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

Let’s say—future

Imagine a simple word—let’s say—future, spoken as if it were native
to my mother tongue. It would sound something akin to foo-too-re,
with the last e pronounced as in the verb get. It sounds rather ridiculous,
doesn’t it? Perhaps this will allow you to be in my shoes for a moment,
so you know my feelings when I hear you say my name like it’s English.
It may be hard to believe, but the letters of the most widely used script,
the Latin alphabet, do not necessarily represent the same sounds
as in the current lingua franca.

Getting the impossible

Being you, if I met myself, the first thing I would notice
about me was how unsure of myself I am at my age.

I know well that this is not a face from a film poster
that is staring at me in the mirror, not to mention all the great minds
of whom even the shadow is beyond my reach. Perhaps I could at least shave
more often, but only if you insist. I guess it’s never too late
to learn something new,

like your language, but out of sheer convenience,
I would rather stick to the lingua franca, knowing that an accent
always reveals my origin. And maybe I will finally get your obsession
with Virginie Lebeau and François de Paule,
although you are probably just a little snobbish.

Being myself, if I met you, the first thing I would notice
about me was that I had finally lost it, as you can’t be real,

can you?