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  • The Diacritics 11:10 am on November 14, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: brad pitt, , german, inglourious basterds, , movies, tarantino, , west wing, world war II   

    Language in the movies 

    (Posted by John)

    Check out this clip of an interview with Quentin Tarantino and Brad Pitt.  They’re talking about Tarantino’s film, Inglourious Basterds.  If you don’t know, the movie is a World War II revenge fantasy in which a group of American soldiers, led by Brad Pitt, undertakes a plot to kill Hitler.  It’s a pretty fantastic movie, especially for the way it uses language as a tool. While most World War II movies avoid the language issues that might arise (everyone speaks English—their accent reveals where they’re actually from), Inglourious embraces language as a means both to drive the plot and to develop suspense. (watch from 12:06, where the clip starts, to about 13:45)

    In his movie, Tarantino’s talking about building suspense in particular in a couple of scenes. The first one is the opening scene of the movie, in which the movie’s Jewish heroine is hiding under the floorboards of a neighbor’s house in France.  An SS agent comes in search of Shoshana and her family.  He is able to draw out a confession from the homeowner without alerting the hidden family that he’s found them out. And he’s able to do it because he switches from French, which the Jewish family understands, to English, which they don’t. Here’s a clip from part of that scene, after Landa has switched to English.

    Here is the exchange that happens a bit later:

    SS Col. Hans Landa: You are sheltering enemies of the state, are you not?

    Perrier LaPadite[softly] Yes

    Col. Hans Landa: You’re sheltering them underneath your floorboards, aren’t you.

    Perrier LaPadite[tears forming in his eyes] Yes

    Col. Hans Landa: Point out to me the areas where they are hiding. [LaPadite points with his pipe; Landa walks over and stands on top of that area, gesturing with his own pipe for confirmation] Since I haven’t heard any disturbance, I assume that while they’re listening, they don’t speak English.

    Perrier LaPadite: Yes.

    Col. Hans Landa: I’m going to switch back to French now. I want you to follow my masquerade, is that clear?

    Perrier LaPadite: Yes

    Col. Hans Landa[in French] Monsieur LaPadite, I thank you for the milk and your hospitality. I do believe our business here is done. [walks over to the door and opens it] Ah, ladies. I thank you for your time. [booted Wehrmacht soldiers troop inside and position themselves] We shan’t be bothering your family any longer. So, Monsieur, Mademoiselle, I bid farewell to you and say: adieu!        [Soldiers open fire on the floorboards, killing the Dreyfuses]

    Another scene, probably the most suspenseful of the whole movie, is at a German bar behind enemy lines. A group of Allied soldiers are meeting an informant (Frau Hammersmark) there, but they’re interrupted by a nosy SS officer.  He becomes suspicious of the undercover Allies by detecting subtle differences between the accent that the British officer speaks German with. He doesn’t ultimately discover the man’s nationality, though, until the Brit asks for “three glasses” using the British/American hand signal for “three” (index, middle, ring fingers), instead of the German one (thumb, index, middle).

    (The most relevant parts are the first 3 minutes and  ~10:20-11:00. The whole scene is there though–it gets graphic at the end, so beware.)

    The idea of using linguistic data as a sort of defense goes back to biblical times and the story of the Shibboleth. One side in a war couldn’t pronounce the sh sound at the beginning of the word shibboleth, pronouncing it instead as sibboleth. This alerted the other side that they were dealing with their enemies.

    Gilead then cut Ephraim off from the fords of the Jordan, and whenever Ephraimite fugitives said, ‘Let me cross,’ the men of Gilead would ask, ‘Are you an Ephraimite?’ If he said, ‘No,’ they then said, ‘Very well, say “Shibboleth” (שבלת).’ If anyone said, “Sibboleth” (סבלת), because he could not pronounce it, then they would seize him and kill him by the fords of the Jordan. Forty-two thousand Ephraimites fell on this occasion.
    —Judges 12:5-6, NJB
    Of course, things like this are always easier to explain with a West Wing clip:
    Anyway, I think that Tarantino makes a good point–as he says, I don’t buy that Clint Eastwood speaks perfect German. Those differences in language should be exploited to make a better movie…though I hope our military isn’t taking any cues from Brad Pitt as Aldo, trying to speak Italian.
     
  • The Diacritics 8:51 am on November 8, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: aimer, , , , german, i love you, ich liebe dich, , je t'aime, love, lust, romance, wo ai ni   

    The language of love 

    (Posted by Sandeep)

    I love my parents, my brother and my friends. I love Duke and our basketball team. I love my law school, UCLA. I love walks along the Eno River in North Carolina at dawn. And I love the opportunities that my family and my education have afforded me.

    I used the same word—“love”—in all of those sentiments, but I didn’t mean the same thing. To be sure, love is a complex, multifaceted idea in any language. But the unique English colloquial use of the word spans many different meanings, from appreciation to liking to lust to romance. To non-native speakers, the protocols around its use are often perplexing. Hell, even for native English speakers, finding the appropriate moment to say “I love x” can be difficult.

