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imuybemovoko · 3 months

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so I made a language where the consonants have daily pileups and the noun cases hate you

H̵̫̰̤̝̣̥̻͍̘̱̰͎̭̅̏̽̃͐̃̊͂̐̕͜͜͝ẽ̴̖̾r̶̨̯͌ę̷̨̛̛͎͔̰͓̹̠̣̦̝̻̞͔͇̔̈́͒̆̆́̆̽͘͝͠ ̵̛͍̞̲͔̺͓̗̞͉̘̻͆̏̽̄w̷̡̧͚̠̟͉̳͇̼̯͗͂̾̄͝ë̸͍̹̟̬̩̗̹̼̩͇͇͈̇͌̂͆̒̃̕̚͘ ̸̳̫͍̖̙̬̮̫͚̻͙̱̲̍̈́͋͌̑͑g̵̛̪̼̻͔̜̮͑̈̓͐̋̊̏̄̒͊̚ǫ̶̡͕̗͕͕͍̟̯̞͇̂͊̈́̓̀͗̃̎ ̶̢̛̠̦̣̝̩̖͎͈͚͊̒̄̌̒̃̀͊͂̍͊̽̈́ͅą̸̛̣̳̫̣̱̫̘̔̏̈̒͠͠͠g̸̢̡̖̟̝̠̲̤̙̣̳̣͓̰̃̒a̶̛̛̬͛͆͒̀̃̾̇̐̈́͒͌̋i̵̝͚̩͍̤͚͐̍́͐̀̆͑̔͌̽͗̚͠͠͝ň̶̢̡̛͙͎̿͒̍̔̐̕͠͝!̷̙͓͓̭͖̝̔̍̀̍̍̑̿̍̈́̏͌̓́

Want your brain cells boiled? you've come to the right spot, because same apparently.

This post is about my latest linguistic creation, Câynqasang [ˈt͡sɐːjɴasaŋ]. It's an isolate, set in a fictional distant future near the outer edge of the Milky Way. This one comes with an in-universe linguistic fringe theory linking it to Scots of all things and trying (very falsely) to frame Old English as Proto-Milky-Way. That theory is bullshit, but the language does in fact happen to have a few dozen loan words from English, which has been kept around for diplomacy across all the millennia somehow.

Yeah. It's weird. Also, as much as I have and will shitpost about it, I'm super proud of this one. It's efficient in ways English isn't, and clunky as fuck in other ways English isn't. It's got all kinds of weird irregularities. There's loads of stuff I have to work around a little bit to translate directly, and a lot of beautiful metaphorical extensions and derivational morphology and so on. I really like this one. Though it can sure be obnoxious to use, as accustomed to not-this as my brain is. One of these days I might fuck around and learn it to fluency. One of these days.

Let's get into this.

PHONOLOGY

Yeah.

So if you're familiar with this kind of stuff, you might've caught that the first phonotactic rule means that any combination of consonants is allowed in the onset of initial syllables. This is not consistent across all speakers, in fact being one of the major sites of dialectical variation in Câynqasang, but it does mean that many speakers have, for just one of the wilder examples, ngsa [ŋsa] as the third-person paucal and second-person singular forms of the causative auxiliary verb. Many speakers shift nasal or liquid initials to syllabic consonants, i.e. in this case, ngsa [ŋ̍ˈsa], but that's a dialect thing and not within the main scope of what I'm covering here (though my recordings will likely have many of these realized as syllabic consonants). Also, this doesn't really happen with /j/, which just becomes the vowel /i/ in those situations.

Aside from that, the only properly wild things are the uvular nasal with this small of a consonant inventory and the absence of labial stops other than as allophones of /v/ before the voiceless alveolar stops and affricates. The rest of what's going on is some stress variations and palatalization, basically.

I'll spare an analysis of Câynqasang's phonological evolution here, but suffice it to say that the syllable structure has become far more complex, and that *q, *h, and the old central vowels give rise to considerable irregularity in some grammatical structures by the modern language, ca. 52: 8639. So expect some surprises. For one example of that happening in a noun, the word so means "hard vacuum". (Culture is spacefaring and has been for actual geological timespans, so it's an old, common term.) Because of various sound changes, this comes from *seqɞ; e was lost because short vowels before a stressed syllable are usually lost, short ɞ became o, q was lost, and so on. But this one gets weird with any suffix. Take for example what happens when the instrumental case is applied. In the protolang it would be *seqɞ *seqɞbuj, but through the same set of sound changes, the instrumental case form in the modern language is semuy [ʃeˈmɔj]. The vowel, and in this case thanks to the palatalization, the consonant as well, mutates. Another result of all this is visible in a derived term, using an affix whose meaning I'll descrive as ḻ̷̍i̴̼͛v̵̭̓ḭ̸͌n̶͙͂g̴̹͂, sehîng [ʃexɪːŋ] "dangerous extradimensional entity". In this case *q surfaces as /x/ because it was between two vowels and *o was lost. Suffice it to say that what I'm going to outline later as the grammar is kind of just the "regular" rules, and some crazy shit goes down in some roots including this one.

ORTHOGRAPHY

Câynqasang has two writing systems in modern use. For the purposes of this post, I'll be focusing primarily on the Latin alphabet system; someday I will make a follow-up post about the other system, which is in declining usage in-universe.

In both cases, most relevant today in the Latin alphabet, Câynqasang shows some considerable historical spelling, mostly resulting from the palatal series and central vowels in the protolanguage, though there are some other quirks that will quickly become visible in examples. I'll list the "regular" rules and then explain exceptions.

Modern Câynqasang uses the circumflex accent to mark long vowels. There aren't really exceptions to that. Anything with a circumflex means the vowel is long.

The regular forms are as follows:

/m n ŋ ɴ t k d s~ʃ x ɣ v t͡s~t͡ʃ l j r i iː e eː o oː a aː/ <m n ng nq t k d s h g v c l y r i î e ê o ô a â>

However, long /iː/ is sometimes also written <û>, and short <u> and <o> appear for short /o/ in fairly similar proportions regardless of stress.

Also, when /v/ surfaces as [p] before alveolar stops, it is often (not always) written <p>.

/ŋ/ sometimes is written as <ny>.

On rare occasions, /m/ is written <b>, but this is falling out of use.

Sometimes ɴ is written <mq>.

Also, in some environments where a historical voiced fricative has been lost neighboring a nasal, the former fricative is still present in writing, i.e. sumga [suˈma] "hormone" .

So that's pretty rad. Now let's get even wackier with it.

GRAMMAR

Main word order is subject verb object, with descriptors typically following what they modify aside from converb clauses, which vary in position. Articles precede the noun. Auxiliary verbs precede the lexical verb and carry TAM and person marking, while main verbs are marked with a participle. Relative clauses are marked using a pronoun.

NOUNS

Câynqasang nouns mark for singular, paucal, and plural number and take seven cases. Here's a table of the regular forms:

The plural dative is either -h or -o depending on the presence of a final consonant in the root, or -ho in some nouns with final nasals or approximants or in some short vowel only roots. The paucal allative and genitive and plural genitive change considerably depending on where the stress falls in the root. If the root is all short vowels they'll take that -CV form because of the final stress, and the final vowel in the root will typically be lost; if there's a final long vowel it's just going to be the consonant.

It's also worth explaining some details about how each of these cases works; there's a bit of weird variance with them in addition to the fact that all of them sometimes appear marking the subject of the sentence.

The nominative is the unmarked case, common in both subject and object. It might make more sense to call it something like nominative/absolutive for that reason; there isn't really an accusative. Examples: i ongdo = the seed; yi ongdoho = these several seeds; nê ongdohê = these (many) seeds

The vocative is typically a way of calling out to something or someone like "O gods" and so on, or indicating that something is addressed to something or someone. In these uses, an article differentiates between such cases, i.e. Rayelto = "Hey, Rayel" vs. i tarto = "Addressed to this summit". The latter use is far more common in situations like correspondence or formal speech. Additionally, it's used as part of a naming convention for spacecraft and similar vehicles, i.e. i Galcît, a name referencing the galcî, a sort of balloonlike plant that hovers in the sky like a hot air balloon in large clusters for most of its life and is native to one of the three life-bearing worlds in the system where the language is spoken, known locally as Ulîtu. Additionally, the vocative case is used in imperatives where no other case marking is present on the subject, i.e. îlto kaylisûl i amdî! = 2S.VOC explain-2S DEF.SPEC 3S "Explain this!" (In the formal register, this same phrase would appear as îlto nîlvîn kaylsetadêv i amdî!; the auxiliary verb is not mandatory here in the informal register.)

