Showing posts with label Conlang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conlang. Show all posts

Friday, August 27, 2021

Anarchism in Korea: From revolution to reaction?



"Anarchism in Korea: Independence, Transnationalism, and the Question of National Development 1919-1984" is a book published in 2016, authored by Dongyoun Hwang. I can´t say I like it: English clearly isn´t the author´s first language, his "dialectical understanding" of anarchism is just pseudo-erudition, and he is extremely talkative. The book is really an attempted narrative history of Korean anarchism, made extra difficult by the paucity of sources, rather than an "analysis" in the usual sense of that term. And while the author emphasizes the "transnational" character of Korean anarchism, he gives relatively little background on the Chinese and Japanese anarchists the Korean ones were transnationally cooperating with. 

Apparently, the Korean anarchists are usually depicted as "nationalist" in Korean historiography, which explains why the author (as already indicated) rather emphasizes its cosmopolitan aspects. Anarchist and other socialist ideas entered East Asia through Tokyo and Shanghai, two international metropoles. On the anarchist side, the ideas of Kropotkin were particularly popular. Another staple was Esperanto! The Korean anarchists were largely active in Japan and China. A Korean diaspora existed in both nations. In Korea itself, anarchist activity was ruthlessly suppressed by the Japanese colonial police. Somewhat ironically, there was less repression in Japan itself (until that nation became a militarist dictatorship). One group of Korean anarchists was active at the universities in Tokyo, another among Korean immigrant workers in Osaka. The author´s description of the Osaka group in particular is contradictory: was it anti-nationalist, nationalist, syndicalist, individualist, or what? 

In China, most Korean anarchists do strike me as nationalist. At the very least, most of them were closer to the KMT and the left-KMT than to the Communist Party. That is, they cooperated with the Chinese nationalists. During the 1930´s, in response to Japan´s invasion of China, the China-based Korean anarchists adopted a kind of popular front policy, calling for broadest possible anti-Japanese unity between the KMT, CCP, and (later) the Allies in World War II. However, even now, they were closer to the KMT and the so-called Provisional Government of Korea, than to the Communists. 

After World War II, many Korean anarchists returned to Korea - or rather South Korea - and begun a period of more fundamental reorientation. The author points out that while the anarchists singled out Communism as an enemy to be thrown out of the Korean peninsula, they never explicitly opposed capitalism or imperialism in South Korea, instead attacking "feudal remnants". The anarchists formed several short-lived political parties, one of them claiming loyalty to the Socialist International! (That is, the international organization of mostly Social Democratic parties.) Another faction concentrated on rural reform. Dongyoun Hwang may be right that the Korean anarchist movement de facto supported South Korea against North Korea, or at the very least went into a kind of political hibernation, perhaps waiting for the ROK to become democratic. 

The trajectory of the Korean anarchists is interesting, and was traversed by anarchists in other parts of the world, too, not least the Swedish SAC (the independent syndicalist labor union) which abjured revolution after World War II, called for piecemeal reforms of democratic polities through producer cooperatives, and actually supported South Korea during the Korean War! (In 1976, SAC became more leftist again.) Had I been a Communist, I would have considerable fun with "Anarchism in Korea"! 

I´m not sure who could possibly be interested in this narrow topic, but as you know, the Ashtar Command reviews everything... 


Monday, September 24, 2018

The Bable Bible



This is an extremely weird Bible edition, one of many similar available on Kindle. It's a translation of the Gospels into three different languages, placed side by side on a verse-by-verse basis. The Gospel texts in this edition are supposedly excerpted from the Bible in Basic English (BBE), Le Sainte Bible from 1887 and the Slovak Rohacek edition from 1936.

However, the introductory presentations mention entirely different Bible editions in English and French, respectively. This is not a trivial error, since Basic English is really a conlang, and hence not “standard” English. As for the French edition, the introduction mentions a 18th century Protestant translation based on Calvin's Geneva Bible, while Le Sainte is the name of a 19th century Catholic ditto based on the Vulgate. However, it wasn't published in 1887.

As far as I can tell, the English translation really is the BBE, though. I haven't checked the French version. The Slovak material is from Jozef Rohacek's famous translation, but here the problem is that this particular Bible version probably isn't widely used in Slovakia, being an unofficial Lutheran version in a heavily Catholic nation. Also, Rohacek's language is teeming with archaisms and neologisms (although the Gospels are relatively easy to read). I also wonder who on earth would want to buy a parallel Basic English-French-Archaic Slovak version of the Gospel stories?

