SILLY LINGUISTICS THE MAGAZINE FOR LANGUAGE LOVERS

Shakespeare Said

The Words & Phrases Attributed to William Shakespeare

OCCITAN’S The Gif

REPRESENTATIONS Pronunciatio
n
IN FRANCE Debate

THE MAGAZINE FOR LANGUAGE LOVERS : ISSUE #32 : JANUARY 2021

 CONTENTS

03
DIARY OF A (STUDENT) TEACHER
BY GIULIA RAUS
05
SHAKESPEARE SAID: THE WORDS &
PHRASES ATTRIBUTED TO WILLIAM
SHAKESPEARE
BY CATHERINE MUXWORTHY
09
HUNGARIAN: AGGLUTINATION AS A
VARIABLE DEVICE
BY JOE ROBINSON
15
THE GIF PRONUNCIATION DEBATE:
BY DAVID WELLS
20
OCCITAN’S REPRESENTATIONS IN
FRANCE
BY VALENTIN PRADELOU
25
THE CABINET OF LINGUISTIC
CURIOSITIES: A REVIEW
BY HOLLY GUSTAFSON
Cover page photo by No Sweat Shakespeare
Content page photo by Prateek Katyal on Unsplash
This week's page numbers are in Occitan!

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 3 \ tres

D iar y of a
(studen t) T ea cher
BY GIULIA RAUS
Buon Natale! Joyeux Noël! Merry Christmas everyone! We are close to saying
goodbye to the weirdest year ever and I believe I am not the only one excited.
As a teacher I am finishing this year with an annoying sore throat because I
have been shouting and talking like never in my life.

Looking back to all the things done and learnt during this period I can definitely
sum up the most pronounced sentences in my French classes: “I went to Paris
once and everyone spoke to me in English” “why do we even need French?” “it
would be easier if everyone in the world spoke one language so that I don’t
have to study languages at school” “I don’t get it”.

EVERYONE, in the UK said these sentences at least once and believe me after
five hours of this every day, yes you get sick of it. And I don’t want to be mean
because I do love my students but from this brand-new generation, always
connected and updated I am definitely expecting more.

As a student I used to ask myself why the teachers couldn’t always understand
us like they have never been teenagers, I always dreamt about one lovely
teacher ready to let us listen to music and make us dream with descriptions of
faraway lands and stories about different cultures. Remembering my dreams as
a student I wanted to become that type of languages teacher, rich with my
experiences and my knowledge and passion. I walked into the school happy to
share everything and inspire the new generation. And as you can imagine, it
didn’t quite go as I planned.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
4 \ quatre

I know, I know, I made the same mistake every newbie makes, we start with the idea to
change the world and we always end up wounded and depressed because it is harder than
we thought. Nevertheless, I do believe that we are not really helped or supported by the
society that surround us or, to better say it, sometimes our path is harder because the
information around not always is true, useful or exhaustive.

I would like to start talking about Brexit, yes, my friends Brexit is still happening and here in
the UK doesn’t seem to be clear to everyone what does this mean. It didn’t seem to be clear
in 2016 and nothing seemed to be changed right now. According to some researches made
by the BBC and the NPR website the most looked up question on Google after the poll
closed was “what does it mean to leave the EU?” and then “what is the EU?” which is quite
worrying since people already voted for what was the destiny of their country. I am writing
this to let you understand my point. Even if there is part of the young generation that
believes in the benefits given by the EU and started the trend on twitter not in my name
another massive part of their peers don’t know what is happening and how is going to affect
the UK.

When they ask me the already mentioned question “why do we even need French?” now
more than ever I answer “because of Brexit” and every time they look at me confused and
lost to then add “why?” “Because my dear unfortunately your country it’s not the center of
the world (as many of them believe) there are other countries in the EU and the majority of
them don’t have English as their first language. To be clearer, according to The Guardian
even if English is the most spread language in the world, in the EU there are no countries
that have English as first or even second language, even Ireland gives Irish Gaelic as their
first language and Malta gives Maltese. Nevertheless, as I already mentioned in my other
articles, English every more often considered as Lingua Franca, even in the ex-colonies
(such as India) English is considered as a neutral language. However, this type of English is
not the proper English itself, it’s an English used to be understood in international context
and as such it could be soon replaced by French that actually, before the UK joined the EU,
used to be the official language of the organization.

So yes, my dear students, and my dear new generation please open your mind, and try to
understand that knowing a language is an immense privilege and now more than ever could
be the key for a brighter future, for better understanding and for union more than
separation.

And after this nice thought I get taken back to the reality like JD in Scrubs when he
fantasize about a better word (if you don’t get the simile you are a bad person!!), by my
worried student saying “oh my god I am not ready to speak French to my parents! I will
never understand them!!”

