Since I've studied Giovanni Boccaccio, who is considered an influence of Chaucer's, I have decided to read the Canterbury Tales Unit this week.
The Wife of Bath's Tale: The Unknown Bride: I love the challenge put on by the Queen! I know I would be under pressure if I were to have to discover what women wish for most. I find it interesting that the narrator makes the claim that "we women cannot conceal things." That almost seems to be the view of a man. I doubt she sincerely means that. The example she gives of Midas' wife also seems ridiculous. I get the feeling that this story focuses on how the sexes view each other. This story argues for the respect of women.
The Friar's Tale: The Story of the Summoner: I'm surprised to see that the fiend "plays fair" in a sense. He values the true meaning of what people say. It seems that the fiend plays a neutral role in this story because he needed the old woman to make the call to take the summoner into hell.
The Franklin's Tale: The Promise of Dorigen: Hmm, I wonder if this suitor will manage to find a way to deal with the black rocks that worry Dorigen so intensely. With the description of what the magician is showing Aurelius and his brother, I'm pretty sure the magician is using the aforementioned magical book. Yep, that was not too difficult to predict. Wow, I'm surprised at how much importance is placed into keeping one's word in these stories. Again, this story seems to end well for most everyone involved. I really enjoy the question at the end, as well.
The Prioress's Tale: Little Hugh: Goodness, this story certainly starts off with some morbid ideas. What a chilling thought to imagine a dead body singing a hymn. It's clear that this story is meant to incite anger thanks to the use of a innocent martyr.
Nun's Priest's Tale: The Cock, the Hen and the Fox: As I begin to read, I wonder if this story will concern itself mainly with the role of man. This is interesting; we have another story within a story here. I stand corrected. I wonder what roles dreams played in the lives of people who lived during the time of the story's writing. I like the lesson here regarding the vulnerable role one puts oneself in when he speaks.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Monday, October 27, 2014
Famous Last Words Week 10: Eventful Weekend to Say the Least
While I know my title makes this post seem dramatic, I just have a lot of good news to share. I certainly hope you all will not think I am bragging either!
On Friday, much to my surprise, I found out that I am a finalist for the Rhodes Scholarship for my district, which covers Oklahoma and Texas. Each district chooses fourteen finalists, and from those fourteen, they select two Rhodes Scholars. When you crunch the numbers, that means I have a one in seven chance of becoming a Rhodes Scholar. I cannot believe it. It is difficult to imagine the opportunity of having the chance to study in Oxford for two years, and in my case, I would plan to pursue a Master degree in General Linguistics and Philology. The interview is a little less than a month from now, so I'm preparing myself with a ton of reading. It will be an interesting experience to say the least!
Yesterday, I had my first interview for medical school at OU's College of Medicine. While I felt the interview went fine, the more important aspect I gleaned from the experience was how impressed I was by the campus. The medical students who showed us around were so well-rounded, and I felt comfortable around them. Most importantly, I decided that I could be happy studying at OU's College of Medicine. I still have more interviews to go, but it is reassuring to know that I do not necessarily have to leave the state in order to find a good fit for medical school.
I guess for now I just have to concern myself with preparing for the next challenges in the upcoming months. It's exciting, and the best part about this is that I never would have seen myself doing any of these things four years ago.
On Friday, much to my surprise, I found out that I am a finalist for the Rhodes Scholarship for my district, which covers Oklahoma and Texas. Each district chooses fourteen finalists, and from those fourteen, they select two Rhodes Scholars. When you crunch the numbers, that means I have a one in seven chance of becoming a Rhodes Scholar. I cannot believe it. It is difficult to imagine the opportunity of having the chance to study in Oxford for two years, and in my case, I would plan to pursue a Master degree in General Linguistics and Philology. The interview is a little less than a month from now, so I'm preparing myself with a ton of reading. It will be an interesting experience to say the least!
 |
| A clip from the email that I could barely believe. (Personal photo) |
I guess for now I just have to concern myself with preparing for the next challenges in the upcoming months. It's exciting, and the best part about this is that I never would have seen myself doing any of these things four years ago.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Storytelling Week 10: Back to Basics
I went to bed as a man and woke up as an infant. The resilient, slender legs I had as a marathon runner are now pudgy, fleshy sausages that cannot even support my own weight. I try to avert my gaze away from the aseptic hospital lighting that strains my eyes, but the muscles in my neck fail to move a head that seems too big for my body.
