Archive for the ‘language’ Category

making hypothetical statements in italian

Monday, March 7th, 2011

A hypothetical statement is one that is speculative. It speculates on the consequences of a hypothetical event. It states what would occur if something that hasn’t happened, were to happen.

Expressing hypotheticals in Italian (il periodo ipotetico) is somewhat tricky because it requires use of the subjunctive, a verb tense that takes getting used to. It is further complicated by making the chapter on this topic that you will find in textbooks overly long and confusing.

Here I will start with two solid reference points in English, so that you can see exactly what is going on. Then we’ll go through some examples to see what it looks like in real world use.

Could

The first case is the could scenario.

- You’ve never scored a penalty.
- Yeah, but I could do it.

- You don’t play the piano, do you?
- I could if I wanted to!

Got it? Okay, so we build our hypothetical from the could.  And the hypothetical describes what would happen if you did the thing that you “could do”. (Or, in general, what would happen if the thing that “could happen”, happened.)

- If I scored a penalty, I would celebrate.

- If I played the piano, I would play Beethoven all the time.

Here is what you need to know:

  1. The action is described using the imperfect subjunctive (il congiuntivo imperfetto).
  2. The consequence of the action is described using the conditional (il condizionale).

- Se segnassi un rigore, lo festeggerei.

- Se suonassi il pianoforte, suonerei sempre Beethoven.

Of course, you are not limited to talking about yourself.

- If it rained, they would not show up.
- Se piovesse, non si farebbero vivi.

Could have

The second scenario is all about could have.

- You lost the game!
- Yeah, but we could have won.

- Al Capone never jumped out of a window.
- Yeah, but he could have, he was that crazy.

Once again, the hypothetical starts from the thing that “could have happened”.

- If we had won the game, we would have been champions.

- If he had jumped out of a window, he would have terrified his underlings even more.

In this case the tenses are different:

  1. The action is described using the pluperfect subjunctive (il congiuntivo trapassato).
  2. The consequence of the action is described using the past conditional (il condizionale passato).

- Se avessimo vinto la partita, saremmo stati campioni.

- Se si fosse buttato dalla finestra, avrebbe fatto ancora più paura ai suoi subalterni.

A slight variation on this is used if the consequence is one that is still felt today, in which case you use the regular conditional:

- If he had jumped out of a window, he would be even more famous.
- Se si fosse buttato dalla finestra, sarebbe ancora più famoso.

Examples

If you’re not reading Leonardo then you really should, the guy is hilarious. In a recent entry he made a superb demonstration of the hypothetical.

I’ll just quote one sentence here, but read the whole thing so you understand what is being talked about. The short version is that Berlusconi is alleged to have employed underage prostitutes, one of whom was nicknamed Ruby. Hiring a prostitute in Italy does not constitute a crime, but if the person is underage then it obviously does. Leonardo here is satirizing the kind of statements made in support of Berlusconi by various figures who more or less owe their position to him. A classic case of scandal and farce in Italian politics.

Il sesso coi cyborg non è ancora regolamentato per legge, e quindi Berlusconi (che è impotente) (e se non fosse impotente sarebbe fidanzato) (e se avesse tradito la fidanzata con Ruby, comunque non l’avrebbe pagata) (e se l’avesse pagata, comunque sarebbe maggiorenne) non può essere punito per aver fatto sesso con un cyborg.

- e se non fosse impotente sarebbe fidanzato
- and if he weren’t impotent, he would have a girlfriend

- e se avesse tradito la fidanzata con Ruby, comunque non l’avrebbe pagata
- and if he had cheated on his girlfriend with Ruby, he still wouldn’t have paid her for it

- e se l’avesse pagata, comunque sarebbe maggiorenne
- and if he had paid her, she would be of age anyway

norwegian to dutch primer

Thursday, March 3rd, 2011

There are many interesting processes that work on languages which contribute to their change over time. Prepositions (or postpositions, in other languages) quite commonly become glued to the beginnings or ends of words (or even the beginnings or ends of roots in words). They go from being prepositions to being pre- and postfixes, and in many cases quite regular, thus prepare and prescribe (or indeed, prefix) have the same suffix pre in the sense of before/prior to. In some cases, they continue to exist both as prepositions and prefixes, in others they survive only as prefixes.