I guess there still lots of room for improvement…

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 53 \ cinc
\ tres

Shakespeare
Said:
The Words & Phrases
Attributed to William
Shakespeare

By Catherine Muxworthy

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
6 \ sièis
E nglish playwright, actor, and
poet, William Shakespeare, also
known simply as ‘The Bard’ is
often considered one of the
greatest writers in the English
language and considered
internationally as one of the
world’s greatest dramatists.
His plays have been translated
into every major modern
language and they are still
performed, studied and
reinterpreted to this day. Many
of the words we still today are
thought to be invented by
Shakespeare or at least first used
in his plays. While it is not
certain that these words should
be attributed to William
Shakespeare, they are around
422 words that often credited to
the writer and these are just a
few of the most commonly used
ones.
January 2021, Issue #32
Admirable
Something that deserves respect
or admiration. For example, the act
of being honest is an admirable
quality.
Barefaced
Often used when describing a lie,
telling a barefaced lie is one that is
shameless and without any kind of
concealment or disguise and,
therefore, it is not a very good lie.
Fair play
“Yes, for a score of kingdoms you
should wrangle, And I would call it,
fair play.” – Merchant of Venice. Fair
play is used to describe something
which follows the rules, whether
these are unwritten such as the
unspoken rules of being a good
friend or rules that are part of a
competition or sports games.
Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers

Dawn
“That beats upon the high shore of this
world. No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous
ceremony, Not all these, laid in bed
majestical, Can sleep so soundly as the
wretched slave, Who, with a body filled
and vacant mind, Gets him to rest,
crammed with distressful bread; Never
sees horrid night, the child of hell, But,
like a lackey, from the rise to set Sweats
in the eye of Phoebus, and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn,
Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,
And follows so the ever-running year.” -
Henry V
First popularized in the play, Henry V and
also used in Henry IV, the word dawn is
still in very common usage when
describing the first appearance of light in
the morning when the sun rises.
Watchdog
A person or group that keeps a close
watch over something to uncover
illegal or wrongful behavior. The idea
of a watchdog first appeared in the
form of actual dogs, in The Tempest
in which Shakespeare wrote, “The
watch-dogs bark!” In contemporary
society, popular watchdogs include;
PETA and, of course, the aptly
named crime watch TV show, the
BBC’s Watchdog.
January 2021, Issue #32
7 \ sèt
“All that glitters
isn’t gold”
A phrase that we would still use after
we discover that something that
initially looked great isn’t as good as
it first appeared. In Shakespeare’s
The Merchant of Venice, he wrote,
“All that glitters is not gold; Often
have you heard that told: Many a
man his life hath sold But my outside
to behold: Gilded tombs do worms
enfold. Had you been as wise as
bold.”
Break the Ice
This term is often used in regard to
meeting someone for the first time,
you will ‘break the ice’ between them
by asking polite questions about
themselves and/or making small talk.
The phrase was first used in
Shakespeare’s play, The Taming of
the Shrew in which the playwright
wrote; “If it be so, sir, that you are the
man Must stead us all, and me
amongst the rest, And if you break
the ice and do this feat, Achieve the
elder, set the younger free For our
access, whose hap shall be to have
her Will not so graceless be to be
ingrate.”
Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
8 \ uèch
Devil Incarnate
You may use this phrase to
describe someone who you
strongly dislike, someone who is
evil, scheming and therefore, like a
reincarnated devil. First used in
Shakespeare’s blood-thirsty play,
Titus Andronicus in 1588 in which
he wrote, “O worthy Goth, this is
the incarnate devil That robb'd
Andronicus of his good hand.”
Shakespeare also used it again in
1598 in his play Henry V in which
he wrote, “Boy: Yes, that a' did; and
said they were devils incarnate.”
A laughing stock
You will be considered a laughing
stock if you have done something
to make a fool of yourself and
therefore are considered a joke by
many people. For example, if you
were accepting an award and fell
on stage, you may feel like a
laughing stock amongst your peers
who are watching on. In
Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of
Windsor the character Sir High
Evans says, “Pray you let us not be
laughing-stocks to other men's
humours; I desire you in friendship,
and I will one way or other make
you amends.”
So, how many of these common words and phrases did you know were
first used in Shakespearean English?
January 2021, Issue #32
It's Greek to me
A phrase still used today to describe
something you don’t understand,
when you admit ‘It’s all Greek to
me,” you are basically saying that it’s
a language you don’t know and
therefore you don’t understand
what is being said. Shakespeare
made this phrase popular in his play
Julius Caesar, in which Casca says of
a speech by Senaca – which is
deliberately given in Greek so some
people wouldn’t understand – “For
mine own part, it was Greek to me."
Wild-goose Chase
Wild-goose chase was first used by
Shakespeare in his romantic tragedy,
Romeo and Juliet, in which the Bard
wrote “Nay, if our wits run the wild-
goose chase, I am done; For thou
hast more of the wild goose in one of
thy wits Than, I am sure, I have in my
whole five. Was I with you There for
the goose?” The quote came from
the character Mercutio and he was
effectively telling Romeo that he
couldn’t keep up with Romero
changing topics so often. This
expression is still used to describe
when someone leads you on a wild
chase to find them or some
information.
Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 9 \ nòu

