The Making of Languages, Part 2: Phonology

Languages are made up of two things: the usage of words, and the construction of words. The usage of words is a very complicated little beast, and I covered it very lightly in the introduction of this "series", found here.

The more overlooked of these two concepts is decidedly the second. The construction of words is not a very intriguing question. Either that, or you consider it hard and have no idea how to begin. So, let us first consult English - it is the one ground that I am positive you have some familiarity with, and familiar ground is essential for understanding these concepts.

English's syllable structure is more or less C(C)(C)V(V)(C)(C)(C) ("C" stands for Consonant, "V" stands for Vowel, here). Strengths is an excellent example - it has three separate consonants (S, then T, then R) then a vowel, (e), then three more consonants (NG, then TH, then S). Truant shows how English can have more than one vowel in a syllable, as well. In this, English is either the flat-out Most Complicated Syllable award-winner, or very nearly so. On the other side of the spectrum, there are some languages whose syllable structures are literally (C)V (the Meso-american Nahuatl, for instance). Considering syllable-structure, even for a brief moment, can help flesh out the language. Some languages, I should also note, only allow specific sounds in slots - Japanese features the (C)(y,w)V structure, if I recall correctly. Go nuts with this! A particularly notable syllable structure will mean that the language always has a slightly alien feel, because the sounds it allows aren't allowed by English. For instance, the name "Ndraan" has an odd feel because "N"s aren't allowed there for most languages (the exceptions I know of being exclusively African, in this case).

English's sound-set (aka, its "phonology") features a large number of sounds of very differing Places and Manners. "T" features the same Manner as "K", merely a different Place. "R" features the same place as "T", merely in a different Manner. This is one place where the International Phonetic Alphabet is invaluable in creating a language. A good language's phonology will only have sounds which are similar (in whatever possible way) to at least two other sounds, preferably more. If a language has the sounds M,N,P,B,T,D,F,V,θ, and ð, (those last two being the two different forms of the English "TH") it will simply Not Have the French "R" (IPA ʀ) - there is no sound it shares either Place with or Manner with. It could be a more normal Trilled R (IPA r), since there are multiple other consonants in that same Place. Alternatively it could be another "stop" (like the P, T, and K, and their voiced compatriots), the Arabic Q (IPA q). But if it is "floating" off to the side of the chart with no relation to any other sound, then the sound has no reason for being that far out of the way - it could easily be crammed in with the rest of the consonants with plenty of distinction. Consonants are only happy when they need to be fairly exact. Vowels are slightly different, in that there are three levels of difference (forwardness, closedness, and roundedness), and they want to be spread out over the entire range (if still more or less relatable to the other vowels, and even if the front vowels tend to be unrounded and the back ones rounded). Play with the relative numbers of these, too. Some languages have stupid numbers of vowels and very few consonants. Some of them have only two vowels and 40-odd consonants. Some (like English) are fairly high in both counts. A few (Hawai'ian, notably) are very low in both counts.

Phonologies are weird little things. The sheer number of different sounds the human mouth can make is astounding, and almost every single one has been used in some language, somewhere. This is an excellent place to go a little bit crazy, and is probably one of the most accessible parts of properly Scientific Linguistics. Wikipedia can give a very good idea of what a given sound sounds like, and how to make it, and how often it is found in languages. Armed with this alone, you can do all sorts of cool things. Phonologies form the core of every single language, no matter how well-planned or detailed they may be. Without a well-planned phonology, a language will be left feeling lacking. But, armed with a phonology, even a simple naming language can shine.

gʊd lʌk, fɹεndz, and nεvεɹ stɔp ləɹnɪŋ!
Oh, sorry - IPA went into overdrive. *headdesk*
Good luck, friends, and never stop learning!
~Theoden


Terminology:
"Place" is more commonly called "Place of Articulation" with consonants - these can range from "bilabial" (two-lipped, i.e., lip-only), all the way to "glottal" (English's "H" is a Glottal Fricative, for example).
"Manner" is more commonly called "Manner of Articulation", which can range from Nasal (think M, N, and NG), through the Stops or Plosives (T, K, and the elusive Glottal Stop), and into the Trills and Approximants, and not least, the Laterals (like L, and the Welsh "LL"). On top of that, there is also the distinction of "Voicing", which is the difference between P, and B; T, and D; TH, and, well... TH (though that second one is sometimes written as "DH" in low-level phonologic texts (or at least, those which do not use IPA). Tolkien did it like that, in his appendices to the Lord of the Rings).

