Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Issue #2
Issue #2
By Michael Simpson
Ma-ma, Pa-pa and Ta-ta Eat Your Brain Cells: Greeks to Blame
By Apio Frito
An Overview of the History and Legacy of the Baltic and German Prussians
By Naoki Watanabe
I like Duolingo. I used it everyday off-and-on for nearly five years, minus a few months here
and there, but my bad habits and horrible luck with phones are another story. I am also not
paid to sponsor Duolingo anyway. That being said, I recently came across a weird problem
with the app and its checkpoints feature, notably on German's.
Whenever I stop using Duolingo for a period of time, as is the case when I switch phones, I
will eventually redownload Duolingo, and I would hate the app if it made me start over
everytime I had to create a new account because I forgot my last phone's account password.
The checkpoint feature is nice for that reason. Take a quiz, pick up a lot closer to where
you had been previously, or see how well you would do in the language.
I studied German for a total of four weeks, two in 2015 and two in 2018. How I studied for
those two different time periods could not have been more different. In 2015, I only used the
Duolingo app to study it; in 2018, I used two weeks of LingQ and trying to speak what I knew
to native speakers.
I stopped studying it because I had an intimate opportunity to study Mandarin with a native
tutor and didn't want to try to learn German at the same time. I just picked it back up the
past week, taking a slow approach and just learning basic vocabulary for conversations. I
touched my app and took a test, and I passed... out of nearly 85 percent of the content...
after studying off-and-on for about a month total.
I didn't know half the words I saw in the lessons afterwords, and thought it was weird I could
do ten questions and just go over everything. At least after the first tier of questions on a
lesson, you can retake the lesson and it becomes harder (even if it's a little harder). I guess
I will do that rather than reset the progress. Either way, I definitely won't use the app by
itself to practice or study German.
My language learning methods and habits are incredibly illogical and inconsistent. How I
learn a language really depends on my motivation and what the language is like. Some
languages take a lot less effort to learn for others. What I knew and could speak in
Mandarin after three months was approximately what I knew and could speak in French for
about one month.
I really want to learn Marshallese, an obscure Micronesian language of which I had never
heard before I met five or six Marshallese speakers near the beginning of my current job in
retail. I use Spanish and French on the job to talk with customers, picked up Mandarin
recently for the same, and then decided perhaps it was time to do the same with
Marshallese. A decent number of the speakers here I have met don't speak English terribly
well so it falls on the cashier to provide the excellent customer service much-desired. Time
to learn Marshallese, it was, and then reality slapped me in the face: there are very few good
resources online.
I turned to Memrise, and the amount of vocabulary was rather small. Perhaps enough to
simply learn what I needed to learned but how would I hear the language? I wanted apps to
make my time easier, but I don't like using flashcard apps and prefer talking face-to-face with
people.
There are plenty of resources somewhere if a person will look hard enough, especially for a
penny-pincher like me. I had decided before-hand that the best way to learn the language is
by finding other people to help me with it, and not even Facebook polyglot groups sifted
through the massive wave of people to bring them to the forefront.
So what will I do next? Well, there are plenty of textbooks on the language and I will sit
down and force myself to use flashcards, but, most importantly, I will find the native speakers
here and ask to tutor them in English in exchange for lessons in Marshallese. There's
nothing more I can really do, and, perhaps, I can add a more personal touch to the customer
service experience.
We have here with us Azren the Language Nerd, podcaster, blogger, tutor and all-around
fun guy. This is our first Spotlight interview in which we talk with polyglots of various
accolades about the community at large and their own accomplishments.
M: Firstly, what languages do you speak and how do you use them everyday or regularly?
2. Gujarati (conversational)
This is my mother tongue and I use it almost daily in some capacity. Recently I've been
actively studying this language to improve my level. I'd like to ideally speak Gujarati as well
as I do English, French, and Spanish. I would also like to be able to read and write without
much effort. For this reason, I watch videos and/or do reading practice every couple of days.
M: As a person who creates a lot of online content, do you find your online persona to match
closely with your actual personality, or is there little difference between the two?
A:My online persona is similar enough to my actual personality. A couple differences are
there though: In real life I will do more listening. In my online content, all you see me do is
talk and share my thoughts. My online persona tends to be an energetic version of myself,
while in the "real world" I am not always that high energy.
M: You've remarked many times online how scheduled your life is around your various
employments and languages. Are there times in your life where some languages become, in
a way, soul-consuming or all-encompassing in your life?
A: As a general whole, languages already are all-encompassing. I run language classes for
my work and I make daily content for language learners on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube,
Snapchat, and podcast. On top of this, I am working on improving my fluency in various
languages myself. However, I will say this: once a year, I go "all-in" on one language for a 1-
2 month period. I usually do this by traveling and studying a language abroad. Here are
some of the trips I've made in recent history:
M: Languages aren't just a tool box contact as you know. Being able to see and hear the
culture is a major consequence of learning a language. For example, philosophy. How has
language-learning impacted this question for you: What is the meaning of life and what
makes a life well-lived?