Hungarian:
as a Variable Device
Agglutination

By Joe Robinson
Photo by Alana Harris (top) and Liam McKay (bottom) on Unsplash

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
10 \ dètz
S o, it’s finally happening. A couple of years of
language enthusiast status and a good year and
a half of German learning by immersion, I am
taking on one of Europe’s bonafide Behemoths:
I’m going to tell you about Hungarian. The
Hungarian language is notorious for being
incredibly hard to learn and has features not
found in many other European languages. This
article will take you through some of these
features and also raise an interesting question:
is the concept of an ‘agglutinative’ language
absolute?
The first thing we need to get out of the way is
the bit about difference. Hungarian is rather
unlike other European languages because it is
actually not an Indo-European language. It
belongs to the Ugric branch of the Uralic
language family and is actually a distant cousin
of Finnish and Estonian (both of these belong
to the Finnic branch of the family). The
Magyars (what the Hungarians call themselves)
were originally a nomadic tribe from, you
guessed it, the Ural Mountains region and
settled in the Carpathian Basin in around the
9th century.
Also, whilst Hungarian shares many
similarities as far as structure is concerned, the
former two are not mutually intelligible to it.
It’s sort of like a Brit listening to a Dutch
person, the form of the language is similar, but
they don’t understand what is being said. Got
it? Good, now let’s move on to some features.
January 2021, Issue #32
A large factor in what makes Hungarian so
difficult to learn is the grammatical devices it
employs. Firstly, the use of personal suffixes to
indicate the verb “to be” is present in
Hungarian: an example of this is the phrase “I
don’t speak Hungarian” Nem beszélek magyarul.
Hungarian is pro-drop, so the 1st person
singular “I” Én, does not need to be present. So,
the verb beszél (to speak) needs a suffix
denoting the 1st person singular én, one can
then read this as if it were a pronoun to
determine who we are talking about.
Thus, a word-for-word translation would be
“No Hungarian speak-am”. Once you get used
to reading the verb “to be” in suffix form as the
pronoun, it becomes easier to identify the
subject. You also need to get accustomed to
reading suffixes all the time, as we shall see
later. This can take a while if your native
language does not utilise this system, but you’ll
get there with practice.
But of course, that is not it. This is Hungarian
and if you thought it was going to be that
simple, you are in for some disappointment!
Each pronoun’s “to be” suffix can take not one,
not two but six different forms.
Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 11 \ onze

Why is this? Well, Hungarian has two categories of conjugation: definite and indefinite. Definite is
used when the verb can take a direct object, like the verb ‘to eat’ in ‘I eat the apple’ for example. On
the other hand, indefinite is used if the verb cannot take a direct object in the given context, for
example “they were running”. The latter is the variant I used in the previous paragraph.

To add to this, Hungarian features a concept called Vowel Harmony. This means that the vowel you
use in the suffix is dictated by its ‘harmony’ with the vowel in the verb stem. There are two main
types of stem vowels: front vowels and back vowels. Additionally, there is a third category for stems
which contain the vowels ö/ő and ü/ű. Here’s a helpful table to (hopefully) alleviate head scratching:

Pronoun suffix
(definite then Back vowels: a, Front vowels: e, ö,ő/ü,ű
á, o, ó, u, ú é, i, í, ö, ő, ü, ű
indefinite)

1st person om/ok em/ek öm

2nd person od/sz – or ‘L’ with ed öd

‘sz’ verb endings

3rd person ja/none i/none jak -ik/none

You’ll notice that I haven’t used any plural suffixes here. I want to keep it simple so as not to hit you
with too much technical stuff, that way we can focus on exploring the question I posed earlier
regarding agglutination. Where does this come from? The ‘agglutination’ hypothesis was proposed
by linguist Martin Haspelmath and challenges the idea of morphology categorisation. He rightly
points out that this is a fairly recent phenomenon formulated in the early 1800’s, mainly by a handful
of German linguists.

The need to categorise languages increased in the wake of the explosion of nationalism in Europe
that began around this time; it ultimately caused the concept of a ‘national’ language to become
popular and grow into what we know today. But not everyone is convinced that this doctrine holds
up today.

Okay, with that whistle stop tour of Hungarian grammar over with, why don’t we discuss a bit more
of the Agglutination Hypothesis and see what it’s all about?

