This reminds me of Wittgenstein's remark (in _Culture & Value_?) that if a lion
could speak we wouldn't be able to understand him.

susanne wrote:

> There is a funny proverb which possibly relates to what you just said:
> "It is silly to act as a "Neapolitan" when in the company of real
> Neapolitans".
> Anyhow, I never came across one of them...
>
> Susanne
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: Mark Weiss <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Friday, June 30, 2000 6:15 PM
> Subject: Re: Language, ah language is barry
>
> > What's the old saying, that "a language is a dialect with an army"? Which
> > is why all Italians speak "Italian," even if they can't always understand
> > each other. And why (recently) Serbians, Croats and Bosnians speak
> > different languages that happen to be transparent to each other.
> >
> > I don't know when Scots began to be spoken, but there's a literature since
> > the 14th century that I'm aware of, and I'm no expert. And Tom Leonard's
> > _Radical Renfrew_ documents consistent literary use in the 18th and 19th
> > centuries.
> >
> > As to the gender of a language, it really isn't determined by who writes
> > poetry but by who speaks it, and my recent trip to Glasgow confirmed that
> > men and women there are equally incomprehensible except when they're being
> > kind to strangers, as they usually are.
> >
> >
> > At 05:59 PM 6/30/2000 +0100, you wrote:
> > >Hi Roddy,
> > >
> > >
> > >'Largactyl' must be a new one?  Like it, like it.
> > >
> > >I think I need more advice from Bill about the issue of Scots --
> > >is there a concensus as to whether Scots is a language or
> > >a dialect?  Forgive my ignorance on the matter . . . I've heard
> > >both definitions argued for over the years, but have never clarified
> > >it for myself.
> > >
> > >With regard to 'Englishes' -- I think the reason I don't read Stevens
> > >with an American accent is because the language is recognisable,
> > >if not as something I would ordinarily say, then as something very
> > >close to it -- 'the palm at the end of the mind' becomes 'the shop
> > >at the end of the road'.  At increasing levels of abstractedness,
> > >it is still a language I would conceivably write, if not say.  Scots
> > >on the other hand I would neither say nor write -- I would find it
> > >far easier to write or speak in French, I think, for the reason
> > >that it appears (loaded word . . .) neutral somehow.  Scots has
> > >the appearance of being partisan, by comparison, or a language
> > >which doesn't 'travel' well.  A native tongue.
> > >
> > >I'm wondering whether any non-Scottish writers (or Scots like
> > >myself who weren't raised in the country) have written poetry in
> > >Scots?  If it works as a language as opposed to a dialect, then
> > >this should be possible, in theory -- someone could learn it well
> > >enough to experiment with it in their own verse.
> > >
> > >I would also be fascinated to know how poetry in Scots is
> > >received when you've read poems abroad -- what's the reaction?
> > >For example, I'm wondering whether it's given a noticably different
> > >reception by French audiences than Scandanavian, the latter
> > >perhaps having a closer sensibility to a northern tongue . . . ?
> > >
> > >Last question (I think) -- how far is it true to say that Scots is
> > >essentially a 'masculine' language?  I would be curious to know
> > >the rough percentage of women writing in Scots compared to men.
> > >I've always imagined it to be very gender-specific, somehow,
> > >if only because it's practitioners (up until very recently) have all
> > >been men . . . . again though, I'm coming to this subject largely in
> > >ignorance.
> > >
> > >As a postscript, here's an example of Lanky (Lancashire) poetry
> > >I found on the Web a while back --
> > >
> > >
> > >BOWTON'S YARD
> > >    by SAMUEL LAYCOCK.
> > >
