Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Chapter 3
Landscapes, linguascapes, and linguistic mediation in
cyberspace
At least to the more mobile and networked of us, place has become less about our origins
on some singular piece of blood soil, and more about forming connections with the many
sites of our lives.
Malcolm McCullough, Digital Ground, 2004, p. 172
This
chapter
turns
to
my
second
core
research
question:
What
are
the
unique
properties
of
VLL
as
well
as
those
shared
with
other
semantic
and
communicative
environments
both
in
physical
geography
and
in
traditional
media?
In
this
regard,
the
goal
of
the
chapter
is
two-‐fold:
first,
to
conceptualize
and
delineate
the
virtual
linguistic
landscape
as
an
extension
of
the
linguistic
landscape,
but
with
a
distinctive
character
and
a
unique
trajectory;
and,
second,
to
illustrate
the
possibilities
and
constraints
that
cyberspace
presents
as
a
multilingual
LL.
Here,
language
in
cyberspace
is
considered
in
relation
to
the
concept
landscape,
mediated
sensory
experience,
and
perceptions
of
linguistic
artefacts
in
digital
space.
In
particular,
the
properties
of
the
linguistic
landscape
and
its
virtual
counterpart
will
be
compared
and
contrasted.
The
notions
of
landscape,
space,
and
place
will
be
discussed
in
relation
to
the
terms
linguistic
landscape,
linguistic
mediascape,
linguistic
cyberscape
(Ivković,
2007),
and
the
suggested
umbrella
term
linguascape.
Further,
the
interactional
and
experiential
features
of
language
presence
in
virtual
space
relative
to
the
ones
of
LL
will
be
examined,
that
is,
the
role
of
sensory
keys;
longevity
of
the
V/LL
(linguistic
and
virtual
linguistic
landscape)
objects;
agent’s
involvement;
and
conceptual
and
metaphorical
groundedness
of
VLL
in
LL.
The
chapter
will
conclude
with
a
discussion
of
the
eco-‐linguistic
view
on
multilingualism
in
cyberspace.
3.1 Landscape
Landscape
has
all
the
features
of
language.
[...]
Like
the
meanings
of
words,
the
meanings
of
landscape
elements
(water,
for
example)
are
only
potential
until
context
shapes
them.
Ann Whiston Spirn, 1998, p. 125
We
tend
to
think
of
landscape
as
a
section
of
a
universe:
a
landscape
has
boundaries,
and
therefore
it
can
be
more
or
less
truthfully
described
in
a
narrative,
replicated
in
a
painting,
or
mirrored
in
a
photograph.
While
such
conceptualizations
may
hold
for
natural
landscapes,
physical
boundaries
have
only
a
relative
value
in
defining
cultural
landscapes,
replete
with
artefacts
and
generated
by
human
activity,
including
linguistic
artefacts
and
mediated
linguistic
activity
(on
linguistic
mediation
in
cultural
activity,
see
Thorne,
2003).
That
the
word/concept
landscape
is
at
the
heart
of
the
term
virtual
linguistic
landscape
can
hardly
be
overstated:
We
tend
to
intuit
digital
artefacts
and
relations
linguistically,
through
the
ways
we
make
use
of
items
and
conceive
of
relations
in
the
world
of
tangible
materiality
(see
§
3.2.5).
Whether
in
physical
or
virtual
space,
it
is
the
culture
and
homo
linguisticus
that
‘scape’
it.
“Is there a cyber place? Somewhere that you can send all his emails to? So I never have
to see them again.”
Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City, 2008
The
relationship
between
the
physical
environment
and
human
agency/activity
was
a
prominent
topic
among
the
early
20th
century
American
human
geographers.
Semple
(1911),
for
example,
took
a
deterministic,
mostly
unidirectional,
stance,
according
to
which
the
environment
assumes
the
primary
responsibility
for
shaping
the
human
culture
and
historical
development,
which
“takes
place
on
the
earth
surface,
and
therefore
is
more
or
less
molded
by
its
geographic
setting”
(p.
257).
Named
“environmental
determinism”
(Mitchell,
2000,
p.
20),
the
view
marshals
the
critical
influence
of
the
environment
on
culture,
arguing
that
the
features
of
human
culture
are
largely
a
reaction
to
environmental
factors.
The
movement
was
subsequently
critiqued
because
it
failed
to
account
for
cultural
differences,
a
task
that
another
North
American
human
and
cultural
geographer,
Carl
Sauer,
will
undertake.
Sauer
(1925)
took
a
critical
position
towards
the
deterministic
view,
arguing
that
it
is
the
human
agency
that
modifies
the
earth’s
surface
and
that
the
humankind
(“man”),
as
“the
latest
agent”
and
“an
agent
of
surficial
modification,”
should
be
considered
a
geomorphological
agent
(p.
139).
With
regard
to
the
active
role
of
the
society
in
shaping
its
environment,
for
example,
Колбовский
(Kolbowsky)
(2003)
states:
Культурный
ландшафт
(КЛ),
в
котором
мы
обитаем,
является
социально
обозначенным
и
сконструированным,
посредством
занесения
социальных
реальностей
в
физический
мир.
Таким
образом,
культурный
ландшафт
-‐
способ
присвоения,
социальной
организации
и
структурирования
пространства
обитания.
