Social Justice and the Legitimacy of Slavery: The Role of Philosophical Asceticism from Ancient Judaism to Late Antiquity 1st Edition Ilaria L.E. Ramelli
“This book provides the first comprehensive study of language legitimacy and social justice. It tackles the very real problem of language prejudice and offers solutions to dealing with this problem. Dr. Reagan has spent his entire career debunking misconceptions about the ‘value’ of one language or one dialect over another and consolidates his findings here with reference to a substantial body of previous research covering a wide variety of languages.”
—Frank Nuessel,
University of Louisville, USA
Timothy Reagan
Linguistic Legitimacy and Social Justice
Timothy Reagan College of Education & Human Development
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Preface
It has become increasingly common for scholars, especially in the humanities and social sciences, to begin discussions about their research with a description of their ‘positionality’ vis-à-vis the topic(s) of their research. The underlying purpose of such descriptions is to recognize that no matter how hard we may try, ‘objectivity’ is not really possible. Each of us is the result of the complex nexus of our background, social context and setting, race, gender, and so on, and these factors will inevitably impact how we construct reality. Descriptions of positionality are especially important in studies addressing individuals and groups who are different from those studying them in important, sometimes fundamental, ways. In this book, I describe and discuss a number of very different speech communities with which I have different kinds of connections. Further, although I have had fairly extensive experiences dealing with each of the speech communities that are discussed in this book, I am not a member (or insider) of any of them. For the purposes of clarifying my own positionality in terms of the speech communities discussed here, I am a white, heterosexual American Jewish male—but one with a somewhat unusual linguistic background that no doubt colors some of my thinking about language diversity.
I consider myself to have been extremely fortunate, in part because I have spent my life surrounded by a variety of different languages. As a child, on a fairly regular basis (indeed, most often on a daily basis), in
addition to English, I heard German, Hungarian, Polish and Yiddish spoken around me. I remember being aware of this linguistic diversity, but I have no memory of ever considering it odd, strange or unusual—it was simply the way that the world was. For much of my schooling, the vast majority of my classmates spoke African American English, though none of us would have recognized it as a distinctive language at the time. It was simply another way of talking and communicating, though obviously not the one used by our teachers. At school, many of my friends and I studied French, but to be honest, I did not do so with any great enthusiasm (or success)—but then, unlike the other languages that surrounded me, French seemed unnatural, artificial and somehow alien to my reality. Later on, I studied Afrikaans, American Sign Language, Latin, Russian, Spanish, and Zulu, and gained varying degrees of fluency in each of them. I was also lucky because my parents were speakers of Standard American English. There are few possessions more valuable in our society than the ability to speak standard English in what is considered to be the most prestigious way, and this is an ability that I inherited from my parents. Although the central theme of this book is that there is no such thing as a non-legitimate language, whatever that might mean, and that all languages are fundamentally of equal value linguistically, this does not mean that the lack of the ability to speak the socially, politically, economically and educationally dominant language (in the case of US society, Standard American English) is, for most people, essential for success. In the 1979 country song ‘Good Ole Boys Like Me’, Don Williams sang, “But I was smarter than most and I could choose … learned to talk like the man on the six o’clock news.” Whether fair, just or right, it is simply a fact that getting ahead in society almost always requires such linguistic competence.
Over the course of my career, I have engaged in research on most of the languages discussed in this book. My doctoral dissertation at the University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana, dealt with African American English. My interest in language issues in South Africa began when I was a post-doctoral fellow in the Program for the Study of Institutional Racism at the University of Illinois, which provided the foundation for more than twenty-five years of work and research in South Africa. My first academic position was at Gallaudet University, where I was immersed
in American Sign Language, which proved to be a life-altering experience. I was exposed to Spanglish during my years living in Hartford, Connecticut, while on the faculties of Central Connecticut State University and the University of Connecticut, when it quickly became obvious to me that the vernacular Spanish that I heard on a daily basis working in public schools in Hartford was radically different from the Spanish I had studied at university. Finally, my long personal friendship and professional relationship with Humphrey Tonkin, President Emeritus of the University of Hartford, led to my interest in Esperanto, a language (as well as a culture and movement) that I continue to find fascinating. Although I have written a great deal on many of the languages discussed in this book, my views and ideas have evolved and changed— sometimes in significant ways—over the years. As a consequence, almost all of Linguistic Legitimacy and Social Justice is new, and, I hope, improved.
Bangor, ME
Timothy Reagan
Acknowledgements
This book is the result of many years of work, experience, and reflection. Although I am solely responsible for any flaws that it may have, it could have nevertheless not been written without the help and support of many colleagues, students, and friends. In particular, I want to thank August Cluver (University of South Africa, Pretoria), Neil Collins (University College Cork and Nazarbayev University), Jane Edwards (Yale University), Ceil Lucas (Gallaudet University), Paul Chamniss Miller (Akita International University), Donald Moores (Gallaudet University), Rose Morris (Human Sciences Research Council, Pretoria), Daniel Mulcahy (Central Connecticut State University), Stephen Nover (Gallaudet University), Frank Nuessel (University of Louisville), Terry A. Osborn (University of South Florida Sarasota-Manatee), Claire Penn (University of the Witwatersrand), Sharon Rallis (University of Massachusetts, Amherst), Eliana Rojas (University of Connecticut), Sandra Schreffler (Roger Williams University), Jane Smith (University of Maine), Humphrey Tonkin (University of Hartford), François Touchon (University of Wisconsin-Madison), and Jan Vorster (Human Sciences Research Council, Cape Town). I am also deeply grateful to my colleagues in the College of Education and Human Development at the University of Maine.
1 Language and Other Myths: ‘Die Grenzen meiner Sprache bedeuten die Grenzen meiner Welt’ 1
2 Conceptualizing the Ideology of Linguistic Legitimacy: ‘Primitive people have primitive languages and other nonsense’ 29
3 African American English, Race and Language: ‘You don’t believe fat meat is greasy’ 77
4 Spanglish in the United States: ‘We speak Spanglish to the dogs, to the grandchildren, to the kids’ 111
5 Sign Language and the DEAF-WORLD: ‘Listening without hearing’ 135
6 Yiddish, the Mame-Loshn: ‘Mensch tracht, Gott lacht’ 175
7 Created and Constructed Languages: ‘I can speak Esperanto like a native’
8 Afrikaans, Language of Oppression to Language of Freedom: ‘Dit is ons erns’
9 Why Language Endangerment and Language Death Matter: ‘Took away our native tongue … And taught their English to our young’
10 Foreign Language Education in the US: ‘But French isn’t a real class!’
11 Linguistic Legitimacy, Language Rights and Social Justice: ‘No one is free when others are oppressed’
About the Author
Timothy Reagan, the Dean of the College of Education and Human Development at the University of Maine, has held senior faculty and administrative positions at a number of universities, including the University of Connecticut, the University of the Witwatersrand, Central Connecticut State University, Roger Williams University, Gallaudet University, and Nazarbayev University in Astana, Kazakhstan. His primary areas of research are applied and educational linguistics, education policy and comparative education. Prof. Reagan is the author of a dozen books, as well as the author of more than 150 journal articles and book chapters, and his work has appeared in such international journals as Arts and Humanities in Higher Education, Critical Inquiry in Language Studies, Educational Foundations, Educational Policy, Educational Theory, Foreign Language Annals, Harvard Educational Review, International Journal of Intercultural Relations, Language Policy, Language Problems and Language Planning, Multicultural Education, Sign Language Studies, and Semiotica.
Abbreviations
AAE African American English
ANC African National Congress
ASHA American Speech, Language and Hearing Association
ASL American Sign Language
BCE Before the Common Era (i.e., B.C.)