I will focus mostly on prepositions here, because they are quite instructive in mapping words from Norwegian to Dutch. They basically correspond to syllables, even if not all syllables here listed are prepositions.

It has to be said also that just because the same word exists in two languages (as described by these translations), it might not mean the same thing. I’ve tried as much as possible to use words that correspond both in composition and meaning.

Now, I’m quite sure that encyclopedias have been compiled of this information, but I find it more fun to notice things myself than reading the encyclopedia. The cases you will see here are by no means an exhaustive list, merely the ones I have noticed (and can recall). You will discover your own patterns (and that, in my view, is quite satisfying).

Syllable translations

av -> af/van

avfall -> afval {garbage}
avhenge av -> afhangen van {to depend on}

av -> uit

avsette -> uitzetten {to expel}
kle av -> uitkleden {to undress}

bi -> bij

bidrag -> bijdrage {contribution}
bistå -> bijstaan {to assist}

for -> ver

forgå -> vergaan {to perish}
forlate -> verlaten {to abandon}

for -> voor

forbi -> voorbij {elapsed}
forberede -> voorbereiden {to prepare}
forekomme -> voorkomen {to occur}

het -> heid

mulighet -> mogelijkheid {possibility}
nødvendighet -> noodzakelijkheid {necessity}

-ig -> -ijk

mulig -> mogelijk {possible}
nødvendig -> noodzakelijk {necessary}

opp -> op

oppstå -> opstaan {to rise}

på -> op

fallende -> opvallend {remarkable}
vente -> wachten op {to wait for}

til -> toe

tillate -> toelaten {to allow}
tilstand -> toestand {condition}

u -> on

umulig -> onmogelijk {impossible}
utrolig -> ongelooflijk {incredible}

ut -> uit

utebli -> uitblijven {to fail to appear}
uttrykk -> uitdrukking {expression}

Consonant changes

I think most of these are pretty obvious, because the sound you hear is very similar, so it’s more a spelling change than a sound change.

f -> v

falle -> vallen {to fall}
fare -> gevaar {danger}

k -> ch

makt -> macht {power}
vitenskap -> wetenschap {science}

kj -> k

kjenne -> kennen {to know}
kjøkken -> keuken {kitchen}

s -> z

svømme -> zwemmen {to swim}
synge -> zingen {to sing}
sønn -> zoon {son}

hv/v -> w

hvilken -> welk {which}
hva -> wat {what}
gevinst -> gewin {winning}
vinner -> winnaar {winner}

Vowel changes

The vowels are more substantial. Going from lyd to geluid is y to au in Norwegian phonology, which is pretty big. Dutch is packed to the brim with diphthongs (a single vowel that actually goes from one sound to another, like “au” or “ei”, typically spelled with two letters), so there is a huge amount of these that you have to learn to match with their spellings.

e -> ei

egenskap -> eigenschap  {property/attribute}
kreativitet -> creativiteit {creativity}

i -> ij

bli -> blijven {to remain}
fri -> vrij {free}
tid -> tijd {time}

o -> oe

million -> miljoen {million}

u -> ui

bruk -> gebruik {use}

y -> u

fylle -> vullen {to fill}
fyre av -> afvuren {to fire off}

y -> ui

lyd -> geluid {sound}
tydelig -> duidelijk {clear}

æ -> ee

ærbødig  -> eerbiedig {reverential}
ære -> eer {honor}
ærlig -> eerlijk {honest}

ø -> eu

seriøs -> serieus {serious}

ø -> oe

prøve -> proef {test}
søke -> zoeken {to search}
øve -> oefenen {to rehearse}

å -> aa

gå -> gaan {to go}
måltid -> maaltijd {meal}
slå -> slaan {to hit}

Decoding

So how does it work in practice? If you’re learning Dutch it won’t take very long before you see the common word onwaarschijnlijk. At first sight it’s a pretty scary word with crazy vowel combinations. But if you take the above list and work in the opposite direction you discover than you can split off on which is a negation. You now have something that begins with waar and since that is also a common word you probably already know that it means sann {true}. You also know that lijk is a common suffix that corresponds to lig (which is used in adjectives), so with the parts you have you can make usann-lig, which in all probability completes to usannsynlig {improbable, more literally: not-true-looks-like}. You check the context and confirm that it has to be an adjective, and that this meaning fits well.

