The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.
I felt my linguistic limits extended when I learned Dutch about 17 years ago. Each language has words in it that don’t exist in any other tongue, and one of the greatest joys of speaking another language is stretching your mind to encompass this new vocabulary. Gezellig is a word like that in Dutch. It has so many nuanced meanings that it’s impossible to find a simple English equivalent. Indeed, there is no single English equivalent since gezellig is a word that expresses a distinctly Dutch state of mind. It means different things in different circumstances. An evening with friends can be gezellig, meaning friendly and intimate and fun. But inanimate objects can also be gezellig, like a room with a roaring fire in the fireplace, meaning cozy and inviting. But an individual can also be gezellig, meaning that he or she is warm and welcoming. It was not until I learned Dutch, and came to understand the meaning of this word, that I was able to recognize the quality of gezelligheid when I saw it. This not only added a new word to my vocabulary; it added a new experience to my world.
And so it is with my daughter. At almost four years old, she is intrepidly exploring the world of words, experimenting with language to see which words cause happiness, which words cause pain, which words make people laugh, which words make them cry. By trying out words like ‘annoying’, ’shut up’ and ’shit’ on me, she’s testing to see if they cause the desired effect. This is something we never stop doing. What American poet John Hall Wheelock wrote is just as true of adults as it is for children:
A child, when it begins to speak, learns what it is that it knows.
When I started reading your post, I thought, man is he ever going to rue the day he told his daugher it’s okay to use the word “annoying.” You’ll no doubt find, if you haven’t already, that it will morph into “like, so annoying” and often come prefaced with “like, you are…”
I was also interested in your experience with your children using epletives. I have two kids, ages 7 and 14, and I don’t recall one of them ever using a “bad” word. Although my wife and I rarely swear, I at least, am not totally innocent in that regard. And the children have certainly been exposed to it on the streets and subways (we live in Brooklyn were “the motherfucking nigger” has replaced “my good friend” in colloquial usage. And they see plenty of movies, as well.
Although I have, on occassion, mentioned that they should never use “those words” I’ve never shielded them from them or made a big deal out of it. And I’ve seen a few of my daughter’s instant messaging exchanges and found that among her friends she is as potty-mouthed as any other fourteen year old. I think that’s what separates people as much as anything: the ability to recognize and use language that is appropriate to the situation (bet there’s an aphorism for that somewhere, eh).
Anyway, no point there beyond that I share your interest in language development (and aphorisms as well). I’m happy to have stumbled across your blog (thank the IHT).
Regards…
Is gezellig akin to the German gemutlich and the French sympathique?
Gemutlich just about covers it, but sympathique does not have the same broad range of applications…
“sympa” and sympathique may have lost meaning from being overused, but they do have the same use for both atmosphere in a room or place and a person - however the term is suffering from the same effect in English as “its nice in here” or “he’s nice.” Gemutlich and gezellig have that inference of welcoming and warmth and are more imagistic,they are beautiful words.
I remember reading in a novel one older man telling a younger one that having one language was like only having one eye, and remembering it quitwe often when I got the feeling James described from a French word.