Spelling rationales – the challenge of writing English, Hebrew and French

 

Learning how to speak a language is intuitive. With a little bit of effort, courage and humility, it is possible to learn how to speak a language without formally studying it. Every child, regardless of intelligence, learns how to speak to one degree or another of skill. By contrast, writing a language is a great challenge for many people. I personally can attest to my complete insecurity regarding the correct spelling of words in English, Hebrew and French. Yet, I admit that the apparent randomness of a spelling system can reflect historical realities or grammar rules, whose challenges can be overcome with modern computer systems.

Let us begin with the most common language of communication (not necessarily first language), English. Both native and non-native speakers have a litany of complaints about inconsistent connections between letters and sounds. A few examples will suffice: through vs tough; know, low vs women; receive vs weigh; and time vs action. For the uninitiated, there is a higher chance to succeed in blackjack than in English spelling. Some people blame Samuel Johnson in 1755 or maybe Robert Cawdrey before him in 1604 for writing the first dictionaries and creating this chaos. Alas, they are not guilty. Distance creates diversity of pronunciation, even today, and, thus, a lack of predictability. In many parts of the world, listeners immediately can tell where a person grew up just by hearing certain sounds or words. In parts of pre-literacy England and to a certain extent today, people did pronounce those words exactly as they were written, especially the guttural sounds, kn and gh. In fact, in one older English manuscript,  the modern word girl is written ghurl, something that an Arabic speaker or a Scot would have no problem saying. Thus, English spelling is really phonetic but only for some people at some time in history. The rest of us have to memorize it somehow.

Time and distance have also affected Hebrew. In theory, every letter in an alphabet represents a different sound. In ancient Hebrew, each letter was pronounced in a manner distinct from each other. However, in modern Hebrew, many, if not most, Israelis do not generally pronounce the following letters in clearly distinct ways: alef א and ayin ע, an a sound; kuf ק and kof כּ, a k sound; sin שׂ and samech ס, an s sound; tof ת and tet ט, a t sound; het ח  and kof כ, a ch sound. True, eastern (mizhahi) Jews, especially Yemenites, have to a certain extent retained the historical pronunciation differences but people generally do not annunciate the distinctions between the letters. As a result, as an immigrant that arrived in Israel as an adult and never studied the language at school, I am uncertain. Which is happiness and which is wealth, אושר [osher] or עושר [o’sher]?. Did I confuse every and voice in כל קול [kol kol]? Did I write that I need time עת or a pen אט, both pronounced [et]? Which is form and which is grab, טפוס [tofes] or תופס [tofes]? The actual key is to know the root of the word, which indicates the correct letter to be used. While it does increase the odds of a correct guess, not every Israeli, not to mention immigrants, feels absolute certainty when writing Hebrew.

As for French, it seems to me that framers of the language chose ease of speaking over simplicity of writing, plausibly using Latin rules of grammar as the excuse. To explain, it is possible to represent the long a sound, as in the a in the word late in English, in 13 different ways (forgive me if I missed a few). The following words all end in a long a: donner, donnez, donné, donnée, donnés, données, donnais, donnait, donnaient, donnerai, les, abeilles, et and forêt. For non-French speakers, the meanings are to give, you give, given (n), given (f), given (pl), given (f. pl), you gave, he gave, they gave, I will give, the, bees, and and forest, respectively. That is one impressive haul of uses for one sound. The price for such efficiency is, of course, the difficulty in knowing how to write the correct form. Since the establishment of universal schooling in France in 1882, generations of French children have had to work hard to master the rules of grammar required to know when the correct tense endings, when to add the silent e and s to the past participle and which letters are the end of a specific noun. The results, then and now, are far from perfect. Actually, I find French spelling relatively easy because I understand these rules. I find it convenient that they are based on grammar, not history.

Those of us that doubt our spelling, rightly or wrongly, and double-check all words can feel a little bit relieved. Like some exes said, it is not you; it is the language. Spelling has its own logic, one that is unconcerned about mere mortals, whether they are native or non-native speakers. Fortunately, word processing, applications and AI have made it quite convenient to identify and fix any embarrassing errors. These tools do not eliminate the need to actually know the language as you still must choose the right word when two words with different meanings sound the same but are spelled differently, e.g., too vs two in English, but at least, we don’t have to look idiots when we write. We don’t have to feel like idiots either since, while there is a rationale to spelling rules in fact, it is one that often makes no sense to us.

 Do you need an official document translated? See this article: https://lnkd.in/eDB3hsvn

If you are a translator interested in entering the official translation niche, the ATA and I are offering a three-lecture webinar on the field, with the first one just around the corner, on July 30. See the registration: https://lnkd.in/ePQ5PbYv

Bonjour tristesse or beautifully sad stories

 

A story becomes extraordinary when it creates an impact, intellectual or emotional. The sign of such a tale is when it occupies one’s thoughts for days, weeks or even years. The nature and quality of the form is far less important than its essence. For example, one of the strongest feelings a human being can experience is loneliness. Despite its universal nature, it is a difficult state to render into words and images. Three examples of the successful transmission of deep and sad isolation are the books Grey Souls (Les Ames grises), written by Phillippe Claudel and translated into English from French by Hoyt Rogers, and The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James and the Italian movie We all loved each other so much (C'eravamo tanto amati), directed by Ettore Scola. In my experience, each created a haunting feeling that remains in one’s consciousness long after one has forgotten the actual details.