The allative is a prepositional case referring to motion towards or into something or, especially if less permanent i.e. not referring to landforms, anatomy, and so on, location at something. Examples: ve tongin dênysumin = DEF.NSPEC transformation-ALL beautiful-ALL "towards a beautiful transformation"; Vo nrêdti ômdrây îdêv i Hîvin-ôyvêltêvusin = INDEF.NSPEC war-ABL NEG.HAB.3S live-PTCP DEF.SPEC city-ALL unbreakable-ALL "No war lives in Ba Sing Se" (lit: "the unbreakable city"; I tried to calque it). The allative case is additionally used as a subject marking for motion away from the "object" of the sentence (it's funky, but that's how it operates syntactically) in motion verbs and for negative volition in stative and action verbs. Examples: îlin nîlvîn cudêv! = 2S.ALL IMP.2S go-PTCP "Go away (from me)!"; mon mtâmtûlvu mka = 1S.ALL cut-PST.1S 1S.DAT "I have accidentally cut myself". (mtâm- "to cut" here is a stative verb, by the way. That's why the second pronoun here takes the dative. The dative is not necessary in the informal register here, and sometimes poetic registers that otherwise lean into formal speech will play fast and loose with this. Also, this kind of thing is the proper way to construct reflexives for stative verbs.)

The genitive is most often used as a possessive, i.e. lâmhu mol = leg 1S.GEN "my leg". However, it's also the main way of constructing reflexives for action and sensory verbs, i.e. sro mândengsa = 3Pa.GEN blame-3Pa "they (several) blame themselves".

The dative case is most often used for indirect objects, i.e. cdânyvu nâ lâh amdûk = give-1S DEF.NSPEC.P bread 3S.DAT "I gave some loaves of bread to them". It is additionally used to mark the subject of sensory verbs when the sensation is "passively" taken in as opposed to if someone is "actively" looking for something, i.e. mka sîtûlvu ven sedon = 1S.DAT see-PST.1S INDEF.SPEC spacesuit "I happened to see a spacesuit".

The ablative case is a prepositional referring to motion out of or away from something, sometimes to a more static presence outside of something. It can also refer to the source of something. Example: mon cumo Anqêsyat = 1S.ALL go-1S Anqêsya-ABL "I am leaving from Anqêsya (a city)". Additionally, the ablative case can mark the subject of a motion verb to show motion towards something, i.e. mti kenymo = 1S.ABL come-1S "I am coming".

The instrumental case indicates benefiting from, using, or accompanying something or someone, i.e. mon cûlvu Ancimoy = 1S.ALL go-PST.1S Anci-INS "I left with Anci". The instrumental also marks the subjects of stative and action verbs to show "positive" volition, i.e. the intent to do something, and sensory verbs to show that the sensation was actively sought, i.e. moy sîtûlvu i sedon = 1S.INS see-PST.1S DEF.SPEC spacesuit "I found the spacesuit", sîm lamnyutûsa mka = 3Pa.INS calm-3Pa 1S.DAT "they (several) took steps to calm me".

So that's noun cases, and a window into something I'll discuss again in more specific detail later that verbs do. Subject marking is wild.

Let's move on to the articles you'll doubtless have noticed by now. They're kinda funky.

So, they agree in number to the noun they're attached to. There's a definite and an indefinite.

And a specific vs. non-specific distinction that applies to both.

From top to bottom, indefinite-specific refers to a defined object or set of objects but it's not clear which one, i.e. ven cnguy = INDEF.SPEC bird "a bird". It's not unlike the English indefinite article. Definite-specific refers to a defined and clearly specified object or set of objects, i.e. i râkum = DEF.SPEC tree "the(/this/that) tree". It carries the senses of the English definite article, but also a couple of other determiners. But unlike English determiners it can't stand alone, so if no noun is specified then a pronoun must be included, i.e. i amdî = DEF.SPEC 3S "this/that". Indefinite-nonspecific refers to an indefinite object without subset or other context, not unlike the English term "any", but again it must refer attach to something in the way an article does, i.e. vo hâptôuy = INDEF.NSPEC person "anyone". Definite-nonspecific refers to any member or members of a defined subset of objects, i.e. ve vênyay = DEF.NSPEC laser.rifle "one of these laser rifles. English doesn't have a single term for this, but "one of these" is a solid direct translation. And in this case, though it's defining a subset of many items, the noun must be singular, unless the article is paucal plural in which case you're referring to more than one of a subset. The noun would then agree to the article.

Also, here's a quick table of all the personal pronouns.

It's rare in the modern language that the allative case pronouns are used in the same capacity as the old accusative case, but some older speakers will do this in relative clauses and converb clauses with objects and so on. This can also be a more common feature in some dialects. Also, Câynqasang lacks gendered pronouns.

ADJECTIVES

Adjectives are relatively simple. They follow what they modify and agree in case and number if it's a noun, i.e. Ôdamoy ôtahiraymoy vuynomraymoy nola = mandate-INS self.destructive-INS cursed-INS 2P.GEN "By way of your accursed mandate"

Alright. Let's see what other madness this language has to offer.

VERBS

First I'll cover what you can do without needing an auxiliary verb. You can do imperfective, past, present, and future without an auxiliary verb, and there is a paradigm for person-marking, agreeing in person and number, singular, paucal, and plural, to the subject.

The imperfective was marked in the protolanguage by reduplication of the first syllable of the verb stem. However, sound changes have in some cases severely obscured that relationship over time, and it's rather common that a random vowel will appear in the reduplication that isn't present in the perfective stem anymore, i.e. mco- to rot > mamco-. Often, not always but often, that same vowel will be retained when the verb takes an ending, i.e. masvâv = rot-2Pa "y'all (several) rot".

Here are the endings for person marking including simple past and future. Bear in mind that I include two of each category, but the endings are the same; this is mostly to remind myself that the imperfective exists and is reduplicative. I make these posts with screenshots of my own kind of messy documentation.

Again, some of them change with the stress patterns. The alternation between m and v in the first-person singular is because it was *b in the protolanguage, and what the modern reflex is changes based on stress patterns in the same way as the vowel does, becoming /m/ in stressed syllables and /v/ elsewhere.

For everything else, you need auxiliary verbs.

I'm going to share the sum total of those in the form of several tables, one set for the formal register and one set for the informal register.

These are the formal register auxiliary verbs. Notice how the other forms have compounded or juxtaposed with the passive and negative auxiliaries. Most of these forms have by now lost other semantic meanings entirely and serve only as these auxiliaries.

Here are the informal register ones:

In these, the ones that were juxtaposed are blended together instead and many of them have eroded away some syllables, so that just about all of the informal register ones are disyllabic at most.

When these are used, the lexical verb is marked with participles. I'll include the table I have in my documentation that has the formal and informal register forms of these side by side:

Notice again that a syllable tends to be eroded in the informal register. This notably does not happen in converbs even in the informal register, even though the participles serve double duty as-is for three of them. Anyway, that's participles.

So, with all of that information, we can finally construct a sentence using other TAM than just simple past, simple present, and imperfective. The imperfective, by the way, still marks on the lexical verb when these are used. Example: ômdîn agaltîl nê cêh = NEG.3S IPFV-eat-PTCP.PST DEF.SPEC.P 3P "They should not have been eating those"

We also have to touch on the four classes of verbs, though. This is what determines how those subject case-marking paradigms I was discussing earlier operate. These classes don't strictly follow what you'd expect, both because Câynqasang just handles some concepts differently and because semantic drift makes them funky sometimes. For one example, tkâranco- "to sabotage" seems like it should be an action verb, but it's a sensory verb, because it meant "to deceive" in the proto language. That's one of the wilder ones.

Stative verbs deal with states of being. Their subjects take the nominative case, the vocative in imperatives where the others aren't present, and for volition marking, the instrumental to mark a willing subject and the allative to mark an unwilling one.

Verbs of motion deal with motion, either physical or in some cases, metaphorical. Their subjects take the ablative for motion towards the object or destination, the allative for motion away from the object or destination, the nominative for unclear direction or motion that doesn't change distance, and the vocative for imperatives that would otherwise be nominative.

Sensory verbs are the only verb class that can't take a nominative subject. They take the dative case for passive perception, the instrumental case for intentional perception (so a slightly different volition paradigm than for statives), the genitive case for reflexives, and (sometimes) the vocative for imperatives. The vocative is in somewhat less common use in the modern time.