I cannot explain how I came to inhabit this form, and despite the transformation, I find myself at ease as if I haven't learned what it means to be angry or afraid. Is this what reincarnation is like? Is this what it is to be born again? In a way, I am a pioneer. I'm becoming a witness of the event we all experience but never remember.
Luckily, I'm able to shift my gaze around to get a sense of my surroundings. I get the feeling that I am not alone. It must be a nursery. I seem to be in somewhat of a crib, and as I look toward my minuscule, albeit adorable, toes, I make out two blurred figures. One, dressed in white, stands still enough to where I can almost make out distinct features. The other seems to be an amorphous blur. I think he or she is motioning wildly to the doctor as if trying to explain that the impossible had happened. A nurse walks in the door, and my fresh ears catch a few syllables of the conversation.
I recognize the voice immediately. It's my wife.
If only I could yell out to her--let her know that I'm here! Only the babble that all infants share emerges from my untrained tongue. Yet, how could she know? I can only guess at what she is telling the physician.
Forget all of that. I need a plan of action. I am faced with challenge of setting myself apart from so many other bundles of joy. What if I tried to kick with my leg?
Despite the fact that maneuvering this body is much more complicated that driving a shift stick, I manage to move my leg in what barely passes as a kick. However, it seems to catch Rachel's attention. She motions to the doctor, but does not seem convinced. Perhaps I can catch her attention if I wiggle these petite toes of mine. My ten dancing digits catch the eye of my wife, but the doctor still remains as motionless as before.
I'm running out of options here. I lift my right hand as high as a can as if I were trying to ask a question of my spectators. Rachel jumps back and grabs the doctor to make him look at what I am doing. I might just be able to pull this off!
As my coup de grace, I begin to squirm as if my life depended on it. I'm certain that this will do the trick. In my newfound confidence, I look to my left. My hope dissipates as quickly as it appeared. My performance seems to have caught the attention of other newborns in the room, and they begin to mimic my last chance dance. Only a few hours old, I have already gone viral.
I look toward the window, and the blurred figure that represents my wife seems confused. She has lost me, and in turn, she has lost the attention of the physician. I see him turn away to attend to more pressing affairs.
Rachel gives me one more look, and I can only guess she is saying goodbye.
Author's Note: I decided to take my own spin on The Piqued Buffalo-Wife story from the Native American Marriage Tales unit. While I didn't discuss marriage in my retelling, I focused on the part where the transformed son tries his best to help his father identify him among other buffalo calves. In this case, the transformation is of a man into an infant rather than a boy into a calf.
Bibliography
Stith Thompson
Tales of the North American Indians
1929
I cannot explain how I came to inhabit this form, and despite the transformation, I find myself at ease as if I haven't learned what it means to be angry or afraid. Is this what reincarnation is like? Is this what it is to be born again? In a way, I am a pioneer. I'm becoming a witness of the event we all experience but never remember.
 |
| A representation of the bodily prison I am trapped in. Wikipedia Commons. |
I recognize the voice immediately. It's my wife.
If only I could yell out to her--let her know that I'm here! Only the babble that all infants share emerges from my untrained tongue. Yet, how could she know? I can only guess at what she is telling the physician.
Forget all of that. I need a plan of action. I am faced with challenge of setting myself apart from so many other bundles of joy. What if I tried to kick with my leg?
Despite the fact that maneuvering this body is much more complicated that driving a shift stick, I manage to move my leg in what barely passes as a kick. However, it seems to catch Rachel's attention. She motions to the doctor, but does not seem convinced. Perhaps I can catch her attention if I wiggle these petite toes of mine. My ten dancing digits catch the eye of my wife, but the doctor still remains as motionless as before.
I'm running out of options here. I lift my right hand as high as a can as if I were trying to ask a question of my spectators. Rachel jumps back and grabs the doctor to make him look at what I am doing. I might just be able to pull this off!