В
этом
аспекте
КЛ
выступает
как
социальное
пространство,
выражающее
формы
существования
различных
пространственно-‐временных
отношений
-‐
так
называемых
"хронотопов."1
Landscape
is
a
spatio-‐temporal
‘land-‐shape’
or
chronotope,
a
product
of
both
vertical
(historical)
and
horizontal
(spatial)
societal
activities
and
processes,
which
are
by
no
means
exclusively
physical,
which,
according
to
Sauer
(1925),
may
be
defined
“as
an
area
made
up
of
a
distinct
association
of
forms,
both
physical
and
cultural”
(p.
300).
In
Corner’s
(1991)
view,
landscape
is
a
cultural
schemata
and
itself
a
text
whose
hermeneutical
nature
invites
transformation
and
interpretation
(p.
130).
To
advance
these
claims,
what
matters
is
not
only
the
material
substance
but
more
so
the
associations
or
assemblage
of
these
forms—earthly
or
digital,
linguistic
or
non-‐linguistic,
man-‐made
or
naturally
occurring—that
give
rise
to
mental
spaces
created
in
and
by
the
mind.
For
Creswell
(2004),
landscape
is
not
just
a
panoramic
view
of
a
chunk
of
land
with
a
potential
observer
at
a
distance;
rather,
landscape
is
interrelated
with
space
and
place
(p.
12),
place
being
“not
just
a
thing
in
the
world
but
a
way
of
seeing,
knowing
and
understanding
the
world”
(p.
11),
and,
essentially,
an
instance
of
social
space,
endowed
with
meaning
(p.
12).
According
to
Tuan
(1977),
space
and
place
can
only
be
defined
relative
to
each
other
(p.
6).
While
place
is
more
concrete
and
means
security,
space
is
more
abstract
and
means
freedom
(p.
3).
To
describe
this
interrelation,
one
might
say
that
space
and
place
are
increasingly
being
experientially
and
perceptually
spliced
together
in
today’s
both
directly
experienced
and
mediated
world,
whereby
cyberspace
licences
the
mind,
if
not
the
body,
to
steer
through
space
in
order
to
find
place.
Once
we
find
place,
we
are
attached
to
it,
but
long
for
space
(Tuan,
1977,
p.
3).
The
notion
of
‘landscape’
in
its
social
variant
is
akin
to
the
notion
of
‘social
space,’
that
is,
the
kind
of
space
that
according
to
Lefebvre
(1991),
“subsumes
things
produced,
and
encompasses
their
interrelationships
in
their
coexistence
and
simultaneity—their
(relative)
order
and/or
(relative)
disorder”
(p.
73).
By
making
space,
we
locate
self
(Thurlow
&
Jaworski,
2010b,
p.
6).
We
produce
(e.g.,
Lefebvre,
1991),
construct
(e.g.,
Bourdieu,
1977),
shape
(e.g.,
Cosgrove,
1984)
and
scape
spaces,
through
linguistic
and
other
semiotic
expressions
and
means,
by
generating
and
regenerating
meanings
where
we
are
allowed,
where
we
can,
and
how
we
can.
To treat the linguistic landscape as place and its virtual counterpart as space
would be simplistic, although it is no coincidence that word cyberspace is derived from
the notion of choice implicated in the word ‘space’—the relative freedom to be who we
want to be and where we want to be. The idea of physicality, on the other hand,
standardized in traditional geography, is anchored primarily in the concept of place, place
denoting and connoting the notion of “bounded settings in which social relations and
identity are constituted” (Duncan, 2000, p. 582) (see Figure 3.1), with boundaries that
provide the sense of security but nonetheless impose certain constraints, such as the
1
The cultural landscape (CL) we inhabit is socially marked and constructed through the influence of social
realities on the physical world. Accordingly, cultural landscape is a way of adopting the social organization
as well as a way of the structuration of the living space. In this connection, CL assumes the role of social
space, expressing the modalities of various spatial and temporal relationships, or chronotopes. [my
translation] Retrieved November 15, 2011 from http://kultland2003.narod.ru/1-2.html
constraints of representation (i.e., who we want to be), and movement/access (i.e., where
we want to be).
Graham (1998) argues that one should be cautious of the perils of adopting a
Euclidean notion of viewing space and place as Cartesian categories, “embedded within
some wider, objective framework of time-space” (p. 181). Instead, places need to be
defined in relational terms as well. As Massey (1994) also suggests, places need to be
defined,
As articulated moments in networks of social relations and understandings, but
where a large proportion of these relations, experiences, and understandings are
on a far larger scale than what we happen to define for that moment as the place
itself. (p. 69)
Figure 3.2 La guerre des langues (War of languages): French versus English in
commentaries on Eurovision Song YouTube pages discussing the 2008 English language
song representing France (a ‘word cloud’ depiction)5
Both
Wordle
figures
possess
essential
elements
of
a
geographical
representation
as
depicted
on
geopolitical
maps,
including
a
bidimensional
shape,
resembling
mostly
natural
borders
in
the
majority
of
regions,
and
use
of
colours
to
mark
political
borders.