A: This is a deep question! To be honest, I am not sure if language learning has influenced
my beliefs on "the meaning of life" or "what makes a well-lived life". I wish I had a better
answer for you!
M: You have influenced many people through a strong online presence. Are there people
who, through the Internet, have similarly influenced you?
A: Through the internet I'd say the biggest influence has been Gary Vaynerchuk. Keeping up
with his content has shown me the importance of working hard, self-awareness, and most
importantly, being grateful for what I have. In real life, my mom has been my biggest
influence. She’s taught me such great values and has given me the right tools to succeed
and be happy.
M: What do you do to unwind? Do you have particular habits for the end of a long study
session?
Watching movies. In Canada, we have something called a Scene Visa card. Using this credit
card, you collect points that you can use on movie tickets. I don't think I have paid for a
movie in about 7-10 years because of how many points I have (chuckles).
I follow quite a few TV shows. Most of them are superhero shows. I know that they are not
necessarily "great television", but I still enjoy watching them.
I have a rule where I shut off all technology at around 11pm. From then until around 11:30 or
midnight, I take time to calm down and let my mind relax before going to sleep.
M: What are you currently reading, if anything, and what books would you recommend for
the reader?
A: I read books in bursts. The last burst I went through was a few months ago where I read
the Hobbit and the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. Right now I am reading a book about
language learning called Fluent Forever. I am only on the third or fourth chapter, but it is an
insightful read so far.
M: Thank you so much for the interview today, and we greatly appreciate it here at Silly
Linguistics. To follow Azren the Language Nerd, you can find him here:
Website: http://azrenthelanguagenerd.com
Podcast: http://anchor.fm/polyglotazren
YouTube: http://YouTube.com/AzrentheLanguageNerd
Instagram: http://instagram.com/polyglotazren
Facebook: http://facebook.com/polyglotazren
Snapchat: @PolyglotAzren (https://www.snapchat.com/add/polyglotazren)
Medium: http://medium.com/@PolyglotAzren
Tumblr: http://polyglotazren.tumblr.com
When I first learned that English was a Germanic language, I didn't really know what that
meant. English and German seemed nothing alike to me. I wanted to know what it meant to
be a Germanic language. English's history is quite colourful with many of characters and lots
of plot developments.
The reason Modern English is so different to Modern German is because languages change
over time. People learn a language from those around them. If people can move around they
bring their language with them and their speech patterns can affect the speech patterns of
people elsewhere. English and German share a common ancestor, but since there is a sea
between England and Germany any changes that happened in English or German over time
were much less likely to affect the other.
The earliest Germanic peoples were those who had migrated to Scandanavia a few
thousand years ago. They then migrated south into central Europe. Over time many
Germanic tribes sprung up. Some of these tribes, namely the Angles, Saxons and the Jutes
migrated across the English Channel to Britain. Some of the Saxons remained in continental
Europe. There are two states in Germany named after them: Saxony and Lower Saxony.
As these tribes started settling in southern Britain in the 400s their languages started mixing
together. This is the start of the Old English period (also known as Anglo-Saxon). This period
lasted until the invasion of Britain by William the Conqueror in 1066. Old English was much
more similar to even some of the modern Germanic languages than Modern English is.
It was a highly inflected language with 4 cases and had grammatical gender with 3 genders.
After the invasion of Britain by William the Conqueror French was imposed and it took
another two or three centuries for English to start being used in the halls of power again.
English though demoted, lived on amongst the people of England after the invasion.
Eventually conflict with France caused the people of England to use English more and more
until French was no longer the main language used by those in power.
During this time English adopted many words from French and that is part of the reason
German looks so different to English speakers. A lot of the concepts English speakers
discuss are conveyed using words from French, whereas German would probably use a
word descended from the ancestral language of the Germanic tribes.
But all is not lost! English is still a fundamentally Germanic language, even if it looks
different. Modern English doesn't have the same grammatical complexity in terms of cases
or grammatical gender, but it still uses similar syntax and much of the core vocabulary
(words used every day) is descended from the language of the Germanic tribes.
We can find links to the other Germanic languages everywhere if you know where to look.
Over time the way people spoke German changed. When sounds change in a systematic
way, linguists call this a sound shift. The word "give" is a good example.