The class of action verbs contains all other verbs. They take the allative to mark unwilling subjects, the instrumental to mark willing subjects, the nominative when volition can be assumed from context, the genitive for reflexives, and the vocative in some imperatives.

These categories are something a learner would mostly just have to memorize. Like, there are some vague patterns you can pick up from semantics, but they're very far from consistent and it doesn't work the same way you'd think it would in English.

One last little footnote before we move on to converbs, to negate something other than a verb, simply use the stem form of the negative auxiliary following it.

Alrighty.

CONVERBS

I'm not incredibly familiar with the typical nomenclature for these, so I list their etymologies and meanings to the left of the table here:

Converb clauses most often precede the main verb phrase. If a converb is used, also, a separate participle need not be if the clause involves an auxiliary verb. They are derived from participles.

Example: Ye i côl sanqe kamesîtêl, yâkînghê ola lamnyunqicêh = And DEF.SPEC 3P.GEN PERF.3P happen-CONV.GEN.P soul-P 1P.GEN peaceful-FUT.3P "And having felt all of these things come to pass, our souls will know peace".

So those are pretty rad.

RELATIVE CLAUSES AND INTERROGATIVES

Relative clauses are constructed with the relative pronoun (below) and, where relevant, an interrogative.

Relative clauses can either precede or follow the main clause, but in either case the relative pronoun agrees to the subject of the clause in number. Also, when they involve an interrogative (below), it precedes the relative pronoun.

Example: gôv nâs sâyin nola cîldîsang rircâmtatîl, ang onqûnqinqa ven nymûm sunyul. = where REL dust-ALL 2P.GEN PASS.PERF.2P IPFV-imprison-PTCP.PST 1P.INS build-FUT.1P INDEF.SPEC meeting.place love.GEN "where your ashes have been imprisoned, there we will build a meeting place of love."

Questions are constructed with one of these interrogatives immediately preceding the verb or, if the question is related to the nature of the subject or object, in subject or object position. Examples: galtûlûl kay? = eat-PST.2S which.P "Which ones did you eat?";

IMPERATIVES

Imperatives are constructed somewhat differently in the formal register than in the informal, in at least some cases. The subject of the sentence often takes the vocative case, but where other subject case marking is present, it can be omitted. If the vocative is present, in the informal register the imperative auxiliary verb is not required; in the formal register, the auxiliary verb is always mandatory. Here I give three examples assembled from elsewhere in this post, first one using an allative subject, then the same sentence in the informal and then formal registers:

îlin nîlvîn cudêv! = 2S.ALL IMP.2S go-PTCP "Go away (from me)!"

îlto kaylisûl i amdî! = 2S.VOC explain-2S DEF.SPEC 3S "Explain this!" îlto nîlvîn kaylsetadêv i amdî! = 2S.VOC IMP.2S explain-PTCP DEF.SPEC 3S "Explain this!"

That's just about it for grammar. Now for a brief discussion of derivational strategies.

DERIVATION

Most derivation involves a set of suffixes, most of which a screenshot will sufficiently explain, but I'll go into more detail about a couple of these.

The profession derivational produces a set of nouns which in the formal register double-mark number, i.e. sînqangâtmoy = pilot.INS, sînqangârmang = pilot.INS.P and in the informal register have an entirely separate paradigm derived not from the regular one but from the historical imperative, present in the protolanguage but no longer functional. In the informal register all noun cases will attach to these nouns in the singular form, i.e. sînqangât "pilot" but sînqangârmoy = pilot.INS.P

That -îng(i) suffix often has fairly abstract meanings, though it can very much function as simply making a term for a plant or animal. From the same suffix you get such things as nâlkîngi "rabbit" from nâlk- "to flee" galîng "dissociative state" from gla- "to sleep", kalîng "waterfall" from kali "water", râkmîngi "the mood or atmosphere of a remote, dense forest" from râkum "tree", teyresnîng "a type of extradimensional entity that operates by ensnaring victims' minds and molding them to its will" from teyrsin- "to be uncertain", and so on. It can get fairly wild.

The suffix -uy can also create a term for a plant or animal, as in cnguy "bird" from cong "air", though it typically ends up as a type of person.

So that, in a nutshell, is Câynqasang. I'm still developing it, but nearly all of that work anymore is happening in the lexicon. I'm really proud of this one. As always, I'll wrap this up with a couple of fun translations. And, this time, also a rather long original work in Câynqasang.

TRANSLATIONS

Cave Johnson rant:

Nre dês sanqe cîl ngûyinytinyutêv ûyûngamang nûlul gônîngudêv: cdânyvu hâyrunîhê mûlîhê ye vâyâhê [nre dɛːʃ saˈɴe t͡ʃɪːl ˈŋɪːjiŋtiŋuteːv ˈɪːjiːŋamaŋ ˈnɪːlul ɣɔːniːŋudeːv ˈt͡sdɐːŋvu ˈxɐːjruniːxeː ˈmɪːliːheː je vɐːjaːxeː]

2P.VOC REL.P 3S.PERF PASS.3P inject-CONV.PURP DNA-INS.P mantis-GEN.P volunteer-PTCP.PST | give-1S message-P good-P and bad-P

"To you all who have volunteered to be injected with the DNA of mantises: I give good and bad messages." I vâyâ: ang cingvûnenqa sînin ôykîvringtatîlin nê ûngsânê [i ˈvɐːjaː ɐŋ t͡ʃiŋˈvɪːneɴa ˈʃɪːnin ˈɔːjkiːvriŋtatiːlin neː ˈɪːŋsaːneː]

DEF.SPEC bad | 1P.INS delay-1P day-ALL unknown-ALL DEF.SPEC experiment-P

"The bad: We delay those experiments until an unknown date." I mûlî: nyuenqa ven ûngsâny mûlu mûlu; hînûnqinsa ven lvêng nûl-hâptôuymang [i ˈmɪːliː ŋueˈɴa vɛn ˈɪːŋsaːŋ ˈmɪːlu ˈmɪːlu | ˈxɪːniːɴinsa vɛn lvɛːŋ nɪːl ˈxɐːptoːujmaŋ]

DEF.SPEC good | have-1P INDEF.SPEC test better REDUP | fight-2P.FUT INDEF.SPEC army mantis-mantis-P

"The good: We have a much better test; you will fight an army of mantis people." Ngasvîn ûmqemdêv ven înîv ye mîdêv i tânyôy sîm. [ŋasˈvɪːn ˈɪːɴemdeːv vɛn ɪːniːv je ˈmɪːdeːv i ˈtɐːŋoːj ʃɪːm]

IMP.2P carry-PTCP INDEF.SPEC rifle and follow-PTCP DEF.SPEC line yellow

"Take one of these rifles and follow the yellow line." No mgnônqinsa nâs gî i ûngsâny nyamnyumdî. [no ˈmŋɔːɴinsa nɐːs ɣiː ˈɪːŋsaːŋ ŋamŋumˈdiː]

2P.DAT know-2P.FUT REL when DEF.SPEC experiment start-3S

"You will know (without seeking) when the experiment starts."

Recording of the above. It's kinda mid tier but it'll work.

Partial translation of the Ea-Nasir complaint tablet:

And a link to an original work. It's long as fuck, so putting it directly in this post would feel a bit ridiculous.

Anyway, I really did do the thing, didn't I.

Cheers!

