The next lingua franca

When I think of a lingua franca, the first thing that comes to mind is Latin, which shouldn’t be all that surprising, if only for the centuries of dashing strides of Roman legionaries across the Mediterranean world, much of Western Europe, the Balkans, Crimea, and vast regions of the Middle East, including Anatolia, the Levant, and parts of Mesopotamia and Arabia. But Latin held strong even after the fall of the Roman Empire, although its status as the official language of the Croatian parliament as late as the mid-nineteenth century is more of a curiosity than the norm. Nevertheless, the first truly global lingua franca was French—to think that it all began with the Ordinance of Villers-Cotterêts—and its undivided reign in courts and salons, universities and military headquarters, received its first blow only when the Treaty of Versailles was also drawn up in English. And so here we are—with the language of Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen and Orwell—producing literature, scholarly works and manuals by the mile and wondering what will come next—Chinese perhaps? But I have a hunch that the next truly global lingua franca will be 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001, but that is going to be as relevant to us as the invention of the washing machine was to the dinosaurs.


More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

Journal (The art of translation)

Translation is a tricky endeavour, and you can easily spot the problems if you happen to know both the language of the original text and of the translation, as it happened for me in the case of Diary by my favourite Polish intellectualist, Witold Gombrowicz, which I have in two editions, original and translated into English, and frankly, I’m not particularly fond of the latter.

This particular text aside, it’s one thing if the root of the problem lies in semantic equivalence, but it’s something else entirely if contortions, whether accidental or intentional, come into play, as in the quotation from Cicero’s Tusculanæ Disputationes that I found in The Essays of Montaigne—Volume 05 by Michel de Montaigne, translated by Charles Cotton. “Hanc amplissimam omnium artium bene vivendi disciplinam, vita magis quam literis, persequuti sunt.” is translated as “They have proceeded to this discipline of living well, which of all arts is the greatest, by their lives, rather than by their reading.”

Apart from the fact that in the original this is not an independent sentence but the conclusion of a longer one, it has misspelt two words since the original text is “hanc amplissimam omnium artium, bene vivendi disciplinam, vita magis quam litteris persecuti sunt.” (Tusculanae Disputationes, M. Tullius Cicero, M. Pohlenz, Leipzig, 1918), and in translation by Charles Duke Yonge, for example, it reads as follows: “yet promoted this most extensive of all arts, the principle of living well, even more by their life than by their writings.”

Someone might accuse me of nitpicking details, but I see fundamental differences between “proceeded” and “promoted”, and “their reading” and “their writings”.