Grey Souls is a story about a small village in France during World War I located within shouting distance of the fighting. The atmosphere is grey not only due to the weather and factory fumes but also from the sadness created by the convoys of wounded soldiers passing through the town and hopelessness of the situation. In this novel, four females of different ages die, each under different circumstances. The novel essentially recounts the impact of these deaths on several individuals, important people in the community, through the eyes of a simple policeman, one of those affected. The writing, at least in translation, is also rather gray, i.e., indirect and amorphous. At the end, the reader learns how and why each of these women died but it is almost irrelevant. The dominant feeling is the loneliness and misery of the men affected by their deaths, a feeling that remains long after the reader finished the book.

Another amazing and sad book is Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady, dating from the late 19^th century. The story is different but the sensation at the end is rather similar. The writer was the brother of William James, known as the “father of American psychology”. His sister was Alice James, a famous diarist of the time. Their impact can be seen in this book. In the story, a young American woman, Isabel Archer, goes to Europe to find a husband as was the practice in certain circles at the time. She attracts quite a few men but rejects all those that would want to marry her for love. Instead, she is attracted to a charming social magnet. By the end of the book, the only pleasure the couple has is hosting parties because they are able to not invite certain people. Her life at the end of the book seems so deeply and irrevocably miserable, a feeling reinforced by the contrast with all the hope and joy of the beginning. It feels like an emotional suicide, one not that far from what real people do.

In other media, the Italian movie We all loved each other so much tells the story of three friends who fought together as partisans during World War II. After the war, each of the men builds his life: one works as a hospital orderly; one becomes a poor teacher and intellectual; and one marries the daughter of a rich industrialist. The final scene is haunting in its starkness. The first two friends, laughing and joking, walk by the large villa owned by the third. They see him swimming by himself in a large pool right after his wife and children walked out on him and keep on walking. The sadness of his isolation and loneliness, amplified by the simple happiness of his two former friends, is hard to forget.

None of these works are easy or even necessarily pleasant. However, they are stories that resonate. They evoke strong feelings, which can be both heavy but also enlightening. As such, they are worthy of note. Françoise Sagan’s Bonjour Tristesse is a story of regret and sadness. These works are so impactful because of the great sadness they evoke but most people have no regret experiencing them. Exceptional art can and maybe should express strong emotion.

Freelancers, price negotiations and opportunity cost – a resulting tale

 

Freelancers set their own prices and must, therefore, negotiate them. Many customers, especially from the Middle and Far East, relish price haggling and practice it at every opportunity. This face-off presents the entrepreneur with a set of choices, namely if and how much to bend. Yet, in deciding how much to handle these negotiations, many solo businesspeople forget the impact of opportunity cost, a factor that cannot be ignored. I will share my experience dealing with this situation, a positive one I am happy to say, and my analysis of the potential outcomes.

To begin, it is important to define the term opportunity cost. The basis is the assumption, generally true of freelance work, that a person working on Project 1 at a specific moment cannot take on Project 2 at the exact same time, i.e., the cost of taking on Project 1 is the inability to accept Project 2. This cost is most noticeable on larger projects that require many hours or several days to complete. Its verbal expression is the outcry “Why did I agree to this job? Now, I can’t take on that project!” Of course, in some cases, it is possible to work almost simultaneously on two different projects or outsource one of them. Even more importantly, the cost is only potential as it is generally impossible to know if and when a better project will arrive in your email. Thus, opportunity cost can be high, but it is uncertain.

This week, an established customer contacted me about certified translation of some 7 personal documents from Hebrew to English. I provided a quote, which was immediately followed by a significantly lower counteroffer. I made a small concession to no avail. The next day, the customer sent me an amended package, 4 of the 7 documents. The result was the same, but without any concession to price on my part. The following day, the customer informed me that it had found another service provider. All this correspondence took almost an hour. Most curiously, several hours later, a new customer contacted me with an interesting new project, a certified translation of a Russian-English asylum request, and immediately agreed to the quoted price and deadline. The invoiced amount was much higher with very few additional hours. On this occasion, I came out ahead in all respects.

In terms of odds,  a positive result is highly probable in this situation. If the customer refuses to compromise and I lose the order, my maximum potential loss is a small amount of income and future business. Neither the insistence nor the loss of the customer is certain. It is quite possible that this buyer will return to me. Meanwhile, I may and did gain a new customer and quality project, which is far more valuable separately and together than the original project. If no new project appears in the immediate timeframe, I lose a small amount of business but I can use that time for alternative activities, e.g., marketing, physical exercise, viewing webinars or watching Wimbledon, each valuable in its own way. Thus, standing firm on prices requires faith but is often the correct strategy.

Therefore, if faced with the demand for compromise beyond their point of comfort, freelancers should remember that every choice carries an opportunity cost. It may help them make the decision that provides the greatest probability of a successful result, however one defines success. As they say in Hebrew, if you are not for yourself, who will be?