#conlang #cave johnson #ea nasir #i really made a wild one this time didnt i #i love this #im proud of this one #one day i will shatter my brain by learning this crazy language to fluency >:3

6 notes · View notes

coquelicoq · 7 months

Note

first off, if you want to spend more time way overthinking r sounds, there's a GREAT doctoral thesis about r variation in standard dutch. "The Sociophonetics and Phonology of Dutch r" by Koen Sebregts. i still haven't read all of it, but spent most of a dinner talking at my mother and sister about it until they were like "please we are begging you to discuss this with literally anyone else". secondly, /ɥ/ :)

[shipping myself with french phonemes ask game]

you always know exactly what to recommend to me. if i were at that dinner you could talk to me about the sociophonetics and phonology of dutch r by koen sebregts as long as you wanted. rip to your mom and sister and any other bystanders but at least we would be happy!!

i was hoping someone would ask about /ɥ/...this sound has been shrouded in mystery for as long as i can remember. we're talking as early as when i learned to count to dix (because of huit). it was one of the sounds i could hear but could not for the life of me figure out how people were making. it's like we grew up across the street from each other, and she was a little older than me and so smart and pretty and carefree and i grew up just yearning. from afar. knowing that /ɥ/ didn't even know i existed.

so you'd think, what, unrequited pining? WRONG. this is ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP. didn't see that coming did you!!!! that's right, i can now pronounce the /ɥ/ sound. i can say it with my own mouth. and i do! i am saying this sound all over the place! we have ridden off into the sunset! we are on our honeymoon! it is happily ever after all up in here!!!

it's kind of interesting how this came about. i couldn't figure out how to make this sound until i learned how to identify and pronounce the /y/ sound, which makes sense given /ɥ/ is the semivocalic equivalent of /y/, but also makes no sense because then why could i identify /ɥ/ even before i could identify /y/? you'd think i would be able to hear both or neither, but not just one. and yet that is what happened. also, there was about a year between getting comfortable with /y/ and sealing the deal with /ɥ/. not sure what that was about either...like if you can make /y/ you can make /ɥ/, they're the same sound, they just occur in different environments...what would this trope be...ummm this is like if she were a superhero and i were dating her alter ego while also pining after the superhero. like babe i have good news for you! but also it's a little embarrassing after a year of dating to not be able to recognize someone when they take their glasses off.

in any case this is a very recent development, probably within the last year ish? it took me over two decades but i got there in the end. slow burn, happy ending. now if only i could figure out why word-final high vowels sound super aspirated sometimes, which is odd because aspiration is a consonant thing. (current theory is devoicing.) my beautiful wife /ɥ/ gives me the courage to be curious. if i can learn to make /ɥ/, i can learn to make anything. dreams do come true!!

#reading the wikipedia for the voiceless alveolar fricative /ç/ which is the sound mentioned as occurring at the end of words #ending in high vowels in the french phonology section on devoicing:#'The sound further occurs as an allophone [...] of /h/ in the vicinity of front vowels.' um okay. mystery solved maybe???#cuz i'm mostly thinking i hear it with /i/ and /y/. which are both high and front vowels #no fricking clue how to make that sound but i feel better having some idea of what is happening lol #anyway thank you very much for indulging me 🥰#my beloved linguistics mutual #french #phonetics #asks #not anon #links

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chimera-vanya · 1 year

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Very much not sorry, SYLD, autism and Polish teachers in family make me do things.

1. No idea how this is called in English.

Kot — cat. Kotek — little cat. Kocię — very little cat. Kociątko — even more little cat.

2. Evolution.

Proto—Indo—European: mèrtis

Polish now: śmierć

If you listen closely these words do sound similiar but look at the spelling.

3. Devilish phonology

You think you know phonetic alphabet? Loser. This is ,,w Szczebrzeszynie chrząszcz brzmi w trzcinie" (,,In Szczebrzeszyn a beetle buzzes in the field):

And this is How I Unleashed The World War II. Polish prisoner pretends to be named Grzegorz Brzęczyszczykiewicz in order to thwart the Nazi officer who has to keep track of prisoners’ identities.

youtube

4. Double negatives

English: I want nothing

Polish: Niczego nie chcę (I don't want nothing)

5. Swearing

Pierdolić. Such a beautiful word. Pierdolić — to fuck. Przypierdolić — to hit someone intensively. Spierdolić — to fuck up, to run away. Zapierdolić — to steal. There are more.

(Funfact: the word ,,pieprzyć" means ,,to fuck" but also to add pepper.)

6. Idioms

,,Thinking of blue almonds" — daydreaming

,,Not my circus, not my monkeys" — not my problem

,,Flies up your nose" — to be in bad mood

,,Go stuff yourself with hay" — go away

,,Once in a Russian year" — reffering to something that hardly ever happens

,,Elephant stomped on your ear" — you are tone deaf

7. Onomatopeas

English pig: Oink! Oink!

Polish pig: Chrum! Chrum! 👹👹👹👹👹

Why. Just why.

#speak your language day #syld #język polski #vanya talks

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birindale · 1 year

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Etymology: She-Ra

What’s good, it’s time for another foray into etymology, this time featuring the resident magical alter ego, She-Ra! As you may have seen from my Larry Ditillio/Lou Scheimer quotes, the actual etymology is pretty straightforward--She, plus Ra. So we’ll cover that first, then move into homophones and proposed alternative etymologies (largely by people who didn’t know about the actual one).

Section One: She

‘She’, of course, is a third person pronoun in English, here the feminine counterpart to the masculine ‘he’ of He-Man. I’m reasonably confident y’all are familiar with the idea of personal pronouns, given we’re on Tumblr, so we’re just gonna jump right in here.

From Middle English sche <ʃeː> (~’shay’), though it could be rendered scho and ȝho (both pronounced ~‘show’) before we killed the yogh. Luckily for us, in ȝho it’s just pronounced like ‘sh’.

Don’t let the sch fool you, the c in sch was often silent in Middle English. How exactly we arrived at sche, though, is a matter of some debate. This paper summarizes most of the proposals, which has saved you all about eight paragraphs of me rambling about phonemes.

Regardless of its derivation, the vowel situation in ‘she’ is pretty weird--I’m assuming like half of you are familiar with the Great Vowel Shift, but for those that aren’t, the 15th to 18th centuries saw a.... well, great shift in vowels. It’s why so many of our words are spelled so fucked up; one day our long vowels just did an electric slide to the right & suddenly bite was pronounced like byte instead of beet. But one would expect the “e” in sche to unravel into an “o:”, not the “i:” sound we wound up with. It could be the influence of ‘he’, which would be convenient for us, looking at the word as a counterpart to the ‘He’ in He-Man, but historical phonology is a tricky beast. And it could just be an outlier--commonly used words have a tendency to mutate faster.

I think that’s enough about vowels, though. Moving on!

Section Two: Ra

Ra. Good old Ra. God of the sun, the sky, order, kings. Ruler of all three realms, sky earth and underworld. Creator of all life (sometimes). Kind of a big deal.

Not to pat Larry Ditillio on the back too hard here but it was a great choice, phonetically and theologically. There’s even a precedence for using his name as half of a compound, as with Amun-Ra, the New Kingdom’s fusion with Amun. There’s his association with the falcon, shared in MOTU by the god Zoar (and the Sorceress), but he was also usually depicted with the head of a ram in the underworld. And I mean. Skeletor’s Havoc Staff is literally a ram skull, is all I’m saying. Like Ra is a pretty incredible option, here.

A little more Egyptology, because the coincidences don’t stop there. Ra had three daughters, and since this is appending Ra to “She” and they’re all--as the “eye of Ra”--sometimes considered feminine aspects of Ra, I think it’s relevant. And funny, because all three were depicted as cats at one point or another & Catra is right there.

Hathor was goddess of the sky, the sun, music, dance, joy, sexuality, beauty, love, motherhood, queenship, fate, foreign lands and goods, the afterlife, and more! This is a bonkers number of things to be god of, but I don’t think it was ever all at once. Most consistently, she was the embodiment of the Ancient Egyptian perception of femininity. As women’s role in society changed, so did Hathor’s role in the pantheon--for good or ill.

Bastet & Sekhmet are a little more focused. Originally, they were both fearsome warriors, protectors of Egypt & specifically of the pharaoh, but over time Bastet became a gentler take on protection, often with a maternal slant as she became more associated with the house cat than the lion.

Sekhmet on the other hand was (and always would be) literally bloodthirsty. She could breathe fire, cause plagues, and almost destroyed the world once! But she was also a goddess of healing, called upon to ward off illness & injury, patron of healers and physicians alike. [holds up a picture of She-Ra] 🤌 It’s about the duality.

Alright, onto the etymology. ‘Ra’ is pretty straightforward, it’s just how we most commonly transliterate the rꜥ hieroglyphs (though he is often called Re) & Demotic script.

So there are three kinds of hieroglyph, right? Phonetic, like a letter in English, logographic, like a morpheme in written Chinese (which is typically logosyllabic but bear with me here), and determinative, to disambiguate meaning between homophones.

D21, the mouth, provides the ‘r’ sound, as a phonetic hieroglyph. As a logogram it could mean ‘to turn the other way’, but we’re just after the sound here.

