elhawiyeh

[elhawiyeh]

Another linguistics rabbit hole

I stumbled across a piece of old Georgian music that started me down a rabbit hole in the intersection of linguistics and world music.

You may have noticed is the apostrophes in the name- they're used to denote what are known as ejective consonants. These sounds aren't really featured in Indo-European languages, but we do routinely make them. Think back to when you were learning to read and a teacher pointed to the letter T and asked, "What sound does this make?" The responding chorus of T sounds is often made not with a stream of air from the lungs but with the movement of the glottis in the back of our throats. Languages in the Caucasus frequently distinguish between a T made with air from the lungs and a T made with air from the glottis. Because the latter disrupts that flow of air there is often an audible switch for speakers of languages with these consonants between two sources of airflow. The same is true for other non-pulmonic consonants like clicks, and it is often a feat for learners to make these sounds flow together in the course of pronouncing a word.

So how is this handled in singing? I was kind of shocked to see how the ejectives employed in this Georgian hymn are hardly noticeable. My experience with ejectives in music before this was with Native American music where sometimes the singer leans a little more into the percussive quality of these sounds. And if you really want to get into showy non-pulmonics then Miriam Makeba's rendition of the traditional Xhosa song Qongqothwane celebrates them with flair.

So why aren't those sounds more pronounced in this Georgian music? I can only grasp at straws but one thing that occurred to me is that Georgian has some of the most difficult consonant clusters of any language I'm aware of, so maybe it's common practice to elide those sounds to facilitate fluent enunciation. Perhaps modern use of Georgian differs from older versions- the Mkhedruli script in use today is over a thousand years old and the song was composed in the 12th century, but in my experience these kind of traditions are very resistant to change. Maybe music like this was born in the context of a culture that was not native to Georgia- the New Testament had to be translated into Georgian from Greek, and the introduction of Christianity to Georgia is credited to a saint of Greek extraction. If folk melodies found their way into a liturgical context, perhaps it makes sense that composers who drew upon that were not as eager to accentuate these features of the language.

Adjusting features of spoken language to fit a style of singing is very common. When I was trained in Classical European vocal styles I was instructed to avoid smiling while singing, so unrounded vowels became rounded. In particular, the strong 'ee' sound (IPA /i:/) was scrupulously avoided and recast as almost a Japanese 'u' sound (IPA /ʉ:/). Also the English language's retroflex 'r' was often avoided, especially at the end of a syllable and rhotacized vowels were considered ugly. These changes have a lot to do with the fact that this style of music was inextricably linked to Latin mass, but I was always shocked in this context to hear singing in contemporary music that actually celebrated these sounds.

I had one experience learning and performing a piece by a Korean composer. I sought out pronunciation help from a Korean-American woman and she pointed out to me that the diphthong 'ui' (IPA /ɰi/) is typically pronounced in song as an 'eh' sound (IPA ~/e/). I don't know if this holds true for more traditional forms of Korean music but this was in the context of Korean Christian devotional music, so I would hypothesize that it underwent many of the same changes English did in that context.

In J-Pop I've noticed that singers often like to take the traditional flipped R (IPA /ɾ/) and pronounce it in a way that sounds suspiciously like an L. They also like to pronounce mid to backish open vowel so it sounds more forward in the mouth and with a bit of a smile, so /a/ as in father comes out sounding a bit more like /æ/ as in the word hat. It's a really neat stylistic change that to me evokes a lot of the same rebellion that American rock does in the context of classical liturgical song. I'm surprised this kind of vowel shift works in the context of a language that is so incredibly vowel heavy.

One source of music that interested me was the Indian subcontinent, where retroflex sounds like the English 'r' are heavily featured, to the point where they are contrasted with alveolar or dental consonants with the same manner of articulation. Imagine saying a T sound, but with your tongue bent back as if you are pronouncing the letter R. There is a natural tendency to rhotacize the vowels that come before these consonants, and classically trained vocalists in languages like Hindi, Urdu, or Punjabi don't try to fight this. And contemporary artists do this too, sometimes to the point where they introduce another syllable just to dwell on that sound where in conversation it might be smoothly blended with the beginning of the next syllable.