This is the land of weird terminology, though, and I'm sure I'm missing something important - so post questions in the comments below! Questions mean learning, and if I'm managing to teach someone here, I'll be happy. :⟩

Of Worlds and Stories

What makes a story world worth it?

Many fictional stories have a world that is not ours. It may be called ‘earth’, belong to a star, &c., but it is not Earth. It might have dragons and fairies and unicorns (if I’m the first to tell you, I must grievously inform you that unicorns are but the figment of your imagination in this world), or perhaps spaceships and rockets and lasers and aliens. Fantasy and sci-fi bring out the dreamer in us – ‘what could other planets be like?’ However, sometimes that world just doesn't look different. Sure it’s got elves and magic, but why are they from a peninsula that looks suspiciously like Florida? Sure it’s got spaceships and rockets, but why does the moon landing team have the same speech as Neil Armstrong? An alternate world needs to feel real, and that means it needs to be different. Does your world feel flat? (Because really it should be round, but that’s beside the point) Do your character cross a river getting to the villain’s hideout and then go back the same way and ‘poof!’ there’s no river? Then what you need, what your story needs, is a world.

Worldbuilding (as it is called) can be as simple or as complex as the author wants it. You don’t need five thousand years of history prior to your novel, you don’t need to know the orbital route of your earth, you don’t need to understand the exact number of miles between your planet and its white dwarf star, or if it can even orbit a dwarf star at all! You don’t need any of those things. And yet, the stories feel complete with them. I can tell when a story’s world is well developed. The story doesn’t start with the novel; it simply begins where it begins, whether or not that’s when the story itself starts. The events in the novel might be caused by something that happened centuries ago (Lord of the Rings, anyone?) Your world needs to be real, and different. Everyone builds their world differently, so I won’t suggest how to do it, but everyone likes pointers (unless you don’t, in which case everyone but you does). So here’s what to build:

• ·         A map – every world should have a map, even if you never let anyone see it because it’s horrible. Even using Paint to give yourself a general idea of what goes where is better than nothing. Not only does a map keep you from losing your rivers and forests, but it also helps determine directions to the cities your hero might travel to. It can give you a mental picture of what goes where, and why. The shape of a country can give you enormous amounts of backstory: why is it so small? So large? And of course, knowing your world has more than just one or two countries makes it feel complete to you, as the author. You don’t need to plot out latitude and longitude and find the equator and all that unless you really want to. Chances are no one’s going to see these, unless you’re really good at drawing. The map is for you, the writer.
• ·         History – I’ve heard from writers who have planned the history of their world for five thousand years, with complex timelines to prove it. I've done it myself, in fact. As cool as that is, you don’t need five thousand years. It’s cool, but you don’t need it. Ask yourself ‘what happens before my novel?’ ‘What’s important?’ ‘What historical figures and wars and achievements affect my story?’ Plot them out. Give your story a simple timeline. Also, what kind of dating method is used? B.C. and A.D. are rather limited to our world. Some cataclysmic? Perhaps the conquering of a nation? Simple things, even without a dating system, can give your world depth.
• ·         Politics, Government, and laws – sound boring? For some people it might be. But we’re talking any amount of complexity. How many people write about the king’s daughter? Son? How many of those stories are flat, because there’s no interesting politics? How similar are all those governments? The laws? Give yourself and your world the permission to dabble in the boring, and it will make other things exciting.

            First, politics:

o   Who has power where? Which countries hate the hero’s native home? What undercurrents might affect your hero? Rebellions? Past offenses creating tension? Are assassins a threat?

Next, government:

o   Is it a monarchy? Oligarchy? Democracy? Tyrannical and hostile? Who’s who? What customs govern the succession of the throne? Do the people hate the government, or are they content?