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
12 \ dotze
As I outlined previously, the idea of
categorising languages was drawn up in the
early 19th century. It was then popularised in
the 1850’s – 1870’s and mainly focuses on three
groups: isolate (one morpheme per word),
agglutination (many morphemes stuck
together) and fusional (where the divisions
between morphemes are obscured). You may
ask what a ‘morpheme’ is. It’s simply the
smallest possible semantic ‘piece’ of
information a language offers.
Some examples in English would be -ing, -ly, -
ed and -s. As these suffixes need to be attached
to a stem to function, English cannot be
considered a purely isolate (or analytical)
language and is instead deemed a fusional
language. This is because it incorporates both
affix/suffix morphemes but cannot ‘stick
together’ multiple morphemes to express
complex concepts. But it does stand that a
fusional language can use inflection to convey
pieces of information. Thus, the fundamental
premise of the ‘hypothesis’ is that
agglutination is a concept that can and should
be tested, not a hard and fast rule.
Before he runs the test, Haspelmath first
predicts that any language which shows
agglutination in one area will invariably show
it in others. Upon raising this point, he
immediately excludes an aspect of language
from his analysis: affix alteration. Why? Well,
think of the number of affixes we encounter all
the time warmer (intensification) Große
(adjective inflected for feminine form), les
œuvres (Plural form).
This kind of alteration exists in Hungarian too;
we have already seen it in fact with the vowel
harmony and definite/indefinite conjugations
January 2021, Issue #32
from earlier and can be considered fusional,
not agglutinative. Throughout his analysis,
there are three distinct characteristic
groupings of which 30 languages from a
diverse range of families are compared.
Interestingly, when the ‘average’ marks of
agglutination results are revealed, Hungarian
ranks 25th out of 30th. In addition, he marks
the language with an asterisk which is he
terms languages labelled agglutinative “in
literature”. So why such a low score then? Let’s
investigate a bit.
Taking the ‘most agglutinating’ language that
has been ‘marked out’ as such by the asterisk
(Turkish), we can do a little side by
comparison. So, let’s take a simple sentence
like ‘I am going to the shop”, in Hungarian we
have this:
Elmegyek a boltba – “going-am the shop-to”
And in Turkish: markete gidyorum – “shop
(market) going-am”
You will notice here to both languages have
similar characteristics. Firstly, they are pro-
drop languages, although Turkish less so. Both
languages feature vowel harmony; the
personal suffix um in the Turkish is used to
harmonise with the vowel ‘o’ in its stem noun.
Without digressing too much, the rules for
Turkish vowel harmony are a little different.
The vowel “o” in the back position can be
classed as either strong or round and suffix
vowels only ever harmonise with the ‘back’
vowel.
But our sample sentence reveals one small
difference, Hungarian features a definite
article ‘the’ with a and Turkish does not. But a
Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 13 \ tretze

rather minute factor is not the strongest indicator of a divergence in the amount of agglutination.
For example, the negative behaves in a different way in Turkish, as seen in this sentence “I am not a
doctor”

Hungarian: Nem vagyok orvos – Not am doctor

Turkish: Ben doctor değilum – I doctor not-am

We can see two differences here, the first being something I alluded to earlier. Turkish is a pro-drop
language, but it seems that when it comes to simple sentences such as these, the personal pronoun
is in fact used. The second difference is that the negative in Turkish requires the personal suffix,
whereas Hungarian employs it as a standalone morpheme. By definition, this makes the Turkish
version of this sentence more agglutinative. Still not convinced? Take a look at a longer sentence like
“I am not going to the city”

Hungarian: Nem megyek a varósba – not going-am the city-to

Turkish: Şehre gitmiyorum – to-city am-not-going

In this sentence, Turkish is clearly more agglutinative. This is down to the fact that Turkish verbs
have a negative conjugation – gitmiyorum – compared to gidiyorum that we saw earlier. You will
notice a change in the Turkish. The 1st person Ben has been dropped, whereas Hungarian’s one-
word negation is never changing. Also, from the literal translation break down, we can see that
Turkish displays a near-perfect definition of agglutination: little pieces of information ‘glued’
together. Again, we can see clear agglutination in both languages, but more in Turkish.

After this interesting, albeit brief, analysis of the two languages, maybe it’s to make this judgement:
a language might not be fully ‘agglutinating’ but that shouldn’t stop us from referring to it as such.
Surely, you’d agree with me that the fact that a language can display agglutination is the part that
matters.

A drumkit is known to be a ‘loud’ instrument because it has the ability to be and often is. But that
doesn’t mean that it has to be all the time, right? In the same way, these two languages certainly
agglutinate much of the time, but there are instances where they do not, and share features
common amongst fusional languages (whilst both share features amongst analytical languages).