As my coup de grace, I begin to squirm as if my life depended on it. I'm certain that this will do the trick. In my newfound confidence, I look to my left. My hope dissipates as quickly as it appeared. My performance seems to have caught the attention of other newborns in the room, and they begin to mimic my last chance dance. Only a few hours old, I have already gone viral.
I look toward the window, and the blurred figure that represents my wife seems confused. She has lost me, and in turn, she has lost the attention of the physician. I see him turn away to attend to more pressing affairs.
Rachel gives me one more look, and I can only guess she is saying goodbye.
Author's Note: I decided to take my own spin on The Piqued Buffalo-Wife story from the Native American Marriage Tales unit. While I didn't discuss marriage in my retelling, I focused on the part where the transformed son tries his best to help his father identify him among other buffalo calves. In this case, the transformation is of a man into an infant rather than a boy into a calf.
Bibliography
Stith Thompson
Tales of the North American Indians
1929
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Reading Diary Week 10: Native American Marriage Tales
For this week, I chose the Native American Marriage Tales unit.
The Piqued Buffalo-Wife: I'm surprised that this story starts with a situation of bestiality right out of the gate, but perhaps it's wrong of me to label it in such a way. I like how the situation has flipped when the father has to pick out his child out of the rest of the buffalo calves. I'm also surprised that the story ended relatively well for the family despite the father's mistake.
Splinter-Foot Girl: I love the variety of ways in which life is created in these stories. It reminds me a bit of some of the origin stories I read in the Ovid units. Also, the intervention of animals in this story as messengers strikes me as fascinating. It's as if trust is put into them to carry on the correct message. The image of buffalo bulls burrowing through the ground is quite impressive! I get the feeling that this was a story to set the order of nature--that is, set who holds dominion over whom.
The Fox-Woman: There seems to be a similarity to this story and the stories told in the Eskimo unit, because an animal's skin is considered a fundamental part of its form. Although, it seems that smell remains with the life-form no matter what shape it takes.
The Rolling Head: There's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I'm not used to seeing stories that involve a man killing his wife. And I just read that the children were fed the meat of their mother! I wonder what it would be like to be followed by the head of my deceased mother. Well, I guess a rolling head gathers no moss.
The Bear-Woman: It seems to be a consistent pattern that any marriage to an animals in these stories involves the mention of sexual acts between the human and animal lovers. The action in these stories seems to change without a moment's notice. The Bear-Woman could have been a little more direct by stating the touching of her kidneys would have dire consequences.
The Piqued Buffalo-Wife: I'm surprised that this story starts with a situation of bestiality right out of the gate, but perhaps it's wrong of me to label it in such a way. I like how the situation has flipped when the father has to pick out his child out of the rest of the buffalo calves. I'm also surprised that the story ended relatively well for the family despite the father's mistake.
Splinter-Foot Girl: I love the variety of ways in which life is created in these stories. It reminds me a bit of some of the origin stories I read in the Ovid units. Also, the intervention of animals in this story as messengers strikes me as fascinating. It's as if trust is put into them to carry on the correct message. The image of buffalo bulls burrowing through the ground is quite impressive! I get the feeling that this was a story to set the order of nature--that is, set who holds dominion over whom.
The Fox-Woman: There seems to be a similarity to this story and the stories told in the Eskimo unit, because an animal's skin is considered a fundamental part of its form. Although, it seems that smell remains with the life-form no matter what shape it takes.
The Rolling Head: There's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I'm not used to seeing stories that involve a man killing his wife. And I just read that the children were fed the meat of their mother! I wonder what it would be like to be followed by the head of my deceased mother. Well, I guess a rolling head gathers no moss.
The Bear-Woman: It seems to be a consistent pattern that any marriage to an animals in these stories involves the mention of sexual acts between the human and animal lovers. The action in these stories seems to change without a moment's notice. The Bear-Woman could have been a little more direct by stating the touching of her kidneys would have dire consequences.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Essay Week 9: The Shaping Force of Narrative
Having progressed this far into the semester, I have started to reflect on the purpose of storytelling. How did storytelling evolve to take root in culture? What do stories provide to those that hear them? What about those who tell the stories?
A year ago, I took my honors colloquium, Literature and Medicine, and the central question of the course was this: What can literature learn from medicine, and what can medicine learn from literature? We explored how narrative genre can frame the stories that patients bring with them into the examination room. We discussed the role of empathy and how abduction, a type of hypothesis-forming logic, fuels what doctors do on a daily basis.