As a matter of fact, this is exactly how I understood the word the first time I saw it. This is actually quite a good example, because it shows how you can do this with partial knowledge. There are two parts with perfect correspondence, on/u and lig/lijk. But waar is a different root from sann, and this I had to know about. I did not use schijn at all, because it didn’t look like anything I knew. But I now know that it would have been a blind alley, because synlig {visible} does not correspond to schijnlijk (which is not even a word). schijnen means to seem, which I didn’t know at the time.

A similar example is ongelooflijk = utrolig, where you need to know that geloof = tro {belief}, thus “unbelievable”.

Now, you might think that trying to painstakingly work this out on paper sounds about as appealing as cleaning a warehouse with a toothbrush. But, of course, the point is that your brain does this to a great extent unconsciously. Sometimes you think you understand a word and you can’t even figure out why, it must somehow have found an association that you’re not conscious of.

the Colin Powell trap of language learning

Wednesday, January 26th, 2011

colin_powell_speaks_wellChris Rock did a really solid bit a few years ago:

“Colin Powell can never be president. You know why? Whenever Colin Powell is on the news, white people give him the same compliments: ‘How do you feel about Colin Powell?’, ‘He speaks so well! He’s so well spoken. I mean he really speaks so well!’ Like that’s a compliment. ‘He speaks so well’ is not a compliment, okay? ‘He speaks so well’ is some shit you say about retarded people that can talk.”

Here’s the bad news. You are probably Colin Powell.

Here’s what you might have been thinking. In fact, almost certainly what you were thinking. You were thinking that here I’m going to study this language, learn to pronounce it right, learn to write grammatically, learn to use the correct expressions and after all that is done I’m going to be competent in the language. I’m going to go up to a group of these people and join in, like I’m one of them.

Unless you’re some kind of extreme scholar whose only interest is ancient scrolls or something, you are learning the language to have the social benefits. To interact with those people, to have access to those new social groups. You might be thinking sure they will be able to tell that I’m not one of them; my pronunciation won’t be exactly right; my use of the language won’t be perfect. But it’ll be close enough, and with enough practice I can get really smooth.

But that’s where you might be in for a nasty surprise.

And no one told you about this. No one told you that it’s not conquering the grammar that’s really tough, it’s not teaching your mouth to make those new sounds, it’s something different.

It’s that you’re Colin Powell.

You will stand out in a crowd and people can tell. They will give you compliments on how good your language is. They do this because they know you need the encouragement. No one gets told that their language ability is good when it’s actually good, that would be absurd. When it’s obvious, there’s no reason to say that.

It’s common for people who have some kind of disability to say that they just want to be treated like everyone else. And therein lies the crux of the matter.

You’re not “like everyone else” and everyone else knows that. So you get treated differently, good different or bad different, but always different.

Either people are trying to be helpful and treat you as if you understand less than you do. And over explain things to you. In which case you want to tell them “look, I understand more than that, give me some credit.”

Or you get bad different. You approach someone with a carefully constructed message that you know for a fact is completely correct, yet you don’t get the response that you expect. You get a short, dismissive response. You get treated almost as if you had said something slightly insulting.

It’s that… what you said was understood and you basically made your point clearly, and yet… you don’t sound authentic. There is something odd about you, reading between the lines, that makes people second guess themselves. As if you’re speaking lines from memory that don’t entirely fit the context. As if they’re not sure if you know what you’re saying. As if they don’t quite know how to respond to you, how to interact with you. In short, you are an aberration, an exception to the rule.

And when people are unsure how to respond, they tend to seem a little cold and a little dismissive.

Is there any good news? Colin Powell really never did become president, but you’re better off.