Figure
3.1
accidentally
somewhat
reminds
of
Bulgaria,
and
Figure
3.2
almost
looks
like
Austria
on
the
map
(at
least
to
me).
These
digital
forms
and
shapes,
however,
are
not
entirely
arbitrary
as
they
are
internally
generated
by
the
frequencies
of
the
lexical
items
from
the
input—the
source
text—and
externally
by
the
programming
algorithm
of
varying
complexity,
including
parameters
that
the
user
may
supply,
that
is,
font
type,
colour,
and
layout.
Geography
of
human
activity
Both
the
linguistic
and
virtual
linguistic
landscapes
are
instantiations
of
language
use
and
linguistic
expression
constituting
the
geography
of
human
activity,
and
5
http://www.wordle.net/show/wrdl/5114716/Tellier%2C_France_2008
therefore
are
matters
of
human
and
cultural
geography
(e.g.,
Thurlow
&
Jaworski,
2010b,
pp.
2–6).
The
linguistic
character
of
new
media—the
multiplicity,
hybridity
and
indexicality
of
language
in
cyberspace—in
spite
of
the
seemingly
‘placeless’
character
of
cyberspace,
devoid
of
a
physical
territory,
is
here
considered
within
a
more
comprehensive
scope
of
research
in
human
geography,
as
“the
discipline
of
geography
concerned
with
the
spatial
differentiation
and
organization
of
human
activity
and
its
interrelationships
with
the
physical
environment”
(Johnston
et
al.,
2000,
p.
353).
Sherman
and
Craig
(2003)
illustrate
the
‘place-‐like’
treatment
of
what
they
call
‘new
space,’
referencing
the
modalities
of
the
usage
of
deictic
adverbs
here
and
there
in
a
live
chat
forum,
as
in
the
question
“‘Is
Baker
here?’—here
being
the
space
created
by
the
forum”
(p.
17).
Accordingly,
the
notion
of
physicality,
inherent
in
the
term
‘geography,’
extends
to
the
digital
environment
by
virtue
of
the
engagement—human
activity
and
its
relationship
with
the
environment—that
supersedes
the
disciplinary
bounds
of
traditional
geography,
the
former
being
constrained
to
what
is
only
permeable
to
tactile/textural,
gustatory
and
olfactory
sensory
response
(see
Figures
3.3a
&
3.3b).
Figure
3.3
depicts
a
suggested
disciplinary
framework
of
human
geography
centred
on
the
constructs
of
the
linguistic
and
virtual
linguistic
landscape.
In
this
context,
the
field
of
inquiry
of
human
geography
is
further
subdivided
into
cultural
and,
in
turn,
language
geography.
Language
is
regarded
as
a
cultural
artefact
that
both
shapes
and
is
shaped
by
the
environment,
its
affordances
as
well
as
constraints
(§3.3.2).
Withers
(2000)
defines
language
geography
as
“the
study
of
the
changing
distribution
and
social
usage
of
language,
including
the
ways
in
which
language
within
geography
is
now
and
has
in
the
past
been
used
to
establish
and
negotiate
power
and
identity”
(p.
432).
In
the
process
of
power
and
identity
negotiation,
language
usage,
including
communication
in
individual
languages,
appropriates
space,
and
in
so
doing
also
draws
borders
delineating
various
ethnolinguistic
communities,
interest
groups
as
well
as
communities
of
practice
(Lave
&
Wenger,
1991.
Space
thus
becomes
place
arising
from
social
interactions,
including
linguistic
activity:
Environment
becomes
‘homeplace’
once
we
name
the
‘objects
out
there’
and
convert
them
into
real
presences
“by
casting
a
linguistic
net”
through
storytelling
and
naming
(Tuan,
1991,
p.
686).
Tuan
(1991)
argues
that
language
has
the
capability
to
make
places
and
to
transform
the
environment
in
ways
other
than
materially
(pp.
684–687),
by
using
the
power
of
words
to
bring
about
change.
He
goes
on
to
say
that,
“naming
is
power—the
creative
power
to
call
something
into
being,
to
render
the
invisible
visible,
to
impart
a
certain
character
to
things.”
(p.
688)
Figure 3.3 V/LL and geography
The
linguistic
and
virtual
linguistic
landsacpes
are
here
regarded
as
domain-‐
or
media-‐specific
instantiations
of
language
and
language
use
in
the
public
sphere.
They
are
linguistically
and
semiotically
constructed
by
human
action
and
sign
production
in
their
respective
socio-‐cultural
spheres,
whether
they
be
urban
life
in
public
venues
or
in
cyber
worlds,
in
physical
or
in
virtual
geographies
(Figure
3.3),
the
latter
being
viewed
by
Papacharissi
(2009)
as
“founded
upon
a
fluid
premise
of
evolving
connectivity"
(p.
215).
Papacharissi
goes
on
to
say
that
virtual
geographies
are
situational
and
not
static,
with
a
flexible
architecture
of
online
social
systems
permitting
“to
form
organically
and
not
as
colonies
of
their
offline
equivalents.”
The
virtual
geographies
are
constituted
by
the
underlying
physicality
of
bits
and
bytes,
cable
networks,
and
complex
computer
architectures
which
give
rise
to
virtual,
digitized
geographies
of
cultures
and
languages,
ultimately
relying
“on
the
physics
of
silicon”
(Cicognani,
1998,
p.