Linguists call the sound shift that caused this the "High German consonant shift"
If you see a "b", then you might see a "v" in the English word. Here is another example
English: love
German: Liebe
Well, you need to understand the concept of sound shift to understand how English ended
up with this little letter at the end of so many words. Old English did not experience some of
the sound shifts that affected other Germanic languages. "th" becoming "d" is a very
common sound shift that happened in the other Germanic languages that didn't happen in
English probably because the English channel made it more difficult for people to get to
England so the new speech pattern would not have been heard as much and as much
wasn't copied so "th" remained "th" in English. Same with the "w" sound becoming a "v"
sound in the other Germanic languages
But English did change the "g" sound. In Old English, "g" was pronounced like Modern
English "y". Old English "t?dæ?e" sounds relatively close to Modern English "today" because
the "g" sound was already a "y" sound.
When "ig" appeared at the end of words in Old English, it sounded like Modern English "ee".
Look at Modern German sonnig and just pronounce the "g" as a "y" and that is probably
close to what the Old English would have been.
English: sunny
Dutch: zonnig
German: sonnig
In Modern English we can put "y" at the end of almost anything and get an adjective, such as
fishy, smelly, thirsty, cloudy. This "y" ending is descended from the "ig" ending in Old
English.
There is another ending in Modern English that went through a simple reduction. "-ly" in
Modern English is also descended from an Old English ending. In this case it is descended
from "-l??e" which comes from Old English word meaning body. In the form "lich" it still
survives as a type of undead being.
Over time people dropped the "?e" part (which is pronounced like Modern English "ch" with
the "e" letter at the end representing an "uh" sound) and just said "-ly" instead of "-l??e".
This ending is still very common in Modern English and it is directly related to the "-lich" in
German, "-lijk" in Dutch and "-lig" in Swedish.
Here is the word "daily" and its cognates (words descended from a common source) in the
other Germanic languages
English: daily
Dutch: dagelijks
German: täglich
Swedish: daglig
This is just one of the many connections English has to its Germanic cousins. So English
might not look like the other Germanic languages, but it is just a Germanic language wearing
a jacket from a Romance language. It is still fundamentally a Germanic language and still
has a lot in common with them.
Brazilian Language: a Sea of Metaphors
By Tom Moore
Every Brazilian knows that “Navegar é preciso” (Navigating is necessary), and usually
identifies this with Camões, the great Baroque poet of the Portuguese sea voyages of the
early modern age, when Europeans discovered Brazil (the full expression actually goes back
to the Roman general, Pompey, who said Navigare necesse est, vivere non est necesse!"
(Navigating is necessary, life is not necessary!).
The formulation is echoed elsewhere in everyday language, for example in the motto
“Resistir é preciso!” (resistance is necessary) of the MV-Brasil (the Movimento Pela
Valorização da Cultura, do Idioma e das Riquezas do Brasil - Movement for the Preservation
of the Culture, Language and Riches of Brazil).
The trials and tribulations of the storm-tossed caravel on the open ocean (or near the
treacherous reefs and rocks of the coast) still serve to describe daily life on land in Brazil.
When something is going well, you can say that “vai de vento em popa” - literally, the wind is
directly astern (behind the poop, the elevated area at the stern with the captain’s quarters),
filling the square sails of the caravel, which sailed most effectively downwind. A Brazilian
proverb, still widely used, tells us that “De nada adianta o vento estar a favor se não se sabe
pra onde virar o leme” (It’s no use to have a favorable wind if you don’t know which way to
turn the steering oar), or in everyday terms, “it’s no use being lucky if you don’t know how to
use it."
The Brazilian household is like a ship and its crew, with the man at the helm, of course. As
the proverb has it “Mulher à vela, marido ao leme” - Wife at the sail, husband at the tiller - a
team, working together, but with the husband giving the direction. And a woman without a
husband is directionless: “Mulher sem marido, barco sem leme,” and not only that in grave
danger, since another proverb tells Brazilians that “Navio sem leme, naufrágio certo” (Ship
without a tiller is a shipwreck for sure). This is not to say that the role of tillerman (for the
husband ) is all cakes and ale, since it is his responsibility to keep the ship safely on course,
without letting it founder in open waters, or run aground - and one who doesn’t want to suffer
at the tiller, has to suffer on the rocks (“Quem não quer sofrer o leme, tem de sofrer o
escolho”).
A nautical metaphor which has gone so deep into Brazilian language that most Brazilians
have forgotten its watery origins is the expression “à toa” or “à-toa,” which has come to have
a broad spectrum of meanings. The literal meaning is “under tow,” that is a ship with no sails
raised, no motion of its own, not setting its own course, only moving through the water
because there is a tow rope pulling it along. Figuratively it has come to mean things like “at
random,” “whatever,” “worthless,” “careless,” “thoughtless,” “useless,” “unemployed.”
Originally these meanings were overwhelmingly negative and pejorative, but the stigma has
weakened over time, due to the popularity of the malandros (hustlers) and the relaxed
attitude of the Brazilian hippie of thirty years ago. Uma coisa à-toa is something insignificant,
not worth worrying about ("Não se irrite por uma coisa à-toa,” don’t get upset for no reason),
but significantly “coisa à-toa“ is also synonymous for “woman” (who as we saw above, is
adrift without a man giving direction). And even worse, a “mulher à-toa” is one of the many
ways to say “prostitute.”