BICS Basic Interpersonal Communicative Skills
CAL Center for Applied Linguistics
CALP Cognitive Academic Language Proficiency
CASE Conceptually Accurate Signed English
CE Common Era (i.e., A.D.)
CLS Critical Language Scholarship Program
CODA Children of Deaf Adults
COSAS Congress of South African Students
CY Central Yiddish
DA Democratic Alliance
ESG East Sutherland Gaelic
ETS Educational Testing Service
EU European Union
EY Eastern Yiddish
FLEX Foreign Language Exploration/Experience
IPA International Phonetic Alphabet
LCTL Less Commonly Taught Language
LOVE Linguistics of Visual English
Abbreviations
LSA Linguistic Society of America
NAD National Association of the Deaf
NAEP National Assessment of Educational Progress
NGO Non-Governmental Organization
NSEP National Security Education Program
OSV Object-Subject-Verb
OVS Object-Verb-Subject
PanSALB Pan South African Language Board
RP Received Pronunciation
SAE Standard American English
SASL South African Sign Language
SEE-I Seeing Essential English
SEE-II Signing Exact English
SEY Southeastern Yiddish
SIL Summer Institute of Linguistics
SLP Sign Language People
SOV Subject-Object-Verb
STEM Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics
SVO Subject-Verb-Object
SY Southern Yiddish
TESOL Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages
UK United Kingdom
UNESCO United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation
US United States of America
VOC Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie, Dutch East India Company
VOS Verb-Object-Subject
VSO Verb-Subject-Object
WY Western Yiddish
YIVO Yidisher Visnshaftlekher Institut
Institute for Jewish Research
List of Figures
Fig. 5.1 ASL phoneme inventory
Fig. 5.2 The ASL timeline. Source: Baker-Shenk and Cokely (1980, p. 176). Reprinted with permission of Gallaudet University Press
154
156
Map 8.1 Provinces of the Republic of South Africa 248
List of Tables
Table 1.1 Contemporary translation of passage from Beowulf 9
Table 1.2 Translations of Matthew 9:1–2
Table 2.1 Speakers of selected varieties of Spanish in the United States (López Morales & Domínguez, 2009, p. 85) 43
Table 2.2 Spanish national language academies 44
Table 2.3 Comparative lexical size of selected world languages
Table 2.4 Loanwords in modern English
Table 2.5 English loanwords in contemporary Russian
Table 2.6 Lexical regional variation: American and British English
Table 2.7 Lexical regional variation: Metropolitan French and Québécois French
Table 2.8 Lexical regional variation: Spanish 55
Table 3.1 Lexical items in AAE 87
Table 3.2 SAE tense system 89
Table 3.3 AAE tense system (Based on Fickett, 1972, p. 19) 89
Table 3.4 Aspect in Russian verbs 91
Table 4.1 Speakers of varieties of Spanish in the US (Lipski, 2008, pp. 8–9) 114
Table 5.1 Sign language families (Based on Wittmann, 1991) 140
Table 5.2 Documented sign languages
Table 6.1 List of Jewish languages
Table 6.2 Yiddish lexical items in American English
Table 6.3 Comparison of selected language populations
Table 7.1 List of international auxiliary languages 209
Table 7.2 ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ in Volapük
Table 7.3 Esperanto affixes
Table 7.4 Pronominal-adjectival correlatives in Esperanto 226
Table 7.5 Adverbial correlatives in Esperanto 227
Table 8.1 African languages of South Africa 247
Table 8.2 Official languages of the Republic of South Africa (2011 census) 248
Table 9.1 The geography of language endangerment
290
Table 9.2 The demography of language endangerment: The world’s smallest languages 291
Table 10.1 Foreign language enrollments in the United States 323
Table 10.2 Critical languages supported by the NSEP 325
Table 10.3 Languages supported by the CLS program 325
Table 10.4 Interlingual distance to English of selected languages 328
Table 10.5 Expected levels of speaking proficiency in languages taught at the Foreign Service Institute 329
Table 10.6 Number of programs and student enrollments in Level 2 languages in the US 332
Table 10.7 Growth of foreign language immersion programs in the US, 1971–2011 339
Table 10.8 Languages of instruction in immersion foreign language programs 340
Language and Other Myths: ‘Die Grenzen meiner Sprache bedeuten die Grenzen meiner Welt’
More than fifty years ago, in an article published in the journal the Western Political Quarterly, the historian Carl Becker commented that, “Now, when I meet a word with which I am entirely unfamiliar, I find it a good plan to look it up in the dictionary and find out what someone thinks it means. But when I have frequently to use words with which everyone is perfectly familiar—words like ‘cause’ and ‘liberty’ and ‘progress’ and ‘government’—when I have to use words of this sort which everyone knows perfectly well, the wise thing to do is to take a week off and think about them” (1955, p. 328). I am extremely fond of this passage, because it makes abundantly clear the point that words, the meanings of words, and how we choose to use words, really do matter, and indeed, they often matter a great deal. As Robert Fitzgibbons has observed, “The varying degrees of precision in ordinary language cause remarkably few difficulties in conducting our everyday, nonprofessional affairs. In private matters, people tend to overlook imprecision, and adjust. Indeed,
‘The limits of my language mean the limits of my world’, from Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1922), §5.6.
T. Reagan, Linguistic Legitimacy and Social Justice, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-10967-7_1
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in many cases the lack of precision is beneficial. However, the opposite tends to be the case when it comes to public matters … the problems created by imprecision become especially acute in attempting to make … decisions rationally” (1981, p. 106). The word ‘language’ is an excellent example of such imprecision. ‘Language’ is a word we use frequently, and is one we certainly believe we understand and of which we know the meaning. And yet, the more we reflect on the concept of ‘language’, the fuzzier and more problematic it becomes. Given the importance of language, and indeed, of its centrality to being human, this lack of clarity is especially intriguing. Noam Chomsky, in Language and Mind, asserted that, “When we study human language, we are approaching what some might call the ‘human essence’, the distinctive qualities of mind that are, so far as we know, unique to man” (1972, quoted in Fromkin, Rodman, & Hyams, 2014, p. 1). In fact, some linguists have gone even further, arguing that not only is language unique to human beings, but that it is, to at least some extent, a necessary condition for ‘human being-ness’. As Neil Smith has written,
Language makes us human … Whatever we do, language is central to our lives, and the use of language underpins the study of every other discipline. Understanding language gives us insight into ourselves and a tool for the investigation of the rest of the universe. Proposing marriage, opposing globalization, composing a speech, all require the use of language; to buy a meal or sell a car involves communication, which is made possible by language; to be without language—as an infant, a foreigner or a stroke victim—is to be at a devastating disadvantage. Martians and dolphins, bonobos and bees, may be just as intelligent, cute, adept at social organization and morally worthwhile, but they don’t share our language, they don’t speak ‘human’. (2002, p. 3)
The uniqueness of human language is an idea dating back thousands of years, certainly to parts of the Book of Genesis composed somewhere between the tenth and fifth centuries BCE at the very latest. It is also an idea that has become, in many ways, an act of faith (or, perhaps more accurately, a collection of claims that together constitute a series of related acts of faith) in modern linguistics. Among contemporary linguists, there
are broadly speaking two different sets of views about the origins of human language: the majority advocate a continuity position, while a minority believe human language to be the result of an evolutionary discontinuity. Basically, the continuity position means that the emergence of language was the result of the evolution of pre- and proto-linguistic forms which over time became increasingly complex and that ultimately took the form of human language as it now exists. The alternative perspective, advocated by Chomsky and some others, is that language is so unique that it cannot really be explained by any kind of gradual evolution from earlier types of communicative behavior, and so must be the result of a fairly sudden—genetic and cognitive—change, which probably took place around 100,000 to 150,000 years ago. Regardless of how human language emerged, though, there is agreement about its general characteristics, and about what makes modern human language unique. There is an important distinction that needs to be made here: there is a key difference between ‘language’, referring to all human languages and their common, universal characteristics, and any specific language (e.g., English, French, Russian, Sesotho, Thai, Spanish, Zulu, etc.) and its own special and unique features. Thus, we can assert that “all languages have nouns and verbs” (Hudson, 2000, p. 74), which is a general claim about human language as a singular, unitary construct. On the other hand, we can make observations about the features and characteristics of particular languages, as in:
Among the formal characteristics of English nouns are that they typically: (a) may be made definite in meaning by use of preceding the (the definite article), as in the book, the guy, the answer; (b) may be made possessive by suffixing—’s, as in people’s. Jane’s, a politician’s; (c) may be made negative by prefixing—non, as in nonbeliever, nonsense, nonunion … (Hudson, 2000, pp. 74–75)
Both of these types of claims are perfectly reasonable, and both are useful in certain contexts, but the kinds of evidence required to support or reject them is different. Claims that purport to be universal are particularly difficult to defend, since to reject such a claim requires evidence from only a single language—that is, if the claim is true universally, then Language