All in all, this peculiar project strikes me as near-Babylonian confusion of tongues!

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Constructed Cyrillic Creole



A review of an obscure flag sold by Amazon.

This is the flag (!) of Lingua Franca Nova, a constructed language á la Esperanto and Ido. LFN, as the lingo is known to its fan base on the web, has a vocabulary based on the Romance languages (no surprise there) and a grammar apparently inspired by Creole languages (presumably the point of the operation). The nerds-only character of LFN can be seen from the fact that it uses two alternate alphabets, Latin and Cyrillic (the latter not used by any actual Romance language, unless you count Moldavian during the Soviet period). Of course, the fact that the LFN users have adopted a flag simply compounds the nerdy impression. But then, Esperantists and Idists have flags of their own, so I suppose there are precedents…

Finally, a sample text: “La Asemblea Jeneral proclama esta Declara Universal de Diretos Umana como un ideal comun per la aspira de tota poplas e nasiones, afin cada person e cada organo sosial, con esta Declara en mente constante, va promove la respeta de esta diretos e librias par eleva e instrui, e par mesuras progresante, e nasional e internasional, va securi la reconose e aplica universal e produosa, entre la poplas de la statos parteninte e de la teritorios su se autoria legal.”

Amen. Or perhaps amenido.

Monday, September 3, 2018

New Age before the New Age?




This volume contains 12 issues of "The Theosophical Messenger", also called "The American Theosophist". They were published from October 1910 to September 1911. I skimmed six of the issues. The magazine was published by the American section of the Theosophical Society Adyar, led by Annie Besant and C. W. Leadbeater.

What strikes the reader almost immediately are the similarities between Adyar Theosophy and later New Age thinking. Indeed, Theosophy is one of the fonts of inspiration for the New Age. "The Theosophical Messenger" is very syncretistic (or broad-minded). Apart from material based on Blavatsky's "The Secret Doctrine" about planetary chains and root-races, there are articles on the esoteric interpretation of the Catholic mass, Plato, Appolonius of Tyana, Christian knighthood and the Holy Grail, vampires, ghosts, Co-Masonry and Tibet. There is even a positive appreciation of Francis Bacon. The Lords of Venus (transformed into UFO occupants by later contactees) are mentioned, as is Shamballa. More surprising are pro-Muslim articles written by Annie Besant. Ironically, one issues of the magazine carriers a portrait of Muhammad! Ooops.

The extensive activities of the Adyar organization are evident from several articles about Esperanto, including the announcement of an Esperanto League of the TS Order of Service. The Theosophists also express support for the peace movement, for reformist socialism and (of course) for Hinduism and Buddhism. However, demands for Home Rule in India are absent. Besant presumably still kept a low political profile (that would change a few years later).

The magazine also contains very bizarre material. The second coming of Christ is said to be imminent. Of course, "Christ" was really Jiddu Krishnamurti, an Indian Brahmin boy discovered by Leadbeater. Leadbeater's clairvoyant investigations "revealed" that Krishnamurti alias Alcyone had lived countless of previous lives, and these are meticulously documented. Here, the syncretism is more absurd than usual, with Alcyone's friends in Atlantis (?) having names such as Surya, Herakles, Mars, and so on. Leadbeater also claims that the famous 14th century Tibetan guru Tsong-kha-pa was a reincarnation of Jesus!

Sometimes, it's difficult to know whether an article is a piece of fiction or a supposed clairvoyant insight. Thus, Besant writes concerning Atlantis: "The last White Emperor was ruling, at the time of the story, in the old, old Capital City of the Golden Gate in Poseidonis; but some of the outlying nations were gradually banding themselves together under the mighty chieftain Oduarpa, to overthrowthe White Emperor and the traditional worship of the Sun. These kingdoms had become corrupt, wicked and selfish, and their priests served the Dark Gods of the Nether World. To bring about the downfall of the central empire and its ruler, Oduarpa saw that he must bring to his aid the forbidden powers of the darker magic, and to enlist in his rebellion the denizens of the Kingdom of Pan." Sounds like the prelude from a fantasy novel...