More recent song lyrics show the positive side of being “à toa” - that is being open to
change, to moving in new directions, to being Zen. Caetano Veloso sings:
Rapte-me camaleoa
Adapte-me a uma cama boa
Capte-me uma mensagem à toa
De uma quasar pulsando loa
Interestelar canoa....
And Chiclete com Banana (axé music from Bahia) sings, in what would be a literally
impossible verse “Navego à toa numa boa, navego no seu doce sorriso” (literally: “I navigate
while being towed,” but figuratively “I am sailing along as happy as can be, I am sailing along
on your sweet smile”). On the other hand, Alceu Valença, though he lives in Rio (when he’s
not at his other home in Olinda), maintains the older, negative sense, in his song Longe
Demais:
(You are going too far, with your voracious appetite, going without direction)
Once your ship has run aground, hit a reef, it is encalhado (literally, on a rock), it is stuck, not
going anywhere. Both men and women can be encalhado, but it is more frequently said of
women. A mulher encalhada is single, and “procurando uma aliança para ganhar de prêmio
um macho para desencalhar” (looking for a wedding ring so that she can win a man to get
her off the rocks), from the usual macho point of view, a view only reinforced by the website
of Singles by Choice, which opines that "mulher encalhada é aquela que encalhou em
algum marido porque não tem coragem de ficar sozinha” (an encalhada is someone who
has run aground on some husband, because she doesn’t have the courage to stay single.)
Encalhado is also used when you are talking about goods that are past their sell-by date
(another metaphor used about women, not very nice....) and about beached whales.
A ship that has run aground may possibly get back off again, but if it hit during a storm it may
get pounded to pieces. Any sort of undertaking can get shipwrecked (naufragar), and the
unlucky who are shipwrecked may swim, swim, swim, and die on the beach (nadar, nadar,
nadar e morrer na praia). This is said of someone who worked their fingers to the bone,
almost succeeded, and as we say “snatched defeat out of the jaws of victory,” and frequently
used of soccer teams (the archetypical example for Americans would be the Boston Red
Sox).
Sea life, whether mammalian, piscine, or arthropod, is another rich source of metaphor.
“Boca de siri “ (crab mouth) means keep your mouth shut, don’t say anything about it (since
the notion is that the crab’s mouth is its claw, which doesn’t even let go after the crab is
dead. Or, as we would say in English, “clam up.” And it doesn’t matter which party is in
power - it is always the little people who pay the price (“Quando o mar briga com a praia,
quem apanha é caranguejo” - when the ocean fights with the beach, it’s the crab that gets
screwed.)
A recent ad campaign for a gym (Academia Runner in São Paulo) asked women “Você quer
ser baleia ou sereia, neste verão?” (would you rather be a whale or a mermaid), causing a
stir, but only because they were asking out in the open a question that Brazilian women were
already asking themselves. Men, on the other hand, might not be whales, but one that is
boring, uninteresting, too skinny, without a manly chest is “seco igual a um bacalhau” (all
dried up like salt cod). Once he has finally produced progeny, we can be certain the child will
have a family resemblance, since “filho de peixe, peixinho é” (the son of a fish is a little fish -
like father, like son).
Even the ferry from Niterói to Rio de Janeiro has produced its metaphors (Origenes Lessa
wrote memorably of the boy who dreamed of growing up to be a sailor with a woman in
every port, and had to content himself, as a seaman on the Niterói ferry, with one woman on
each side of Guanabara Bay). The ferry, which used to be known as the Barca da
Cantareira, is a metaphor for the bisexual (someone who walks both sides of the street), and
the rocking of the floats where the ferry takes on passengers recalls for some the weaving
and wobbling of the Carioca who has had a few too many chopps (draft beers).
Some of the most familiar expressions in Rio slang come from the beach, as you might
expect. Every Carioca has their favorite beach, and their favorite spot on their favorite beach
(my woman and I hang out on Ipanema near Posto 9). And so if we are invited to do
something/go somewhere that doesn’t appeal, we will usually say (without being pejorative)
“não é minha praia” - that’s not my beach. Someone who is “boiando” (floating) is just there,
out of it, clueless.
A real loser is like “merda n’agua” (shit floating on the water) - he doesn’t sink, but just goes
where the current takes him. The winner, on the other hand, is someone who likes to show
off his talents with a surfboard “tirando onda” (literally stealing a wave), but used for anyone
who is being conceited and trying to show off. And one of the favorite activities of idle
Carioca youth - lighting a baseado (joint) on the beach was immortalized by Gabriel o
Pensador with the refrain “sente a maresia” (smell the salt air....but the “salt air” that one
smells is one with the perfume of burning cannabis leaves.