    So let’s try to sort these out. Professing unconditional love to one’s family is common in Anglophone cultures. To tell your friends that you love them is fairly common, too. Saying you love abstract or inanimate things, like a university or a leisurely walk, is a common idiom in English, even though the feeling cannot be reciprocated. “Love” is also thrown around flippantly in situations where reciprocation is either unwanted, unspoken or unexpected. We have different situational terms to describe love, such as “platonic” or “unrequited.” “Love” can also be used as a euphemism for physical relations, from the phrase “making love” to the clever substitution of “love” for a certain four-letter word in clean versions of explicit songs.

    But in English-speaking romantic relationships, the moment when someone looks at his or her partner and says “I love you” is a watershed—a fantastically significant event after which everything supposedly changes. Commitment! Soul mates! Indeed, to say “I love you” requires the courageous expectation that the statement and sentiment will be reciprocated. As any soap opera viewer knows, the seconds after that first “I love you” can be agonizing: Will she or won’t she?

    But imagine for a moment that you’re having a whirlwind romance in Paris. You’re at your favorite café waiting for your date. You’re nervous—it’s only the second time you’ve met up—but after you share the obligatory bisous in greeting, you start to feel at ease. Then your date leans over the table, smiles and says, “Je t’aime.” Hold up. Did the L-word just get pulled out?

    Sort of. “Aimer” is used for both “like” and “love,” so its use isn’t surrounded by the sort of momentous protocol that the English verb is. “It is an important phrase for a relationship,” Duke University French lecturing fellow Christelle Gonthier told me, “but a couple can use ‘Je t’aime’ when they’re just starting to go out. In France, there’s not so much restraint as far as feelings go.” This was baffling to me, especially since the epic misplacement of the “I love you” moment is a running motif in American culture.

    Now close your eyes again and imagine that you’re on the hot streets of Bombay, holding hands with your significant other. It’s been a few months since you started dating, but you haven’t yet experienced the “I love you” turning point. Keep waiting, my friend—it’s not going to come.

    In Indian cultures, love can be expressed through actions, but it is almost never explicitly spoken. If it is expressed verbally, it will likely be in English. I didn’t even know how to say “I love you” in my first language, Kannada, until I looked it up online about two years ago. Most of my Hindi, Marathi and Bengali-speaking friends don’t know how to say the phrase, either. I have never felt unloved by my family—it’s just that the explicit articulation of that familial love isn’t part of our style. Sometimes silent demonstrations are more powerful.

    Other languages guard love, too. In Chinese, “wo ai ni” is a well-known phrase, but its use is rare. Germans save “Ich liebe dich” for exclusively romantic situations, preferring “Ich habe dich lieb” (roughly, “I like you”) for platonic relationships. To many cultures, love is an intensely personal and important emotion.

    It’s different here. Despite how puritanical America can often seem, our non-romantic use of the word “love” is laxly enforced. We’re no steamy Latin culture, but it’s heartening to note how freely we distribute “love.”

    To me, the permissive use of the word “love” in English doesn’t devalue the idea. It strengthens it through reinforcement. Even if we aren’t often open with our feelings, maybe the repeated and free use of the word “love” will eventually shift something in our collective consciousness. If the casual use of hateful speech can create pernicious environments, then why couldn’t the casual use of “love” do the opposite?

    After all, who ever said that putting more love into the world was a bad thing?

    A version of this post ran in The (Duke) Chronicle on 2/10/11.

     
  • The Diacritics 9:00 am on September 7, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , german, hawaii, idaho,   

    Hawaiian descriptivist dreams 

    (Don’t forget to subscribe to our posts by e-mail (on the top right) or subscribe to our RSS Feed!)

    posted by Sandeep

    Hawaii is generally pronounced by non-Hawaiian Americans as /həˈwaɪ.iː/ (huh-WHY-ee). Many Hawaiians and more adventurous mainlanders pronounce it  /həˈwaɪʔiː/ (huh-WHY ‘ ee), adding a glottal stop (the same sound as the hyphen in uh-oh) between the last two syllables. Pretty straightforward, right?

    A friend of mine had the following Facebook status up this weekend:

    Somebody please tell the ESPN play-by-play guy at the CU-Hawaii game that Hawaii is not pronounced “Hava-ee.” It’s not a German word.

    To be fair, I would be pretty annoyed if someone kept unnecessarily Deutsching a common term, too. But maybe the ESPN guy knew something my friend and I didn’t. So I did a little research.

    So apparently the ESPN guy was kind of right. Huh? According to Wikipedia, in the Hawaiian language, the state is actually sometimes pronounced with a /v/ sound, /haˈvaɪʔiː/.

    Okay, to be fair, plenty of languages conflate the two sounds /w/ and /v/ (like most Indian languages, which only have one character for both sounds), so maybe something like that is going on here.

