairly geographically isolated. The main character encounters his own native language, the dominant/official language of the city, two other flourishing languages belonging to other ethnic groups within it or nearby, and the dying language of another ethnic group. And that's in a single city with a limited cast of characters. I'm not saying you need to do this. But it's a wonderful way of adding richness and diversity to your settings. (And it can be useful for plot devices, characterization, all sorts of fun stuff.)
As for "common tongue"-it's cliché enough that I recoil when I see the words used seriously. Languages typically have names-many names, sometimes. And while sometimes a language will call itself "common tongue" or something, it's not its only name. For example: Mandarin Chinese (which is, in fact, an extremely common language) is known as putonghua, or "common speech". But it's also known as hanyu (Han language), zhongwen (Midddle [Kingdom] language) and guoyu (national language, used mostly in Taiwan.) Tolkien's "common tongue" was known as Westron (in English) or Adûni in its own language (from the Adûnaic language.) So whatever you do, if you have a lingua franca, please don't call it Common Tongue. Please.
One further note about linguistic prestige versus linguistic superiority:
In modern linguistics, most linguists adhere to the idea that no particular language or use of language is inherently superior to another (this is descriptive linguistics as compared to prescriptive linguistics.) Even language use that is "incorrect" is not superior, it's just nonstandard. This isn't, however, a universal idea. As a descriptivist myself, some of Tolkien's language work bugs the hell out of me for his insistence that, say, Orcish was inherently inferior to other languages, and that any kind of Elvish was superior. I recommend not taking this route as a linguist or a linguistic writer. Language is language. However, within society, there is such a thing as linguistic prestige; for example, in the US, "standard" American English is typically considered more prestigious than "Southern" American English, though from a linguistic perspective they are both neutral. The difference is in whether the writer perceives a superiority/inferiority or whether the fantasy society does.
Next up- Part Two: Functions of Language.
ETA: Why is it every time I post I have to edit like five frillion times? One day I'll get my post right the first time.
This entry was originally posted at http://carrie-ironhorse.dreamwidth.org/3489.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
The Common Tongue Fallacy
Languages are, in my mind, an essential component of worldbuilding. You'd think language would be harder to ignore, since it's writers we're talking about, but it's often neglected. Integrating nuances of language doesn't have to be a burden or a barrier; in many cases it can be a useful tool of narrative.
Language diffusion
Languages can often be viewed from a biological perspective. They are organic and fluid, adapting to every group of speakers they encounter. Languages change and diffuse much like species evolve. Geographic barriers and distances are strong catalysts for linguistic change. For example, Latin, once the language of the Roman Empire, splintered into French, Spanish, Italian, and Romanian. The modern language share a great deal through their roots, vocabulary, and grammar, but they are no longer mutually intelligible (able to be understood by both speakers). Similarly, the Spanish of Spain and of Mexico are distinct, though these are still considered separate languages. Time plays a role on this; the longer the speakers have been separated, the more different their speech will become. If there is frequent speech interactions between the communities, the change will become slower; if they are sharply separated, it will change more quickly.
So, in a fantasy world, if you have two countries/groups of people who are starkly separated-let's say by a huge impassable mountain range-and have been for a while, characters from these respective groups are going to have a pretty hard time understanding each other. If you've got two countries separated by a line in the sand, so to speak, who regularly trade and interact with each other, they're probably likely to understand each other pretty well-they might speak slightly different versions of the same language (for example, Canadian and American English) or closely related mutually intelligible languages (for example, Norwegian and Swedish) or most speakers might speak the language of both countries. (Discussion of bi/multilingualism in a future post.) If you have interaction between multiple groups, you probably also have crossover; a reasonably large community will usually have more than one language in it; the larger you get (say, a big city or a country) the more linguistic diversity you'll get, unless your city/country lives behind an iron curtain and language is strictly regulated, in which case you'll have less, but not none. (That would be an interesting story setting...)
Your countries' (or groups of speakers') history will matter, too. For example, English is the way it is-basically a hodgepodge of other languages, but mostly Germanic with lots of Latin influence-through its history. You start with your Anglo-Saxons, get some Norse influence after Viking invasions, plenty of French influence with the Norman conquest, and then colonize a bunch of other countries, and voila! English. Colonialism is also why you hear English in India, French in Algeria, and Portuguese in Brazil. Conquest is a vehicle for linguistic diffusion.
Language also divides socially. Different social classes will speak differently, even when they're speaking the same language-which they're not necessarily doing. Some fantasy novels use this concept for their "thieves' cant" and such, a language only understood by the gutter of society. That's basically the idea-although if your culture has something like this, please call it something not so cliché. A street rat raised in the slums will speak far differently than a nobleman raised in the King's Court. The differences are one of dialect, which has three aspects: accent (pronunciation), vocabulary, and syntax (or how words are arranged in sentences and such.) Dialect can be difficult to adapt to the written word; I'll discuss some methods in a future post.
All of this is basically a buildup to say-so-called "Common Tongue" doesn't exist. At least, not as some fantasy writers use it-the magical language that everyone knows, regardless of geographic location, social class, or reasonable expectation of exposure to such a language. It exists because these writers don't like tackling language barriers, but it's lazy. I don't like hand-waving (or "it's magic!" when magic has no bearing whatsoever on the mechanics of language.) A lingua franca is one thing-that's a language that most people know, at least functionally, to get by. It's the pretense that no other languages exist, and/or they have no relation to any other languages, that bugs me. In my current project, the story takes place mostly within a city-state that's fairly geographically isolated. The main character encounters his own native language, the dominant/official language of the city, two other flourishing languages belonging to other ethnic groups within it or nearby, and the dying language of another ethnic group. And that's in a single city with a limited cast of characters. I'm not saying you need to do this. But it's a wonderful way of adding richness and diversity to your settings. (And it can be useful for plot devices, characterization, all sorts of fun stuff.)
As for "common tongue"-it's cliché enough that I recoil when I see the words used seriously. Languages typically have names-many names, sometimes. And while sometimes a language will call itself "common tongue" or something, it's not its only name. For example: Mandarin Chinese (which is, in fact, an extremely common language) is known as putonghua, or "common speech". But it's also known as hanyu (Han language), zhongwen (Midddle [Kingdom] language) and guoyu (national language, used mostly in Taiwan.) Tolkien's "common tongue" was known as Westron (in English) or Adûni in its own language (from the Adûnaic language.) So whatever you do, if you have a lingua franca, please don't call it Common Tongue. Please.
One further note about linguistic prestige versus linguistic superiority:
In modern linguistics, most linguists adhere to the idea that no particular language or use of language is inherently superior to another (this is descriptive linguistics as compared to prescriptive linguistics.) Even language use that is "incorrect" is not superior, it's just nonstandard. This isn't, however, a universal idea. As a descriptivist myself, some of Tolkien's language work bugs the hell out of me for his insistence that, say, Orcish was inherently inferior to other languages, and that any kind of Elvish was superior. I recommend not taking this route as a linguist or a linguistic writer. Language is language. However, within society, there is such a thing as linguistic prestige; for example, in the US, "standard" American English is typically considered more prestigious than "Southern" American English, though from a linguistic perspective they are both neutral. The difference is in whether the writer perceives a superiority/inferiority or whether the fantasy society does.
Next up- Part Two: Functions of Language.
ETA: Why is it every time I post I have to edit like five frillion times? One day I'll get my post right the first time.
This entry was originally posted at http://carrie-ironhorse.dreamwidth.org/3489.html. Please comment there using OpenID.