I bring this up because I believe storytelling has a way of molding both the people who hear tales and those who recount them, and if that is the case, then storytelling fulfills a cultural function. Research done by scientists at Emory University found that reading fiction changes the physical structure of the brain. As the lead author stated, narrative has a way of putting someone in the protagonist's shoes. Another study by David Kidd and Emanuele Castano found that literary fiction predisposes people to develop a stronger theory of mind and subsequently improve their ability to empathize with others.
Such findings imply that the stories we absorb have a way of shaping the way we think and the way we view the experience of other people. Perhaps reading is the portal that allows us to delve into experiences we might never come to know. I can attest to the fact that I now try to see what I can learn from the fiction I read. I tend to ask myself: How can I apply what I've read to my ability to better relate to others? What does this tell me about the human experience? When I view reading in that way, it gives the time I spend delving into stories more purpose.
A year ago, I took my honors colloquium, Literature and Medicine, and the central question of the course was this: What can literature learn from medicine, and what can medicine learn from literature? We explored how narrative genre can frame the stories that patients bring with them into the examination room. We discussed the role of empathy and how abduction, a type of hypothesis-forming logic, fuels what doctors do on a daily basis.
 |
| The cover of one of the books written by my professors for Literature and Medicine. Image found at Project MUSE. |
Such findings imply that the stories we absorb have a way of shaping the way we think and the way we view the experience of other people. Perhaps reading is the portal that allows us to delve into experiences we might never come to know. I can attest to the fact that I now try to see what I can learn from the fiction I read. I tend to ask myself: How can I apply what I've read to my ability to better relate to others? What does this tell me about the human experience? When I view reading in that way, it gives the time I spend delving into stories more purpose.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Reading Diary Week 9: Eskimo Folk-Tales
Given the arrival of cooler weather, I thought it would be appropriate to choose the Eskimo Folk-Tales unit for this week's reading.
The Coming of Men, A Long, Long While Ago: I love how death is treated in this story. I never thought to imagine death as something to learn, and here it is depicted as a necessary, unavoidable part of life. One of my favorite lines is "They did not know how to story their words into little black marks as you do." Another thing to notice is that the story of origin focuses on discovery rather than birth.
Nukúnguasik, who Escaped from the Tupilak: The description of the Tupilak is pretty creepy in this story, and I think part of that observation is based on the fact that the description is a bit vague. Also, I was surprised to see that Nukúnguasik was willing to lead his brothers to where the middle brother died of fright.
Isigâligârssik: I wonder if there's a pattern of having trickery within stories that deal with native culture. I noticed the same thing in the Brer Rabbit unit. There is also a strong sense of revenge, but in this case, the revenge does not seem to be one fueled by malice.
Makíte: I nearly feel that this story lacks a resolution. Makíte kills a man and subsequently suffers no punishment for it. Plus, as a reader I'm left wondering what the lone-dweller was talking about before he was killed at the hands of Makíte. I get the feeling that I would need quite a bit of cultural context to understand this story.
The Giant Dog: I wonder why there is such an attention placed on "inland-dwellers" in this unit. Also, most of the stories imply that the narrator does not know everything. He or she seems to admit that they only have a fraction of the story, because they end every tale with a variation of "that is all I know."
Papik, Who Killed His Wife's Brother: I like the emphasis put on the value of not killing a fellow man. Once again, there's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I wonder if such stories were told to children as well. It's hard to get an idea of how taboo violence was in the Eskimo culture. Also, dying does not seem to be a terrible thing in this story.
The Wife Who Lied: The culture certainly takes lying seriously! Then again, she did cause the death of nearly all the women in their town. One of the most vivid parts in this story is the description of how the women literally worked their fingers to the bone while making the arrows.
Atdlarneq, The Great Glutton: I'm nearly surprised to see that no one died in this story! I expected the master of the house to feed Atdlarneq to death to punish him for his hubris of entering his home. The one thing that makes no sense at all is the description of copper cheeks. At first, I thought it was a way to describe the color, but it seems that the copper cheeks would be able to give quite the beating.