20).
So
far
in
this
chapter,
I
have
argued
that
both
physical
and
virtual
landscapes
are
concerned
with
the
role
language
plays
to
mediate
actualization
of
human
agency
situated
here
and
now,
as
well
as
in
its
historical
Umwelt,
physical
or
digital.
Emergent
in
linguistic
and
socio-‐cultural
practices,
the
agency,
or
the
capacity
to
exert
influence
and
effectuate
changes,
is—linguistically,
socially
and
culturally—
both
constrained
and
enabled
(Ahearn,
2001,
p.
8)
by
space/place
as
well
as
time
and
heterogeneity
of
the
environment
it
inhabits.
In
the
next
section,
I
will
consider
the
notion
of
VLL
as
constituting
the
‘linguascape,’
or
language
presence
and
linguistic
diversity
in
the
public
sphere.
3.2 Linguascape: Language Presence and Linguistic Diversity in the
Public Sphere
Landscapes can be treated as texts with subtexts, the tangled meanings of which are
seldom clear.
Tuan, 1991, p. 685
For
Jackson
(1984),
a
landscape
is
more
of
a
synthetic
space,
“superimposed
on
the
face
of
the
land”
than
it
is
just
a
natural
feature
(p.
8).
Recognizing
the
instrumental
role
of
the
environment
in
“reorganizing
space
for
human
needs,”
Jackson
suggests
a
new
definition
of
landscape
as
“a
composition
of
man-‐made
or
man-‐modified
spaces
to
serve
as
infrastructure
or
background
for
our
collective
existence”
(p.
8).
If
we
extend
the
notion
of
infrastructure
to
other
semantic
spaces
(Tække,
2002,
p.
26)
and
non-‐physical
domains,
including
online
social
networks
and
virtual
worlds,
Jackson’s
definition
may
well
fit
definitions
of
other
‘scapes,’
including
cyberscape
(Figure
3.4),
to
describe
and
account
for
the
role
of
human
agency
in
configuring
its
lived,
experiential
spaces,
and
spaces
of
activity,
for
which
the
term
linguascape
may
be
used
as
a
common
denominator.
Jaworski
et
al.
(2003)
describes
linguascaping
as
a
creative
force
and
linguascape
as
a
product
of
languages,
domestic
and
host,
and
their
associated
referents,
such
as
“the
shots
of
local
people
and
scenery,”
ethnic
music
and
even
“sampling
and
descriptions
of
local
food
and
drinks”
(p.
19)
(on
linguascaping,
see
also
Thurlow
&
Jaworski,
2010a).
Steyaert,
Ostendorp,
&
Gaibrois
(2011)
seek
to
re-‐
conceptualize
the
term
linguascaping,
taking
on
the
neologism
as
a
discursive
multilingual
practice
and
contextualizing
it
in
the
business
settings
of
two
Swiss
companies.
Interestingly,
Steyaert
at
al.
mention
the
term
linguistic
landscape
as
an
equivalent
name
to
linguascape,
however,
without
anchoring
these
remodelled
concepts
within
the
existing
LL
literature
and
research,
at
the
same
time
restricting
the
referential
value
and
scope
of
the
term
to
discursive
practices
to
describe
“how
the
flow
of
languages
that
cross
a
specific
organization
space
[here
italicized
for
emphasis]
is
discursively
mediated”
(p.
270).
Similarly,
other
researchers
have
used
the
word
linguascape
in
various
contexts,
mostly
in
a
non-‐technical
sense,
as
expressive
and
descriptive
terms.
Mufwene
(2008),
for
example,
attributes
changing
of
the
African
linguascape
to
the
linguistic
colonialism
of
the
Western
European
nations
and
to
new
socioeconomic
structuration,
“that
favoured
the
emergence
of
new
language
varieties”
(p.
258).
In
a
more
technical
sense,
as
an
operational
term
within
the
modern
sociolinguistic
inquiry
of
V/LL,
the
term
linguascape,
it
is
here
suggested,
may
extend
to
other
places
and
spaces
of
public
interaction
(Figure
3.4)—top-‐down
intervention
and
bottom-‐up
socialization
and
activism—mediated
through
linguistic
and
other
semiotic
means,
that
is,
as
a
common
denominator
and
umbrella
concept
for
all
the
instantiations
of
semantic
spaces
linguistically
and
semiotically
created
by
human
agency
in
the
different
embodiments
of
primarily
public
spaces,
physical
or
digital
(see
Figure
3.4).
Figure 3.4 Linguascape: language in the public sphere
The
physical
world
(cityscapes,
streetscapes),
traditional
(TV,
film),
or
New
Media
(networked
gaming,
Internet,
cyber
worlds)
are
all
potential
loci
of
language
contact,
intercultural
encounter,
and
ethnolinguistic
contestation
where
current
and
future
bottom-‐up
and
top-‐down
language
policies
and
practices
are
forged.
The
arrows
(Figure
3.4)
represent
the
‘cross-‐overs’
and
interconnectedness
between
the
traditional
and
new
media,
indicating
blending
of
communicative
spheres
or
‘social
spaces’
of
a
kind.
In
essence,
communication
is
not
restricted
to
a
single
social
space.