D36, the forearm (palm upwards), gives us the ‘ ꜥ ‘, which is... okay, hieroglyphics were an abjad, right? There were no written vowels, you just spoke them. But ꜥ, ayin, was a voiced pharyngeal fricative, which is basically a semivowel (like the Y in English ‘yes’ or the W in ‘west’), which is why its use here can be spelled either ‘Ra’ or ‘Re’, because it’s not representing a distinct vowel sound. One of its descendants, ע, is usually rendered as a glottal stop in Modern Hebrew (or omitted entirely), but another descendant is the English letter O, through the Phoenician ayin. We can’t pronounce the ancient Egyptian ayin based on its derivatives, but we can take historical cues from them.

A glottal stop (like the break in uh-oh) is abrupt, right? Ayin is more like... a glide. A pause. When people make an “I don’t know” sound, that’s the sort of sound. This video is as close as most native English speakers will be able to approximate.

But I digress. We’re only halfway through! Those were the phonetic hieroglyphs, but there are other words pronounced rꜥ, so there are some logograms to help us narrow it down. Unsurprisingly, first is N5, the sun, followed by a Z1, (the numeral one), which indicates that the previous glyph is an ideogram--it’s like a one-character version of “←literally”. Now, by themselves those four glyphs could still just mean ‘the sun’, so to specify that it’s the god being spoken of, in come our determinatives.

This could be either C1, C2, C2A, C2B, or C2C. All depict a god wearing a sun-disk on his head. The C2s are all falcon-headed, and C1, while human, has an uraeus (the little rearing cobra you see on pharaohs’ headdresses and crowns) to emphasize divine authority. Some spellings outside the Unicode standard mix and match accessories, or omit the phonetic hieroglyphs entirely to rely solely on the determinatives. Generally, if you see a god with the sun on its head, it’s either Ra himself or invoking/referencing him (which was done frequently in pharaohs’ names).

Okay. Switching gears.

So hieroglyphs are kind of a bitch to write out, right? You don’t want to take the time to draw a whole little guy when you’re just making a list of supplies or something. So they invented this shit called hieratics that was basically cursive hieroglyphics, which eventually became the Demotic script! Ra was written G7-Z5-N5, (still rꜥ), or pꜣrꜥ (conventionally pronounced pa-re), with the pꜣ functioning as a demonstrative determiner to indicate that yes, they mean the god.

Section Three: Homophones

Those of you who have tried to google ‘She-Ra bible’ may be familiar with Sheera of Chronicles 1 7:24. Chronicles is the last book (split into 2 for Christian bible) of the Tanakh, wrapping up the Ketuvim with a genealogy and history of Judah & Israel. To oversimplify: David, Solomon, Babylonian exile, Cyrus the Great swoops in and lets everyone back in & okays the building of the Second Temple around 539 BCE. Only non-Jewish messiah in the Tanakh, and relevant here because the Ancient Greeks thought his name meant ‘Sun’, from Persian خور, ‘xʷaɾ‘. It’s also been translated as hero, humiliator of enemies, youth/young, and one who bestows care. It is almost certainly unrelated to C’yra (of D’riluth III), but the possibility remains until Scott answers my fucking email.

Anyway, Sheera/h. שארה‎ (שֶׁאֱרָ֔ה, with niqqud). That ה (funnily enough, named he) is a suffix indicating a singular feminine noun, which has been applied to שאר‎, sh-’-r (or sh-a-r, depending on how you render the aleph. I used an A in my post on Adora with אדור but it feels weird as a infix, especially given what I did with the ayin in section 2). Let’s take a look at its definitions:

Sha’ar means to remain, to be a remnant, and its derived nouns she’ar and she’erit mean remains, residue, etc. In the Tanakh it refers almost exclusively to survivors, people or things left behind when everyone/thing else has died, often violently. Noah & his passengers on the Ark after the flood, Lot & his daughters after Sodom and Gomorrah--did y’all know the town they went to after was called Zoar? The aforementioned falcon god in He-Man? It’s a coincidence but what the fuck. Naomi and her sons in Ruth 1:3, then just Naomi in 1:5. Oh, and she renamed herself Mara like ten lines after that. Shit like this just kept happening, I had to stop looking at examples bc it was freaking me out.

She’er, meanwhile, means flesh, both in terms of flesh for consumption & one’s flesh and blood. It can also mean physical power (Psalm 78:20), but I for one assumed that shit was metaphorical. On the other hand, who am I to deny another fun little parallel with our Princess of Power? A lot of people prefer this for the underlying meaning of Sheerah’s name, since she’s explicitly someone’s daughter & it could just be like “(singular feminine) kin”. But I think that’s boring (even if the prospect of like, “Fleshella” or some shit is both objectively hilarious and kind of in line with MOTU names) and a little unremarkable to name three cities for. Did I forget to mention they built three cities named after Sheerah? #girlboss

Last of the שאר is she’or, meaning leaven (the noun, not the verb). In Modern Hebrew it’s more often spelled שאור, with a waw added in to disambiguate the pronunciation.

Onto some other homonyms, bc that was technically just one!

Shir, an anglicization of شیر, Classical & Iranian Persian for ‘lion’, one of the plurals for which is شیرها‎ (šir-hâ), which admittedly is more like “sheer-ha” but say it out loud before you judge me for its inclusion here, huh? The singular’s also part of شیرزن‎ (širzan, “heroine”).

There’s Macedonian and Serbo-Croation шира/šira , "must" (fermented/ing juice, not necessity).

Cira, which is Sicilian for “wax”.

شيرة and شْيَرَة, Hijazi and Gulf Arabic (respectively) for syrup, from Persian شیره‎. There’s a lot of Persian origins here huh. Shame Purrsia isn’t canon, could’ve had a field day.

Okay one more in Hebrew. Shira/h, שירה, is poetry, verse, singing. In Modern Hebrew shir is a song and shirah is a poem, but that distinction didn’t always exist. The other derivatives of the שׁ-י-ר stem are all related to this. You’ll note that the second letter is a yodh, not an aleph as in the above שארה‎, whose stem was שאר. There’s like a 99% chance that Larry Ditillio’s niece Shirah’s name is derived from this.

Section Four: Shit I’ve Seen People Claim it Means

Most understandably, I’ve seen people claiming they just stuck an S on the rejected name “Hera” and broke it in two to mirror He-Man. So just to cover our bases, Ἥρα (Hera) is of uncertain derivation. Potentially a feminine form of ἥρως (hḗrōs) or related to ὥρα (hṓra)--the former being the ancestor of our word hero, in epics specifically heroes of the Trojan War, but generally humans or demigods venerated at local shrines. The latter refers primarily to time--hours, years, seasons--and youth. The youth reading is supported by the Roman name for her, Juno, which is also of uncertain derivation, but one of those likens it to iuvenis, young (like the juve in rejuvenate).

Asherah the ‘mother goddess’. I admit I wasn’t expecting this one. Asherah (the spelling I’ll be sticking to for consistency’s sake) was, admittedly, kind of a big deal in the ancient Levant. In the interest of not going full theology essay while I’m trying to talk about names, suffice to say she was the consort of the king of the gods (El, Elkunirsa, Yahweh, ‘Amm, Baal, etc.) in quite a few religions, some of which have dropped the polytheism thing & Asherah along with it. (The others are dead).

It’s written אשרה in Hebrew, so roughly ‘sh-r-’ if I’m sticking to my aleph conventions. She was also called Athirat in Ugaritic, an extinct Semitic language ( 𐎀𐎘𐎗𐎚, ʾAṯirat), though before 1200 BCE she was almost always referred to with her full title, 𐎗𐎁𐎚 𐎀𐎘𐎗𐎚 𐎊𐎎, rbt ʾṯrt ym. This is another abjad so we gotta adlib our vowels, but most people go with rabītu, for ‘lady’. The ym could refer either to her son, Yam, or the sea which he was the embodiment of, but the middle bit is tricky. It’s her name (that Athirat), but some people think it’s derived from the Ugaritic ʾaṯr for ‘to stride’, so her full title could be translated as Lady Athirat of the Sea, Lady who walks on Yam/the Sea Dragon/Tyre (the city). However, a more recent translation derives it from the root y-w-m, ‘day’, which would make her Lady Asherah of the Day/s (or even just Lady Day).

Another epithet was qnyt ʾilm ( 𐎖𐎐𐎊𐎚 𐎛𐎍𐎎), variously ‘creatress of the gods’ (page 58), used in the Baal Cycles recovered from Ugarit. Since it’s a port city, her association with the sea was emphasized, and in this version she had 70 sons (though the Hittites claim 77 or 88).

