The only language I ever really learned was Latin. I took Latin for four years in high school, and I did very well, and could almost speak it. A dead language does not provide many other speakers to talk to, of course, but after learning as much as I could, I realized that I could understand the Romance languages more easily. I was by no means fluent in any of these, but could struggle my way through Spanish for a few simple interactions. The vocabularies’ similarities made me appreciate the connections between languages, but more importantly appreciate the form and structure of inflected languages. The rules of conjugation and declension strike me as very conducive to learning, and the thrill of discovering and “getting” the rules to a language, and being able to gracefully identify and adapt words to flow in their pattern, became one of the greatest academic and personal joys I have ever experienced.
On the other hand, I did not enjoy memorizing vocabulary. Naturally, without a strong vocabulary base, I could not say anything meaningful, but acquiring a useful set was somewhat tedious. The most frustrating part to memorization was knowing all the exceptions to rules, but I took relief in knowing that I had learned the exceptions to English language rules, so I should be able to do the same with Latin and now Greek.
I am very much a visual learner, and cannot memorize a word easily unless I hear it repeated many times in context or see it written down once or twice. AS cliché as it might sound, I learn bet using flashcards, although I almost never use them (I’ve gone through maybe 100 cards since grade school). Quizzing with cards is very useful when I do do it, but I like to try to “reverse-engineer” a word’s meaning by scouring it for a meaningful shared root in English. I like to figure things out myself, although I have come to wrong etymological conclusions more than once. Seeing the word helps it stick more in my head, because although I am far from having a photographic memory, I memorize the shapes of letters and the shape of a written word as a whole, and associate the word and its meaning with the picture in my head. Secondarily, I like to learn with my hands, kinesthetically, but I really don’t know specifically form that kind of learning will take, but I know that if I am introduced to a specific object, and can hold it in my hands, then its name can stick in my head more firmly.
We might work on Greek by stepping through books and movies with subtitles. I think I might even benefit from reading children’s books with pictures, so that I can associate a visual and grammatical experience with each other. While it might seem childlike, I think it could be the most useful way to learn. I learned English as a child this way, and I wound up fluent, so why change what we know works? Since I know no Greek, I think this would be most effective, since I cannot build higher knowledge from any previous base of simpler concepts.
I really am looking forward to learning Greek this semester, and while I know I will not become fluent at the end of that time, and probably not even proficient, I enjoy the adventure of throwing myself into an almost completely unexplored (for me) topic, and fighting my way to join others in understanding. After reading a bit about the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, I’m also excited to discover what unseen colors, overlooked nuances, and unfelt emotions I will become privy to during my pursuit of a new language.
Comments
Great post, Daniel! Your prior study of Latin will undoubtedly help you in Greek. The same way Latin helped you with Romance languages, you will find that Greek will subsequently inform your understanding of Hellenic languages, as well as Slavic languages with Cyrillic/Eastern Orthodox roots. I'm glad you've started thinking about the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. This is a pivotal idea introduced the course. Learning a new language allows you to see the world through a new lens, and it comprises a central theory underscoring the cognitive implications for both processing and producing linguistic speech.
When we get to our unit on morphology, we'll discuss inflection in greater detail. Every language makes use of inflection, albeit in varying degrees. Latin and Greek, for instance, are said to be heavily or strongly inflected, whereas English conveys weak inflection, since it operates with only a limited handful of inflectional units. It's great that you've started thinking about rules governing declension and conjugation. Languages tend to combine regular and irregular patterns. In weeks 8-9, we'll talk about the types of conditioning used to delineate these patterns, but I strongly suspect Smaragda will begin with regular patterns, so you can apply the same permutations to different words. This kind of thing is common with the English declension for plural- 'books', 'lights' and 'chairs' all indicate the regular plural ending /-s/, but you may also irregular plural endings in words like 'children' 'feet', 'mice', etc.
Vocabulary acquisition is one of the hardest components associated with learning a language. There is research suggesting that vocabulary learning through flashcards works better for short-term memory recall, as opposed to long-term. I applaud your idea to study the etymology, derivation, and connections between new words. This will deepen your knowledge of the word units. Linguists tend to promote an immersive approach to vocabulary acquisition. Instead of looking at a table and having to translate the reference word into to Greek, eventually you will want to look at a table, and without even thinking about switching between linguistic contexts, you should instantaneously recognize both the sense and reference of "τραπέζι". The distinction between sense and reference is introduced in one of the subsequent readings by D. Crystal, but it also alludes to Platonic and Aristotelian terms of form and empiricism. More on this in class on Tuesday!