Diacritiques

Via Bridget Samuels de chez ilani ilani nous apprenons que le conseil de l’Association Phonétique Internationale vient de rajouter le caractère ci-contre, un v avec un crochet droit, à l’API. Il symbolise une consonne battue labio-dentale. Pour produire ce son, il faut faire rentrer la lèvre inférieure à l’intérieur de la bouche et la faire claquer contre les dents en la sortant. D’accord, il va falloir que je m’entraîne si un jour je décide d’apprendre le Mono, ou une autre langue africaine ayant ce phonème dans son répertoire.

Les dernières versions béta des polices Doulos SIL et Charis SIL“>Charis SIL contiennent le v-crochet-droit dans leur « espace à usage privé » (c’est-à-dire il manque encore dans Unicode). Si vous avez l’une de ces polices sur votre ordinateur, vous pouvez le voir ici: . (Dans le cas contraire vous verrez n’importe quoi.)

Article intéressant de Michael Erard dans le New York Times d’aujourd’hui (inscription requise), sur le livre et la base de données Ethnologue, publiés par le Summer Institute of Linguistics (S.I.L.).

C’est une source d’informations indispensable pour quiconque s’intéresse aux langues du monde. Les travaux du S.I.L. couvrent non seulement la recherche linguistique, mais aussi la typographie (encodage de systèmes d’écriture de langues rares, polices de caractères multilingues en UTF-8…).

L’article ne cache pas les racines particulières de cet ouvrage de référence. En effet, tout a débuté avec un guide pour les missionnaires chrétiens concernant des langues pour lesquelles il n’y avait pas de traduction de la bible. Et certains linguistes s’offusquent du caractère non-laïque de l’entreprise (caractère qui néanmoins ne saute pas aux yeux des utilisateurs du site) :

Denny Moore, linguiste au Musée Goeldi à Belém, Brésil, dit via e-mail : « Il est absurde de considérer le S.I.L. comme une agence de préservation quand il fait précisément le contraire. Notez qu’avec l’extermination des religions indigènes toutes les formules cérémonielles, chants, musique et art associés à la religion disparaissent également. »

[V.O. : Denny Moore, a linguist with the Goeldi Museum in Belém, Brazil, said via e-mail: “It is absurd to think of S.I.L. as an agency of preservation, when they do just the opposite. Note that along with the extermination of native religion, all the ceremonial speech forms, songs, music and art associated with the religion disappear too.”]

En revanche, d’autres soulignent les effets bénéfiques des travaux :

La plupart des linguistes ne s’inquiètent pas des affiliations du S.I.L. « Si vous enleviez toute la littérature produite par les gens du S.I.L. depuis 60 ans, dit le D^r Ruhlen de l’université de Stanford, vous enlèveriez beaucoup de documentation pour des langues pour lesquelles il n’existe rien du tout. »

[V.O. : Most linguists are unfazed at S.I.L.’s affiliations. “If you took away all the literature done by the S.I.L. people done in the last 60 years,” said Dr. Ruhlen of Stanford, “you’d be taking away a lot of language documentation for a lot of languages for which there’s nothing at all.”]

If this had been posted on about any other day of the year, I’d have loved to check out the C++ version of The Mill on the Floss. (Yet another Victorian novel I never finished. Not yet anyway. Don’t take me wrong, I am very fond of Jude the Obscure and liked Wuthering Heights quite a lot. It’s a concentration issue, most likely).

But lacking this, at least there’s are real, existing translation of Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky into ActionScript. An excerpt (six lines’ worth, to be precise) goes thusly:

son.beware (jabberwocky);
son.beware (bird.jubjub);
son.shun (bandersnatch['frumious']);
sword.setType(vorpal);
var time = getTimer();
with (sword in hand) {
  while (getTimer() < = time + 100000000) {
    for (var i = 0; i <= foe.length; i++ ) {
      if (foe[i] == 'manxome') {
         break;
      }
    }
  }
}

(Here is a collection of translations of the poem into human languages.)

In the French blogospheric segment, Jean Véronis treats us to a prime example of the genre, starting out with something so reasonable that it sure not to happen, and finishing on the topic of … “digitising”, or scanning, historical Google screenshots. Digitising, mon œil, as they say here. (I really should comment on Mark Liberman’s coverage (start here and follow the links backwards) of storm in that particular tea cup — a very small tea cup, I might say, but since it contains the French president, there may be some lasting effects.)

On the absolutely serious side, Eolas, a French law blogger (and ruthless capitalist, which is a tautology), prepares us for what is to come by explaining point for point how new popes are elected, as usual with a keen eye for the legal side of the matter. Truly a fo(u)nt of knowledge. His article reminds me of one of the best history books I’ve ever read, Mario Biagioli’s Galileo, Courtier. One point of maybe mostly anectotal interest, but which has stuck with me, was that even as late as in Galileo’s time, the time that the cardinals spent tucked away in the Sistine Chapel to elect a new pope used to be enough of a physical strain that several of them could be expected not to survive the ordeal. Which, in turn, gave the new pope the occasion to strengthen his own political faction.

Eolas, who professes himself a Catholic, deals with matters of religion in a refreshingly incisive tone. I particularly enjoyed his account of the lawsuit that recently got an advert censored in France because it supposedly insulted Catholic sensibilities (the imagery alludes to Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper and beyond that to the biblical passage, of course). Eolas first speaks as a lawyer (the judgement was slightly unusual in that it went against the prosecution’s opinion, which was that there was nothing wrong with the image), then as a Catholic. (For the record, while I am no great friend of advertising and don’t think that the ad’s ban is certainly no great loss for the art scene, I find it disturbing that a non-profit, which is affiliated with the official church hierarchy, succeeded in having it censored; and disappointed that they tried in the first place — but I’ve said before that I’m getting cynical about that.)

Update: On the topic of the first part of this post, I came across this post on linguaphiles, about an Austronesian relative of Basque. Much, much better than Google Gulp.

Si vous sortez de déménager au ras de chez votre grand-père (qui a travaillé dans les clos d’huile et souffre maintenant d’oppression), et vous vous adonnez bien avec vos nouveaux voisins — vous les voyez souvent équand vous espérez le transfert (il faudrait vraiment acheter un char), et vous donnez des cours a leur petit, […]

Mark Liberman at Language Log has posted a second transcribe-and-guess-the-language quiz. I believe most readers of this blog interested in this sort of question, so you probably know this already. As one of those who got the first one right, I couldn’t resist of course. (More seriously, though, it’s an excellent exercise.) I have followed my […]

First of all, I was right, and so was caelestis at (or le?) sauvage noble: the mystery language is Romansh. It is interesting to look at the differences between our approaches. Caelestis writes in his comment section: For the record, I should state that all I went on was the MP3, the exercise having […]

This is a reply to Mark Liberman’s challenge to a) guess the language on a recording and b) transcribe it. I’ve never transcribed anything but English, and this more often into phonemes than phonetically (ie, writing down actual heard sounds, which is much more difficult). Even though I’m not a card-carrying linguist (but seriously thinking […]