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it must be true of each and every human language, without exception. The claim that “all languages have nouns and verbs,” for instance, might be true as far as we know at the present time, but there are quite literally thousands of human languages that have not been studied, any one of which could provide disconfirming evidence for the claim—and thus leading to its rejection as a universal characteristic of human language. It is entirely possible for there to be a language that somehow gets along without anything remotely noun-like or verb-like. Further, the ways in which nounlike and verb-like lexical elements exist and are used in languages varies considerably. For instance, in Nunavut Inuktitut there is the word ‘Tusaatsiarunnanngittualuujunga’, which is a single lexical item that would be expressed in English as, ‘I cannot hear very well’. In some languages and groups of languages, such as some Bantu languages in southern Africa, this becomes especially problematic:
There has been debate as to the proper arrangement of the Bantu lexicon, and the question is far from settled. The inflection of nominals and verbals by means of prefixes, and the complex and productive derivational system, both characteristic of Bantu languages, pose difficulties … If items are alphabetized by prefix … a verb will be listed far from its nominal derivations, however transparent these may be … A competing school arranges the lexicon by stem or root; this usefully groups related items, and saves on cross-referencing. Unfortunately, in such a system the user must be able to identify the stem, which given the sometimes complex morphophonemics of Bantu languages may not be easy. (Bennett, 1986, pp. 3–4)
In fact, the situation is even more complex that this might suggest, since we actually distinguish between two logically different kinds of linguistic universals. There are absolute universals, of the types we have been discussing thus far, which must be true for every single human language, but there are also statistical universals (or tendencies) which may not be true of all languages, but which are true of far too many languages to be simply the result of chance or random accident. Linguistic universals are also sometimes divided into implicational and non-implicational universals; implicational universals are characterized by claims that assert that if one feature is present, then a second feature will also be present. Thus, an
Language
example of a statistical, implicational universal would be that “languages with subject-object-verb … word order are most likely to be postpositional.” While there is clearly a relationship between language universals and features of specific languages, it is nevertheless essential as we proceed with this discussion that we keep the distinction between the two in mind.
A key conviction of many, probably most, linguists about human language, as articulated in one of the more widely used introductory college and university linguistics textbooks, that:
No language or variety of language … is superior or inferior to any other in a linguistic sense. Every [language] is equally complex, logical, and capable of producing an infinite set of sentences to express any thought. If something can be expressed in one language … it can be expressed in any other language … It might involve different means and different words, but it can be expressed … All human languages … are fully expressive, complete and logical … (Fromkin, Rodman, & Hyams, 2014, pp. 10–11)
The claims made in this passage are well-intentioned, and given the folk wisdom about and misunderstandings of language held by most students, there are compelling pedagogical arguments for making them. As Ronald Wardhaugh has observed,
Language plays an important role in the lives of all of us and is our most distinctive human possession. We might expect, therefore, to be wellinformed about it. The truth is we are not. Many statements we believe to be true about language are likely as not false. Many of the questions we concern ourselves with are either unanswerable and therefore not really worth asking or betray a serious misunderstanding of the nature of language. Most of us have learned many things about language from others, but generally the wrong things. (1999, p. viii)
Although claims about the fundamental equality of languages may be useful in introducing students to linguistics as an academic discipline, and while such claims may be valuable as a foundational working principle for linguists in a variety of ways, neither of these advantages makes
them necessarily true. Given our limited knowledge of many of the roughly 6000 to 7000 languages used by human beings around the world, such a claim must, for the time being, remain largely unproven—at best, it is really just a working hypothesis.
There is an underlying question in such discussions, and it is concerned with the fundamental nature of both language and specific languages: does language exist as a singular entity? In an abstract sense, when speaking of ‘human language’, it does make sense to conceptualize language as singular construct, characterized by specific norms. It is clear that in much of our discourse about language, we assume that it is an abstract entity, in a Chomskian sense,1 and that language does exist as a singular and knowable entity. However, as Neil Smith noted, “There is an intuitive appeal to the notion that there is an external language that different people speak. Indeed, it is so self-evidently true that it would be pointless to deny it. However, when taken to its logical conclusion, the idea turns out to be problematic, as the notion of ‘language’ involved is different from the notion that linguists theorize about” (2002, pp. 102–103). This is even more problematic when we assume that particular languages exist as knowable entities which can be described and analyzed, taught and learned, and so on. We say that a particular language is our mother tongue, students engage in the study of a particular language in the hope of being able to communicate with other speakers of that language, books are written in particular languages, and so on. Such claims and the assumptions which undergird them are embedded in our discourse about language, and in turn have important implications for education. What this entails, in short, is that we are engaging in the reification of the construct of ‘language’, which in turn can lead us to misunderstand the nature of language and to accept what are essentially technicist views about language, language teaching and learning, language rights, and language policy.
1 Actually, Chomsky himself would deny that language exists in this manner—as Smith notes, Chomsky has argued that “there is no external reality” (Chomsky, 1993, p. 43), that “the question, ‘to what does the word X refer?’, has no clear sense,” (Chomsky, 2000, p. 181) and finally, that relating linguistic mental representations to things in the world is not only not simple, but may be “perhaps even a misconceived project” (Chomsky, 1994, p. 159). See Smith (2002, pp. 100–104) for a detailed discussion of this point and of its implications.
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In its most commonplace and everyday uses, the term ‘language’ is in fact both ahistorical and atheoretical. It is ahistorical in that it presupposes that a language is in some sense fixed and static. As David Pharies has commented,
Human culture is constantly changing in every way: in the way people dress or wear their hair; in the technologies they use; in their political, religious, and educational institutions; in the way they treat children and animals; in what and how much they eat; in the way the sexes relate to each other … Language can be characterized as the ultimate manifestation of human culture. It represents the foundation, in practical terms, of all other cultural elements, since it is the instrument through which is conveyed the entire body of knowledge that constitutes our customs, laws, and concept of human life. Perhaps because language is so omnipresent in our lives, the subtle yet infinite series of changes that it undergoes are sometimes difficult to perceive. (2007, pp. 1–2)
The changes that are continuously taking place in our language may be difficult to perceive, as Pharies suggests, but they are nonetheless very real. Consider the case of English. The English speech community has evolved over the past thousand years in a variety of ways (see Galloway & Rose, 2015; Graddol, 1997, 2006). From a relatively small and insignificant speech community at the fringe of Europe, speakers of English have become the most powerful linguistic community in the modern world. The domination and near-hegemony of English in international communication is unmatched in the history of our species. One of the interesting aspects of the growth of English as a global language is that we are now at a point in time when the majority of speakers of English are no longer native speakers of the language—in fact, native speakers of English are outnumbered by non-native speakers approximately three to one (the number of native speakers of English is estimated to be approximately 330 million, of a total of more than 1 billion total speakers). As David Crystal (2003) and others have suggested, the bifurcation of speakers of English into native and non-native is simply no longer as useful as it once was. Rather, as Braj Kachru (1982, 1985, 1990, 1992, 1996, 2003, 2006) has suggested, we need to conceptualize the English-speaking world as
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consisting of three ‘circles’: the inner circle, the outer circle, and the expanding circle (see also Melchers & Shaw, 2013; Schmitz, 2014). The inner circle consists of those countries in which English is the first, and dominant, language of the population: included in the inner circle are the UK, the US, Canada (excluding Québec), Australia, Ireland, and New Zealand. The outer circle consists of those post-colonial countries in which English plays a significant role in most formal domains: India, Nigeria, Pakistan, Singapore, and South Africa (except for the relatively small—though important—community of native speakers). Finally, the expanding circle consists of those countries that have no colonial or particular historical link to the inner circle, and in which English generally has no special legal or constitutional status, but where it is nevertheless widely used and studied as a second or additional language, and in which it may be used as a lingua franca, especially in contacts with external individuals and organizations. Examples of countries in this expanding circle include China, Denmark, Iran, Japan, Sweden, and so on.
