Friday, September 20, 2013

Argument as Dance

Now, I don't believe in the strong version of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, that language dictates thought. I do think, however, that language affects thought, like rocks in a river.  In "Metaphors We Live By", a traditional English cognitive metaphor is exhibited: "Argument is war.  This metaphor is reflected in our everyday language by a wide variety of expressions:

Argument is war

  • Your claims are indefensible
  • He attacked every weak point in my argument.
  • His criticisms were right on target.
  • I demolished his argument.
  • I've never won an argument with him.
  • You disagree?  Okay, shoot!
  • If you use strategy, he'll wipe you out.
  • He shot down all of my arguments.
It is important to see that we don't just talk about arguments in terms of war.  We can actually win or lose arguments.  We see the person we are arguing with as an opponent.  We attack his position and we defend our own.  We gain and lose ground.  We plan and use strategies.  If we find a position indefensible, we can abandon it and take a new line of attack.  Many of the things we do in arguing are partially structured by the concept of war.  Though there is no physical battle, there is a verbal battle, and the structure of an argument – attack, defense, counterattack, etc. – reflects this.  It is in this sense that the argument is war metaphor is one that we live by in this culture; it structures the actions we perform in arguing.

Try to imagine a culture where arguments are not viewed in terms of war, where no one wins or loses, where this is no sense of attacking or defending, gaining or losing ground.  Imagine a culture where an argument is viewed as a dance, the participants are seen as performers, and the goal is to perform in a balanced and aesthetically pleasing way.  In such a culture, people would view arguments differently, experience them differently, carry them out differently, and talk about them differently.  But we would probably not view them as arguing at all: they would be simply be doing something different.  It would seem strange even to call what they are doing 'arguing.'" (p.4-5)

I have decided to take Lakoff and Johnson at their word: "to dance" will be the verb for "to argue" in Weddish.
  • Yiddish: טאַנצן
  • German: tanzen
  • English: to dance
  • Basque: dantzan
  • Biblical Hebrew: חוּל
As I am attempting to be more Germanic, the Hebrew looses out here.  tænts it is.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Grammatical Persons

My current project is called 'Weddish', a conservative Judeo-Christian marriage auxlang.  I'm having a lot of fun designing a grammar that combines Yiddish, Hebrew, English, and then whatever I want!  The first part I want to share with you is the internal debate I had about grammatical person.

At first, I wasn't going to do anything special besides having singular, plural, and dual number.  (Dual would make couples stand out by having their own verb conjugation and pronouns.)  that lasted about five minutes.  On the first day of class, however, my professor went on and on about how "the two shall become one flesh" and how he could no longer think of himself as a (lone) individual, that being married for 40 years had changed his identity.

"Not only are your bank accounts merged, but your outlook on life becomes 'we' not 'I'" Under the Canopy, David & Esther Gross, p.17

So then I thought, This will be a language only spoken between husband and wife, so there will be no first or second person singular -- on the verb or in pronouns of the core cases.  And I went with that up until about an hour ago.  But a language will not live and grow with such severe limitations.  So now I have a new idea.

What if there were a full system of first, second, and third person, and a full set of numbers -- singular, dual, and plural, but one has to refer to oneself and address other people with the singular for the unmarked and the dual for the married.  Like my second idea, married people can still refer to themselves singularly in cases other than the ergative and absolutive.  But as in Israel today, which has gendered forms of the second person, it would be hard to answer the phone politely in Weddish, because you don't know the marital status of unfamiliar callers.