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.
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| 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. |
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.
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