And finally a toponymical note: two Carioca neighborhoods have nautical names: Leme (the
word for the steering oar mentioned above) - perhaps named thus because the small hill by
the water reminded the sailors of the poop from which they steered; and Gávea, in English,
"crow's nest,” the small aerie on the mast where the lookout sits when spying for land or
other vessels, certainly meant to name the Pedra da Gávea, a lookout point if there ever was
one.
Ma-ma, Pa-pa and Ta-ta Eat Your Brain Cells: Greeks to Blame
By Apio Frito
Anyone who’s studied Spanish for about a month or two is likely to be nearly ecstatic about
how reasonable and friendly gender in Spanish is (given exposure to other languages that
have it: I’m looking at you, German!). Isn’t it absolutely gorgeous? Masculine if it ends with
an ‘o’, feminine if it ends with an ‘a’. Plomo, cuchillo, orgullo, pistola, botella, destreza1.
Love-ly!
Anyone who’s studied the language for at least a little bit longer has more grey hair and
wrinkles at the corners of their mouths from all the frowning, because Spanish gender is
about as sneaky and unexpected as ninjas plotting heists with weasels in a house full of
jumpscares.
All these other folks have one thing in common: they all have a problema. Masculine! Say
‘una problema’ and lose your chance to be teacher’s pet forever! And then Problema brings
his no-good thug pals Tema, Sistema, Idioma, Fonema, Poema, Enigma2: just as you lose
count of these, their rowdy neighbours Mapa and Planeta show up, too. You shouldn’t
vandalise the Spanish language alone!
So, where does this nonsense come from? From a country that, surprisingly, created more
reasonable things, too: Ancient Greece. All these difficult (say, problema-tic, eh?) words
were regular in Ancient Greek. Regular and neuter. And that’s how they came to Latin, which
had the neuter gender along with the masculine and the feminine, so no conflicts there. The
trouble started when these words went to Romance languages, most of which lost their
neuter gender. They had to be put in one of the remaining boxes, and they became
masculine, due to similarities in the case forms—so many original Latin neuter nouns in
addition to the Greek guys—resulting in oro, hierro, escudo3 (from aurum, ferrum, scutum).
Well, problem solved, isn’t it? Heh, no. Look at ‘coma’: if it refers to a state of
unconsciousness, it’s masculine (used to be a Greek neuter noun); if it the Spanish version
of ‘comma’, it’s feminine (used to be a different Greek neuter noun!). And now, make way for
Rima, Gama, Cima and Goma4, the nasty girlfriends of our Greek troublemakers (all used to
be neuter and masculine in Ancient Greek, so go figure)!
Enough yet? No? Let’s crank it up to eleven bazillion, with all the perfectly Latin and feminine
words, like llama, cama, fama, calma, plata, rata, capa, copa5, aaarrgh! Okay, it’s time to
take a breather now, gender is tricky, even in languages, and there’s certainly more than
meets the eye.
In 1871, the various German-speaking states of Western-Central Europe unified to form the
German Empire. The largest and most powerful of these states—and the one that initiated
this Unification of Germany—was known as Prussia. The “Prussians” were well known as a
fierce and highly militaristic people that conquered large amounts of territory from the Baltic
to the Rhine. However, this description is more accurately applicable to the aforementioned
imperialistic German state that spearheaded the formation of the German Empire. These so-
called Prussians were actually descendants of Christian German crusaders known as the
Teutonic Knights or Teutonic Order.
The Prussian language (often called "Old Prussian" or "Baltic Prussian" to differentiate it
from the German dialects of Low Prussian and High Prussian), is a member of the Baltic
language family, and thus related to the three or four extant Baltic languages—Latvian,
Lithuanian, Latgalian, and (depending on the criteria) Samogitian; cognates can be observed
in examples including but not limited to rānkan (hand), which is ranka in Lithuanian,
and galwo (head), which is galva in Lithuanian. Although Prussian is extinct, the language is
being reconstructed and revived by linguists and enthusiasts in Lithuania, Germany, Latvia,
Poland, and Russia's Kaliningrad Oblast (the original homeland of the Baltic Prussians); the
recent publication of the novel The Little Prince in Prussian is one of the results of these
revival efforts (Culture.pl., 2015).
Because the only sources of complete sentences in Prussian are the Catechisms and other
Christian texts, the grammar of Prussian is mainly reconstructed from these. However,
because it is a Baltic language, the grammar is thought to be similar to Lithuanian and
Latvian, albeit with significant German lexical and grammatical influence due to the Teutonic
Conquest, an example of this being the placement of a verb at the end of a complex
sentence; a possible result of
“enlightened” Germanized
Prussians translating from
German to Prussian (Klussis,
2007. p. 17-19.).