The phenomenon of contemporary English raises a number of very important questions, including those of the threat of English linguistic imperialism (see Canagarajah, 1999a, 1999b; González Fernández, 2005; Phillipson, 1992, 1997, 2007, 2008, 2009), the role of English in the promotion and maintenance of structural inequality around the world, and questions about language ownership. Especially interesting is that the relative power of native speakers of English remains incredibly strong even as the percentage of native speakers among all speakers of the language continues to decline—a strength and status that is clearly seen in the case of TESOL, in which native English speakers are often not only preferred as instructors but are also frequently renumerated at rates higher than those of non-native speakers (see Braine, 1999; Llurda, 2001, 2006; Mahboob, 2010; Norton & Tang, 1997).
Not only has English spread both as a native and as an additional language, it has also evolved and changed in dramatic ways over the course of its history. We normally distinguish among Old English (or AngloSaxon), Middle English and Modern English, and consider each of these a distinct language (or, more accurately, a set of language varieties) in its own right (see Baugh & Cable, 2002; Freeborn, 1998). There were, for instance, several varieties of Old English—the major variations being
Language and Other Myths: ‘Die Grenzen meiner Sprache…
Table 1.1 Contemporary translation of passage from Beowulf
Passage from Beowulf
Old English Gewat ða neosian, syþðan niht becom, hean huses, hu hit Hring-Dene æfter beorþege gebun hæfdon. Fand þa ðær inne æþelinga gedrihtswefan æfter symble; sorge ne cuðon, wonsceaft wera. Wiht unhælo, grim ond grædig, gearo sona wæs, reoc ond reþe, ond on ræste genam þritig þegna; þanon eft gewat huðe hremig to ham faran, mid þære wælfylle wica neosan.
Heaney
Translation (Heaney, 2000, pp. 9–11) So, after nightfall, Grendel set out for the lofty house, to see how the Ring-Danes were settling into it after their drink, and there he came upon them, a company of the best asleep from their feasting, insensible to pain and human sorrow. Suddenly then the God-cursed brute was creating havoc: greedy and grim, he grabbed thirty men from their resting places and rushed to his lair, flushed up and inflamed from the raid, blundering back with the butchered corpses.
Kentish, Mercian, Northumbian, and West Saxon.2 A speaker of Modern English certainly finds Old English unintelligible, regardless of the historical connections between the two.3 Table 1.1 provides a short passage from the Old English classic Beowulf, offering both the original text and a modern translation. Although scholars disagree about when Beowulf was first composed, estimates range from the eighth to the early eleventh centuries CE. Regardless of when it was created, though, what is fairly clear is that speakers of modern English—even well-educated speakers— typically find the original text of Beowulf incomprehensible without some amount of formal study of Old English. The same phenomenon can be seen in Table 1.2, in which a short Biblical passage (Matthew 9: 1–2) is given in the original Greek and then in different translations into English ranging from a tenth century Old English version through a translation completed in the second half of the twentieth century. The differences are
2 This is an important historical and linguistic point, because most of the Old English texts that have been preserved are written in Late West Saxon, but the standard varieties of both Middle English and Modern English are largely descended from Mercian.
3 The differences between Old English and Modern English are dramatic. For examples, see Diamond (1970), Hogg (2012), Lass (1994), Mitchell (1985, 1995), Mitchell and Robinson (1992), and Smith (1999).
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Table 1.2 Translations of Matthew 9:1–2
Comparative Biblical passage (Matthew 9: 1–2)
Version Period of time Text
Original Greek Second century CE
Vulgate Latin Translation (Original translation by St. Jerome)
405 CE et ascendens in naviculam transfretavit et venit in civitatem suam et ecce offerebant ei paralyticum iacentem in lecto et videns Iesus fidem illorum dixit paralytico confide fili remittuntur tibi peccata tua
Old English Tenth century CE Ða astah hē on scyp, and oferseglode, and cōm on his ceastre. Ða brohton hig hym ǣnne laman, on bedde licgende.
Tydale Translation 1526 CE
King James Version 1611 CE
New English Bible 1970 CE
And he entred into the shippe: and passed over and cam into his owne cite. And lo they brought unto him a man sicke off the palsey lyinge in his bed.
And he entered into a ship, and passed over, and came into his own city. And, behold, they brought to him a man sick of the palsy, lying on a bed.
So he got into the boat and crossed over, and came to his own town. And now some men brought a paralyzed man lying on a bed.
apparent, as is the fact that each passage becomes progressively easier for the speaker of modern English to understand.
And yet, in spite of the obvious differences among these texts, and the distinctive stages of English that they represent, the actual demarcation of Old English, Middle English, and Modern English is largely arbitrary, just as the boundaries between different varieties of each language at any particular point in time are somewhat arbitrary. There was no point in time at which speakers of Old English suddenly began speaking Middle English, nor any specific date when speakers of Middle English began speaking Modern English. There has been continuity in the Englishspeaking linguistic community throughout the past thousand years, and
Language and Other Myths: ‘Die Grenzen meiner Sprache…
at no point were speakers of one generation unable to understand speakers of the next generation. The same, of course, is true of the evolution of the Romance languages from Vulgar Latin4 into modern Catalan, French, Italian, Occitan, Portuguese, Provençal, Romanian, Spanish, and so on (Harris & Vincent, 1988; Posner, 1996), or the evolution of the Slavic languages from Proto-Slavic into modern Belarusian, Bosnian, Bulgarian, Croatian, Czech, Macedonian, Russian, Serbian, Slovak, Slovenian, Sorbian, Ukrainian, and so on (Comrie & Corbett, 2001). Indeed, such continuity would be characteristic of any case of linguistic evolution (see Bynon, 1977; Clackson, 2007). From a strictly historical perspective, any language is thus something of a moving target. Codification can slow this process down, but it does not prevent it altogether, as is made clear in cases where a codified language has over an extended period morphed into a different language or languages (as in the cases of Classical Greek or Latin). Indeed, the spelling of Modern English provides a good example of this phenomenon. Many of the accepted spelling conventions in Modern English are based on the pronunciation of one variety of Middle English, and thus do not reflect changes that have taken place since the fifteenth century CE (including, most importantly, the Great Vowel Shift).5 As Fromkin, Rodman and Hyams have noted, “The Great Vowel Shift is a primary source of many spelling inconsistencies of English because our spelling system still reflects the way words were pronounced before it occurred. In general, the written language is more conservative, that is, slower to change, than the spoken language” (2014, p. 343). Language—any language—is constantly changing and in flux (see McWhorter, 2016), and any effort to demarcate its boundaries can provide at most a kind of snapshot of the language at a particular time and place. A fairly good analogy of this problem is provided by the coastline
4 The modern Romance languages are not derived from the Classical Latin taught in schools today and associated with the literature of the Golden and Silver Ages of Latin literature. Rather, they are derived from a wide variety of vernacular dialects of Latin (called Vulgar Latin, or sermo vulgaris) (see Adams, 2013, pp. 3–27; Clackson & Horrocks, 2011, pp. 229–264; Herman, 1967; Janson, 2004, pp. 78–79; Ostler, 2007, pp. 119–120).