    The first grammar of the Hawaiian language was written by a German missionary, Adelbert von Chamisso. The letter “w” in German represents the sound /v/. Hence, Hawaii would have been pronounced Havaii in German even though it was spelled with a “w.” And if German chose “w” to write the name of the language (“Hawaiische sprache”), maybe they were indeed faithfully documenting the native sound.

    But others disagree that the native pronounciation is /v/. The first English transliteration of “Hawaii” was apparently “Owhyhee” or “Owhyee.” (Remarkably, the latter is a spelling that is actually still preserved in a county in southwestern Idaho, named after three Hawaiians.) That suggests that the native pronunciation was /w/, not /v/, since English has both sounds “w” /w/ and “v” /v/ and chose to use “w.”

    But we can’t always take the British pronunciation at face value. They did, after all, mangle India’s “Mumbai” to “Bombay” and “Thiruvananthapuram” to “Trivandrum” (okay, I dont blame them for the second one).

    Transliterating between languages, especially when one of them isn’t a natively written language, is an inherently unstable activity. Awkward changes are bound to occur.

    Why must you tease us with your Vs and Ws, Germany? Why?!

    My suspicion is that the rogue /v/ pronunciation arose because some languages, like German, pronounce “w” as /v/. And because “Havaii” might sound more “exotic” than “Hawaii,” some people might have automatically assumed that the /v/ pronunciation was the indigenous one.

    Even if “Havaii” is the correct, indigenous pronunciation, we might as well discard it altogether because “Hawaii” is the predominant pronunciation out there in English.

    After all, the pronunciation of American place names has changed a lot over time anyway. Think about “New Mexico” — pronounced /ˈmɛksɨkoʊ/ “mek-si-ko” not the Spanish /mexiko/ “me-hi-ko.” Or Louisiana — /luːˌiːziˈænə/ “loo-easy-anna” not the French /lwizjan/ “lweezyan.” Or pretty much any place name derived from Native American languages. English is remarkably devastating in its alteration of other languages.

    And when a placename has been so totally assimilated into the language and culture, such as in the case of an American state, the popular pronunciation is the real pronunciation. This belief that popular usage and pronunciation is more important to teach and learn (in other words, bottom-up linguistics) than prescriptive usage (top-down linguistics) is called descriptivism.

    It’s unclear whether the ESPN guy was pronouncing “Hawaii” faithfully or not. In terms of descriptivist English pronunciation, he was wrong.

    Either way, I’m guessing Hawaii’s fans don’t care which way the ESPN dude pronounces it as long as they win.

    I think I need to do some more on-location research.

     
    • goofy 3:10 pm on September 9, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      I have done some on-location research (i.e. I’ve been to Hawaii on vacation) and a lot of Hawaiians do pronounce it with /v/. They also pronounce some place names, like Haleʻiwa, with /v/.

    • goofy 3:27 pm on September 9, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      I should add I’m not talking about native Hawaiian speakers. I never met any native Hawaiian speakers.

      • The Diacritics 11:49 pm on September 9, 2011 Permalink | Reply

        Interesting point! I wonder if there’s any effect of Tagalog, Japanese or Chinese (the three most-spoken minority languages in HI) on the pronunciation of place names. Japanese and Chinese have /w/, but I’m not sure about Tagalog. Maybe there’s something going on there. -Sandeep

    • Püppi 8:43 pm on September 10, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      Chamisso a missionary? He was a Romantic poet and translator of troubadours. He wrote the tale of Peter Schlemihl who sells his shadow to the devil. He was also a botanist, many plant species are named in his honor. He said of himself, “I am a Frenchman in Germany and a German in France, a Catholic among Protestants, a Protestant among Catholics, a Jacobine among aristocrats and a nobleman among democrats, a freethinker among the pious and a bigot among the prejudice-free… I belong nowhere, everywhere I am the stranger.” That might have made him a missionary everywhere he was or went, but certainly not in the sense you imply. He came to Hawai’i as a botanist and stayed for a month. The missionaries arrived later.

    • johnwcowan 10:20 pm on September 10, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      Okay, time for the classic.

      A young man is practicing to be a stand-up comic. Using his mother as a test subject, he tries out the following joke:

      Two Americans from the mainland are walking down a street in Honolulo, arguing about whether the name of the state is pronounced “Hawaii” or “Havaii”. One sees an obvious local coming the other way, and says “Let’s ask him. Excuse me, sir, is the state pronounced ‘Hawaii’ or ‘Havaii’?”

      “Havaii”, says the native.

      “Told you so,” says the American. “Thank you, sir.”

      “You’re velcome.”

      The young man’s mother is puzzled. “I don’t get it. Vot’s funny?”

    • komfo,amonan 5:44 pm on September 13, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      Wikipedia claims it’s a simple matter, claiming that in Hawaiian [v] and [w] are allophones, and continuing::

      [v] is also the norm after /i/ and /e/, whereas [w] is usual after /u/ and /o/. After /a/ and initially, however, [w] and [v] are in free variation.

      Citation given, in case anyone cares to verify.

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