I also managed to find a couple of pieces that were self-ironic, presumably a rare trait in occult groups. One lecturer claims that his malfunctioning slide projector must be possessed by an evil spirit, while another says that he isn't coming back to North America in his next incarnation, due to all the blizzards!

Overall, "The American Theosophist" gives the impression of a movement that attempts to propagandize an esoteric message among the broad masses, for good or for worse. The whole thing feels very "astral", with spirits of the dead, demons and channelling. Occasionally, a more truly esoteric piece has been sneaked in. While I prefer Adyar to the group based at Point Loma, I must say that Adyar's gospel sounds like spirituality 101, combined with the absurdities typical of channelled messages.
Overall, I would probably make a bad Theosophist...

Saturday, August 25, 2018

A flag for idiots?




Another conlang & flag related review I posted on Amazon, before the powers-that-be purged me. Good luck selling the conlang flags now, brothers!

LOL. This is the flag (yes, the *flag*) of the constructed language of Ido, essentially a reformed version of Esperanto. One of the promoters of Ido, the French philosopher Louis Couturat, once complained to Bertrand Russell that while a supporter of Esperanto is called “Esperantist”, a supporter of Ido has no equivalent designation. Russell, tongue in cheek, proposed “Idiot”, but Couturat was not amused...

In contrast to Esperanto, which still has speakers and supporters world-wide, Ido never really got off the ground and is mostly a curiosity these days, although an organization to promote the lingo apparently still exists. I suppose the Idists (that's what they are called, pace Russell) use this peculiar banner if and when they gather at reunions...

Goethe binom ed obinom lemasel poeda deutik. You grok?



Volapük is one of the most entertaining relics of an age long gone - in this case, the late 19th century. Concieved in 1879 by German Catholic priest Johann Martin Schleyer, Volapük was intended to become an international auxillary language. Despite its complex grammar and peculiar vocabulary, Volapük experienced a meteoric rise during the 1880's, only to dash back into complete obscurity during the next decade, due to internal schisms and the rise of a more competent challenger, Esperanto. People started making jokes at Volapük's expense, such as this little limerick: "A charming young student of Grük / Once tried to acquire Volapük / But it sounded so bad /That her friends called her mad, /And she quit it in less than a wük." Indeed, in several European countries, Volapük is a synonym for "gibberish", including Russia. None other than Lenin uses the name of the unfortunate language in this sense when snubbing some political opponents in his classic "Left Wing Communism: An Infantile Disorder"!

And then there's the language itself... I can't say I actually read all of "Volapük: An Easy Method of Acquiring the Universal Language Constructed by Johann Martin Schleyer", but the world language is so beautifully weird that I'm frankly surprised that anyone ever took it seriously. Perhaps they didn't - perhaps people latched unto Volapük since it was the only game in town (universal language town, that is). This would explain the constant conflicts within the Volapükist movement, and it subsequent demise at the hands of Dr Zamenhof's Esperanto.

Most words in the Volapük vocabulary seem to be based on Germanic originals, but heavily garbled. Thus, hunter (jäger in German) becomes "yagel", kitchen becomes "kuk" (compare English cook or Swedish kök), knife is "neif" and dog, somewhat unimaginatively, is "dog" even in Volapük. The names of various countries are almost comically garbled, thus Russia becomes "Lusän", while "Flent" is France. "Jveiz" is Switzerland (Schweiz).

Unfortunately, new words are formed by endless lists of prefixes and suffixes - thus, we get "jimalädikel" (a sick woman), derived from "läd" (lady) but otherwise incomprehensible except maybe to Martians. Another example: "igödelo" means three mornings ago, "ägodelo" is yesterday morning while "ugodelö" means day after tomorrow morning. Logical, perhaps, but virtually impossible to memorize! Or how about the miniscule differences between "palöfob" (I am loved), "pälofob" (I was loved) and "peloföb" (I have been loved). Not a language for people with speech or hearing impediments, I'm afraid. Some words sound downright kookish, such as "zülsezül" (ninety-nine), "lapinanim" (predator) or "nolümelopik" (North American).

Yes, North American.

This little book is actually a workbook, so the budding Volapükist (who will undoubtedly end up a "jimalädikel" within "ugodelö") is expected to translate zany phrases like this one into Queen's English: "Kiöp lemon hatis e luhätis gudikün in zif isik?". Or how about this one: "Blod olik li-emilagom glügabumis lejönik in Flent, Deut i Lusän, ven ätävom us?". Here's an easy one, with Goethe making an unexpected guest appearence: "Goethe binom ed obinom lemasel poeda deutik". I haven't checked, but I think it means that Goethe is and will remain the grand master of German poets!