She’s also called ʾElat, 'goddess' (from El, as in names like Michael or Gabriel), and Qodeš, 'holiness', from q-d-š, which makes some people equate her with the Egyptian goddess Qetesh, which is pretty flimsy but funny here because guess who she’s associated with? (It’s Ra. She’s also sometimes depicted as a lion/with Hathor’s wig. It’s a small ancient world after all)

Asherah & her iconography are mentioned 40 times in the Tanakh, but that’s cut way down in most English translations, where ʾăšērâ was almost entirely translated as ἄλσος/ἄλση (grove/s) in Greek, except for Isaiah 17:8; 27:9, where it's δένδρα (trees) and 2 Chronicles 15:16; 24:18, where it's Ἀστάρτη--Astarte, a goddess of war, sexuality, royal power, healing, and hunting more associated with Ishtar than Asherah. Possible consort of Baal so almost certainly not actually Asherah. She did turn up in Egypt in the 18th dynasty as a daughter of either Ra or Ptah (Bastet’s consort), though, which is fun for me.

Asherah's very associated with trees though, so it does make sense they’d translate it to groves/trees. Found under trees in 1 Kings 14:23; 2 Kings 17:10, carved from wood by people 1 Kings 14:15, 2 Kings 16:3–4--there in reference to poles made for her worship, also called “asherah”. The Mishnah defines an asherah first as any tree under which there’s an idol, then specifically as any tree which is itself worshipped.

It lists associated plants: grapes, pomegranates, and walnut shells (invalid to eat or drink if from an asherah), and that myrtles, willows, and etrogs (but not dates?) were invalidated for Sukkot if from an asherah. I think the implication is pretty much any plant with a use can’t be utilized if it was an asherah, but there’s no like, description of what an asherah is or isn’t (except not allowed, which like, fair).

Regardless, to relate it to She-Ra is like... like you can’t just say that, man. The Da Vinci Code of fandom over here, except I’m personally upset about the false etymology instead of the disrespect to my boy Leonardo (da Vinci isn’t a name), and it pisses off every Abrahamic religion and like half of all neopagans. Are you happy? Now this whole section is blasphemous and heretical.

Let’s end this on a sillier note, shall we? It’s time to talk about questionable MOTUC decisions again.

No one sincerely suggested these for our world, but MOTUC established “the sword of He” as the ‘real name’ of He-Man’s sword, and it was later clarified that ‘He’ is the Ancient Trollan word for ‘power’... which, as you can imagine, led to a lot of confusion. It was never established if ‘Man’ is also Trollan, so the apparent translation is Power-Man (leading one forum user to jokingly ask if that made She-Ra ‘Iron-Fist’, after the Marvel duo). Naturally, people have speculated about possible translations for She-Ra, but the guy responsible for the Sword of He stuff left the company in 2014, so it’s likely to remain speculation.

Primarily people suggest ‘She’ might mean ‘protection’ or even ‘honor’, but very few people try to account for ‘Ra’. Most likely because it doesn’t mirror an English pronoun, so there’s little point in drawing parallels. The one and only theory I’ve seen is that it’s a feminine version of ‘Ro’, from He-Ro (a historical figure in MOTU), but it’s logically fraught, imo. Although frankly so is the Sword of He to begin with, so maybe I should just relax for once.

What do you think? What does She-Ra mean to you?

#etymology #analysis #she-ra #great news everybody i got it under 3k #if you thought my entry on adora was bad like. whoof. you ain't seen nothing yet

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linguadesk · 2 years

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Back to school.

October 4th, 2022

Today, I finally got back to school, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I’ve been waiting for months for this moment. I’ve watched my friends evolving around me between the last time I was in school and today. Some graduated, some started to work, others went abroad, and younger ones entered university. I am so glad they’re all up to something great, for I deeply care for them, but the thing is I felt left out all this time. I am not well informed about the condition of students in other countries, but here in France, if you are a student who doesn’t work during your summer break, you may be perceived as a lazy person. For nearly 5 months I’ve endured mockery about my status as a student, “you’re doing nothing”, “you’re always on vacation”, “I bet you woke up at 2pm!”, “why don’t you get a job?” … Yup, I’m so sorry I am just a student, I am not the one fixing the university’s calendar, and I most certainly don’t want to take the job of someone who needs it more than me.

Well, sorry I didn’t mean to complain, I just wanted to share my enthusiasm for finally getting back to school and studying! It’s the beginning of my last year in this cycle, in France it’s called a “licence” which I think is equivalent to a bachelor’s degree ? For those who know, please correct me if I am wrong!

Anyway, after this year I will not be majoring in linguistics anymore so I’m determined to enjoy each class.

Here is a list of the classes I’m taking for this semester, which will go on for 12 weeks (not counting breaks!)

- corpus linguistics

- areal linguistics

- typological syntax

- phonology

- comparative phonetics

- history of the description of French and its teaching

- pathology of language acquisition

- Russian

- initiation to Latin

I had a beautiful view during lunch, what a sunny day! And well, I really need to get used to write fast again. Game is on.

#linguadesk #studyblr #studyspo #uni life #studying #academia #linguistics

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lyxthen · 1 year

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Names of characters [in my WIP conlang] I may or may not use. I know very few people care, so that's why it's under the cut <3

Nwibahen /nwibahen/ - Snow-daughter (feminine)

Twirabalázi /twiɾabalaːzi/ - Silver-speak (femenine)

Suzuru /suʃuɾu/ - Blue (masculine)

Twilihanázi /twilihanaːʃi/- Shining Beauty (feminine)

Nasári /nasaːɾi/ - Love (neutral)

Kelepmólizun /kelepmoːliʃun/ - Metal-Maker, "Great Smith" (neutral)

Nitahen /nitahen/ - Dawn-daughter (femenine)

Ranhet - /ɾanhet/ Son of Ran (masculine)

Nekokanóri /nekokanoːɾi/- Small Flame (neutral)

Kandiliryu /kandiliɾju/ - Dancer (masculine)

Lalát /lalaːt/ - Meaning Unknown

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

So. Some of these names do correspond with actual characters: some very old characters in fact. I created Nasári when I was around 13, but she was called "Nsari" (you already know her, I posted art of her a while ago). I hadn't quite created a conlang back then, I just put sounds together that I thought sounded nice. But now I am trying to create a conlang for these people, and so I had to adapt the names to the phonology and phonoaesthetics of this new language. So Nsari became Nasári, Lalaith became Lalát, and Nithaen became Nitahen. I also added meaning to these names (though Nithaen already meant "Dawn": it was a combination of the root 'nith', sunrise/sundown, and the suffix 'aen' used for feminine names).

Twilihanázi is another name for Nasári: That is her queen name. The suffixes "zi", "zek" and "zun" are used only for important people, they are honorifics of sorts. When a Princess becomes a Queen, for example, she gets a "ruling name", and her birth name becomes a "private name". Twilihanázi is Nasári's ruling name, since she's basically a goddess.

Nwibahen and Twirabalázi are in fact the same character. She is not a goddess, but a princess. Nwiba means "Snow", and Nwibahen is the daughter of a snow spirit. Upon becoming Queen, she is given the name "Twirabalázi" because she is an amazing poet and good diplomat.

Suzuru is his husband. I don't yet have a king name for him.

Nekokanóri is a name I made up for my cat. She is indeed a yellow cat.

Also: the gender of the suffixes doesn't always correspond with the gender of the person with a given name. There are women who have names with a -ru suffix, or men with a -rá suffix. It's just a guideline, and it depends more on the aesthetic of the resulting name.

#my post #back on my conlang bullshit #Also yes I am re-using some stuff I had for my ninjago conlang that I never finished #So I'm not starting from scratch

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masterkirby · 1 month

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Gender is our rind, our crust

or: We are bread and gender is just our crispy crust

disclaimer:

Interpretation is free and gender needn't be just our crust but also our bread and butter

machine translation fun fun

[image description: a quote of Arthur Schopenhauer translated automatically by google translate that reads: "Libraries are solely the safe and lasting memory of the human sex."]

[image description: a quote of Arthur Schopenhauer in German that reads: "Bibliotheken sind allein das sichere und bleibende Gedaechtnis des menschlichen Geschlechts."]

Ok, but tbf

I was also surprised to learn that gender comes from genus, so "sort" or "kind"

this actually led me on a small quest for the (as close as I can get) origins of grammatical gender which I was looking for in phonological constraints; I didn't real get far in that quest cause phonology itself probably isn't enough; it seems like more conceptual or abstract categories count as well ! (thinking about Polish ta miłość "love", ta ciemność "darkness" and the ilk)

anyway

the Polish word for "grammatical gender" is rodzaj and for "sexual gender" is płeć; ig there's also the differentiation between płeć biologiczna and płeć kulturowa so basically "biological sex" and "gender".