Tungujuluk and Saunikoq: I find it interesting that the act of taking the form of an animal requires the skin of that animal. In the very least, it is described as such. This story seems similar to the one involving Atdlarneq because the punishment is in the form of humiliation.
The Coming of Men, A Long, Long While Ago: I love how death is treated in this story. I never thought to imagine death as something to learn, and here it is depicted as a necessary, unavoidable part of life. One of my favorite lines is "They did not know how to story their words into little black marks as you do." Another thing to notice is that the story of origin focuses on discovery rather than birth.
Nukúnguasik, who Escaped from the Tupilak: The description of the Tupilak is pretty creepy in this story, and I think part of that observation is based on the fact that the description is a bit vague. Also, I was surprised to see that Nukúnguasik was willing to lead his brothers to where the middle brother died of fright.
Isigâligârssik: I wonder if there's a pattern of having trickery within stories that deal with native culture. I noticed the same thing in the Brer Rabbit unit. There is also a strong sense of revenge, but in this case, the revenge does not seem to be one fueled by malice.
Makíte: I nearly feel that this story lacks a resolution. Makíte kills a man and subsequently suffers no punishment for it. Plus, as a reader I'm left wondering what the lone-dweller was talking about before he was killed at the hands of Makíte. I get the feeling that I would need quite a bit of cultural context to understand this story.
The Giant Dog: I wonder why there is such an attention placed on "inland-dwellers" in this unit. Also, most of the stories imply that the narrator does not know everything. He or she seems to admit that they only have a fraction of the story, because they end every tale with a variation of "that is all I know."
Papik, Who Killed His Wife's Brother: I like the emphasis put on the value of not killing a fellow man. Once again, there's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I wonder if such stories were told to children as well. It's hard to get an idea of how taboo violence was in the Eskimo culture. Also, dying does not seem to be a terrible thing in this story.
The Wife Who Lied: The culture certainly takes lying seriously! Then again, she did cause the death of nearly all the women in their town. One of the most vivid parts in this story is the description of how the women literally worked their fingers to the bone while making the arrows.
Atdlarneq, The Great Glutton: I'm nearly surprised to see that no one died in this story! I expected the master of the house to feed Atdlarneq to death to punish him for his hubris of entering his home. The one thing that makes no sense at all is the description of copper cheeks. At first, I thought it was a way to describe the color, but it seems that the copper cheeks would be able to give quite the beating.
Tungujuluk and Saunikoq: I find it interesting that the act of taking the form of an animal requires the skin of that animal. In the very least, it is described as such. This story seems similar to the one involving Atdlarneq because the punishment is in the form of humiliation.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Reading Diary Assessment
Having read through my Reading Diaries again, I notice that I pretty much stick with the same format. I read through the stories in order and list my thoughts after each one. For the most part, all of the posts are around the same length.
One consistent pattern I notice is that I tend to look for common themes and patterns between different units. For example, in the Japanese Mythology Unit, I mention how many of the stories have an incestuous undertone that is also demonstrated in the Ovid Units over Greek mythology. I'm not surprised to see such a trend, because I try to have the same perspective when it comes to how other areas of knowledge connect in my own learning. However, I seem to make even stronger observations between stories within a whole unit. I guess I preoccupy myself with the overall message of the author.
Also, I tend to focus on my thoughts and reflections rather than the content of the plot. In my opinion, that's the purpose of a reading diary. Otherwise, the post just becomes a regurgitation of what is already written. My Reading Diaries seem to relatively useful for jogging my memory of how I had interpreted a story when I was in the act of reading it.
When it comes to how much the reading I remember, I will say that I am very able to recall how I felt when I was reading a certain story. I remember the impressions I generated, and I believe that reflects the way in which I have been doing the reading diaries. Since I focus on my own thoughts, I find it much easier to bring how I connected with the reading into discussion. Perhaps that's not the best result, but I enjoy being able to discuss stories in a way that communicates who I am.
One consistent pattern I notice is that I tend to look for common themes and patterns between different units. For example, in the Japanese Mythology Unit, I mention how many of the stories have an incestuous undertone that is also demonstrated in the Ovid Units over Greek mythology. I'm not surprised to see such a trend, because I try to have the same perspective when it comes to how other areas of knowledge connect in my own learning. However, I seem to make even stronger observations between stories within a whole unit. I guess I preoccupy myself with the overall message of the author.