That is my daily dose of useless information mixed with anecdotes and inferences from shaky assumptions and half-assed research.

[elhawiyeh]

8

Anger.

I'm exhausted by anger as I grow older. My entire body is taxed by it. Justice and punishment are words that seem self-serving and hollow. I'm trying to approach the idea that feeling it is not inherently wrong. The point I want to reach is the acceptance that I have a right to be angry, that it provides me essential information, and that it is my responsibility to act on it constructively.

But I have a long way to go, and key to this process is developing a sense of self where my own needs are prioritized instead of vicariously living through others by meeting their needs instead of my own. Wanting things for myself outside basic needs is very difficult, so I'm working on setting realistic, attainable goals that don't involve satisfying or helping others.

I want to... get some ice cream.

Baby steps.

[elhawiyeh]

7

My dynamics with my family are exceedingly complicated right now.

I've processed a lot of anger, but I'm going through the grief phase. My parents can see that I'm going through something when we talk over the phone and want to be there for me. But they don't really have the tools to do that. Especially talking to my father, while I've accepted he won't take responsibility for antagonistic behavior in the past, I do have to stand my ground and calmly assert the truth of what happened. I think it's hard for him to understand that I'm not interested in placing blame or inducing guilt. I have simply decided that I'm not obligated to validate his fiction.

But I do take pity on him, because I can walk in his shoes and see that he's confused about the boundaries that I'm setting. It's not for lack of explanation, it's that he has no tools with which to critique himself in a healthy way, so he simply can't accept what I have to say. He's a long way from understanding that he's responsible for his own actions and emotions, or that it's okay to make mistakes. He's spent his whole life protecting himself from truths that would have set him free and the process of grieving for a wasted life would take longer than he has left on this earth.

There's a part of me that pushes back and says, "This is gratuitous pain. It serves no one." But the pain is not the point, and I am not responsible for guilt that someone else's transgressions cause them.

[elhawiyeh]

6

If I were to be valued, what would I like to be valued for?

If I value what I can do for others I worry that my self-worth will become entwined with their approval.

If I value my own ability, will I discount those who lack that ability?

If I value integrity, would that confine me to static set of values? Or doom me to joust with windmills?

I think that other people are frequently able to value themselves for these things in healthy ways, but I have struggled with them in the past. These days I shy away from ascribing worth or value to anyone because it feels demeaning to attach some kind of emotional price tag. But one thing that has become clear is that it's not enough to be neutral to yourself. We need unqualified positive judgments.

I want to be the person who tries to see the whole picture and makes nuanced decisions aimed at doing the maximum amount of good. I don't want to be confined by the perspective that a single set of values has to offer. I want to offer understanding and safety. I want to be decisive and solution-oriented. I want to manage my emotions effectively. I want to help the suffering. I want to help people think outside the box. I want to be relatable.

But I don't allow myself to make these judgments, so as much as I want these things I will never feel as if what I have done is enough. And looking back on all these things, they are all about what I can do for other people, and not what they can do for me. I am fending off rejection and disappointment by going through motions with intention but not investment.

[elhawiyeh]

5

Love. So fundamental and yet so venomous. People hold each other tight and swell with affection. Often the same people who try to possess and control and do violence to the objects of their attachment in the name of that very same love.

I suppose my view is a bit dark as I've known a lot of disappointment and unrequited feelings. In early life, familial love crumbled into guilt and shame and manipulation and betrayal. For a long time there was no place for my romantic or erotic self to develop, so whenever I date and have sex it's a chore, and my partners either comment that I'm unemotional or they read into my blank façade and non-committal responses whatever they want to see. It's just much easier to satisfy those needs alone- it's amazing I manage to have sex at all without letting myself be vulnerable. I have had romantic feelings for a couple people, but in one case it was absolutely not reciprocated so I never pushed the issue, and in the other I'd have to sacrifice everything I've built for an uncertain and potentially problematic future.