You can get beyond this. It’s hard to say how long it will take, but if you stick with it there will come a time when your grasp on the language is smooth enough that you do sound like the real thing. Sure, you might still have an accent. And you might still be making mistakes. But your performance will be smooth enough to convince. Convince that you know what you’re saying, and that he who is responding to you will be understood, that you can communicate as equals. What is the quickest way from here to there?

I wish I knew that.

what is comprehension really?

Saturday, December 11th, 2010

When we’re talking about learning a language we seem to present an idealized picture of both what the language is like and what our learning is like. We imagine a script, which is written on paper, and which is recited with clear enunciation and proper pacing by a voice actor on our language tapes. This creates the impression that these two things are somehow equivalent, that the written text and the spoken message are two encodings that have the same content. This is the ideal case.

But as we all know, language is not ideal. There is a reason we have expressions like “what did you say” that we use with people who speak our own language perfectly well. Our communication is lossy, ie. the sum total of what is received is less than what was transmitted. To make up the difference we have to reconstruct the message, and our reconstruction may not be accurate. Comprehension is the ability to reconstruct successfully, most of the time.

In order to belabor this point a bit, let’s use an example message from an article:

Liu, he said to sustained clapping, “has exercised his civil rights. He has done nothing wrong. He must be released.”

This is the ideal message, the message that was intended for you. If you speak English then this is perfectly clear to you. But when it becomes degraded in communication, what degree of error can you cope with?

What if the writer had excluded the commas?

Liu he said to sustained clapping “has exercised his civil rights. He has done nothing wrong. He must be released.”

What if there were no quote marks?

Liu he said to sustained clapping has exercised his civil rights. He has done nothing wrong. He must be released.

No periods?

Liu he said to sustained clapping has exercised his civil rights He has done nothing wrong He must be released

No capitalization?

liu he said to sustained clapping has exercised his civil rights he has done nothing wrong he must be released

No spaces?

liuhesaidtosustainedclappinghasexercisedhiscivilrightshehasdo- nenothingwronghemustbereleased

Now, think about it. When you hear speech in a language that you don’t understand, does it have punctuation in it, does it even have spaces? I would suggest that speech is actually much more similar to the last version than to the first one. Sure, there is vocal “punctuation” in the audio, with things like tone of voice and pacing, but it’s not as standardized and clear as punctuation in writing. Names are not capitalized. There are no parentheses. There are no quote marks (only the bandwidth heavy “and I quote”/”end of quote”, which gets quite tiring to hear if there are many quotes).

And the above example only demonstrates information loss, it doesn’t even begin to address errors introduced by a faulty communication (mispronounced words, words spoken with the emphasis in the wrong place, spoken with a foreign accent etc.), yet that too your brain must be prepared to deal with.

Spoken language is never like the original message. Some time ago, a friend recommended a book to me. A book that is available on the author’s website, but which for some reason doesn’t have any punctuation (I don’t know if this is just the online version or the print version too, but that would surprise me). The only thing capitalized are names. I first tried to read this a few months ago, but I found it too tough. I came back to it recently and this time I made more progress. That’s when it dawned on me how well this illustrates how we idealize and underestimate language.

In reading this book the brain is forced to attempt something similar to what I try to do here with a little syntax highlighting:

noi abbiamo le pive nel sacco Malva è sconvolta ma Cocco non molla entriamo e la facciamo lo stesso in quanti siamo dice dobbiamo farla lo stesso tanto ormai non abbiamo più niente da perdere grida e cosi convinciamo gli altri a fare lo stesso l’assemblea entriamo tutti insieme e ci mettiamo in un’aula vuota del pianterreno è un minuto che siamo dentro e non abbiamo ancora cominciato a dire una parola che arriva Mastino sbraitando cosa fate qui tu tu e tu siete tutti quanti sospesi passate in presidenza uno alla volta e esce lasciando la porta aperta Scilla dà un calcio alla porta e poi la barrica ci spingiamo davanti due banchi restiamo un momento in silenzio dobbiamo fare qualcosa ci guardiamo negli occhi ma non sappiamo cosa fare ci sentiamo in trappola