But płeć is the important thing in what I want to say cause the obsolete meaning is "skin, complexion", and I suppose that's the meaning the current meaning "sex" is derived from

the PAN Large (XD) Dictionary of the Polish Language gives that etymology:

[image description and translation from Polish: the word płeć comes from Proto-Slavic meaning "human skin, skin colour, complexion.]

and from the PWN Polish Dictionary:

[image description and translation from Polish: an entry about the word płeć: obsolete. Skin (especially on the face); complexion, examples: "He had a golden complexion, like peaches"; " He came towards his mother's carriage by foot but she didn't care to remove the mask she would wear to protect her complexion from the sun"; "In order to have more beautiful skin he would sleep with veal cutlets plastered on his face"; "His face (lineament) was shapely, his complexion healthy and robust, glowing warmly against his dark whiskers".]

(also maszkarka is such a beautiful word for "mask" that I didn't know of before doing this bit of research!! Just like the word that I translated as carriage is actually a region specific type of carriage, a kolasa)

Ok, ok, so skin, right? The outermost feature of a human body, right, right?

So a Lithuanian cognate of płeć is pluta meaning "rind (especially of bread)" or "(figuratively) something hard and covering another thing; crust, example: Žemės pluta - "Earth's crust".

[image description: wiktionary page for the Lithuanian word pluta.]

For an enby I love that image so much, gender as just our crust, just our outward maszkarka

Ofc I get that this makes me feel cozy and not so much people for whom the innermost feelings of gender are an important part of their identity and lives !!

#etymology #gender #płeć #polish #non binary #bread #gender is our crust #but perhaps also our bread and butter

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conlanging101 · 1 month

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Conlanging Tools: Honest and Direct

You dive into conlanging tools, hoping for miracles. What you find? A mix of disappointing software. Word generators like VulgarLang give you empty words. Sound change appliers? Stuck in the past, barely pushing your conlang forward. IPA on TypeIt helps, but doesn't fix everything. And 'custom' dictionaries? They limit creativity. These tools are like using a dull knife for surgery: crudely effective but deeply flawed. Yet, there's a hint of hope in navigating these tricky waters.

Conlang Tools Overview

- Tools like VulgarLang make unique conlang vocabularies. - To evolve conlang sounds over time, use sound change appliers. - Use tools like Freelang Dictionary and Contionary to organize and grow conlang words. - Keyboard layout tools, such as Ukelele, make typing in conlangs with special characters easier. - Use IPA on TypeIt for precise conlang phonology with the International Phonetic Alphabet.

Essential Software Tools

To make your conlang creation smoother, you need tools like word generators and sound change appliers. Many don't realize their importance. Word generators, such as VulgarLang and Awkwords, are crucial. They shape your language's identity, not just spit out random syllables. And sound change appliers? If you haven't used them, you're way behind. Keyboard layout creators are also vital. Ever tried typing your conlang without one? It's a nightmare. Tools like Ukelele make typing easy, turning your unique characters into something as simple as the ABCs. And don't forget about the International Phonetic Alphabet. Tools like IPA on TypeIt are necessary for precision. Lastly, wiki tools like Clade Editor are essential for organization. Without them, managing your conlang's details is like trying to herd cats. In short, without these tools, you're not just complicating your work; you're missing out on modern conlanging essentials.

Creating a Custom Dictionary

Creating a custom dictionary for your constructed language (conlang) requires essential tools. Vulgar, Freelang Dictionary, WeSay, and Contionary are helpful. But, they often fall short. They provide a place to store words but not the essence of your language. You want to create a language with complexity and beauty. The basic templates of these tools can restrict creativity. The online translator features? They're unreliable, often misinterpreting the nuances of conlangs. These tools offer a starting point. But, creating a detailed language requires more. It's like using a screwdriver to build a house. It's a tool, but not the right one for such a task.

Advancements in Phonology Tools

Advancements in phonology tools have greatly improved how conlangers create their languages. You might think this makes creating an online translator for your conlang easy. But, most tools still leave you hanging, much like William S. did with his characters in the middle of their speeches. These tools promised precision and control. You could adjust phoneme frequency, manage clusters, and set syllables. But in reality, it feels like directing a symphony through a command line. The last update? Ages ago. Yes, you can set word length and more. But moving from theory to practice is like jumping over a canyon without a bridge. The evolution of these tools? It's a slow crawl forward. Premium versions offer advanced features, but innovation should be standard, not expensive.

Navigating Social Media Resources

I'm here to help you. Just let me know what you need assistance with.

Exploring Unique Language Tools

I understand. Thank you for letting me know. If you have any other questions or need assistance with something else, feel free to ask.

Frequently Asked Questions

What Is the Website for Making Conlangs? You want a website for creating artificial languages? FrathWiki is your place. It has tools and resources like word generators and linguistic databases. It makes creating languages easy. Is There an App to Create Your Own Language? Yes, you can make your own language easily. Use apps like Vulgar, Lexifer, and GenGo. They let you create words and control syllables, making your language unique. How Do You Come up With Vocabulary for a Conlang? To make words for your conlang, mix language parts and cultural hints. Use patterns and rules to grow. It's mixing creativity and order to make a distinct language identity. How Do You Evolve a Language in Conlang? To evolve your conlang, start with a proto-language. Apply sound changes, shift meanings, and add new grammar. Consider culture's impact. Record the changes for realistic growth. Simply put, conlanging tools promise ease but often disappoint. They leave you stuck in shallow phoneme pools, not the linguistic seas you hoped for. The 'advanced' phonology generators? Just fancy noise. And custom dictionary creators? Their clunky interfaces and poor customization frustrate. It's a false promise of efficiency. You're better off with pen, paper, and patience. Believe me, the 'shortcut' leads to frustration. Read the full article

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theforgottendaydreamer · 2 months

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hi! sorry if this is annoying, but I'm queer and learning Italian (my teacher is awesome!) and I know there are no "gender neutral pronouns" but I've heard that queer people with languages kinda make up their own? Is that also true for Italian? ty! 🩷

Hi! Not annoying at all.

So, Italian doesn't have an official neutral form. Latin used to have it, but we lost it in Italian. There are a few ways to get around the problem when it comes to written communication.

Some use ə (schwa) to replace the gendered vowel at the end of most adjectives. -> for "beautiful", we have bello (m.), bella (f.), bellə (g.n.)

Some people directly omit the gendered vowel (e.g. bell)

Some people substitute the gendered vowel with an x (e.g. bellx) or with an asterisk (e.g. brav*)

Some replace the gendered vowel with "u" (e.g. bellu)

Now, pronouns- we have "egli/lui" (he) and "ella/lei" (she), and a written gender neutral option can be "ləi". Same goes for "essi" (them, m.) and "esse" (them, f.) but honestly nobody uses these anymore, we just say "loro" (g.n.).

Unfortunately, this doesn't really work with oral communication, because the schwa doesn't belong to Italian phonology, so even though we can absolutely pronounce it, it doesn't sound natural. For context, ə is what we have in words like /ˈtʃɪldrən/ (children). Italian doesn't have it, since its phonology only includes /a, ɛ, e, i, ɔ, o, u/

The substitution with "u" is the only option that works when speaking out loud, and it doesn't sound too off, nor too different from ə (not to untrained ears, anyway), so you can go with that.

And of course, you can't just pronounce the x like that at the end of a word- in English, it's either /ks/ or /gz/ depending on its position, but the Italian language doesn't work like that. We have words with x, such as ''ex'', ''extra'', ''xenofobia'', but as you notice they're all words imported from Latin (sometimes Greek), and despite popular beliefs, Italian and Latin are widely different- even if most of us could, technically, understand about 70% of any text written in Latin.

Also, * and x at the end of words are not immediately understandable for people who use text-to-speech.

It's easier when it comes to nouns, because fortunately most nouns have a gender neutral option that wasn't ''crafted'' with that purpose.

For example, instead of saying ''Sono solo una povera ragazza." (''I'm just a poor girl'') I use ''persona'', which is ''person'' (duh). OFC, in this case, the adjective ''povera'' will remain feminine because the noun ''persona'' is feminine- but just like it happens in English, the noun ''persona'' is for everyone, male, female, enby. It's neutral, it just means ''person''.