The idea that fusional language be characterised as such is just because they very rarely do
something akin to ‘agglutination’, and, when they do, it is normally a small detail like a personal
suffix. Languages such as English and Spanish can simply do no more. We will not see a preposition
or connective attached to a verb in either of these languages and thus they cannot be classed as
Agglutinating. The languages we just looked at can do more agglutination and therefore it makes
sense that they be called ‘agglutinating’ languages.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
14 \ catòrze

There is something to take away from this

though. Due to the centuries-long presence of
the Ottoman Empire in South-Eastern
Europe, Western scholars became well
acquainted with the Turkish language
(although less ‘Turkic’ than today’s Turkish).
Hapselmath points out that this led them to
characterise languages such as Hungarian as
“Turkish-like” due to their shared, capacity for
agglutination, irrespective of how frequently it
may occur. Also, it’s not a mere coincidence
that these two languages share concepts such
as vowel harmony; another ‘asterisked’
language Swahili also uses this.

So, it’s important that we don’t paint

languages with the same brush, but also
recognise the similarities they share and the
ability to ‘loosely’ categorise. That’s why I
think that it’s a good idea to preserve the term
‘agglutination’ to demonstrate a function both
of these languages can perform, whilst at the
same time not expecting the same level of
performance from both. In closing: yes,
Hungarian is an agglutinating language, but it
should be seen as a feature of the language
rather than an overarching form.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
cuatro 15 \ quinze

THE GIF
PRONUNCIATION
DEBATE:
By David Wells

A battle has raged since the dawn of time over the pronunciation of a

certain word. Well, not the dawn of time, exactly, but almost since the

dawn of the internet. For those of us living in the 21st century, those

might as well be the same thing. The word at the heart of this

ongoing feud is actually an acronym, but people who know little

about computer graphics use it as a word.

I am talking, of course, about “GIF,” and the oft-acrimonious dispute

between those who pronounce it with a hard “g” (“ghif”) or a soft “g”

(“jif”). Both sides have declared victory many times, and yet neither

side is likely ever to admit defeat.

I have my own view on the correct pronunciation of “GIF,” but that is

not why I am here. I am interested in why the letters “g” and “i,” when

placed together in English words, can be pronounced so many

different ways. The seemingly unpredictable pronunciation rules of

the English language are most likely why the GIF pronunciation battle

exists in the first place.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
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16 \ setze

What Is a GIF?
Let us begin with a brief bit of history. The term “GIF” stands for “Graphics

Interchange Format.” It is a format for digital image files. A development team

at the online service provider CompuServe created the format and first made it

available on June 15, 1987.

The term “GIF” has now gained widespread usage online, particularly in

reference to image files that show short bits of video or animation, commonly

known as “animated GIFs.” If you would like to know more about the image

format itself, I have now told you everything I know.

How Do You Pronounce “G,” Anyway?

Before we dive into the kerfuffle over how to pronounce “GIF,” we should

consider how we pronounce the letter “g” in the first place. About the only

definite rule one can say is that “g” is never a vowel. Looking at the various types

of phonemes we find in English, “g” can be:

A plosive/stop: gather, grab, get, go, aggravate;

An affricate: giant, general, legend;

A nasal stop: sing, long, ringer;

A voiceless fricative: laugh, rough; and

A voiced fricative: genre.

Note that some of these uses of “g” are subject to fairly strict rules. The letter is

only associated with a voiceless fricative, for example, when it comes at the end

of a syllable, followed by “h”, e.g. “tough.” The source of the dispute that is at

issue here is how to pronounce “g” when it is followed by “e.”

When “G” Is Hard

Sometimes, a “g” followed by an “e” is pronounced like a hard “g,” also known

as a voiced velar stop. You make this sound by stopping the flow of air with the

back of your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

As a general rule, English words of Germanic origin use a hard “g” before both

“e” and “i.” For example:

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
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Get, from the Old Norse word geta: “to obtain, reach; to be

able to; to beget; to learn; to be pleased with”;

Gift, probably also from Old Norse; and

Git, a derogatory term in British slang, derives from the

Scots language.

A hard “g” may occur in words more recently loaned from other languages, such

as “geisha,” from Japanese. Somewhat amusingly, the word “Germanic” does

not use a hard “g,” because it is not derived from Germanic sources. It comes to

us from Latin.

When “G” Is Soft

English words derived from Greek or Latin sources tend to use a soft “g” before

“e,” “i,” or “y.” Linguists might call this a voiced post-alveolar affricate. It is the

same sound made by the letter “j” most of the time in English. Examples include:

General, originally from the Latin generalis: “relating to all,

of a whole class”;

Giant, which comes from the from Old French geant, or

earlier jaiant: “giant, ogre”;

Legend, from the Old French legende and Medieval Latin

legenda; and

Gymnasium, from the from Latin gymnasium, or the Greek

gymnasion.