> > >At number one ' Bowton's Yard, mi gronny keeps a skoo,
> > >Hoo hasna' mony scholars yet, hoo's nobbut one or two;
> > >They sen th'owd woman's rayther cross - well, well, it may be so;
> > >Aw know hoo boxed me rarely once, an poo'd me ears an' on.
> > >
> > >At number two lives widow Burns, hoo weshes clooas for folk;
> > >Ther Billy, that;s her son, gets jobs at wheelin' coke;
> > >They sen hoo cooarts wi' Sam-o-Neds, 'at lives at number three;
> > >It may be so, aw canno' tell, it matters nowt to me.
> > >
> > >At number three, reet facin' th'pump, Ned Grimshaw keeps a shop;
> > >He's Eccles-cakes an' gingerbread an' traycle beer an' pop;
> > >He sells oat cakes an' o does Ned, he 'as boath soft an' hard,
> > >An, everybody buys off him 'at lives i' Bowton's Yard.
> > >
> > >At number four, Jack Blunderick lives; he goes to th'mill an' wayves;
> > >An' then, at th'week-end, when he's time, he pows a bit an' shaves;
> > >He's badly off is Jack, poor lad! he's rayther lawm, they sen,
> > >An' his childer keep him down a bit, aw think they'n nine or ten.
> > >
> > >At number five aw live misel', wi' owd Susannah Grimes,
> > >But dunno like so very weel, hoo turns me eawt sometimes;
> > >An' when aw'm in ther's ne'er no leet, aw have to ceawer in't dark;
> > >Aw conno pay mi lodgin' brass becose aw'm eawt o' wark.
> > >
> > >At number six, next door to us, and close to th'side o'th speawt,
> > >Owd Susie Collins sells smo' drink, but hoo's welly allus beawt;
> > >An heaw it is, ut that is so, aw'm sure aw conno' tell,
> > >Hoo happen mak's it very sweet, an' sups it o hersel'.
> > >
> > >At number seven ther's nob'dy lives, they laft it yesterday,
> > >Th' bum-baylis coom an' marked the'r things, an' took 'em o away;
> > >They took 'em in a donkey cart - aw know nowt wheer they went-
> > >Aw reckon they've bin ta'en an' sowd becose they owed some rent.
> > >
> > >At number eight - they're Yawshur folk - ther's only th'mon an' th'woife,
> > >Aw think aw ne'er seed nicer folk nor these in aw mi loife!
> > >Yo'll never see 'em foin' eawt, loike lots o' married folk,
> > >They allus seemgood-temper't like, an' ready wi' a joke.
> > >
> > >At number nine,th'owd cobbler lives, th'owd chap ut mends mi shoon,
> > >He's gettin' very wake an' done, he'll ha' to leeov us soon;
> > >He reads his Bible every day, an' sings just loike a lark,
> > >He says he's practisin' for heaven - he's welly done his wark.
> > >
> > >At number ten James Bowton lives, he's th'noicest heawse in't row;
> > >He's allus plenty o' summat t'ate, an' lots o' brass an' o;
> > >An' when he rides or walks abeawt he's dressed up very fine,
> > >But he isn't hawve as near to heaven as him at number nine.
> > >
> > >At number ten, mi uncle lives, aw co him Uncle Tum,
> > >He goes to concerts up an' deawn an' plays a kettle-drum;
> > >I' bands o' music, an' sich things, he seems to tak' a pride,
> > >An' allus mak's as big a noise as o i'th' place beside.
> > >
> > >At number twelve at th'eend o't row, Joe Stiggins deols i' ale;
> > >He's sixpenny an' fourpenny, dark-colour't an' he's pale;
> > >But aw ne'er touch it, for I know it's ruin't mony a bard,
> > >Aw'm th'only chap as doesn't drink 'at lives i' Bowton's Yard.
> > >
> > >An' neaw aw've done, aw'll say goodbye, an' leov yo' for a while;
> > >Aw know aw haven't towd mi take i' sich a fust-rate style;
> > >But iv yo're pleas't aw'm satisfied, an' ax for no reward
> > >For tellin' who mi neighbours are ut live in Bowton's Yard.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >Andy
> > >
> > >
> > >
> >
> >

--
________________________
Joseph Duemer
School of Liberal Arts-5750
Clarkson University
Potsdam NY 13699
[log in to unmask]
________________________

"Always come down from the barren heights
of cleverness into the green valleys of folly."
 ::Wittgenstein




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