In a way, it's perhaps a pity that Johann Martin Schleyer is considered, not a grand master, but something of a petty jester. His project may have been stillborn, premature and even somewhat kookish, but without its unexpected success, who knows what would have become of more serious contenders to the role of "universal language" such as Esperanto or Interlingua?

Not sure how to rate this book in a "cult language" (in more ways than one!), but in the end, I give it three stars.

You grok?

Reimagining Volapük



A review of "Dictionary of the Neutral Language (Idiom Neutral)" 

Idiom Neutral is a conlang (constructed language) published in 1902. The “academy” behind the language consisted of disgruntled former supporters of Volapük, the peculiar “universal language” invented by Johann Martin Schleyer in 1879. While Volapük had an absolutely regular grammar, both the vocabulary and the rules for creating new words left much to be asked for. Here's a typical sentence in Volapük: “Blod olik li-emilagom glügabumis lejönik in Flent, Deut i Lusän, ven ätävom us?”. You grok? Schleyer was too proud of his brain-child to permit any changes, something that probably proved fatal to his “world speak” in the end.

Idiom Neutral was an attempt to reimagine Volapük on an entirely new basis, with a vocabulary more strictly based on the existing European languages, usually of the Romance language group. While still sounding somewhat artificial, Idiom Neutral is more immidiately comprehensible to educated Romance-speakers.
Here's a sample: “Pro to on donin al cite le nome Babel, pro quei ti le Domino ha konfuzigati le lingue del toti monde e de iti il ha dispersata le homes adsur le toti tere.” Yes, it's from the Biblical story about the confusion of languages at the Tower of Babel, something of a cult text among conlang enthusiasts.

This particular product is a Idiom Neutral-English dictionary, also available free on the web. Since “the Neutral Language” is stone dead, although a couple of nerds have attempted to revive it, the book is of historical interest only. Like most other attempts at creating an international auxillary language, Idiom Neutral was swiftly outflanked by Esperanto and the Esperantist movement.
And, I suppose, by English... :P

A serious conlang?



A review of the "Interlingua flag" at Amazon

This is the proposed but yet unofficial flag of Interlingua, a constructed language first made public in 1951. Intended to become an international auxillary language, Interlingua seems to be the most serious conlang project hitherto. The language was developed over an extended period by a team (the IALA), rather than being sucked out of the thumb by an individual genius (as is the case with virtually all other conlangs, most notably Esperanto and Volapük). The vocabulary of Interlingua is mostly based on the Romance languages. To all intents and purposes, Interlingua is really a modern form of Latin (the term "Interlingua" was originally used by a proposed reform version of Latin, Peano's Latino sine flexione).

Lacking the romantic appeal of Esperanto (or the sheer kookishness of Volapük), Interlingua never became a mass movement. However, it has been used in scientific publications as the language of resumés, and is still being promoted by small groups of enthusiasts regrouped in the Union Mondial por Interlingua.

In the Soviet bloc, Interlingua was considered "reactionary" and "colonialist", with the Soviets favouring Esperanto instead. Apparently, the Czechoslovak Interlinguist Julius Tomin was even persecuted for supporting Interlingua. My guess is that Alexander Gode, the foremost American promoter of Interlingua, was a right-wing anti-Communist. He once translated a book titled "The Case Against Bertolt Brecht" (!) and another celebrating the founder of Zionism, Theodor Herzl. It's interesting to note that the Interlingua flag seen on this product page has been proposed by a Czech, Karel Podrazil, and spouts the colours of the Czechoslovak (and Czech) flag...

Basically, it's the Bible



Fun! This is apparently the Bible in Basic English, C. K. Ogden's simplified version of English (with only 850 words), plus some additional 150 words for Biblical clarity. Can the entire Bible really be rendered with only 1000 words? No idea, but you are welcome to check it out, either free on the web or in this beautiful bound edition (which I haven't purchased)... Here is a sample: “From the first he was the Word and the Word was in relation with God and was God. This Word was from the first in relation with God. All things came into existence through him, and without him nothing was. What came into existence in him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light goes on shining in the dark; it is not overcome by the dark”. Not very poetic, perhaps, but I suppose it could be useful somewhere...

