home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
Cream of the Crop 26
/
Cream of the Crop 26.iso
/
educate
/
trutran2.zip
/
SPRAY.TXT
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1997-05-21
|
9KB
|
183 lines
*** PRESS ANY KEY TO SEE THE NEXT SCREEN ***
If you wish to print this article or view it in its
entirety, please load it into your word processor
as SPRAY.TXT.
*********************************
* For an overview of these *
* articles, please first read *
* the file ARTICLE0.SEE *
*********************************
HOW SERIOUSLY SHOULD THE COMPARISON BETWEEN LANGUAGE AND
ANIMAL SPRAY BE TAKEN?
A few admirers of "Truth About Translation, Version 1.00"
have asked me how seriously the idea of "language as spray,"
as presented in the segment "Spray It Again, Sam," is meant
to be taken. I'm attempting to answer this question in two
ways in what follows, first as an informal and only slightly
edited reply to someone who asked me this question on the Net,
and second as a more formal definition of 'Language'
incorporating this idea. Here comes the more informal
reply:
Good question. Am i entirely serious about the spray idea?
Amswer: yes and no. Of course we all want and need to
believe that the words and ideas-rooted-in-words that we
cherish have some value beyond being mere "animal spray."
And i'm no exception. On the other hand, everything we call
language could indeed end up looking like not much more than
animal spray to some extra-terrestrial or otherwise
relatively objective observer able to see humankind and
human-not-so-kind more in the round than we do. Seen from
this perspective, i really wonder if language might not
appear to be some kind of frothy, humid extrusion we carry
around with us and refer to inside out heads and/or project
onto the outside world as extended territorial markings, all
of which we suppose to be the true shape of both internal
and external reality. And that's just the spoken form of
language--the written form may be even more insubstantial.
Since you are a linguist, you know that all languages try to
describe the real world, but that they also end up
describing it more or less differently in a remarkable
number of cases. And since every human being is an
individual, we all end up throwing in our own smaller
differences into the mix our culture hands us. A number of
philosophical and linguistic "realists" (the Chomskians are
only the latest among them) have wanted to believe that
there is an underlying "reality" beyond all these different
descriptions. Here again, i think i'd say "yes and no."
And i don't think that's really hedging on the issue--it
might just qualify as confronting it squarely.
In other words, let's just play with the idea--without
NECESSARILY taking it seriously--that our languages (and
perhaps even our understanding) might simply be a damp and
dubious outer coating, an actual biological, evolution-
determined extension of ourselves that we carry around with
us, even though it has no physical form or shape, something
that we can neither see nor see beyond. The proof that it
exists is simply all the ways we act and interact every day,
all the ways we understand and misunderstand each other, all
those mistakes or shortcomings in translation between two
languages or merely understanding a single one we commit
without ever being aware of them. i wonder if this
comparison to animal spray is really much more far-fetched
or counter-intuitive or totally crazier than some of the
cosmological and molecular theories going the rounds with
their supposed galactic soap bubbles and vast clouds of
virtual particles perpetually switching on and off in the
middle of vast intergalactic vacuums.
i also find it quite revealing that this idea of language
being related to animal spray or 'scent markings" should
seem to have such a high shock value, at least for some
people. Biologists have never hesitated to call scent
markings a form of communication, so the only issue that
seems to be shocking some people is that these scent
markings have here been directly compared to human
language and found anlogous if not identical. The usual
approach to describing human language is usually much more
sanctimonious and self-congratulatory. The ultimate proof
that we humans must be superior to all other animals, we are
often told, is that we alone have invented language.
"Language"--invariably with a capital L--is far beyond the
capability of all other species, who can therefore only be
inferior to us. Language separates us from the beasts! But
if true, why are we so defensive--and so arrogant--about
this supposed mark of superiority?
Certainly language is far more complex than any system of
animal signals so far studied, even though this could simply
be due to the fact that we are interested in all sorts of
matters that animals find relatively unimportant. But the
resistance by some to the notion that language and animal
spray could be linked may tell us more about ourselves than
we care to admit.
The anger provoked by this notion, seemingly so counter-
intuitive for so many observers, may come close to
recalling the first reactions to Darwin's theory that man
and ape might share a common ancestor. Or Galileo's support
of Copernicus that the earth might be round. Or Einstein's
insistance that light could actually be in motion through
space at a specific and measurable rate. Whatever the final
truth about human language and animal spray may finally
prove to be, perhaps no theory capable of irritating so
many people can be entirely mistaken.
In the mean time, here is the more formal reply to this
question. It takes the form of a definition of "Language,"
as seen through the defining lens of this theory:
"Language. Any of the numerous complex systems of
exudations or spray-sound markings emitted by human beings
and projected onto objects, other human beings, abstract
processes, and seemingly repeatable occurrences. Frequently
used as defensive barriers against reality, these networks
of exudations purport to define, describe, explain,
and classify relationships, artefacts, and value systems
created by the human beings who produce the exudations.
More or less similar systems of humid markings are shared by
various groups of humans, these groups sometimes being known
as families, tribes, nations, or cultures, and are commonly
called "languages." Such systems vary to a greater or
lesser extent among these groups, and a process of
integration or disintegration in these systems can be
readily identified throughout history and in human society
today. On a biological and evolutionary scale, these
systems may have evolved over time from analogous systems of
scent markings produced by many animals for territorial
and/or mating purposes. The territorial nature of human
language, along with its similarity to animal markings, is
evident in warfare, negotiations for contracts, and much
academic feuding.
Specific systems of these markings as well as individual
spray-sounds purporting to identify perceived objective
realities or perceived relationships vary greatly among
groups of humans. Over the centuries various attempts have
been made to establish a unifying principle linking these
systems, such as a "universal grammar" or a "conceptual
glossary," but no such attempt has as yet proved entirely
successful. Qualified mediators between two systems, known
as "translators" or "interpreters," have often enjoyed some
success in converting between specific pairs of these
systems, depending on the complexity of the material at hand
and the skill or ingenuity of the individual translator or
interpreter.
This idea is discussed further in Section 3 of the program
itself and also in ARTICLE1.
Copyright (C) 1997 by Alexander Gross