The Prussians lived in the area currently spanning Kaliningrad Oblast and a part of
Northeastern Poland (specifically the Warmian-Masurian Voivodeship). This area was
originally known as Prussia but became known as East Prussia after the formation of the
German Kingdom of Prussia (Bibliotheca Baltica, 1995. p. 24-27). The landscape was filled
with thousands of swamps, rivers, and lakes that effectively isolated the Prussians and other
Baltic peoples and is ultimately the reason the Baltic language family is one of the most
archaic in Europe.
By the end of the 1st Century, Prussians were divided into tribes differentiated only by their
names that each ruled over domains known as laūks and villages called kāims (Arellis &
Klussis, 2007.p. 69-70). The fact that the Prussians never formed a common
political/territorial organization severely weakened them and made it difficult for them to
survive wars with Poland and the Teutonic Knights (ironically, Germany was in a very similar
situation during the Middle Ages and this made the German states weak until they were
unified by German Prussia) (Dzenis, 2016).
Teutonic Order
After its establishment, the Teutonic Order was first instructed with defending the Holy Land.
However, the knights eventually found it more profitable to expand into Eastern Europe and
forcefully convert the inhabitants to Christianity, particularly the Slavs (Tierney, 1983. p.
377). Although attempts were made by Poland to Christianize the Prussians since the 10th
Century, none of these were successful and the Prussians responded by raiding Poland and
executing missionaries. In 1226, Poland enlisted the aid of the Knights of the Teutonic Order
(who were recently extirpated from Hungary) and launched a Crusade against Prussia in
1230.
Although most of the Prussian tribes had been conquered by 1240, in 1242 the Prussians
launched a rebellion that was crushed after seven years of fighting. The Teutonic Knights
seemingly held supremacy in the Baltics until the Battle of Durbe on July 13th, 1260, wherein
the Samogitians decisively defeated them. This inspired the Prussians into instigating an
even bigger rebellion known as the Great Prussian Uprising in 1260 that lasted until 1274
and was nearly successful in reestablishing Prussian independence but ultimately failed due
to not all of the Prussian tribes participating and lead to the forced assimilation of the
Prussian population, the reduction of rights for Prussians, an increase of German colonists,
and many Prussians fleeing to the Grand Duchy of Lithuania (which had supported the
uprising). Herkus Monte, the leader of the Prussian rebellion, was captured and hanged by
the Teutonic Knights.
Even after the conquest by the Teutonic Order, Prussian was still tolerated and widely used
as the Order knew that forced Germanization would lead to more rebellions; even traces of
the Old Prussian religion remained extant as late as the 16th Century in remote villages
(Dzenis, 2016; Klussis, 2007.p. 4). Because the Teutonic Knights were mainly concerned
with Christianizing the pagan Prussians, they translated parts of the Bible as well as the
Catechisms into the local language (Culture.pl., 2015; Dzenis, 2016). These translations
would become essential in the eventual reconstruction of the language as they're the only
surviving fragments apart from minor pieces of Prussian literature such as the Basel
Epigram and the Elbing Vocabulary (Bibliotheca Baltica, 1995. p. 9. ; Culture.pl., 2015).
However, the loss of sovereignty to the Teutonic Knights and the imposition of Christianity
and German culture which lead to the eventual Germanization of the Prussian nobility, the
settlement of German colonists, as well as mass immigration of settlers and refugees from
Lithuania, Poland, and other countries due to the Protestant Reformation which further
marginalized the use of Prussian and encouraged the Prussians to adopt the languages of
others (particularly German), combined with the famines and Bubonic Plague epidemics that
ravaged the Prussian countryside from 1709 to 1711 led to both the Prussian nation and
language eventually becoming extinct by the early 18th Century (Dzenis, 2016; Klussis,
2007. p. 4-7). The assimilated descendants of these people started to speak dialects of
German, Polish, and Lithuanian albeit with traces of the Prussian language (bjornfjorarluff,
2011; Klussis, 2007. p. 19-23.).
After the Prussian nation and language was wiped out, traces of the language and culture
continued to survive in the form of place names, personal names, and loan words in the local
German dialect of Low Prussian (such as kurp, which means shoe and comes from Baltic
Prussian kurpi as opposed to Standard German Schuh) (bjornfjorarluff, 2011; Culture.pl.
2015; Klussis, 2007. p. 5-9.). These traces, unfortunately, have mostly vanished as the area
of Prussia was annexed by Poland and the USSR after World War II and the Communist
authorities purged the area of its local heritage. However, the most prominent legacy of the
Prussians is their name as the Teutonic Knights later used it as the name of their own
powerful state, which would unify Germany and dominate Europe in the late 19th and early
20th Centuries. The prominence of the name “Prussia” as well as the Neo Prussian
Revivalist Movement can still be observed in modern day lands that were part of historical
Prussia.