According
to
Lefebvre
(1991),
social
spaces
in
isolation
are
abstractions,
actualized
only
in
interrelationship
with
other
social
spaces
within
“an
unlimited
multiplicity
or
unaccountable
set
of
social
spaces”
(p.
86)6.
Examples
of
these
mediated
linguistic
and
semiotic
item
flows
emerging
from
‘social
spaces’
are
a
photograph
of
a
multilingual
(or
monolingual)
street
plate
shown
on
TV
or
displayed
on
a
web
page,
or
the
Eurovision
Song
Contest
as
part
of
all
three
environments—landscape,
mediascape
and
cyberscape
(Chapter
5).
The
linguo-‐semiotic
flows—discursive
elements
and
processes
that
mediate
social
interactions—cross-‐reference
the
items
in
the
ontologies
of
both
traditional
and
new
media.
These
trans-‐media
flows
further
enhance
the
complexity
of
the
linguistically
and
modally
heterogeneous
experience,
traversing
the
increasingly
porous
media
boundaries
and
thus
involving
a
variety
of
senses
and
varied
extents
of
their
use.
At
the
same
time,
they
emerge
from
parallel
social
spaces
that
“interpenetrate
one
another
and/or
superimpose
themselves
upon
one
another”
(Lefebvre,
1991,
p.
86).
6
This is in contrast to Bourdieu and Thompson’s (1991) conceptualization of ‘social space’ as “a set of
distinct and coexisting positions [italicized for emphasis] which are exterior to one another and which are
defined in relation to one another through their mutual exteriority” (p.270)
3.3 Linguistic Mediation in Cyberspace
Physical
or
virtual,
linguascapes
are
parts
of
an
ontology
selected
by
an
agent—
observer,
spectator,
flâneur,
or
Internet
surfer—and
mediated
by
material
and
symbolic
artefacts.
These
slices
of
a
universe
sui
generis
are
distinguishable
by
the
types
and
configuration
of
linguistic
and
non-‐linguistic
(including
multimodal)
objects,
properties,
relations,
processes,
and
events,
whose
exhaustive
taxonomy
constitutes
the
domain
of
V/LL.
Whether
a
digital
photograph,
a
screenshot,
a
panoramic
video
recording,
or
a
3D
image,
these
digital
artefacts
(that
is,
material,
digitally
generated
objects)
possess
properties
that
both
enable
and
constrain
interaction,
while
at
the
same
time
co-‐define
their
environment
with
an
agency
and
mediate
our
involvement
in
and
with
the
world.
Our
virtual
experiences
are
still
predominantly
bidimensional
and
‘screen-‐based,’
mediated
by
“a
rectangular
surface
that
frames
a
virtual
world
and
that
exists
within
the
physical
world
of
a
viewer”
(Manovich,
2001,
p.
16).
Mediation
is
one
of
the
central
themes
in
sociocultural
theory
(SCT).
The
concept
rests
on
Vygotsky’s
claim
that
“higher
forms
of
human
mental
activity
are
mediated
by
culturally
constructed
auxiliary
means,”
the
latter
arising
“as
a
consequence
of
participation
in
cultural
activities”
(Lantolf
&
Thorne,
2006,
pp.
59).
Lantolf
and
Thorne
distinguish
between
cultural
artefacts
(e.g.,
books,
paper,
clocks,
technology,
toys,
eating
utensils),
cultural
concepts
(e.g.,
self,
person,
family,
time,
literacy
law,
religion,
mind),
and
physical
tools
(e.g.,
hammers,
bulldozers,
shovels)
that
are
inserted
between
our
activity
and
an
external
object
(pp.
59–60).
Our
concern
is
the
relationship
between
language
as
a
symbolic
artefact,
in
its
multiplicity
and
hybridity,
and
the
human
agency,
the
experiencer,
this
relationship
being
mediated
through
digital
objects,
essentially
of
sensory,
and
therefore
physical,
nature,
in
multilingual
and
multimodal
cyberspace.
We
experience
and
interact
with
the
environment
and
objects
by
selectively
employing
our
sensory
motor
system
in
response
to
these
affordances
and
constraints.
With
regard
to
V/LL,
the
following
properties
of
objects
and
their
generative
and
interactional
capabilities
within
the
environment
will
be
examined:
sensory
keys,
longevity
of
objects;
agent’s
involvement;
and
VLL
as
a
conceptual
metaphor,
including
the
constraints
of
such
conceptualization
(Table
3.1).
Figure 3.5a Multilingual ‘thank you’ card and Figure 3.5b Multilingual ‘thank you’ e-
card7
7
http://seiza.ro/ecards/show/id/1004
Retrieved
January
18,
2012
daily
or
even
more
often;
and
whether
a
routine
update
or
a
substantial
reprogramming
of
a
web
page,
it
is
a
much
less
expensive
renovation.
(p.
19)
Consequently,
the
linguistic
content
indicating
ownership,
identity,
and
laws
used
in
physical
landscape
signage
is,
by
nature,
more
fixed
and
stable
than
that
available
to
VLL.
Thus,
signage
in
physical
space
explicitly
targets
a
local
population,
which
the
Internet
cannot
do,
though
specific
online
communities
can
control
and
restrict
membership,
allowing
some
focus.