5 The Great Vowel Shift took place roughly between 1350 and the 1700s CE, and resulted in a major shift in which a systematic phonetic change occurred as Middle English developed into Early Modern English (see Barber, 1993, pp. 191–197; Fromkin, Rodman, & Hyams, 2014, pp. 342–343; Hudson, 2000, pp. 396–398; Shukla & Connor-Linton, 2014, pp. 298–299).
T. Reagan
of Maine; we all know that there is such a thing, and we can talk about it, visit or drive along it, and even show pictures of it, and yet, it really does not exist except as an abstraction. The waves at the edge of the coast, and the coastline itself, are constantly changing and in an on-going state of flux. In a sense, it is simply not possible to measure the coastline since it is changing from one moment to the next. To be sure, we can roughly estimate the length of the coastline, just as we can broadly discuss the characteristics of a language, but in so doing we are inevitably establishing temporary and arbitrary parameters. The characteristics, features and norms of a language is, in short, is something of a fiction, just as a coastline is something of a fiction—albeit a very useful and functional fiction.
Conceptions of language are not only ahistorical, but they are also atheoretical in nature. Language varies not only over time, but also from place to place, from social class to social class, from individual to individual, and indeed, even in the usage of a single speaker from one context to another. Ekkehard Wolff, in a discussion of the relationship of language and society in the Africa, observed that “no two speakers of the same language speak alike, nor does the same speaker use his/her language the same way all the time: variation is part of language and language behaviour” (2000, p. 299). This variation means that language boundaries are themselves to some degree outside of or unrelated to the inherent qualities of a language—they are primarily sociological rather than linguistic in nature. Although we routinely distinguish between and among different languages, our decisions when we do so are not as clear as they might appear. With respect to languages that are historically related (such as French and Spanish, English and German, Russian and Polish, and so on), what we actually find is that there are language continua that demarcate gradual changes in language and language usage across geographic distances: French and Italian, as they are actually spoken ‘on the ground’, are not really so much two completely separate languages as they are a continuum in which French very gradually changes, village by village, into Italian. The standardization of the two languages may hide this fact, but if one listens to speakers of the respective languages the presence of this gradual differentiation becomes clear.
Language and Other Myths: ‘Die Grenzen meiner Sprache…
As Rebecca Posner noted in her response to the question, ‘How many Romance languages are there?’:
An answer to this question that has been slightingly labeled santa simplicitas is that there is only one: the languages are all alike enough to be deemed dialects of the same language. Another equally disingenuous answer might be ‘thousands’—of distinctive varieties—or ‘millions’—of individual idiolects. The usual textbook answer is ‘ten, or possibly eleven’, according priority to putative chronologically early differentiation from the common stock, allegedly linked to ethnic differences among the speakers. (1996, p. 189)
Even in a case as well-documented as that of the Romance languages, then, the specific demarcation of distinct languages is fundamentally an arbitrary one. We see this same problem in delimiting language boundaries in settings around the world—and furthermore, in the cases of smaller and generally less studied languages, such demarcation is often extremely difficult.
This brings us to the difference between a language and a dialect, a topic that is of considerable concern to laypeople but that is something of a vexation to professional linguists. The basic problem is that the difference between the two is not just a complex one, but that even discussing it leads to misunderstandings about the nature of language.6 In everyday language use, as Walt Wolfram and Natalie Schilling have noted,
just about everyone has some understanding of the term dialect … However, the technical use of the term in linguistics is different from its popular definition in some important but subtle ways. Professional students of language typically use the term ‘dialect’ as a neutral label to refer to any variety of a language that is shared by a group of speakers. Languages are invariably manifested through their dialects, and to speak a language is to speak some dialect of that language. In this technical usage, there are no particular social or evaluative connotations to the term—that is, there are no inherently ‘good’ or ‘bad’ dialects … (2016, p. 1)
6 The potential for confusion here is that the term ‘dialect’ is itself ambiguous, potentially referring to two quite different concepts. This ambiguity in fact originates in the meaning of the Greek term δῐᾰ́λεκτος, from which the English word ‘dialect’ is derived (see Haugen, 1966).
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Loinen
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Title: Loinen Kertomus
Author: K. A. Järvi
Release date: January 16, 2024 [eBook #72734]
Language: Finnish
Original publication: Helsinki: Otava, 1910
Credits: Juhani Kärkkäinen and Tapio Riikonen *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOINEN ***
LOINEN
Kirj.
K. A. Järvi
Helsingissä, Kustannusosakeyhtiö Otava, 1908.
I LUKU.
Lämpömittarin elohopea on painunut yhä alemmaksi. Nyt varhaisena aamupäivänä näyttää se yli kolmenkymmenen asteen kylmää. On hirvittävä pakkanen, jossa huoneiden nurkat paukahtelevat, jäät parkuvat, ihmiset huoneihinsa kohmettuvat. Lehmät ynisevät viluissaan läävissään, joissa kanat jo vuorokauden toista ovat orsillaan liikkumatta siipiensä sisässä kyyköttäneet eikä kukko ole kehdannut askelta ottaa.
Ja kuitenkin nyt on paraallaan joulu, tämä sielujen lämpöinen juhla. Sen joulun lämmön voi nähdä ihmisten kirkkaista silmistä, mitkä turkkien sisästä kiiluvat, kun kirkkoon komeasti aisakellojen helistessä ajetaan täyden kuun paistaessa korkealla taivaalla. Hevoset ovat kuin jauhoissa uineet, ajajat pakkasen pukemat ja metsäinen tie yltä päätä talvisessa loistossa.
On sentään juhlallisen komea joulu.
Mieli kohoaa. Veret turkkien sisässä läikähtävät. Hevosia hoputetaan.
Niin tullaan perille. Kirkkomäen alla hevoset sidotaan, heitetään nahkaista niiden selkään ja lähdetään kirkkoon koirain jäädessä
vartioimaan rekiä, joidenka vaatteihin ne makaamaan hyppäävät.
Mutta kun päästään sisälle Herran huoneeseen, pysähdytään ovelle melkein säikähtäen silmiin syöksyvää valoa. Sillä siellä alttarin edessä on suuren suuri uusi valolaitelma, jossa palaa ainakin pari sataa kynttilää. Näissä parissa kolmessa vanhassa kruunussa on korkeintaan kahdeksan itsekussakin.
Tämä on Juhmakan hovilaisen uusi lahjakruunu syntymäpitäjänsä kirkolle. Hän on sen itse kuljettanut Pietarista sieltä voin myönnistä palatessaan.
Vanha harmaaparta paljaspää suntio seisoo sen alla kädet ristissä silmät ylös luotuina lauenneena siihen syvään ihmettelyyn, että hän on tämän valomeren sytyttänyt.
Nyt astuu Juhmakan hovin isäntä itse kirkkoon. Hänen korkea otsansa on uljas ja kalju päälaki herramainen. Suuri konkkanenä kyllä tohisee ja todistaa talonpoikaa. Mutta viekas suunseutu ja aina nauravat silmät tietävät liikemiestä. Kallis pietarilainen hienokarva turkki esittää hänet rikkaana miehenä ja nahkaiset shagilla reunustetut päällyssaappaat remmeineen ovat ylpeyden huippu.