And lastly, laws:

o   Are there strange laws? Are customs so strong they are enforced as law? Are they just? Cruel?

• ·         Religion – religion is everywhere, it makes up everything we do and say. Even atheists have religion – atheism. It’s their worldview, how they see the world and make decisions.  Your world will seem authentic if the people have something to believe. What kind of God(s) do they believe in? What sort of myths and legends do they tell around the campfire?
• ·         Culture/Societal norms – Every country has its own unique culture and society.  What makes yours so special? Every medieval world has a market with merchants and fishmongers and shops. What makes your world different? Is it a matriarchal or patriarchal society? Are certain types of people outcast? Are other elevated? What different classes and castes separate the people? Every sci-fi world has huge buildings and aliens and spaceships. What makes your world so special I want to read about it? Are certain species despised? Do people live in fear of the government or do they praise it? What about family? Are they closely knit, with dozens of extended relatives? Or perhaps they parents ship their children off to school so they can have easier lives? How does society function? What sort of moral and ethical codes do the people follow? Why?
• ·         Races/nationalities – this might seem a ridiculous one, but so many people have different races: elves, dwarves/dwarfs, dragons, fairies, etc. What makes your race unique? Everyone does dragons, why should I be more interested in your particular kind? Why are your elves so special? Or, if you’re the kind of person who makes your own race that’s not any of the usual, what makes them intriguing? How are they different from humans? How does this affect them? Are other races honored or discriminated against?

          And what about nationalities? Obviously, some people have darker skin, and some lighter. What does           this mean to them? How does it affect their social status?  Where do they come from?

• ·         Technology/Magic – Some worlds have magic, and some have technology. What kind is it? If you have a sci-fi world, what sort of technology do they have? Nuclear? Or perhaps they've gone all clean energy like solar or wind power? Or is it more steampunk, with steam and gauges and pistons? What sort of weapons does this create? Missiles, lasers, flak, full auto with tracking? Do some research.

         As for magic, what sort of magic is it? Who can wield it? Does it come at a cost? Are people born               with it, or is it teachable? Is it elemental (fire, earth, water, etc.), potion-based (elixirs, vials of liquid,             etc.), or something else? Are there ‘relics’ with power or can only people hold magic? What rules                 govern this magic?

It might seem like a lot, and it is. There’s a lot of stuff that goes into a world, and what I've suggested doesn't even scratch the surface – language, flora and fauna, number of moons and their affect, clothing, law enforcement, social relations, cities and towns, geography, architectural styles, natural resources, food, occupations, health, and more. However, if you spend a few minutes on those things I suggested, even just twenty minutes, your world will come alive. Apply them to your novel(s), and it will feel like you’re giving us a taste of what it’s like to live in your world.

~Shilim

The Little People

Powerful stories are not just made of the known, but also of the unknown.

In the West, elves, fairies (or faëries), gnomes, goblins, trolls, leprechauns, and other such creatures are relatively common icons of folklore. Some people adore anything about them, others fear them, while many others are indifferent to the idea.

The Little People, as they may be called, are an example of controversial legend that gets told so many times that anything about them becomes so ridiculous no one wants to hear anything about them told in a serious manner. The people who believe that they exist, and maybe even fear them, are viewed by most people as superstitious, if not also loony.

By the Celts, however, the Little People have been feared for countless years. The power of this idea in the Celtic mind is undermined nowadays, both by skepticism and by watering down the original understanding of the Little People. When someone brings up a fairy, what is your first thought: a little girl with wings and a magic wand, or a strange, little, mischievous creature that intends to do you harm if you mess with it?

If you talk to someone who really believes in the Little People with the original understanding of what they are, you will hear strange or fearful tales instead of stories about tooth fairy-like things hiding under rose bushes. In the Celtic mind, fairies are associated with fear; they are other-worldly, magical, and powerful enough to kill someone not cautious enough to care. In other words, they are not to be duplicated as children’s toys.

I am not intending to imply that fairies are reality. Instead, I am trying to draw attention to the fear of the Little People that is very real in some people’s minds. Years ago, before alien abductions were popular sci-fi topics, the great fear among the Celts was changelings – human children were abducted by some kind of Little Creature, and a similar-looking Little Creature was placed in the human child’s stead. While that may sound ludicrous, it really lies on the same level as alien abductions.