Also, I tend to focus on my thoughts and reflections rather than the content of the plot. In my opinion, that's the purpose of a reading diary. Otherwise, the post just becomes a regurgitation of what is already written. My Reading Diaries seem to relatively useful for jogging my memory of how I had interpreted a story when I was in the act of reading it.
When it comes to how much the reading I remember, I will say that I am very able to recall how I felt when I was reading a certain story. I remember the impressions I generated, and I believe that reflects the way in which I have been doing the reading diaries. Since I focus on my own thoughts, I find it much easier to bring how I connected with the reading into discussion. Perhaps that's not the best result, but I enjoy being able to discuss stories in a way that communicates who I am.
Monday, October 6, 2014
Famous Last Words Week 7: A New Perspective
The last time I wrote a Famous Last Words entry, I found myself struggling to keep pace with a slew of applications and deadlines. Now, I can breathe a little easier. Even though I have two interviews this week, my schedule has opened up to allow for more spontaneity. I'm reading for pleasure again. I'm finding time to go play tennis during the rare occasions when Oklahoma presents a autumn day that is the perfect temperature without the persistent wind.
However, I do not regret the rush and stress from the past month. With those national scholarship applications, I was forced to stop and take stock of my life. Personal statements required that I put who I am into writing, and it is harder than it seems.
"Why?" That's the simple word that came up again and again during that process. Why do I, a person who loves teaching, want to become a doctor? Why do I see language as a lens through which I evaluate my skills as a tutor and future physician? Why did I make the decisions that led me to where I am now?
It is a shame that the question of "what" seems to take precedence in life, and it starts early on. What do you want to be when you grow up? What are your goals? What matters to you? These same questions hold merit, but I think they more readily come to mind.
I now find myself asking "why?" more often, and it keeps me grounded. I feel as if I have taken a one-hour course over myself for the past month, and I am glad I held my ground. The funny thing is that I never would have imagined that I would have gained this much just from the process of applying for such scholarships. I guess the best part of education is what you learn when you least expect it.
 |
| A newfound hobby is taking up my free time. Wikipedia Commons. |
"Why?" That's the simple word that came up again and again during that process. Why do I, a person who loves teaching, want to become a doctor? Why do I see language as a lens through which I evaluate my skills as a tutor and future physician? Why did I make the decisions that led me to where I am now?
It is a shame that the question of "what" seems to take precedence in life, and it starts early on. What do you want to be when you grow up? What are your goals? What matters to you? These same questions hold merit, but I think they more readily come to mind.
I now find myself asking "why?" more often, and it keeps me grounded. I feel as if I have taken a one-hour course over myself for the past month, and I am glad I held my ground. The funny thing is that I never would have imagined that I would have gained this much just from the process of applying for such scholarships. I guess the best part of education is what you learn when you least expect it.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Essay Week 7: Dabbling in Dialect
As a language major, a question that tends to intrigue me is how the borders between languages are defined. Unfortunately, I am not trained as a philologist, so it's difficult for me to explore the matter precisely. I do, however, see dialects that emerge out of languages as the "margins of speech."
By "margins," I mean the forms of language that would not be considered standard form. Of course, defining what is standard within language becomes problematic, as well. If language is such a measure of human intellect, how could language be anything but standard?
The key factors that put dialects at the margins of speech seem to be both linguistic demography and literary presence. The former boils down to a game of numbers. If a majority of a population speak one form of a language, then that language will shift toward that form. An example of this is how the word "literally" has gained a new meaning of emphasis (which I despise). The frequent usage of "literally" as a way to express emphasis predicated its entrance into the dictionary.
If the demographic that speaks a form or dialect acts as the shifting wind that subtly change language, then literature anchors language in a way that impedes linguistic shifts. Works of literature that command respect are the works that are taught in the classroom, therefore echoes of language from decades and centuries ago can influence the way in which we learn to read, write and speak. Not to mention, the sole act of reading can be a window into a language's past. Part of this powerful influence comes from the fact that text on a page does not shift over time. The text may fade away, but the language within retains a strong sense of stability despite a world of changing linguistic influences.