There are some exceptions that involve words originating from Greek. The word

“gynecology,” for example, is Greek by way of French, but uses a hard “g.”

Another exception, maybe, is the prefix “giga-,” meaning “billion.” It comes from

the Greek gigas, or "giant." The consensus among English speakers, at least in

the United States, is that “giga-” uses a hard “g,” but anyone who has seen the

1985 film Back to the Future knows that this has not always been the case. Doc

Brown exclaims “1.21 gigawatts” using a soft “g” at the beginning of the word.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
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18 \ dètz-e-uèch

How to Pronounce “GIF”

It seems fair to say that “GIF” has attained the status of a “word” in the English

language. This occurred by consensus. People kept using “GIF” to refer to

certain types of digital images, until nearly anyone who has ever used a

computer or the internet, and who speaks English, knows the word “GIF.” That is

how sounds become words.

English speakers lack consensus, however, on how to pronounce “GIF.” Usually,

the pronunciation of a new word is based on its origin. If a new word derives

from another word, be it in English or another language, we tend to use the

pronunciation of that word. “Ginormous,” for example, is a portmanteau of

“giant” (or “gigantic”) and “enormous.” It indicates something so big that neither

word is sufficient to describe it. We pronounce it with a soft “g” because “giant”

uses a soft “g” sound.

“GIF,” when observed in isolation from the context of its creation, has no obvious

basis in the English language — or any other language, for that matter. It is not

derived from “gift,” nor from any other words that contain those letters in that

order. It is a blank slate for people to pronounce as they please, and they most

certainly have done so.

Arguments for a Soft-G GIF

We cannot look to etymology or history for guidance in pronouncing “GIF.” What

we can do is ask the person who coined the term.

Steve Wilhite led the team at CompuServe that created the Graphics

Interchange Format in 1987. Twenty-six years later, Wilhite received a Webby

Award in recognition of this accomplishment. His acceptance speech was five

words long: “It’s pronounced JIF, not GIF.”

For many, this was enough to settle the dispute once and for all. For others, not

so much.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
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Arguments for a Hard-G GIF

We could argue over authorial intent for the rest of the day. Is the view of the

person who essentially invented the GIF really the final word on how to

pronounce its acronym-turned-name? There is another way of looking at it.

“GIF,” as we have already established, stands for “Graphics Interchange

Format.” That first word, “graphics,” uses a hard “g.” As others have noted

facetiously, no one pronounces it “jraphics.” For some, this establishes that “GIF”

has a hard “g.”

Does that settle it? Are acronyms pronounced based on the words they

abbreviate? As it turns out, not always.

Most people refer to the World Health Organization by the letters of its acronym,

meaning they call it “the W.H.O.” Some people pronounce it “the Hoo,” despite

the potential confusion with the classic rock band. Mind you, any disagreement

over this pronunciation is purely a product of the WHO’s increased prominence

in 2020. It is not likely to persist, one hopes, once the COVID pandemic recedes

into memory. The point is that the pronunciation of an acronym does not always

have to match the pronunciation of the first word.

So which is it? Like I said, I have my opinion. You probably have yours. And on it

goes.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
20 \ vint

Occitan’s
Representations
in France
By Valentin Pradelou

Photo by Stevie Ekkelkamp on Unsplash

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
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Introduction
Occitan is an historic language spoken mostly in France, but also in Italy or even Spain.
It is also close to Catalan, so much so that certain linguists choose to define Catalan as
some sort of an Occitan dialect.

From a report published in 2013, we can see that Occitan was the most spoken regional
language in France. It is also a big cultural language. Occitan was, in the Middle Ages,
an important language, especially in administrative and juridic fields. In the 13th
century, Occitan was a scientific language and was even used for international
commercial exchanges. Then, France tended to erase Occitan by applying laws in favor
of the sole use of French. Still today, the French language is the only officially accepted
language in France.

Unfortunately, Occitan has lost speakers, and is even today considered to be

threatened. In an article from Guzman in 2008, we can learn that Occitan’s
transmission from family to family has been heavily stopped in the 20th century. In
another article, this time from Bourgoin in 2013, it’s possible to read a short story
about a pupil in a high-school talking “patois” in a classroom (pejorative way to talk
about a dialect, or even a language). The professor, hearing this, tells him to stop
immediately because “we don’t speak patois at school”.

Occitan is then in a particular context in France. On the first hand, we have a lot of
people acting for its survival, learning the language and pledging for events and so on.
On the other hand, we unfortunately have a lot of people for which this language is just
a useless “patois”. In the article from Guzman, this language is even considered the
language of “underdeveloped”, “elder”, or only “rural” people.

Thus, we decided to conduct a survey. We wanted to verify these representations, and

hope it’ll be different, in the French departments of Dordogne and Gironde. These
departments are situated in southwest of France and have been very close to Occitan in
their history.