In November of 2017, I went to Lithuania myself and my main objectives were to meet
members of the Neo-Prussian revivalist movement, collect resources on Prussian language
and culture, and observe traces of Baltic Prussian culture and history. During my trip I
stayed with a Neo-Prussian couple in Vilnius and practiced Prussian everyday with them.
The man told me that the Prussian language was something he finds a sense of identity in
and hopes for it to be revived and is in contact with more serious revivalists who are raising
children in the language.
This may indicate that Prussian revival is becoming popular or that research into Prussian is
extensive in Lithuania. In Klaipėda, traces of the Baltic Prussians were especially prevalent,
oweing to the city’s history of being Baltic Prussian territory and a significant part of German
Prussia as well. The local history museum contained a plethora of exhibits and information
pertaining to both the Baltic Prussians and the later German state of Prussia and a statue of
Herkus Monte was also located within the city. Overall, within Lithuania at least, the legacy
of Prussia, both Baltic and German, remains prominent.
Conclusion
Ultimately, Prussia has had a massive influence on the history of Europe and its legacy can
still be seen. This legacy is most prevalent in the territory of the original Baltic Prussians that
eventually became an integral part of the much larger German state. Prussia is therefore an
integral part of the cultural heritage of many nations.
English Prussian/Prūsiskan
Hello Kaīls
Excuse me As etwinūja
Goodbye Deiwūtiskan
Yes/No/And/Certainly Jā/Ni/Be/Akiwīstai
I am… As asma…
Good/Bad Labs/Wārgs
1 Aīns 6 Uššai
2 Dwāi 7 Septīnjai
3 Trijan 8 Astōnjai
4 Keturjāi 9 Newīnjai
5 Pēnkjāi 10 Desīmtan
Bibliography:
Arellis, P., & Klussis, M. (2007). Prūsiska Chrestōmatija (Prussian Chrestomathy). Kaunas,
Lithuania: Lithuanians' World Center for Advancement of Culture, Science and Education.
Bibliotheca Baltica. (1995). Primoji Prūsų Knyga (The First Prussia Book). Vilnius, Lithuania:
Bibliotheca Baltica.
Culture.pl. (2015, February 17). Little Prince Published in Prussian. Retrieved from
Culture.pl: http://culture.pl/en/article/little-prince-published-in-prussian
Dániel, B., Tímea, B., Milán, D., Tamás, F., Márta, F., Gergely, K., et al. (2009). Dinasztia,
hatalom, egyház Régiók formálódása Európa közepén (900-1453) (Dynasty, Power, Church
Formation of Regions in the Center of Europe ). (M. Font, Ed.) Pécs, Baranya, Hungary:
Pécsi Tudományegyetem.
Dzenis, A. (2016, March 2). THE OLD PRUSSIANS: THE LOST RELATIVES OF LATVIANS
AND LITHUANIANS. Retrieved December 7, 2017, from DEEP BALTIC:
https://deepbaltic.com/2016/03/02/the-old-prussians-the-lost-relatives-of-latvians-and-
lithuanians/
VIKINGS! They came from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun where the
hotsprings blow... except they didn't, not from the land of hotsprings (Iceland), not generally
speaking anyway. However Norsemen certainly did! So what's the difference between Vikings
and Norsemen and what language did they speak?
Let me first take the opportunity to dispell this myth going around that Viking is not a word for
a people, it's an action. Everytime I hear people try to correct someone with saying “Ah! But
Viking isn't something to be, it's what you do... you go a-viking!” it makes me want to tie them
to a stake and set fire to the building.
Viking is a word we took straight from the Old Norse víkingr. It derives from vík which refers
to an inlet or bay, and the ending -ingr which means person. Scholars are unsure whether it
was meant to mean someone who sails from the bay or someone who sails INTO bays (in
order to upset the locals), nonetheless we're talking about people. The confusion that it refers
to an action arises from two things. Firstly that in English we often use the ending “-ing” when
talking about actions: feasting, fighting, drinking, pillaging etc. so “viking” in English can
sometimes get misinterpreted in that way.
Secondly, Old Norse had another very similar word víking (identical to the first word, víkingr,
but without the 'r' at the end), and this word refers to what Vikings are likely to participate in,
because it essentially means “a journey or voyage with the intent to go raiding”, but still you
wouldn't say you 'go' a voyage, but you can 'go on' one.
But we never borrowed this word into English, partly because it'd be confusing since we
already borrowed 'Viking' for the people, and also because it's simple enough to just say “a
raid” or “a voyage”.
But not every Norseman was a Viking, as it happens being a Viking was something you were
most likely to do only a few times in your youth. There were the odd few who loved it so much
they'd go raiding every summer until they grew old and grey, but more often than not
Norsemen would reach the point when they'd say:
So when we talk about Viking language, it's really just a more fun way of saying Old Norse,
but they spoke the language just as much when they were farming sheep as when they were
looting monasteries.