By "margins," I mean the forms of language that would not be considered standard form. Of course, defining what is standard within language becomes problematic, as well. If language is such a measure of human intellect, how could language be anything but standard?
The key factors that put dialects at the margins of speech seem to be both linguistic demography and literary presence. The former boils down to a game of numbers. If a majority of a population speak one form of a language, then that language will shift toward that form. An example of this is how the word "literally" has gained a new meaning of emphasis (which I despise). The frequent usage of "literally" as a way to express emphasis predicated its entrance into the dictionary.
 |
| Speaking of dialect, this map highlights areas of the country where a non-rhotic "r" is used. The non-rhotic makes words like "car" sound like "cah." This is typically of the Boston accent, for example. Wikipedia Commons. |
Storytelling for Week 7: Lost in Translation
Made from the earth, I was. Plain and simple. Well, I wouldn't call it earth exactly, but tar is pretty much the same when it comes down to it. I smell of turpentine and don a dilapidated straw hat, so I'm not the best company to keep. The worst part of it is that Brer Fox went up and forgot to give me a mouth. To think of how simple it would have been for him! Just a poke under my nose would have sufficed perfectly! All I am able to do is sit here and ruminate while my molasses heap of a body melts and bubbles under the unforgiving, albeit cheerful, Southern sun.
Ah! Here comes someone now to break up my tedious monologue. Looks like it's a rabbit in overalls. If that's the case, I must be getting heatstroke. Here we go; he's walking straight towards me.
"Mawnin'! Nice wedder dis mawin'"
What in the world did he just say!? I cannot understand him to save my life. I'm struggling to form words, but I quickly remember my lack of a voice. My only response is the sound of the bubbling tar on my body.
"How you come on, den? Is you deaf? Kaze if you is, I kin holler louder."
I wish I could just tell him what the deal is. He seems to be a pretty gentle person.
"You er stuck up, dat's w'at you is, en I'm gwine ter kyore you, dat's w'at I'm a gwine ter do."
I've stopped listened to what he says, and can you blame me? I can barely distinguish his vowels from his consonants. I'll just wait here until he gets bored and leaves me alone.
SMACK!
Holy cow! He hit me! What in the world did I do to deserve this? To be honest, it was a really bad decision on his part. His fist sank deep into my molten jaw. Looks like we're hitched.
"Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you again"
Listen man, if I could speak, I explain everything. But still, I can't just 'unmelt' myself.
WHAM!
Well, there go his feet. I can tell where this is heading. At least I'll have company from now on.
Author's Note: I decided to write from the Tar-Baby's perspective in one of the first stories in the Brer Rabbit I unit. Though this, I wanted to also make a satirical comment on how well the dialect is written in the original story.
Bibliography:
Joel Chandler Harris
Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings
1881
Ah! Here comes someone now to break up my tedious monologue. Looks like it's a rabbit in overalls. If that's the case, I must be getting heatstroke. Here we go; he's walking straight towards me.
"Mawnin'! Nice wedder dis mawin'"
What in the world did he just say!? I cannot understand him to save my life. I'm struggling to form words, but I quickly remember my lack of a voice. My only response is the sound of the bubbling tar on my body.
"How you come on, den? Is you deaf? Kaze if you is, I kin holler louder."
I wish I could just tell him what the deal is. He seems to be a pretty gentle person.
"You er stuck up, dat's w'at you is, en I'm gwine ter kyore you, dat's w'at I'm a gwine ter do."
 |
| My encounter with Mr. Rabbit. Wikipedia Commons. |
SMACK!
Holy cow! He hit me! What in the world did I do to deserve this? To be honest, it was a really bad decision on his part. His fist sank deep into my molten jaw. Looks like we're hitched.
"Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you again"
Listen man, if I could speak, I explain everything. But still, I can't just 'unmelt' myself.
WHAM!
Well, there go his feet. I can tell where this is heading. At least I'll have company from now on.
Author's Note: I decided to write from the Tar-Baby's perspective in one of the first stories in the Brer Rabbit I unit. Though this, I wanted to also make a satirical comment on how well the dialect is written in the original story.
Bibliography:
Joel Chandler Harris
Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings
1881
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)