Through a questionnaire consisting of 14 questions, we had 109 answers about the

representations of Occitan. This is what we’re going to present here, through a
translation as the survey was conducted in French. We’ll first introduce the
questionnaire and its different questions, before analyzing the different answers.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
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About the questionary

It was made of 14 questions. Four of these 14 questions were used to get pieces of
information about the respondents (age, languages spoken, gender, and region of
origin).

Questions were about what the people know about Occitan (words known in this
language, famous writers or politic figures known, and known works in Occitan). This
was about contextualizing the representations of the respondents: good/bad
representations could be considered by the acknowledgement about Occitan.

And finally, we had questions about their thoughts on the language (what do you think
of Occitan, do you think Occitan is a language, a dialect or a patois).

Who are the respondents?

As we have said in the introduction, respondents to this questionnaire come from south
of France, especially Dordogne and Gironde.

There are a lot more women responding with a percentage of 78% against only 22% of
men. Amongst them, every age bracket was here, the youngest was 14 and the eldest
was 89. This sample had little link to Occitan though. Only a little more of 20% said
they speak Occitan, for almost 80% not speaking it.

Even if the majority does not speak Occitan, they appear to have a certain awareness
about this language. First, 62.4% of them told us they had relatives speaking Occitan.

With the questions about what the people know in Occitan, we had plenty of answers! A
large number of the respondents told us about radio shows in Occitan, books,
grammars, dramas, movies, tales, dances, fun stories. They gave us several expressions
as well. They have also been able to cite a good number of public figures related to this
language. We can cite some as Daniel Chavaroche or Jean-Paul Verdier, well-known
Occitan storytellers, or even Nadau, a very famous music band.

Our respondents can be of any age, most of the time don’t speak the language but do
know things about it. In this context, what could be their representations about Occitan?

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 23 \ vint-e-tres

Their representations about Occitan

The respondents had to give three answers in order to show what they think about this
language. We’ll analyze the answers of the three following questions. First, “To you, is
Occitan a patois, a dialect, or a language?”. Secondly, “Which image do you have of this
language?”, and thirdly, “Would you like to learn it?”.

To you, is Occitan a patois, a dialect or a language?

This question was pretty representative. In people’s minds, there appears to be a clear
distinction between these three notions. CNTRL defines a patois as some kind of oral
linguistic code, spoken locally or in local groups, especially rural. It’s also a pretty
pejorative way to talk about a language.

A dialect is a little more meliorative. For the CNTRL, it is considered as a language form
between a patois and an actual language. Its principal difference with the patois would
the fact of being written. The site doesn’t forget to talk about it as a particular form of a
language.

Finally, a language would be, still to the CNTRL, an abstract signs system. If we follow
this very definition, both patois and dialect are languages as well.

Unfortunately, respondents weren’t mostly thinking so. 57% told us Occitan was a
patois, 32% told us it was a dialect, and only 11% that it’s a language. We can easily
assume that most of respondents don’t really know the precise definitions of these
notions: Occitan is a written and spoken language, used in almost a half of France.

Here, it seems that people have a pretty bad representations of this language. It has to
be pondered though: most of them might not use “patois” or “dialect” in a pejorative
way, but only to mean this language is not very spoken anymore.

Which image do you have of this language?

This question has very interesting answers as it almost goes 50/50 with negative and
positive views. Positive answers seem to be more present, as not all answers are black
or white. A large number of answers were also like “I don’t really know”.

Thus, negative answers were the following. Respondents told us it was a dead language,
only spoken by old people or country dwellers. It seems kind of shocking as the answer
of a “dead language” or “not used anymore” is clearly far from reality. It’s true this
language is less used than before though.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
24 \ vint-e-quatre

However, a good number of answers were positive. People told us this language was
friendly, catching, close to people’s life (certain answers claimed more than French, for
example). Other said that this language is convivial and a part of a cultural identity, and
remained to be preserved.

Would you like to learn it?

As for the image about Occitan, it goes about 50/50, with unfortunately a little more of
negative answers.

When respondents answered “No”, it had different versions. It went from the simple
“No” to the capital “NO”, with sometimes a little bit more information (like “I’m not
interested”, “It’s not useful”, for example).

When they said “Yes”, it’s also graduated. It goes from “Why not”, to “Yes”.
Sometimes, they sharpen their mind. For example, some said they wanted to “widen
[their] culture”, “discuss with the old”, or they’d learn it “because it belongs to [their]
cultural roots”. In general, respondents had mixed feelings about Occitan.

Conclusion

As we’ve seen in all the questions, respondents have mixed feelings about Occitan. If
they were a lot to answer positively to their representations of the language, they
weren’t the majority to answer positively to learn the language.