We can let our imaginations go wild, can’t we? Human beings fear the unknown, while at the same time, many people in the world place their trust in the supernatural – one of the greatest unknowns, our understanding of which being based on faith more than experience. People can have such trust in the involvement of the supernatural realm with the natural that when misunderstood natural phenomena occur, some people may, in their minds, associate the experience with the supernatural, whether such association is legitimate or not. Even those who are not so supernaturally-minded, human beings fear what is unknown, what is unexplainable, what is contrary to immediately observable occurrences. The things we cannot know and understand, we cannot control. We may be subject to the very things we cannot control, and that is certainly a frightening thought. (http://www.springhole.net/writing/mythbasis.htm)

Yet, it is the fear of the unknown that drives so much of a story. People constantly want to know more and the exploration of the feared often gives people a thrill. This thrill can be unhealthy if not kept in check, but think about how much of one’s life is devoted to discovering what has not yet been discovered.

In not knowing the future, a person constantly asks, “What if?” A story may begin with a “what if” and offer possible consequences, but then the story may give consequences beyond any expectation the audience could have imagined. Whether talking about invisible Little People, or a journey into the human soul, or traversing a dark cavern, or wandering in a thick forest, or getting lost in an abandoned house, a story can offer many “what if’s” and provide the audience with fear – fear for the person who is lost and/or in danger – and resolve the story with dread, horror, joy, peace, tears, and wounds from the long journey.

A story is a dangerous thing. The characters who are placed in peril will receive wounds, if the story is good enough, but the wounds can push them to a greater end, even if that “greater end” means death. Too much harm to a character can make us hate the character just as much as a spoiled, unharmed character who knows nothing about life and expects life to work for him or her all the time, but the danger of the unknown in a story can provide the story with such power that emotion will become inevitable –if the character acts like any average human being.

Stories can be even more dangerous, because stories can bring about reality by speaking to the minds of men – humans, who are creatures that can create realities based on their thoughts. What you feed a person through a story can change a person’s life. A story, whether true or fictitious, is powerful enough to spark a person’s imagination and breed brainstorming possibilities for reality.

What will a person do with your story? Can you know what your readers will do with the imaginary ideas you’ve given them?

(Images from: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/201113939582938596/, http://www.pinterest.com/pin/89860955036072521/,

http://www.pinterest.com/pin/370772981794025358/)


~ Fintan 

Epics

An epic may be seen by some as a long, boring story that’s pointless to read and has no bearing on our lives. It’s just a story. An epic is full of construed facts and/or is merely the result of giant exaggerations over time.

For others, an epic may just be one’s source of identity. One may have never read the epic, but instead only about it. A portion of one’s culture may be devoted to one’s epic, but the contents of the epic itself may be unknown to one.

While for you, on the other hand, an epic may be a fascinating story. To you, it may be a story that could be part of your heritage, or it may be a story for your entertainment and may be inspiration for a story of your own.

Among the British, Beowulf is considered an important part of their historical heritage. Hindus consider the two epics Mahabharata and Ramayana to be sacred scripture. The Iliad and The Odyssey, even though large parts of the Western world may not be Greek by descent, are still read today as important parts of history and literature. John. R. R. Tolkien, in fact, found inspiration in the Finnish epic Kalevala for his Lord of the Rings and its mythological histories (http://www.councilofelrond.com/litarticle/the-kalevala-its-influence-on-tolkien/, http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2001/12/1219_tolkienroots.html). Then, the Germans have their Nibelungenlied, which may remind one of Beowulf.

If one can appreciate the giant amount of plot, well-developed characters, and other important story elements found in these epics, one may be overwhelmed, at first, but the vast story-world inside is priceless. Although many of the famous epics, such as Beowulf, Kalevala, Nibelungenlied, and others, were written as poetry instead of prose, an epic is a world of inspiration for one’s own story, and, for some, one’s national and/or cultural identity.