Insanity, thy name is Ro



A review of "Dictionary of Ro: The world language" by Edward P Foster 

Ro must be the most insane constructed language ever, well, constructed. Its constructor, Edward Powell Foster, supposedly enjoyed the support of Charles G Dawes, a future U.S. Vice President. If true, Dawes must have been a pretty excentric man, at least in private!

Ro is based on some kind of logical system, although I admit I don't get half of it. Apparently, all words denoting substances begin with a "b", all words dealing with property, possesion or theft begin with an "h", etc. You get the drift.

This, and perhaps some other principle I haven't grokked, gives us endless lists of near-identical pseudo-words such as this one: gobob (short), gocob (narrow), gocod (slender), gocok (scant), godob (small), gofob (light), gogob (oblique)...and so on. Or how about this one: babgab (hydrogen), babgak (copper), babgam (silver), babgas (gold)...

Here's a sentence in Ro: Ac weduvi ruf id ad uf ac edi ril av ac eli ril alit? (Would you have written to him if you had known what you know now?)

No, Mr Foster, I probably wouldn't. Insanity, thy name is Ro.

Friday, August 24, 2018

Bauer´s volapük



A review of "Spelin: A Universal Language" 

LOL. So this is "Spelin", a conlang (constructed language) proposed in 1889 by one Georg Bauer as an alternative to the goofy Volapük. Unfortunately, Bauer's pet project is just as weird as the gibberish it was supposed to replace! Here's a sample: "O dike zoe: ku i fako voe koin ep? Koe? i bayo pionoes. Nen, kiz i nen poti sopni us". You grok, Earthling? Essentially, Spelin was simply Bauer's version of Volapük. And sheer volapük, to boot.

Busted by the unions?




A review of "Qosmiani: A New International Language" 

This is not a "Thai edition", as wrongly stated on the product page. The book is in English. Parts of it are in Qosmiani, the "universal langage" constructed by the otherwise unknown author, Wilbur Massat Law Beatty. His book was published in 1922. It's virtually unreadable, due to its small print. It's clearly written on a typewriter! Beatty at one point blames the monopoly of union labour for his plight. Apparently, the unionized print shops demanded too much money from the struggling author. (I have another guess: the lone genius Beatty was a difficult guy, so the printers told him where he could put his typewriter.)

Apart from proposing a new language scheme, Beatty also wanted to form an organization in the form of a "quasi-national government" devoted to the international adoption of the metric system, Christian ethics, support for the League of Nations, prohibition of alcohol and tobbacco, and (surprise) struggle against Bolshevism and unionism. The platform of the Cosmic Republic (as it was called) is then rendered in Qosmiani.

Qosmiani itself is hardly an improvement over other universal language scheme, being essentially a garbled Romance language made more difficult to comprehend by unfamiliar affixes and suffixes. Of course, the success of a conlang is only partially due to its linguistic beauty (which may be subjective anyway): Schleyer's Volapük, which is far stranger, was more succesful for a decade than Qosmiani, which wasn't even properly published!

Otherwise, I noticed that Beatty uses simplifed English spelling ("wil", "shal", "thot", etc), while being fond of very exotic words, such as triskatdekaglot, hekkaidekaglot and eikosipentaglot.

Well, he was a lone genius, after all!

Birdlore




"Pure Saxon English or Americans to the Front" is a curious little book, authored by one Elias Molee. It was published in 1890. Molee wants the English language to rid itself of all foreign loanwords, including those from the Romance languages. This would make English more similar to ancient Saxon, and also to other Germanic languages, which are less influenced by French and Latin. He is very consistent at this point, even specialized scientific terms such as "ornithology" should be replaced by nativisms, in this case "birdlore".

In essence, Molee wants the United States to adopt a modified, modernized version of Saxon as its official language. Molee argues that such a Saxonized English would be more logical and easier to learn that the Norman-Latin version, and that it would facilitate unity among the Germanic nations (constantly referred to as "Gothic"). The author himself was apparently of Norwegian descent.

Pure Saxon English should be based on a phonetic spelling as well, making it somewhat difficult to render on my word processor. But OK, here's a brave attempt: "But when Herod was ded, behold, the ainjel ov the Lord ersheineth in a drim to Josef in Egipt, saiing, Areis and taik the yung cheild and his mother, and go intu the lahnd of Israel, for thai ahr ded hu siko the yung cheildo leif".