Noi abbiamo le pive nel sacco. Malva è sconvolta, ma Cocco non molla. “Entriamo e la facciamo lo stesso in quanti siamo”, dice. “Dobbiamo farla lo stesso, tanto ormai non abbiamo più niente da perdere”, grida. E così convinciamo gli altri a fare lo stesso. L‘assemblea entriamo tutti insieme e ci mettiamo in un’aula vuota del pianterreno. È un minuto che siamo dentro e non abbiamo ancora cominciato a dire una parola che arriva Mastino sbraitando cosa fate qui tu, tu e tu? Siete tutti quanti sospesi. Passate in presidenza uno alla volta”. E esce lasciando la porta aperta. Scilla dà un calcio alla porta e poi la barrica. Ci spingiamo davanti due banchi. Restiamo un momento in silenzio. Dobbiamo fare qualcosa. Ci guardiamo negli occhi, ma non sappiamo cosa fare. Ci sentiamo in trappola.

Is that the canonical version? No, it’s not. It’s my best attempt at reconstruction. I’m not certain that this is correct, I’m not even certain that the version on the website matches the printed version (there seem to be quite a few typos). But ultimately, there is no final answer, all language comprehension is heuristical and hypothesis based.

I timebox and so can you

Tuesday, August 10th, 2010

Axiom: SRS is by far the most effective vocabulary learning method I’ve ever seen.

Corollary: There is no way I could have learned nearly as much vocabulary with my usual laid back attitude.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy spending most of my life propping up the idea that “if a word wants me bad enough it will find a way to attach itself”. It’s modest reward for scarce effort and I like it that way. There is so much more worth doing in life than learning lots of words. But there are times when a quick uptake of vocabulary is pretty crucial, namely in the opening stages of a new language. It’s when you put in a lot of effort and consequently, where seeing results matters a whole lot. But it matters not only for motivation. It also greatly impacts the quality of your early learning process if you can absorb the core vocabulary quickly.

I found this out last year when I was starting on Italian and I realized I had learned lots of not-all-that-interesting-but-important words that would have taken me several times longer without SRS. To my good fortune, I knew about Anki and I had read enough plaudits to try it.

Still, there is a problem. Anki may be effective, but I wouldn’t call it fun. In fact, it’s awfully tedious. So much so that even though I appreciate how helpful it is, most days I just can’t persuade myself to click the icon that launches it. I get little thrill from returning to the same words that I saw yesterday and couldn’t remember then. Plus the interaction itself is highly tedious; clicking those buttons like it’s some kind of psychological survey, trying each time to pick the most appropriate choice.

Making it more fun

Alright, how? Khatzumoto writes about timeboxing and SRS tirelessly, and after reading through most of that I was ready to try it out. The idea is to go from “man this is boring, how much longer?” to “I only have 5 minutes, how much can I get done?” and it sounds like it’s never going to work. And yet.. okay, have you ever stayed at a nice place on vacation for just a bit too long, so much so you get bored? The idea is to leave wanting more, it’s basic showmanship. Timeboxing, believe it or not, adds that element of urgency to the mix. You give yourself 5 minutes for Anki and that means you only have 5 minutes, however many decks you have.

Yeah, it’s weird. But here’s what it looks like to me. Before timeboxing I would start up Anki, gaze at all the decks I have and all the cards that are up for review and sigh. “What a pain it’s gonna be to review all that.” Now, all of a sudden, I have a different reaction. “Alright, I have all these decks, which one do I most want?” Then I start on one and keep going for a while, but not for too long since I also want to cover other ground. The 5 minutes is almost up and I still want to get more done so it ends up being 7 minutes. 7 minutes,  which prior to timeboxing, seemed like a century of Anki.

Decks – how to plan them out?

You could just put everything in one giant deck, but I don’t like that idea. I did that at first and I found out that I like to have some notion of the context where the information was from. Is it from a textbook, a vocabulary list on a particular topic, from reading or watching stuff (ie. passive learning) or what? That gives me a choice; I can pay close attention to some vocabulary set that’s important right now. And if a particular deck is just annoying me I can remove it completely.

It’s also a way to manage my morale. If I review lots of cards from a tough deck and I can’t remember anything (ie. the thing that makes me unhappy), I can counter that with an easy deck where I win easy points.

timebox_anki_decks