Furthermore,
language
choices
implicitly
typecast
an
audience.
Despite
the
fact
that
Internet
sites
are
more
linguistically
dynamic
in
character
than
their
physical
counterparts,
individual
linguistic
choices
in
VLL
are
still
shaped
by
the
environment,
though
translation
assistance
is
more
easily
accessible,
if
not
always
accurate.
The
Internet
offers
more
democratic
opportunities
in
authoring
and
authority;
e.g.,
sites
can
be
created
and
revised
through
multilateral
editing
using
wiki
software,
e.g.,
Wikipedia,
or
a
content
sharing
websites,
e.g.,
YouTube
or
Flickr.
Many
real
world
billboards
are
programmed
screens,
changing
messages
at
timed
intervals,
or
displaying
up-‐to-‐the
minute
advice
on
highway
driving
conditions.
So,
just
as
Web
2.0
advancements
towards
real-‐virtual
interactions
are
incrementally
converging
the
worlds
of
atoms
and
those
of
bits,
so
is
physical
LL
absorbing
digital
signs.
Because
of
this
flexibility,
virtual
content
can
more
dynamically
reflect
‘real-‐time’
socio-‐political
relations.
The
cityscape
does
include
signs
that
are
more
transitory
in
nature,
including
revolving
commercial
materials,
such
as
billboards
for
goods
and
services
and
entertainment
posters;
seasonal
public
notices,
such
as
building
permits
and
roadworks
(Figure
3.6);
and
recyclable
materials,
such
as
political
and
business
notices.
Figure 3.6 Multilingual digitized poster8
This
digitized
PDF
file
is
written
in
multiple
immigrant
languages
of
Australia,
including
Amharic,
Bengali,
Khmer,
and
Turkish.
Some
of
the
major
international
languages
are
missing:
notably,
French
and
German.
The
linguistic
choices
indicate
that
the
area
is
predominantly
populated
by
the
first-‐language
speakers
of
languages
spoken
in
developing
and
former
socialist
nations,
including
Ethiopia,
Iran,
India,
Somalia,
Vietnam,
as
well
as
former
USSR
and
Yugoslavia.
In
addition,
the
multilingual
digitized
poster
targets
only
the
local
population,
facilitating
the
access
through
the
Internet,
while
potentially
keeping
the
cost
of
printing
down
and
preserving
the
natural
resources
via
paperless
information
distribution.
However,
as
the
poster
is
obviously
displaced,
its
function
is
possibly
a
warning
for
those
who
intend
to
take
the
road
for
travel
and/or
an
illustration
of
safety
measures
taken
by
the
Australian
Department
of
Transport
and
its
agencies,
potentially
reaching
global
readership.
In
any
event,
this
multimodal
artefact
delineates
the
territory/space
both
in
LL
and
VLL.
The
artefact
from
Figure
3.4
represents
features
of
LL
that
have
a
limited
residual
value
within
their
physical
milieu.
VLL,
however,
has
more
in
common
with
the
rotating
content
on
physical
billboards
than
with
stationary
signs
because
websites
are
cheaper
and
easier
to
maintain,
develop
and
expand.
Web
1.0
manifestations
of
static
but
hypertext
linked
advertising—analogous
to
billboards—
provide
multiple
configurations
of
multilingualism.
8
http://www.safework.sa.gov.au/uploaded_files/aeSafetySignsx5.pdf
Retrieved
January,
18
2012
Figure 3.7 Complementary multilingualism: travel advertisement
Figure
3.7,
a
home
page
of
a
Spanish
airline,
illustrates
complementary
multilingualism.
The
webpage
interface
offers
versions
in
ten
European
languages,
including
four
official
languages
in
Spain,
either
at
the
national
level
(Spanish
or
castiliano/español)
or
locally
(Basque/euskara;
Catalan/català;
and
Galician/galego),
shown
in
a
drop-‐down
dialogue
box.
The
web
page
is
a
complex
multilingual
and
multimodal
semiograph—material
form
of
the
sign—displaying
a
number
of
bilingual
clusters:
in
the
upper
left
corner
there
is
code-‐switched,
English-‐Galician-‐English
message
“flying
hoxe
(‘today’)
means
VUELING,”
and
several
English
and
Spanish
clusters
on
otherwise
Galician
version:
¡WOW!
Cuantas
rutas
nuevas,”
“reserva
now,”
“tu
las
maletas
and
yo
los
vuelos”
[code-‐switched
segments
in
English
are
underlined].
The
English
word
‘wow’
is
preceded
with
the
inverted
exclamation
mark,
which
is
the
orthographic
convention
unique
to
Spanish.
In
the
central
part
of
the
embedded
cluster,
the
contours
of
clouds
are
formed
in
the
shape
of
the
English
word
‘new,’
illustrating
the
ludic
function
of
metaphorical
code-‐
switching
(for
example,
see
Crystal,
1998,
for
ludic
function
in
language).
It
is
also
important
to
note
that
the
examples
of
the
static
Web
in
the
dissertation
are
necessarily
snapshots
of
digital
artefacts
(semiographs)
captured
at
a
single
point
in
time
and
space/place.