It is interesting, as all age brackets are represented, and people are coming from very
Occitan influenced French Departments. We could then consider these answers as
pretty representative, even if only coming from a sample of 109 people.

It seems that Occitan is unfortunately losing ground. Having a majority of negative

answers about a language influencing a Department is not really reassuring. But there is
hope, as we have also noticed that plenty of the respondents wanted to defend this
language.

Every language is part of a culture, customs, ways of thinking, and so. It would be a pity
to not defend regional languages as they are a good example of diversity.

Thanks for reading!

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 25 \ vint-e-cinc

The Cabinet of
Linguistic
Curiosities

A Review

By Holly Gustafson

Photo by Ji Woo Park on Unsplash

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
26 \ vint-e-sièis
If you turn to the entry of June 7th in Paul
Anthony Jones’ book, The Cabinet of Linguistic
Curiosities: A Yearbook of Forgotten Words, you’ll
find the following:
Wunderkammer (n.) a collection of oddities; a
room set aside for just such a collection
And The Cabinet of Linguistic Curiosities is just
that – a charming collection of odd and
antiquated words, in which the author presents
a new linguistic treasure for every day of the
year. At the end of the book – and the year –
you’ll have hundreds of new vocabulary words
with which to impress your fellow verbivores:
For example, to twankle is to play idly on a
musical instrument, and appears as the entry
for February 3rd, the same day that, in 1877,
“The Celebrated Chop Waltz,” better knows as
“Chopsticks,” was first published.
The adorable word poppin is a noun meaning ‘a
doll or toy,’ and appears as an entry for March
9th, the day that the very first Barbie dolls went
on display at the American Toy Fair in New York
in 1959.
On May 24th, the day Samuel Morse revealed his
innovative system for telegraphing coded
messages in Washington in 1844, you’ll find
iddy-umpty, another word for Morse Code (and
a much better one at that, in my opinion).
Anabiosis, from Greek ana (‘again’) and bios
(‘life’), refers to a revival, a resurrection, or a
coming back to life, and appears on August
30th, the birthday of Mary Shelley, author of
Frankenstein.
January 2021, Issue #32
Speaking of birthdays, the word beaglepuss is a
noun that describes, rather specifically, ‘a pair
of novelty glasses with a fake nose, eyebrows
and moustache attached,’ and appears on
October 2nd, the birthday of, not surprisingly at
all, Groucho Marx.
The word parietines means ‘fallen or ruined
walls,’ and appears on November 9th, the day
that, in 1989, after a series of revolutions and
waves of political change, the government of
East Germany announced that its citizens were
finally free to travel to West Berlin and West
Germany. Berliners immediately began tearing
down the wall that had divided the city for nearly
forty years, and within five days, the Berlin Wall
was nothing but parietines.
Solastalgia refers to the mental distress or
nostalgia caused by change in one’s
environment. Jones includes this noun on April
22nd, which also happens to be Earth Day, since
the word, a combination of the Latin word
solacium (‘comfort’) and the Greek root -algia
(‘pain’), describes the anguish or distress
experienced by someone whose home has
changed around them as a direct result of
environmental change, like rising sea levels,
desertification, or ecological catastrophes like
oil spills or pollution.
“Someone experiencing solastagia, ultimately,
need not have left their home in order to
experience a longing for the past,” explains
Jones, which is a feeling to which most of us,
having endured nearly a full year of pandemic-
induced upheavals, might be able to relate.
(Another pandemic-themed entry is the verb
basiate, which means ‘to kiss,’ and appears as
Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 27 \ vint-e-sèt

the entry for July 16th, the day when, in 1439,

English parliament issued a ban on kissing in
order to control an outbreak of the Black Death.
The ban remained in place until the ‘plague
season’ was over.)

Although Jones’ list of 366 words (the word

bissext, which refers to ‘the extra day added to a
leap year,’ appears, predictably, on February
29th) is full of many interesting and unusual
words that the average speaker may have
difficulty work into his or her everyday
vocabulary, there are a couple of words that I’ll
be making an intentional effort to ensconce into
my own personal lexicon, and they both appear
near the end of the year. The noun yule-hole
refers to “the hole you must move your belt
buckle to after eating Christmas lunch,” and
appears, obviously, on December 25th, followed
the next day by the word crapulence, that post-
Christmas ‘feeling of sickness caused by
overeating or drinking.’

All in all, Jones’ book is precisely what he set out

to create – a lovely Wunderkabinett to be opened
and explored daily, full to the brim of
linguistically delightful odds and ends, none of
which are too terribly useful, but all of which are
entirely enchanting.

Jones, Paul Anthony. (2017) The Cabinet of

Linguistic Curiosities: A Yearbook of Forgotten
Words. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

January 2021, Issue #32 Silly Linguistics: The Magazine for Language Lovers
 Thanks for reading
Silly Linguistics Issue
#32

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