To read translations of these epics online, here are some resources:

Beowulf: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16328/16328-h/16328-h.htm

Iliad: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/6130/6130-h/6130-h.html

Odyssey: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/1727/1727-h/1727-h.htm

Kalevala: http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5186/pg5186.html

Ramayana: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/24869/24869-h/24869-h.html

Mahabharata: https://archive.org/details/TheMahabharataOfKrishna-dwaipayanaVyasa

Nibelungenlied: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/1151/1151-h/1151-h.htm

Excerpt from The KALEVALA

 Then the daughter of the Ether,
  Now the hapless water-mother,
  Raised her shoulders out of water,
  Raised her knees above the ocean,
  That the duck might build her dwelling,
  Build her nesting-place in safety.
  Thereupon the duck in beauty,
  Flying slowly, looking round her,
  Spies the shoulders of the maiden,
  Sees the knees of Ether's daughter,
  Now the hapless water-mother,
  Thinks them to be grassy hillocks,
  On the blue back of the ocean.
  Thence she flies and hovers slowly,
  Lightly on the knee she settles,
  Finds a nesting-place befitting,
  Where to lay her eggs in safety.
  Here she builds her humble dwelling,
  Lays her eggs within, at pleasure,
  Six, the golden eggs she lays there,
  Then a seventh, an egg of iron;
  Sits upon her eggs to hatch them,
  Quickly warms them on the knee-cap
  Of the hapless water-mother;
  Hatches one day, then a second,
  Then a third day sits and hatches.
  Warmer grows the water round her,
  Warmer is her bed in ocean,
  While her knee with fire is kindled,
  And her shoulders too are burning,
  Fire in every vein is coursing.
  Quick the maiden moves her shoulders,
  Shakes her members in succession,
  Shakes the nest from its foundation,
  And the eggs fall into ocean,
  Dash in pieces on the bottom
  Of the deep and boundless waters.
  In the sand they do not perish,
  Not the pieces in the ocean;
  But transformed, in wondrous beauty
  All the fragments come together
  Forming pieces two in number,
  One the upper, one the lower,
  Equal to the one, the other.
  From one half the egg, the lower,
  Grows the nether vault of Terra:
  From the upper half remaining,
  Grows the upper vault of Heaven;
  From the white part come the moonbeams,
  From the yellow part the sunshine,
  From the motley part the starlight...

Excerpt from "Kalevala. Rune 1: Birth of Wainamoinen." found at http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5186/pg5186.html

Image from  http://www.pinterest.com/pin/412642384578519863/ 



~ Fintan

"Many" and "Most"

These two words are important to understand in any situation, including reading and writing. However, the meanings of “many” and “most” are often confused.

Take a look at the word “many.” In English, some other words and/or phrases may be used interchangeably with the word “many,” for instance: “a lot,” “numerous,” and “much.” Also, consider its antonym, “few,” which has synonyms such as “little” or “limited.”

In English, we may use the word “most” or synonyms, including “majority,” “greatest,” “highest,” “supreme,” etc. Then, there is its antonym “least,” which has synonyms including, “minority,” “minimum,” “smallest,” etc.

Let me show you a crowd of three-hundred people with which you have no acquaintance. Would you say that you see many people? You see that these three-hundred people all have brown hair. Next, I show you a thousand people which include the previous-mentioned three-hundred. Seeing thus, would you say that the three-hundred brown-haired people make up most of the crowd? The answer would be an obvious “no.” Still, would you say that the three-hundred brunettes are a lot of – or “many” – people?

Now, envision a group of eight friends. Would you say that these eight friends are many people or few people? If five of the eight friends are eating bread, are the friends who eat bread most of the friends?

For some people, the difference between “many” and “most” may be obvious, while for many others, the difference may be muddled. The difference between the two words, however, may be very important in a given situation.

“Many” is, in fact, a relative term, but the word “most” is more specific. “Most” refers to a majority, although “many” or “much” refers to an evident or an implied contrast against something lesser. As in the two examples of the crowd-of-a-thousand and the eight friends, a minority may be very large, and a majority may be very small.

The difference between the “many” and the “most” can easily become a matter of confusion and can become serious if not enough attention is paid to the difference between these two important words.

~ Fintan