I've found a great deal of love in other places in my life but there's definitely a sense of loss for what could have been. I don't feel lonely like I once did but I still harbor a deep desire to be seen and understood. I haven't really dared to dream of being valued.

[elhawiyeh]

4

I have trouble with the idea of virtue. The concept contains a value judgment that I don't really condone or grasp. I strive to be prosocial and I often use nebulous and debatable concepts like mental health in conversation because while these terms lack specificity they offer a great deal of relatable neutral ground and are less likely to convey distressing moral imperatives in dialogue. It allows me to speak and think in terms of being effective rather than serving the fleeting whims of justice. And in my thoughts I cannot escape the contradiction that virtue is understood by many to be static, universal, and self-evident, yet its perceived specifics vary wildly.

There is however an assumption contained in my choice of concepts that humans are more in harmony with their nature when they are in harmony with others. And a value judgment is indeed placed on harmony and it deserves to be scrutinized.

[elhawiyeh]

3

I have struggled a fair amount with a lack of self or agency, and felt comfortable dealing with abuse that was out of my control. Where a lot of people like to emphasize concepts like free will, to this day I don't put much stock in that. It seems entirely more plausible to me that we're just a complex web of cause and effect and what we perceive as random is explained by an array of factors so arcane and complex that we can't process it. When I'm overwhelmed, it just feels like the whole world is engaged in some kind of delirious dance, atoms bouncing through space, matter being yanked through time at breakneck speed, consciousness ever-shifting, holding shape just long enough that for an instant I see a face in the mirror.

Many philosophies talk about abolishing the self, piercing illusion, finding truth, and I used to be obsessed with that. I pursued self-destruction in the hope that the knowledge that pain would bring would make me whole. I abased myself and held myself responsible for the wellbeing of others to the detriment of my own. I tried to counteract this by being kind to myself as a member of humanity, but it's not enough to do to yourself as you would to a stranger. Failing to acknowledge some truth in the illusory separation between your self and the universe puts you in conflict with your most basic instincts, and while you may suppress those feelings there is no resolution, no salvation, no end to the torment. It is gratuitous cruelty by no other hand than your own. The succor of conviction is a potent nepenthe but in turn you may fall victim to doubt, hypocrisy, and bitter judgments that sour the sweetest act of selflessness.

[elhawiyeh]

2

I was once part of a writing community. We were almost all mentally ill in one way or another. A lot of our writing came from a place of pain. I know mine did.

I started by writing nonsense poetry, and people liked it. Then I wrote about a sage who ushered others through transformation. He contained within him a beast who wrestled for control. He was locked in a cosmic battle and did his best to contain dark forces, even when it cost him everything. He was driven by a pure will at first, but each time the universe summoned him from the jaws of entropy, he grew more tired. He gave in little by little to the chaos that threatened to rule him, until he finally passed on his burden before fading into the ether.

Where at first he sought to contain the abyss, his most impassioned choices trapped him in it until finally they became one. There was never truly any choice for him- he was born to manifest its will, if he was ever born at all. Existence spoke through him but instead of imbuing his actions with meaning it stripped him of his agency. And that was the price of his power- he could achieve great things but only as they were destined to be.

[elhawiyeh]

1

I've been cut off from the part of me that used to immerse myself in telling stories. I used to live in a world where the boundaries of fantasy and reality were somewhat blurry. I readily took onboard many mutually contradictory memories and perspectives and opinions and in order to allow them to coexist I left the question of what was real open-ended. In retrospect my complicated relationship with reality made me rather ill, but life was art, even the depression. Especially the depression. But that art was not truly conceived for me- it was not a product of desire but necessity. Since then I've learned to cherish stability and peace and the simplest, most fundamental gifts of life. Now I'd like to reconnect with my creativity and walk again as a man awake in the world of dreams. I hope I can do that without inviting madness.