The Norse language was not a harsh gutteral barbarian tongue of grunts and warcries, it was
a remarkably beautiful language that produced some of the finest poetry the world has ever
known. Though I would be lying if I said that the poetry did not occasionally venture into
colourful descriptions of violence. Take this verse from the poem Hákonarmál for instance:
Brutal isn't it! But in all seriousness, they weren't really such a bloodthirsty lot, no more so than
anyone else in history. Look at the Crusades that came centuries after, now that was a REAL
bloody mess! The Pope kept giving them all the thumbs up about it, and frankly I don't believe
the situation was very different to our Vikings at all... young guys hungry for adventure, wanting
to explore new lands and come back home with stories of heroism, a bucket load of souvenirs
and maybe a couple cool scars to show off to the nice girls in the village.
The Norse get a bad rap. It wasn't really bloodshed and violence they glorified. They admired
people who didn't back away from a fight, who didn't back out of agreements. People who
stuck by their words no matter the cost and achieved what they set out to do. Earnest, brave
and honest people. In those days, reputation was everything. As this famous verse of Norse
poetry says:
INSULAR SCANDINAVIAN:
“Deyr fé, deyja frændr, deyr sjalfr it sama. Ek veit einn at aldrei deyr, dómr um dauðan
hvern.”
Icelandic: Deyr fé, deyja frændur, deyr sjálfur ið sama. Ég veit einn að aldri deyr, dómur um
dauðan hvern.
Faroese: Doyr fæ, doyggja frændur, doyr sjálvur hann somuleiðis. Eg veit ein ið aldri doyr,
dómur yvir deyðan mann.
Norn*: Deu fe, duya frinder, deu shel an da samma. Yach wet ien sin allde deu, dume on
daun whaar.
CONTINENTAL SCANDINAVIAN:
“Deyr fé, deyja frændr, deyr sjalfr it sama. Ek veit einn at aldrei deyr, dómr um dauðan
hvern.”
Norwegian Bokmål: Dør fe, dør frender, dør selv på samme vis. Jeg vet en som aldri dør,
dommen over den døde.
Norwegian Nynorsk: Døyr fe, døyr frender, døyr sjølv ein samleis. Eg veit ein som aldri
døyr, domen om kvar ein daud.
Swedish: Dör fä, dör fränder, dör själv du likaledes. Jag vet ett som aldrig dör, domen över
död man.
Elfdalian*: Där fä, däa fränder, där siuov summulund. Ig wet ien so older där, duomen yvyr
doðkall.
Danish: Dør fæ, dør frænder, dør selv man tilsidst. Jeg ved et som aldrig dør, dom over
hver en død.
I explained what the verse meant in English already but what I wrote above was too long and
convoluted to count as a genuine translation of poetry, so here it is once more, this time trying
to be closer to the original Norse text:
“Deyr fé, deyja frændr, deyr sjalfr it sama. Ek veit einn at aldrei deyr, dómr um dauðan
hvern.”
English: Die fee, die friends, dies the self just the same. I know one, that never dies, doom
upon dead men.
But isn't it funny how this translation seems like it belongs somewhere with the others above?
It doesn't seem vastly different to the others. Well it isn't. It'd be a bit of a leap to start
suggesting English was a child of Old Norse. When the monks first saw the Viking longboats
approaching across the waves, it was English they used to beg and plead with God to protect
them from the heathen invaders, but at least at that time Old Norse and Old English were
sisters or at least cousins.
Whilst Norsemen said 'frændr' to mean kinsmen, Anglo-Saxons said 'freondas' to mean
friends. Aside from the subtle differences in meaning between many common words, there
were many words that were identical in meaning. Norsemen said 'fé' to mean livestock, and
Anglo-Saxons said 'feh' to mean the same, though as this word developed into the Modern
English fee, it has since changed meaning.
For the Norse and the Anglo-Saxons livestock was used as currency, so when they needed
to pay a fee to someone, it was cattle that they would use, thus how it obtained its current
meaning. Likewise, Norsemen said 'dómr' and Anglo-Saxons said 'dóm' to mean judgement.
The modern word is 'doom' which has now shifted meaning to refer to an unpleasant fate, but
this is through the idea of someone facing God's judgement, and thus 'meeting their doom'.
In my English translation above I've used both these words with their original meanings for
effect, so perhaps it exaggerates the similarities between Modern English and Old Norse. But
back in the past the similarities were much stronger, to the point where many people have
suggested that with enough time and patience a Norseman and an Anglo-Saxon could have
understood each other.
Maybe it's a bit much to say they could understand each other's languages, but they could find
ways to be understood based on the common ground. What is certain is that the Norsemen
who settled in England between the 9th to the 11th centuries didn't find learning the local
language much of a challenge. However, since they just picked it up as they went along, it
meant that they very often ended up slipping in their own words.