Molee's book probably wasn't as nuts when it was published as we may think today, since he mentions several attempts in different nations at spelling or grammar reforms, probably connected to the establishment of a public school system. He also mentions the success of Volapük, a "universal language" constructed by the German pastor Schleyer.

In the end, however, it wasn't very realistic to expect a radical change of the English language through some kind of central decree, and in the United States, to boot! Undeterred, Molee continued his efforts to create a pure "Gothic" tongue, his next attempt apparently being called Tutonish. Graciously, he also published a Romance version of Tutonish! Well, thank you.

Not sure how to rate this obscure product, but three stars seems enough.

Saturday, August 18, 2018

Ido-speakers won´t like this one




“Tincjo en Tibeto” is the Esperanto translation of “Tintin in Tibet”, one of the most beloved Tintin adventures. Esperanto is a would-be international auxiliary language constructed by Polish Jew Ludwig Zamenhof in 1887. Little is heard about the movement of Esperantists (as Esperanto-speakers are called) today, but during the 20th century this peculiar language was quite popular. My maternal grandfather was an Esperantist, as so was the husband of one of my aunts. Personally, I never took the step, but I did some reading on the language. In the West, Esperanto had a slightly counter-cultural reputation, being promoted by pretty much the same people who were into pacifism, vegetarianism and idealistic socialism. In the Soviet bloc, Esperanto had official support (except during Stalin's most “Great Russian” period) and was used to disseminate Communist peace propaganda. The peace angle still exists. Apparently, none other than the Dalai Lama has promoted the Esperanto translation of “Tintin in Tibet”.

While Esperanto became the most successful constructed language, it did have competitors. One was Volapük, another was Ido. While Volapük is effectively extinct, a small group of Ido-speakers still exist. And yes, there's a reason why I mention this seemingly irrelevant fact. More on that shortly.

I've never been particularly impressed by Esperanto. Its perfectly regular grammar and unusual word formation makes the language sound obviously artificial, despite the mostly Romance-derived vocabulary. This makes “Tincjo en Tibeto” entertaining, but largely for the wrong reasons. Even the screams of the Yeti have Esperanto spelling! Here's a sample of this supposedly international language: “Gi tre granda, Sahib, tre forta.
Gi frapmortigas gruntbovojn per pugno. Gi tre malbona! Mangas okulojn kaj manojn de homoj de gi mortigitaj”. You grok, or should I say grokojn? At least the Yeti a.k.a. Abominable Snowman has a more internationally savvy designation: “Jetio, la abomeninda nego-homo”.

Naturally, I wanted to know how Captain Haddock's colorful insults about blistering barnacles have been rendered in Esperanto. His favorite expletive seems to be “Mil milionoj da mil lukoj”, which I think means “billions by thousands of portholes”. Well, he is a retired captain, after all…

The most original of Haddock's curses, however, almost made me fell from my chair laughing. They are – wait for it – “volapukista” (Volapük-speaker) and “idista” (Ido-speaker)! As already noted, Volapük and Ido were two competitors to Esperanto in the hard-to-understand constructed language department. Bertrand Russell (who once, tongue in cheek, called Ido-speakers “idiots”) would have loved every minute of this...

“Tincjo en Tibeto” contains another Esperanto in-house joke, as well. In the original Franco-Belgian version, Haddock says at one point that he dreamt about Napoleon the other night, but in the Esperanto version, his dream was about Zamenhof instead, the man who constructed Esperanto!

Volapükists and Idists, beware of the Abominable Nego-Homo, you!

Five stars.

Kaj okazis



I didn't know that the Book of Mormon had been translated to the atheistic-Communistic conlang of Esperanto. But then, everyone has the right to hear the Gospel, yes? Or rather the “Alia Testamento de Jesuo Kristo”, published by La Eklezio de Jesuo Kristo de la Sanktuloj de la Lastaj Tagoj. This is for the really daring Elders, called to convert (or subvert) the local meeting of the anarcho-syndicalist Esperantist organization SAT, the last remaining CPUSA front group in Utah, or the most naïve Reform Temple in Boston.

As for myself, I simply wanted to know how “and it came to pass” is rendered in Esperanto. You guessed it, it's “kaj okazis”.