Mutta siltikin hän on talonpoika. Vaikka kyllä tätä Ylä-Karjalan mainetta saavuttanutta talonpoika-aatelia. Suuri konkkanenä, joka tohisee, on tämän aateliston vaakuna ja tunnusmerkki.
Juhmakka silmää kruunuunsa, silmää kirkkokansaan ja näkee olevansa kaikkien huomion aihe. Hänestä tuntuu tässä kirkkokäytävällä kulkiessaan kuin kulkisi hän noiden toisten hartioilla ja itse Jumala paraallaan ojentaisi hänelle kätensä nostaakseen
hänet siinä samassa ylös taivaan valoasuntoihin. Sillä niin ylentävän vaikutuksen kruunu häneen itseensä tekee.
Nyt äkkää hänet suntio ja tekee hänelle kolme syvää kumarrusta.
— Pyh!
Juhmakka kääntää päänsä toisaalle tuosta "resusta".
— Kuka saarnaa tänään? kysyy Juhmakka rilliniekka lukkarilta, jonka hän huomaa sivullaan kumartelevan.
— Pastori.
— Sekö? Miksikä ei rovasti?
— On pastorin vuoro.
Lukkari laittaa rilliensä nauhaa, katsoo tutkivasti naisten puolelle ja hännystelee Juhmakkaa.
Hän on käynyt Helsingin urkurikoulun ja ymmärtää liian paljon näin syrjäisen seurakunnan lukkariksi.
— Pitäisi saada sopiva paikka. Nuori herra sen tiennee, puhuu Juhmakka harmistuneena, että se on pastori, joka nyt saarnaa.
— Onhan täällä toki rovastikin mukana, lisää hän vielä kuin lohdutukseksi itselleen.
Lukkari hymyili ymmärtävästi, laittoi rilliensä nauhaa, tirkisti naisten puolelle ja lähti etsimään paikkaa hovilaiselle.
Kirkko olikin jo tungokseen asti väkeä täynnä.
Tässä käytävän edessä ensi penkissä ei aivan etäällä alttarista istui joku aivan yksinään.
Ja suureksi kummakseen äkkää lukkari hänet yli koko pitäjän tunnetuksi Lois-Pietuksi, joka on luonut ympärilleen kammon lähimäisissään sekä sen tähden että hän on yltä päätä syöpäläisissä että siksikin, kun on kovin suulas ja terävä kielestään. Hänellä on liikanimikin, jonka jokainen tuntee.
Siinä hän puolittain makaa penkkiä vasten ja tuijottaa suu auki Juhmakan lahjakruunuun.
Lukkari kutsuu hänet pois penkistä. Mutta Pietu nauraa vain vastaan.
Mutta kun Pietu sitten huomaa Juhmakan hovin isännän lukkarin takana, niin kohta hän kiiruusti työntyy pois penkistä ja asettuu nöyrästi käytävälle.
— Isäntä on hyvä.
Lukkari kumartaa Juhmakalle, joka nyt yksinään nousee penkkiin. Ja yksin siihen jääkin. Sillä tämä penkki on vain säätyläisiä ja pappilan herrasväkeä varten, vaikka Pietu tavattomassa julkeudessaan oli rohjennut sinne kiivetä.
Pietu käytävältä katsoo uteliaana, miten hovilainen avaa nenäliinastaan suuren virsikirjan, aivastaa, päristelee, leventelee, panee kalotin kaljulle päälaelleen, niistää nenänsä, hellittää hiukan kallista pietarilaista turkkiaan ja lopuksi ottaa kotelosta silmälasit, mitkä sovittelee nenälleen.
Pietu on puettu vanhaan tuiki kuluneeseen hännystakkiin ja paikkaisiin housuihin, joiden lahkeet ovat pistetyt rähjäisten anturasaappaiden varsiin.
Eikä jouluksikaan ole Pietu jaksanut pestä silmiään.
Suntio alkaa asettaa numeroita, suuria kankeita läkkipellistä leikatuita, virsitauluihin, ja askartaa hartaana niiden kanssa kuin hyvin pyhässä toimituksessa. Puhdas paidankaulus leveänä, valkoisena on taitettu alas ja lisää miehen kirkollista väriä. Sitten hän asettuu virsitaulun viereen kädet hurskaasti ristissä lehterille lukkaria katsellen.
Juhmakkakin silmää taakseen ylös lehterille, että milloin se siellä alkaa. Mutta samalla hänen käy sääliksi näin pakkasella lukkarin hienoja sormia.
Siellä se mies juuri voitelee näppiään jollain pääkaupunkilaisella palsamilla pakkasta vastaan.
Se harmittaa Juhmakkaa, että juuri nyt on pastorin saarnavuoro… juuri nyt, kun hänen kruununsa ensi kerran tähän pieneen puukirkkoon häikäisevän valonsa jakaa.
Sillä tuskin Juhmakka oli kirkkomäelle päässyt, kun hänen korvaansa kuiskattiin pahaa taas pastorista. Se uutinen hiljalleen kulki siellä miehestä mieheen, sitä höystettiin kokkapuheilla, perin raaoillakin, ja naurettiin. Se tieto huhusi pastorin tilanneen kaupungista väkijuomia jouluksi ja eilen illalla olleen aivan humalassa. Kun suntio oli illalla käynyt pastorin kotona, oli tämä laulellut rekilaulua ja pyrkinyt voittosille vanhuksen kanssa.
Niin se juttu tiesi. Ja se nielaistiin hauskana uutisena.
Jykevä jouluvirsi vierii ja kierii kirkossa seinästä seinään ikäänkuin etsien Häntä, jonka edessä taivaat ja maat vapisevat.
Kun virsi on laulettu, vaivutaan syvään hiljaisuuteen. Sillä nyt on rukouksen hetki tullut. Sen aikana on rovasti ilmestynyt saarnatuoliin pitämään lyhyttä aamusaarnaa.
Sillä miehellä on ryhtiä. Ja ääntä! Oo — hän on kerrankin pappi.
Kummissaan katsoo Lois-Pietukin, miten rovastin turkin alla elää ja kuohuu, kun hän alkaa puhua. Ihmeissään kuuntelee hänkin — kai viheliäisin näiden sanankuulijain seassa — miten rovastin ääni värähtelee, sointuu, taipuu pehmoiseksi, mutta äkkiä jylinäksi kasvaa, syntisiä rusikoi, lyö kuin satapäisellä ruoskalla perkeleitä ja pahoja henkiä.
Pietu kuuntelee hyvä tuuli suupielessään ja hänen silmänsä ovat naulattuina rovastin suureen avonaiseen suuhun, missä punainen kieli liikkuu ja liikkuu. Se rovastin avonainen suu on hänestä kuin sepän punainen ahjo, mistä kipunat joka suunnalle tuiskuvat.
Ja kuitenkaan eivät nämä kipunat häntäkään vaivaista syntistä polta. Eivät iske karvastelevaa omantunnon haavaa… eivät ensinkään. Vaikkapa sinkoilevatkin päin silmiä miehestä mieheen, naisesta naiseen.
Sillä sehän kuuluu asian luontoon, että rovasti näin saarnaa. Muutenhan ei kantaisi laajaa mainetta, että on hyvä saarnamies.
Rovastin saarna on loppunut ja virsi taas aletaan. Suntio laulaa kuin ylimäinen seraafi korkeasti ja kauniisti numerotaulun kupeella.
Hän panee liritystä ja panee paksumpaa juoksutusta, panee… panee suun täydeltä. Sillä hän ymmärtää laulutaidetta.
Kirkko jylisee äänen voimasta. Kotitekoinen kirkkolaulu tuo täällä kuultaviin kalliimmat aarteensa luonnon alkuperäisellä voimalla.