Nobody prevents you from using gender neutral nouns instead of gendered nouns, and same goes for adjectives, but sometimes you need to think ahead.

Some examples may be: bell-o/a > di bell'aspetto; simpatic-o/a > divertente; maestr-o/a and professor-e/essa> insegnante; dottor-e/essa > medico; carin-o/a > adorabile/gentile (context); buon-o/a > piacevole.

Now, the devil (for Italian kids, too): the dreaded apostrophe. What's the difference between ''un atleta'' and ''un'atleta'' (an athlete)? The first one is masculine, the second one is feminine. With nouns that are preceded by indefinite articles (sing.), and that start with a vowel, if the noun that follows is feminine, you need to add an apostrophe.

Even if you didn't know Italian, if you read ''un'ombra'', ''un orso'', ''un elicottero'', ''un'elica'', ''un'ape'', ''un amo'', etc, you'd be immediately able to distinguish feminine and masculine nouns.

So, going back to the ''atleta'' example, even if it's a gender-neutral option, when writing (because the presence of the apostrophe doesn't influence on the pronounciation) you're still going to have to give a gender to it, unless you get around it by saying ''Faccio l'atleta'' (lit. ''I do the athlete''. It's a correct way to say ''I'm an athlete''.)

A gendered sentence like "Ciao, mi chiamo X, sono una ragazza di 20 anni e sono un'atleta. Mi dicono tutti che sono bella, ma io mi sento orrenda. Da grande, vorrei fare la dottoressa." can be turned into ''Ciao, mi chiamo X, ho 20 anni e faccio l'atleta. Mi dicono tutti che sono di bell'aspetto, ma io mi sento inguardabile. Da grande, vorrei fare il medico."

("Hi, my name's X, I'm a 20 yr-old girl and I'm an athlete. Everyone tells me I'm pretty, but I feel ugly. When I grow up, I'd like to be a doctor.")

You have to think outside the box, you know? Personally, as a non-binary person, I use ə when I refer to myself (written), and try to use as many gender-neutral options as I can, both when I write and speak. I don't use the "u" substitution but I should start- it takes effort and 'training'. NGL, it's hard, and sometimes there's just no way of getting around it, but it's mostly doable!!

I hope this answers your question!

#maybe i said too much?#ask #italian #linguistics #lgbtq+

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abdulshaikh5253 · 6 months

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Unlocking the Beauty of Language: A Journey into Arabic Learning

The beauty of language lies in its diversity, richness, and ability to connect people across the globe. Among the world's languages, Arabic stands out as a true gem, celebrated for its historical significance, cultural richness, and the lyrical elegance of its script. Learning Arabic is not just a linguistic endeavour; it is a journey that leads to a deeper understanding of a world brimming with tradition, history, and vibrant communities. In this article, we embark on a journey into the realm of Arabic learning, exploring its importance, challenges, and the allure of this enchanting language.

The Importance of Arabic Language

Arabic, with its roots dating back over a thousand years, has played a pivotal role in shaping the world's history, culture, and language. As the language of the Quran, it holds immense religious significance for over a billion Muslims worldwide. Beyond its religious importance, Arabic is a linguistic treasure trove that has influenced countless other languages, including Spanish, Portuguese, and English, through the spread of Arabic science, literature, and philosophy during the Islamic Golden Age.

The beauty of Arabic lies in its intricate calligraphy, poetic traditions, and rich vocabulary. For those interested in delving into Arabic literature, it offers access to a vast body of work, from the timeless verses of classical poets like Al-Mutanabbi to the contemporary prose of Naguib Mahfouz.

The Diversity of Arabic

Arabic is not a monolithic language; it's a diverse family of dialects and forms. The two main variations are Modern Standard Arabic (MSA) and the numerous regional dialects. MSA is used in formal contexts, such as news broadcasts and official documents, while regional dialects are spoken in everyday life.

The diversity of Arabic dialects reflects the cultural and geographical variations within the Arab world. Learning MSA is essential for reading and writing, but an appreciation of Arabic's full beauty comes from understanding and speaking its dialects. The nuances in pronunciation, vocabulary, and idioms make Arabic a rich tapestry of expressions.

Arabic Learning Resources

To embark on a journey into Arabic, learners have access to a wealth of resources. Arabic language courses, both in traditional classrooms and online, cater to all levels of proficiency. Textbooks, language apps, and multimedia materials provide a structured approach to learning. Online platforms like Duolingo, Memrise, and Rosetta Stone offer interactive lessons, making it convenient for learners to practice at their own pace.

For those who prefer a more immersive experience, language schools in Arabic-speaking countries offer a profound way to learn. Egypt, Jordan, and the United Arab Emirates are popular destinations for learners seeking a deep dive into Arabic culture and language.

Challenges and Tips for Arabic Learners

Arabic, with its unique script and phonology, presents challenges to learners. The Arabic script, written from right to left, is a beautiful calligraphic system that can seem daunting at first. The script's cursive nature and varying forms of letters make it an art in itself. But like any challenge, learning Arabic script is immensely rewarding. It opens the door to understanding classical texts and appreciating the visual artistry of Arabic calligraphy.

Arabic pronunciation can be tricky for non-native speakers. The language has sounds that are not present in many other languages. Learning to pronounce guttural sounds like "ع" and "ح" can be a hurdle, but with practice, they become accessible.

Here are some tips for Arabic learners:

Focus on the script: Learning the Arabic script is foundational to reading and writing in Arabic.

Regular practice: Consistency is key to mastering Arabic pronunciation and vocabulary.

Engage with native speakers: Conversing with native Arabic speakers helps improve speaking and comprehension skills.

Explore dialects: Understanding regional dialects enhances your communication abilities.

The Beauty of Arabic Script

Arabic script is an art form in its own right. The visual beauty of the script, with its elegant curves and flowing lines, is a reflection of the Arab world's cultural heritage. Arabic calligraphy is not only an artistic expression but also a means of preserving the language and religious texts. The art of calligraphy has deep cultural and spiritual significance and is celebrated in various forms across the Arab world.

Arabic Learning Methods

Learning Arabic can be pursued through various methods, each catering to different preferences and objectives. Here are some common approaches:

Formal Classroom Learning: Enrolling in Arabic language courses at educational institutions provides structured guidance.

Online Language Learning: There is a plethora of online platforms and apps designed for Arabic learners.

Self-Study: For those who prefer independent learning, self-study through textbooks and online resources is a viable option.

Language Immersion: Traveling to an Arabic-speaking country and immersing oneself in the language and culture can be highly effective.

The choice of method depends on individual learning styles and goals. Some learners thrive in a classroom environment, while others prefer the flexibility of online learning. Immersion is particularly effective for those seeking cultural understanding along with language proficiency.

Cultural and Historical Context

Understanding Arabic within its cultural and historical context is vital to appreciating the language fully. Arabic is not just a medium of communication but a gateway to Arab heritage, traditions, and identity. Learning Arabic provides insights into the profound influence of Islamic civilization, from art and architecture to science and philosophy. It unveils the rich tapestry of Arabic literature, from classical poetry to contemporary novels.

Real-Life Applications of Arabic

Learning Arabic is not limited to academics or personal interests. Proficiency in Arabic offers numerous real-life advantages. For those pursuing careers in international relations, diplomacy, translation, or journalism, Arabic language skills are highly sought after. With political and economic developments in the Arab world, Arabic speakers play a crucial role in bridging cultural gaps and fostering understanding.

Arabic is also a language of travel. Exploring Arabic-speaking countries becomes more enriching when you can communicate with locals in their language. It opens doors to unique experiences and interactions.

Challenges and Rewards

Embarking on a journey into Arabic learning is not without its challenges. The script, pronunciation, and dialects can be initially daunting. Yet, the rewards are immeasurable. Learning Arabic broadens horizons, enriches cultural understanding, and provides access to a vast reservoir of literature and history. It opens doors to careers and experiences that are otherwise inaccessible. The sense of achievement and personal growth that comes with mastering Arabic is a reward in itself.

Conclusion

The Arabic language is a treasure trove of culture, history, and tradition. Learning Arabic is not merely about acquiring a new skill; it's about embarking on a journey into a world of beauty and significance. As we've explored in this article, the challenges are real, but the rewards are even greater. Learning Arabic is a gateway to understanding a diverse and influential part of the world, and it is a journey worth undertaking. In a world that thrives on connections and communication.

#Arabic Learning

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