The
display
of
the
semiographs,
however,
is
also
impacted
by
the
type
of
browser
used
(e.g.,
Explorer,
Safari,
Firefox),
type
of
device
(e.g.,
desktop,
hand-‐held),
and
locale
(user
adaptation
based
on
the
information
about
the
presumed
language
and
culture
of
the
user
collected
from
the
IP
address,
included
in
the
HTTP
header).
Depending
on
the
browser,
device
type,
and
locale,
the
Web
server
may
input
different
culture
and
language-‐specific
parameters,
which
could
result
in
different
variants
(instantiations)
of
the
digital
semiograph
(see
Figures
2.2
&
2.3
displaying
two
language-‐specific
versions
of
the
website
of
the
Icelandic
Board
of
Tourism).9
People navigate sites. They follow links from place to place. They wander around a site,
they get lost, they can't find a page or resource they know is there. Sites have designers
or architects and an organized structure. There are site maps and navigation guides.
Zack Tomaszewski,
200210
Items,
processes
and
events
from
virtual
space
are
often
coined
using
the
same
vocabulary
representing
items
from
the
physical
world,
such
as
the
information
highway,
chat
room,
discussion
forum,
virtual
tour,
website,
home
page,
mouse,
the
Net,
computer
virus,
ebook,
and
even
a
virtual
forest
(Figure
3.6).
An
Internet
user
might
surf
the
net,
lurk
in
a
chat
room,
shout
in
an
email,
visit
a
virtual
art
gallery,
and
even
cruise
a
website,
though
none
of
these
physical
actions
is
possible.
Lakoff
and
Johnson
give
examples
of
conceptual
metaphors
[capitalized
and
articles
9
I am indebted to Melanie Baljko for this observation.
10
http://www2.hawaii.edu/~ztomasze/ling440/proposal.html
omitted
by
convention],
followed
by
their
use,
such
as:
IDEAS
ARE
PEOPLE,
as
in
‘He
breathed
new
life
into
the
idea’;
IDEAS
ARE
PLANTS,
as
in
‘That’s
a
budding
theory’;
IDEAS
ARE
PRODUCTS,
as
in
‘We
generated
a
lot
of
new
ideas
this
week.’
The
notion
of
earthly
space
is
also
at
the
core
of
the
term
VLL
as
almost
any
idea
of
interaction
in
cyberspace
is
anchored
in
the
concepts
that
are
borrowed
from
our
lived
experiences
in
bounded
physical
space,
land
(Figure
3.8).
Figure 3.8 VLL as a ‘metaphorical space’: Virtual Forest11
Figure
3.8
presents
a
monolingual
educational
website
that
invites
the
viewer,
an
elementary
school
biology
student,
who
is
positioned
both
as
a
detective
and
scientist,
to
explore
a
virtual
world,
linguistically
(verbally)—Let’s
cruise!!!,
Sprawl,
Timberrr!,
Tree
DETECTIVE—and
visually—owl,
racoon,
cat,
trees,
four-‐leaf
‘lucky’
clover,
detective,
green
maple
leaf,
turtles,
birds,
green
background—landscaped
by
the
metaphors.
Thanks
to
her
familiarity
with
the
concepts
and
relations
from
the
tangible,
physical
world,
the
student
can
make
sense
of,
and
transfer
that
knowledge
to,
the
phenomena
that
are
taking
place
in
distant
locales,
such
as
the
Amazonian
rainforest.
On
the
basis
of
this
intertextual—verbal
and
visual—knowledge,
coupled
with
the
student’s
“previous
experiences
of
the
objects
presented
and
the
relations
among
them,”
she
is
“able
to
make
the
various
objects
and
locations
that
are
presented
converge
into
a
coherent
visual
presentation
of
a
virtual
world”
(Baldry
&
Thibault,
2006,
p.
120).
Once
the
student
makes
sense
of
the
virtual
objects
and
11
http://www.ext.vt.edu/resources/4h/virtualforest/ Retrieved January 21, 2012
relations,
she
can
then
transfer
and
scaffold
the
newly
acquired
knowledge
back
onto
the
phenomena
in
the
lived
world.
The
home
page
introduces
the
following
verbal
and
visual
‘metaphorical
clusters’
(for
cluster
analysis,
see
Baldry
and
Thibault,
2006,
pp.
120-‐125):
1.
STUDENT
IS
SAILOR,
as
in
agentive
‘Let’s
cruise!!!’:
She
needs
to
know
how
to
steer
and
navigate
the
Web
for
relevant
information.
2.
FOREST/INTERNET
IS
SEA,
as
in
ambient
‘Let’s
cruise!!!’:
The
Internet
is
a
forest,
which
in
turn
is
a
sea,
a
vast
amount
of
information
at
one’s
disposal,
but
where
one
can
be
lost
if
not
able
to
navigate.
3.
STUDENT
IS
RACOON,
as
in
the
anthropomorphized
image
of
a
racoon
dressed
in
a
detective
suit
and
holding
a
magnifying
glass
in
her
left
hand:
Student
is
an
investigator
and
researcher,
whose
task
is
to
find
out
causes
and
come
up
with
solutions.
4.