Maailma kirjoitti pastorin selkään nuo katkerat sanat: juoppo pappi. Ne sanat selässään hän nyt taas nousee saarnatuoliin pitämään päiväsaarnaa.
Ja se on sellainen kuorma, jonka alla hän vapisee ja värisee. Hän on näöltään kuin makeimmasta unesta säikähtyneenä ylös ajettu.
Päätäkin vielä pakottaa ja silmiä huimaa ja on sitten niin jumalattoman kylmä vanhassa lammasnahkaturkissa, jonka taskunpielukset vanhuuttaan kiiltelevät. Pöhöttynyt naama lyhyen, mutta paksun vartalon nenässä kertoo yhtä ja toista tämän maailman karvaasta makeudesta.
Hänkin lihanpalvelija tahtoisi olla hyvä ja kaunis ja lahjakas ja pidetty, mutta… oi sentään!
Sillä toisinaan voimat pettävät ja hän silloin laulaa rekilaulun viinatuopin ääressä.
Niin kävi taas eilenillalla. Ja nyt se hävettää läpi luiden ja ytimien.
Juhmakka säälien kääntää päänsä pois pastorista.
Sillä onhan hän sentään virkamies.
Kyyneleet nousevat pastorin verestäviin silmiin, joita peittävät siniset silmälasit, ja ääni värähtää niin ontosti. Häntä ahdistaa kuin pistettäisiin hirttonuoraa hänen kaulaansa.
Tällä samalla saarnatuolilla rovastin ryhdikkään ja kauniin esiintymisen jälkeen on hän todella hullunkurinen ilmestys.
Sen rahvaankin silmät keksivät. Seurakunta katselee häntä uteliaana pilkallisin silmin. Näin se tuomitsee synnin.
Tällöin tuntuu pastorista kuin tämä saarnatuoli olisi hajoava laivahylky, jollahan purjehtii ja jota myrsky viskelee. Ne laineet ne loiskivat, ne nuolevat hänen jalkojaan, ne rynnistävät ylemmäksi ja ylemmäksi, suolainen pärske kohoaa ja saavuttaa hänen suunsa, mielii hänet tukahduttaa ja viskata hänet nurin niskoin meuruilevaan syvyyteen. Sillä hän on noiden satojen ihmispäiden tuolla alhaalla penkeissä ja käytävillä vihattuna maalitauluna.
Sentähden hänen saarnansa on kuin itkunsekaista vikinää. Ja on ollut jo vuosia. Aina kun hän nousee saarnatuoliin, tuntuu hänestä kuin nuo tylyt katseet tahtoisivat repiä hänen päältään tämän papinnutun, joka heidän silmissään on taivaasta kotoisin.
Mutta erehdyksestä joutui hänen selkäänsä.
Oi sentään, miten ne irvistelevät nytkin nämä rakkaat sanankuulijat!
Jospa hän saisi mennä pois omaan sänkyynsä maata! Ja saisi sanoa noille pilkkaajille hyvästiksi: menkää tekin kotiinne oman helmasyntinne ääreen, sillä ette ole mahdolliset Herran pöydälle.
Se olisi henkinen sankarityö. Ehkä kelpaisi se paremmin taivaalliselle Isälle kuin tämä virallinen komento, joka määrää, että hänen päiväsaarnansa pitää kestää ainakin kaksikymmentä minuuttia.
Pastori keksii joukosta Lois-Pietun, joka on kävellyt aivan saarnatuolin eteen ja iskee silmää hänelle.
Hävytön!
Se silmänisku pelasti tällä kertaa pastorin. Sillä se oli jo liikaa.
Pastori saa rohkeutta. Hän saarnaa nyt lujemmin kuin monasti ennen.
Seurakunta aikansa silmillään pastoria mittailtuaan vajoaa välinpitämättömyyteen.
Lois-Pietu työntyy muutamaan penkkiin puoliväkisin. Ellei oltaisi kirkossa, niin epäilemättä siinä jo ennestään olijat hänet pois viskaisivat. Mutta Pietun vanha maine hankkii sijaa hänelle. Sillä ihmiset näyttävät kaikin mokomin pyrkivän ulohtaalle hänestä.
Väljälle paikalle Pietu istahtaa ja panee ryntäilleen penkkiä vasten. Siitä hän vasta oikein näkee Juhmakan lahjakruunun, jota hän juuri oli lähtenyt kirkkoon katsomaankin.
Eilenillalla kun Juhmakan hovin renki toi hoitolaan eli kunnan vaivaistaloon, jonka asukkaita Lois-Pietukin on, kahvia ja vehnäisiä jouluna hoidokkaille jaettavaksi hovin isännän lahjana, oli Pietu sattunut siihen samaan. Silloin renki hoitolanjohtajalle kruunusta haasteli, miten se on maksanut Pietarissa kaksisataa ruplaa ja miten se huomenna jouluna ensi kerran sytytetään, miten semmoista kruunua ei ole yhdessäkään maalaiskirkossa koko Ylä-Karjalassa ja miten nyt huomenna pitäisi mennä sitä kirkkoon katsomaan.
Halkovajassa puolipimennossa sattui Pietu olemaan ja sekä kuuli rengin puheet että näki Juhmakkalaisen lahjat hoidokkaille.
Mutta toistaiseksi piti hän kaikki omana tietonaan ja aamulla tulipalopakkasessa ohkaisissa ketineissään mennä viiletti kirkkoon katsomaan tätä mainehikasta kruunua.
Tuon kirkkomatkan päälle se sitten kahvi ja vehnäinenkin hyvin maistaisi… se hovilaisen pullakahvi, oli Pietu jo aamuyön miettinyt.
Tässä kruunussa ovat kynttilät viidessä kerroksessa. Pietu laskee, että alimmassa kerroksessa on kuusikymmentä kynttilää, sitä ylemmässä neljäkymmentä, sitä ylemmässä kolmekymmentä, sitä ylemmässä kaksikymmentä ja sitä ylemmässä kymmenen. Ylöskäsin kynttiläkerrokset kapenevat ja ahtaammaksi kehäksi pyöristyvät. Kristallit ovat alempana suuremmat, sitten pienenevät, pienenevät aina ylöskäsin… ovat huikaisevan hienoiksi hiotut… valo niissä taittuu… sädehtii…
Pietun silmiä tuo valtava loisto huikaisee ja hänen täytyy jo lepuuttaakin niitä välillä pastorin pöhökasvoissa. Sitten tarkastaa hän kruunun messingit ja kierretyt koristeet.
Kirkko on kovasti lämmennyt tungokseen asti ahdetusta ihmispaljoudesta. Sen ilmassa on kuin hienoa sumua, mikä yhtenään käy paksummaksi ja minkä läpi kynttilät yhä vaikeammin näkyvät. Kruunun ympärillä on jo kokonainen kehä tomusta, hiestä ja pilauneesta ilmasta.
Pastorin ääni kuuluu onttona kaikuna Pietun korviin, joka yhä tirkistää kruunuun ja haaveksii kohta saatavasta vehnäiskahvista.
Tämän kruunun kunniaksi kai se on Juhmakkalainen ne vehnäiskahvitkin hoitolaan hommannut, miettii Pietu.
Pietun silmäluomet käyvät yhä raskaammiksi. Ne ovat luukut, jotka omasta painostaan alas laskeuvat. Sillä hän on ollut yläällä aamuneljästä, kun kruunun näkeminen aivoissa pyöri ja valveutti.
Mutta sentään Pietun ajatusjuoksu vielä valvoo ja vyöryttää esille maukkaita kuvitelmia vehnäiskahvista, jota hän ei muista juoneensa moniin aikoihin.
Pietu kerrankin tuntee syvää tyytyväisyyttä ja nukahtaa keskellä vehnäiskahvin esimakuja.
