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2017-06-30 Fri

#2986. ˤѸѤΥ [world_englishes][lingua_franca][linguistic_imperialism][elf][new_englishes][variety]

ܤʸˤʤɤꥢԡ뤷ꤹݤˡ޲ȤƱѸѤ٤Ȥȯۤϡ̤ǤϤʤȤ̱²Υǥƥƥ˴ؤ򡤱ѸΤ褦 lingua_franca Ѥȯ뤳ȤϡܤǤΤȡ侩٤ȤȹͤƤ롥
¾ϰǤϤɤäˡեꥫ䥢¿֤Ƥƿ̱Ϥο͡ιȤ̱²Υǥƥƥ˸ڼ¤ɽȻפȤ޲ȤƵ콡ι줿ѸѤȤȤϡ̷ޤǤϤʤƱȤϡƿ̱Ϥʤ餺Ȥ⡤äαѸѼȤѤƤ륫ֳϰʤɤˤƤϤޤ롥ºݡΥޤϡܡʿ͡ˤˤȤäƤ̵ǺߤξʤϰǷ㤷ŪȤʤäƤǤʸɽԤǤʸŤˤơϤȤǮ
Crystal (279--80) ꡤΥޤȤιˡܼˤĤƽҤ٤Ƥս

The problem is greatest for poets, novelists, and dramatists in the newly independent nations, where there is often considerable antagonism towards English, seen as a symbol of colonial oppression. The dilemma is acute. Should they use the 'enemy's' language, with all the alien awkwardness that comes with the use of a second language for literary expression, in order to achieve an international audience? Or should they use their mother tongue, for which they have an immediate sensitivity, but which will place severe constraints on their potential readership? The solution, many writers maintain, is to concentrate on developing the English of their own region, making it into a language which belongs to them, and with which they can identify. 'Our method of expression', wrote the Indian author Raja Rao, 'has to be a dialect which will some day prove to be as distinctive and colorful as the Irish or the American . . . The tempo of Indian life must be infused into our English expression.' And the call for new Englishes, personal, evocative, and dynamic, has been echoed by second-language writers around the world, in South-east Asia, East and West Africa, and by first-language writers in Jamaica, South Africa, and New Zealand.


ΤäȤơɿͤλ Kamala Das μѼŪʱѸѤƤߤ褦 (Crystal 280)

. . . I am Indian, very brown, born in
Malabar, I speak three languages, write in
Two, dream in one. Don't write in English, they said,
English is not your mother-tongue. Why not leave
Me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins,
Every one of you? Why not let me speak in
Any language I like? The language I speak
Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses
All mine, mine alone. It is half English, half
Indian, funny perhaps, but it is honest.
It is as human as I am human, don't
You see? It voices my joys, my longings, my
Hopes, and it is useful to me as cawing
Is to crows or roaring to the lions . . .
                    The Old Playhouse and Other Poems (1973)


ϡɸѸܻؤῴϤ¿ͲѸѼαϤ븽ˤơ٤ʴפǥåγʹȤʤ

Crystal, David. The English Language. 2nd ed. London: Penguin, 2002.

Referrer (Inside): [2023-02-14-1] [2017-07-03-1]

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