PEOPLE
HURT
PLANET
EARTH,
as
in
‘Sprawl’
(see
the
embedded
window
in
Figure
3.8
displaying
the
message,
‘Human
Impact
on
the
Forest
Ecosystem’).
People
destroy
their
habitat.
The
students
should
be
aware
of
the
damaging
effect
of
uncontrolled
sprawl
of
human
infrastructure
all
over
the
planet,
and
eventually
be
active
in
protecting
our
common
environment.
Such
metaphors
indicate
that
we
transfer
lived
experiences
onto
the
virtual
domain.
With
regard
to
human
perception
in
the
virtual
world,
Sherman
and
Craig
(2003)
claim
that,
“the
transference
can
be
accelerated
if
a
direct
analogy
is
pointed
out
between
the
concept
under
study
and
an
already
understood
concept.”
They
go
on
to
write,
“As
patterns
of
analogous
relationships
become
apparent,
the
shared
concepts
can
often
be
generalized
into
a
class
of
operations
(e.g.,
a
mathematical
concept)”
(p.
212).
The
metaphors
from
the
source
domain
thus
enable
the
user,
particularly
the
novice
(Maglio
&
Matlock,
1998),
to
interact
with
the
virtual
domain
based
on
familiar
experiences
from
real
world
domains.
The
main
role
of
at
least
novel
metaphors
is
to
enable
a
novice
(Dreyfus
&
Dreyfus,
1986;
Dreyfus,
2001
in
a
target
domain,
such
as
the
Internet,
to
interact
with
the
target
domain
based
on
previous
experiences
from
correlate
and
familiar
domains,
such
as
the
physical
or
‘real’
world.
Through
the
metaphor
INTERNET
IS
WEB,
a
beginner
conceives
the
Internet
as
a
system
of
intricate
threads,
more
so
than
an
experienced
user
does.
In
a
study
that
examined
metaphorical
conception
of
the
WWW
among
novice
and
experienced
users,
Maglio
and
Matlock
(1998)
found
that
inexperienced
users—
when
prompted
to
explain
their
experience
browsing
certain
websites—“more
often
mixed
in
their
experiences
using
the
keyboard
mouse,
and
other
elements
of
the
physical
(non-‐web)
domain
(e.g.
‘I
clicked
on...’
or
‘I
typed
in…’),
whereas
experienced
users
did
not.
In
addition,
beginners
were
more
likely
to
refer
to
the
web
as
a
container
than
were
experienced
web
users.”
The
experienced
user,
on
the
other
hand,
has
already
adopted
the
new
metaphor,
while
disregarding
some
of
its
original
properties
and
associations.
For
example,
an
expert
Internet
user
regards
‘web
spiders’
or
‘crawlers’
distinctly
in
terms
of
their
technical
properties
and
roles
within
a
given
context,
rather
than
associating
those
terms
with
the
insects
of
the
same
name.
This
example
focuses
on
the
educational
aspect
of
a
VLL
in
the
context
of
metaphorical
transference
of
intermedial
(physical
onto
virtual;
printed
text
or
direct
experience
onto
screen)
experiences,
whereby
VLL
is
considered
primarily
in
its
broader
sense,
as
language
presence
(and
absence)
and
linguistic
diversity
in
cyberspace-‐as-‐the-‐public-‐sphere.
Nonetheless,
this
mini
case
study
also
illustrates
the
more
specific
interpretation
of
VLL
as
visibility
and
salience
of
linguistic
items
and
other
semiotic
markers
delinating
ethnolinguistic
presence
and
indexing
power
relations
in
cyberspace,
here
defining
the
space
of
language
use
with
a
monolingual
English
text,
and
thus
demarcating
the
context
to
the
primarily
North
American
English-‐speaking
student
audience.
This
is
also
coupled
with
the
non-‐linguistic
representations
featuring
North
American
flora
and
fauna
as
well
as
images
of
exclusively
Caucasian-‐looking
characters.
As
shown,
VLL
might
equally
be
painted
by
the
absence
of
linguistic
and
non-‐linguistic
elements.
12
The World Wide Web Consortium (W3C), founded at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Laboratory for Computer Science in 1994, continues to develop Web standards carrying out a mission “to
interact with text and images from an ever-growing pool of information ‘to ensure long-term growth of the
Web’”; URL: http://www.w3org/Consortium
and
click,
instantaneously
access
an
enormous
amount
of
information.
However,
existing
technology
and
the
Web
browsers
were
not
yet
able
to
offer
the
more
collaborative
approach
visualized
by
Berners-‐Lee,
which,
he
noted,
“required
much
more
of
a
social
change
in
how
people
worked”
(Berners-‐Lee
&
Fischetti
2000,
p.
57).
3.5 Summary
The
virtual
linguistic
landscape
is
both
a
metaphor
and
a
phenomenon
in
its
own
right.
In
this
chapter,
it
has
been
argued
that
linguistic
communication
in
cyberspace
not
only
inherits
a
number
of
salient
features
from
the
way
we
communicate
in
the
physical
world,
but
our
interaction
in
digital
spaces
also
emulates
qualities
afforded/constrained
by
the
world
of
the
intangible
materiality
of
bits,
thus
outlining
unique
linguistic
cyberecology.
The
next
chapter
turns
to
the
core
case
study,
exemplifying
VLL
from
below.