Kauan viipyy vielä ennenkuin pastori jysäyttää aamenen. Sitä ennen on Pietu ehtinyt saada itselleen monta kumppania siihen virkistävään nautintoon, jonka hän alotti. Kirkossa on jo ääneen kuorsattu, kun pastori vasta saarnansa puolivälissä ravasi.
Pietun korvaan tunkeupi sävelaaltoja. Mutta se ääni pistää yhtäkkiä niin särkevästi aivan hänen takanaan. Hän täydelleen herää. Katsoo ihmeissään ympärilleen, tuntee turkit ja karvalakit, paksut villahuivit ja verkanutut. Pettymyksen pahatuuli nousee hänen kasvoilleen. Eihän hän vain ole myöhästynyt jo vehnäiskahvilta?
Siunaus, miten nukutti!
Pietu kokoaa itsensä ja lähtee kiiruusti kynttyyttämään pois kirkosta.
Rovasti ilmestyy alttarille. Hän on hyvin juhlallinen ja nostaa silmänsä määrätysti Juhmakan kruunuun. Sitä hän katsoo kauan… kauan. Ja saa siten koko seurakunnan silmät siihen samaan kiinnitetyiksi.
Tässä hirsikirkossa, vanhassa ja ränstyneessä, jonka seinät ovat vesimaalilla sivellyt, jonka pylväiden päissä on vain vaatimaton doorilainen puuympyrä ja jonka alttaritaulu on kuljeksivan maalarin sommittelema ryhmä paljaspäisiä kauhtanaukkoja, joiden yhden pään ympärille hän lahjoitti keltaisen kehän, on tämä kruunu rovastin silmissä ylellisyysesine ja korukapine. Mutta juuri sellaisena sitä rakkaampi.
Ja nyt pitäisi hänen siitä kiittää koko seurakunnan puolesta, nyt lausua valitut sanat eräälle seurakunnan arvossapidetyimmälle isännälle.
Rovasti alottaa kaunopuheisesti, sitten ojentaa oikean kätensä kohti kruunua, ylemmäksi kohti taivasta verratessaan kruunua taivaan kirkkauteen, joka paimenille ensi jouluyönä ilmestyi, ja puhuu… puhuu koreita sanoja Juhmakalle, joka niitä ei ymmärrä, mutta kyyneleet silmissä, syvät liikutuksen kyyneleet silmissä niitä kuuntelee. Nenäkin tohisee ja hengitys käy kovin äänekkäästi kuin palkeilla. Pelkästä ujoudesta hän punastuu ja kuumenee. Sillä kaikki, jotka suinkin näkevät, katsovat häneen.
Rovasti lupaa hovilaiselle niin paljon kaunista, että hän yhä heltyy, melkein sielulliseen hekumaan hukkuu.
Nyt lopuksi rovasti kumartaa syvään Juhmakalle kiitokseksi seurakunnan puolesta.
Juhmakka ponnistaa voimansa, nousten ylös kumartaa kolmasti vastaan ja putoaa takaisin penkkiinsä.
— Jos on lahja kaunis, niin kyllä olivat kauniit kiitoksetkin, supistaan seurakuntalaisten kesken.
Mutta Juhmakka tahtoo ne kiitokset rahalla maksaa. Tuossa samassa hän päättää antaa seurakunnan diakonissakassaan 500 markkaa. — Äh… tsih!
Syvä aivastus ja se on päätetty.
Juhmakan nenä tohisee vimmatusti kuten aina mielenliikutuksessa. Hengitys käy tavallisestikin hyvin äänekkäästi, niin että piilossa ei hän voisi missään olla.
Aletaan poistua kirkosta. Hovilainen tuntee tarvetta mennä sakastiin kiittämään rovastia kädestä pitäen ja puhumaan lahjasta diakonissakassaan.
Kun hän kulkee, avautuu nyt tie hänelle kuin keisarille, jonka ohimoilla on kultainen kruunu.
— Hyvää päivää, isäntä Juhmakka, ja hyvin rauhallista joulua! toivottaa sakastissa jo aluksi rovasti ja puristaa lujasti hovilaisen korttelia leveää kättä.
— Meillä on paljon syytä, niin sanomattoman paljon syytä kiittää isäntää tästä verrattomasta kruunusta. Se on oikea jalokivi tämän Herran temppelin vaatimattomalla rinnalla. Kiitos… kiitos.
Rovasti taas puristaa Juhmakan kättä ja kumartaa. Nyt puristaa sitä pastori, nyt lukkari, nyt suntio.
Juhmakka menee lähemmäksi kirkkoherraa, painaa suunsa tämän korvaan ja supattaa muka hiljaan, mutta kyllä sen muutkin kuulevat:
— Se on rovastin vuoksi kuin minä sen lahjoitin. Olen jo monesti hävennyt rovastin tähden kirkkomme kehnoutta.
Rovasti punastuu ja kirkastuu. Hän tarttuu molemmin käsin isännän käsistä ja he kävelevät peremmäksi sakastia.
— Te siis pidätte minusta? kysyy rovasti. — Kaikki rovastista pitävät.
— Todellakin?
— Aivan. Minä kiitän rovastia siitä kauniista puheesta ja emäntäni muistoksi lahjoitan sairasyhtiöön 500 markkaa.
— Diakonissakassaan?
— Niin.
— Siihenkin!
Rovasti löi hämmästyksestä kätensä yhteen. Ja sitten syleili Juhmakkaa pitkään ja hellästi.
— Suntio! Kaatakaa hovin isännälle lasi viiniä! käski rovasti.
Suntio kaatoi juomalasiin kirkkoviiniä ja omalla kädellään kantaa rovasti lasin Juhmakalle.
— Nyt pohjaan! kehotti rovasti. Hovilainen joi kuin sahtia. Pastori häpesi, mutta suntio irvisti. Rovasti kääntyi poispäin hymyten.
Kun Juhmakka laski tyhjän lasin pöytään, kysyi suntio pilkallisena.
— Lasketaanko lisää?
— Juo, hyvä mies, itse ja anna pastorillekin! lähetti Juhmakka myrkyllisesti vastaan.
Taas kääntyi hän rovastiin päin ja puhui:
— Siellä se meidän uusi kivinavettamme on nyt valmis. Uutena jouluna pidetään sen vihkiäiset ja silloin odotamme rovastin herrasväkeä meille.
Lämpimästi pudistavat kättä rovasti ja Juhmakka, jota kansa voiruhtinaaksi nimittää hänen pietarilaisen voikauppansa vuoksi, ja niin erotaan.
— Jos pastorillakin on aikaa, niin tulee mukaan. On siellä kolmitähtistä, sitä pastorin tärpättiä, viskaa Juhmakka ohimennen pastorille ja iskee samassa silmää rovastille.
— Ja nuori herra tulee myös, nyökäyttää isäntä lukkarille.
Pastori tuntee saaneensa myrkkynuolen sydämeensä, on tulipunainen, on hätääntynyt eikä voi vastata.
Suntio jäi kokonaan käskemättä. Hänpä ehättää ulos Juhmakan jälkeen, etsii tulipalopakkasessa hänen hevosensa, laittaa isännän rekeen ja nahkaisilla peittelee. Sitten kumartaa hyvin syvään hyvästiksi.
— Tule sinäkin uutena jouluna mukaan! Juuri tätä oli suntio tarkoittanutkin. Naureskellen hän menee sakastiin.
Mutta Juhmakka lähtee kuin vallat ikään tuiskuna ajamaan. Hänen sydämensä ympärillä on kuin puuvillaa ja aivoissa kirkkoviini kiehuu.
— Näin sitä ennenkin on jouluna ajettu! huutaa hovilainen, voiruhtinas ja Pietarin saksa, kun pääsee edelle toisia kirkosta pois ajavia.