Here's a sample text: “Kaj okazis, ke, dum li pre'is al la Sinjoro, alvenis fajra kolono kaj staris sur roko anta' li; kaj li vidis kaj a'dis multon; kaj pro tio, kion li vidis kaj a'dis, li skui'is kaj tremegis. Kaj okazis, ke li reiris al sia domo en Jerusalemo; kaj li 'etis sin sur sian liton, senkonsciigita de la Spirito kaj tio, kion li vidis.”

My grandfather was an Esperantist, but personally I never bought the concept, although I occasionally peek into the conlang nerd milieu to see what's shakin' (and what's grokin'). That's how I found this, arguably the most curious translation of the Chronicles of Nephi presently around.

According to the other reviewer, this edition is actually a bad translation, perhaps Google-made. A different version, titled "La Libro de Mormono", is available on the web. There are indeed discrepancies between the two editions. My quote above is from the web-based version (sans the Esperanto spelling, which I can't reproduce).
Kaj okazis!

Virgulino




Esperanto is a constructed language, developed by Ludwig Zamenhof and first presented to the world in 1887. Due to its relative success, some serious works of literature has been translated to this somewhat peculiar language.

This seems to be the ultimate Esperanto Bible. It contains Zamenhof's translation of the Old Testament, the so-called “London Bible” translation of the New Testament, and Ferrit Berveling's translation of the Apocrypha. In a sense, then, even the translation is “ecumenical”. This work has been approved by the International League of Christian Esperantists (which describes itself as “mostly Protestant”) and the Catholic Esperantist Movement.

Unfortunately, I don't have easy access to this version at the present time, but the version freely available on the web seems traditional, for instance when referring to the young woman in Isaiah 7:14 as a “virgulino”, i.e. a virgin. This strikes me as strange, though, since Zamenhof was Jewish! Was his translation revised before publication by Christians?

I suspect there might be more to explore here than simply strange suffixes…

Friday, August 10, 2018

Esperanto and its challengers

Mass in Esperanto! Don´t tell Mel Gibson´s father... 


A review of "The Artificial Language Movement" 

Andrew Large has written an entire book about a rather obscure, yet highly entertaining subject: artificial languages. For centuries, enthusiasts have tried to create a new, universal language in the hope of facilitating international communication. The attempts have ranged from the serious to the frivolous, with most artificial languages being parked somewhere in-between. Most of the artificial languages have been quietly forgotten (who today remembers Novial, Neo, Basic English or Volapük?), but a few have managed to recruit followers, and one have become a world movement: Esperanto.

Some of the language projects mentioned by Large are so eccentric that they will strain your credulity to the breaking point. Shortly after the Napoleonic Wars, a certain Frenchman invented a language called Solresol. The language could be both written, spoken, sung, whistled, played on piano, or expressed with the help of seven signal flags in different colors! Unfortunately, it was extremely difficult to learn, since all words were based on the diatonic scale (Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol-La-Ti). Thus, doredo meant "time", doremi "day" and doresi "century". Incidentally, domisol meant "God" and solmido "the Devil". Naturally, such a crazy language became quite popular, at least in France, and had followers still during World War One, about a century after it was first invented!

Most of Large's book is devoted to Esperanto, created by the Polish Jew Ludwig Zamenhof in 1887. As already mentioned, Esperanto is the only artificial language with a degree of international success. (My maternal grandfather was an Esperantist, BTW). The most interesting chapter of the book deals with the political and religious connections of the early Esperantist movement. Zamenhof wanted to create a new religion, a kind of Reform Judaism, and use Esperanto to promote it. Meanwhile, many socialists and Communists joined the Esperantist movement, leading to splits between radicals and moderates in the movement. Unsurprisingly, Stalin prohibited Esperanto (so did Hitler), but it was revived in the Eastern bloc after his death, being used by the Communist regimes in their peace propaganda. A rather humorous chapter of the book is devoted to the British Esperantists, who turn out to be rather excentric. As Large sums up: "A fairly typical Esperantist, therefore might be a rather well-educated, unmarried, middle-aged, female teacher who votes Labour, does not believe in God, and never eats meat".

The book also contains a chapter on Esperanto grammar, and one dealing with the modern challengers to Esperanto, including Interlingua, a language actually used for resumes in scientific journals. Finally, Large asks what the prospects for an artificial, international language might be, and answers that they probably are quite bleak. In the real world, the "real" languages always dominate, and they are spread by powerful social forces: empire-building, science, even travel and commerce. The artificial languages, by contrast, lack power and will remain small, sectarian movements for the foreseeable future. Still, new attempts at creating the perfect universal language are being made every year, Glosa and Eurolengo being two examples mentioned by Large. (I happen to know of one not even mentioned in the book, a simplified form of Latin self-ironically christened SPL, the Latin abbreviation for "Without Legal Issue"!)

Finally, a word of warning. The first part of the book, dealing with pre-19th century philosophical languages, is quite boring, so a good tip is to read the introduction, and then go straight for Part II, the really interesting and entertaining part.

Saturday, July 28, 2018

How Stalin revised Marxism and almost got away with it



"Marxism and Problems of Linguistics" is a curious pamphlet, written by Joseph Stalin, otherwise better known as the head of party and government in the Soviet Union. It seems the old fox was a busy man. The articles included in this work were penned for Pravda in 1950.

According to Frederick Copleston's history of Russian philosophy, this pamphlet actually made it easier for Soviet philosophers to question Marxist dogma, although mostly after the author had been safely buried. Stalin attacks one N.Y. Marr, apparently some kind of Lysenko of Soviet linguistics, in favour of more mundane linguistics. For instance, Stalin points out that the theory of an Indo-European proto-language is probably true. (Thanks for noticing.) Stalin actually attacks stale "Marxist" dogma, pointing out that the Soviet party has revised Marx and Engels on a number of points, including the much-vaunted dying away of the state. If Marxism is ever-changing, perhaps it can change some more? Stalin also denies that the transition from quantity to quality has to be explosive. His (unconvincing) example is that the dramatic collectivization of the Russian peasantry was wholly peaceful. While this is, of course, a self-serving lie, it nevertheless has consequences for Marxist philosophy, which holds that societal changes are virtually always revolutionary in character, precisely because "quantity" changes to "quality". Here, Stalin has quietly revised Marxism on a very fundamental point. Earl Browder, anyone?

In the main piece, Stalin wrestles with the question of language. From a schematic-dogmatic Marxist standpoint, language is indeed a vexing question. Is language part of the superstructure? Or is it part of the base? After all, language changes less rapidly and less dramatically than society at large. The Russian language didn't change its basic structure after the October revolution. Indeed, it's similar to the Russian spoken by Pushkin, when Russia was still "feudal". He could also have mentioned the resuscitation of Hebrew in Israel, or the abject failures of artificially constructed languages such as Solresol and Volapük, as evidence of his thesis. (I suppose Stalin had some gaps in his linguistic expertise.)

Language, it seems, serves all classes of society and changes very slowly. What on earth to do with it? Stalin never reaches a clear conclusion. At times, he seems to be suggesting that language is somehow a part of the base, since no production is possible without a common language. In other sections, he seems to be arguing that language is a neutral, supra-class phenomenon standing outside the Marxist categories of base and superstructure altogether.

Of course, the real politics of Stalin's regime were rather different. Non-Russian languages had to abolish their Latin or Arabic scripts, instead adopting the Cyrillic alphabet. Some languages were artificially created and Russified (the "Moldavian" language comes to mind). Unless I'm mistaken, Yiddish was banned at some point by our author himself. And so on. In practice, Stalin did seem to regard language as part of the ideological superstructure!

Still, it's interesting to speculate about what political calculations were behind Stalin's intervention in the debate over linguistics. Perhaps his new theory was designed to promote social peace in a Soviet Union badly split between bureaucrats, workers and peasants? Hence, we get the curious spectacle of a Marxist promoting the idea that language is supra-class, that the class struggle doesn't disintegrate society, that there should be no further "explosions" in Soviet society, etc. The erring Marr (who was apparently already dead by the time this debate took place) seems to have been more "radical", and Old Joe actually compares him to Proletkult, a band of crackpot Bolsheviks who attempted to eradicate all old culture during War Communism. Lenin eventually put an end to their depredations.

To a causal reader, "Marxism and Problems of Linguistics" will be boring and meaningless. I read the work years ago, and assumed that linguistics was a kind of hobby in which Stalin indulged from time to time. Some dictators, after all, have intellectual hobbies. However, it seems that Uncle Joe had a political point with his crypto-revisionist musings. But then, he was the head of party and government of the Soviet Union, remember?