Argentina: Paraguayan guaraní becomes hard currency in the absence of US dollar bills

[Alby]

The reasons are many.

Often, academics and journalists underestimate how hard it is to write well and overestimate how well they write. That applies to natives of English writing in English, natives of Spanish writing in Spanish, and (worst of all) natives of Spanish writing in English (and natives of English writing in Spanish). Why are the latter two the worst of all? It’s not just for the obvious reason. It’s also because the two languages are different, in ways that we are often unaware of.

Ever noticed how, in a written English language news report of what was said during a speech or a press conference, the report uses the speech act verb “said” repeatedly, to the exclusion of all alternatives (The Presidente said: "Cristina and I are done with fighting")? Probably not. That is because English is much more tolerant of endless repetition of that speech act verb, and an English reader does not expect to find “elegant variation” on it. So we don’t notice or find objectional or boring the endless repetition of “said”. On the other hand, Spanish is not at all tolerant of the same phenomenon, so a Spanish reader would find that same event reported with a single speech act verb intolerable. That’s why we find an abundance of what appear (to our ear) to be wildly florid and unnecessary speech acts verbs in Spanish reports of speeches and press conferences and the like: "El Presidente manifesto / sustuvo/ afirmó/ sentenció/ ironizó/ aclaró/ precisó..."

Written Spanish relies more on hypotaxis: compound sentences with subordinate clauses, hierarchical relationships, syntactical cohesion, clear logical connection, often ending in the subjunctive). Written English relies more on parataxis: phrases, clauses and sentences next to each other, absence of subordinating relationships or explicit connecting elements. When we do use hypotaxis in our writing, we can cut out the subordinating conjunction (e.g., ‘that’), something a Spanish writer can’t do. This difference explains the phenomenon Red commented on above.

Because a large percentage of English vocabulary is derived from single-syllable words of Anglo Saxon origin, an English writer can often find a lower register synonym (and the ear of an English reader will often value that). Orwell says: " Never use a long word where a short one will do." A Spanish writer does not have the same option. Hence, Spanish writing can seem (to an English language native) excessively formal/high register, whereas in fact (to the ear of a Spanish native) it is nothing of the sort. That also explains why the subjunctive in Spanish (both in writing and in speech) is used by everyone, from the president down to the encargado, without it seeming pretentious at any point along the scale, whereas in English the subjunctive has largely disappeared and, when heard, is associated with stuffiness.

The advent of journalism on the internet also seems to be a factor. The reporters often seem to have no space limits (or editors) to provide any sort of discipline. And many of them are milenenials and have never had anybody tell them their work is anything other than brilliant.

We could go on. What it all points to is that, as accurate as it may increasingly seem, machine translation between English and Spanish rarely gives a result that would be considered good English or good Spanish against the conventions of each and the tastes of discerning readers of each language. It is good news for good translators. And it explains the MercoPress phenomenon.

 

[Alby]

I constantly find articles referring to a country, say Chile, where any subsequent reference will not mention the country name, but say something like "that self-same transandean republic".
Where does it come from? It seems to be a generic Latin American phenomenon, did it descend from the boats as well?

Same issue of “elegant variation” by the way. As it is with speech act verbs, written Spanish is intolerant of the repetition of country names (in a way that written English is not). Read any Peruvian journalism and we find the same thing: país llanero (Venezuela), país altiplano (Bolivia), país azteca (Mexico), maybe even the ocasional país salsero (guess which one). A headache for the translator into English but more easily dealt with once we understand what is going on.

These phenomena may not be exclusive to Latin America. The comparative linguists and translation scholars who research and identify this stuff are often based in Europe and compare both peninsula and American varieties of Spanish with varieties of English.

 

[Ries]

Personally, I am looking forward to the day the carpincho becomes legal currency, and can be exchanged for dollars or pesos. I find a nice, friendly, furry carpincho to be much more desirable than a crypto "coin". And, if the economy crashes, you can always make a coat from it.

 

[ben]

I constantly find articles referring to a country, say Chile, where any subsequent reference will not mention the country name, but say something like "that self-same transandean republic"

To quote the abovementioned Mark Twain essay, The Awful German Language:

Having pointed out, in detail, the several vices of this language, I now come to the brief and pleasant task of pointing out its virtues.[...]
The Germans do not seem to be afraid to repeat a word when it is the right one. they repeat it several times, if they choose. That is wise. But in English, when we have used a word a couple of times in a paragraph, we imagine we are growing tautological, and so we are weak enough to exchange it for some other word which only approximates exactness, to escape what we wrongly fancy is a greater blemish. Repetition may be bad, but surely inexactness is worse.

In this respect it might be argued that Spanish : English :: English : German.

Hence, as @Alby rightly points out, “said” is replaced with “manifesto / sustuvo/ afirmó/ sentenció/ ironizó/ aclaró/ precisó”. (There’s lots more, of course - consideró; indicó; explicó; enfatizó; sumó; señaló; expresó; aseguró; declaró; the list goes on).

It’s not just Spanish, by the way; French is quite similar in this regard. Tellingly, Google Translate often renders these flourishes with a simple “said”.

Written Spanish relies more on hypotaxis: compound sentences with subordinate clauses, hierarchical relationships, syntactical cohesion, clear logical connection, often ending in the subjunctive). Written English relies more on parataxis: phrases, clauses and sentences next to each other, absence of subordinating relationships or explicit connecting elements. When we do use hypotaxis in our writing, we can cut out the subordinating conjunction (e.g., ‘that’), something a Spanish writer can’t do. This difference explains the phenomenon Red commented on above.
[...]
That also explains why the subjunctive in Spanish (both in writing and in speech) is used by everyone, from the president down to the encargado, without it seeming pretentious at any point along the scale, whereas in English the subjunctive has largely disappeared and, when heard, is associated with stuffiness.

A minor quibble, but there’s a subtle but huge difference between
“That might seem pretentious, but it isn’t - it’s just how Spanish works.”
and
“That sounds pretentious enough, but Spanish speakers tend to be that way, they can’t help it. It’s how their language works.”

Sounds like you are arguing for (1), whereas I might argue that both your examples and lots of experience points to (2).
What if the supreme assuredness in their opinion/education, that shows everywhere from the rambling columns to discussions on the subte to fighting with bureaucracy, discussed ad nauseam on this forum in years prior, is endemic to the language?

What if Orwell (and Twain) were right, that using a complex word where a simple one will do, both represents and fosters the absence of clear, simple thought? And the fact that the native speakers of some languages don’t learn to do that, does in fact constitute a handicap to that simplicity and clarity, not only of speech but of thought as well?

Put simply (I know, sorry): Your argument seems to be “it isn’t that he’s arguing crap couched in mountains of verbiage, it’s just the language makes it sound that way”. Well, why not both? Maybe the latter clause is correct, and merely the word “sound” need be deleted?

The advent of journalism on the internet also seems to be a factor. The reporters often seem to have no space limits (or editors) to provide any sort of discipline.

Definitely true. Speak to any experienced writer, without fail, and they will praise editors to high heaven. It’s a big part of how good writers became great.

 

[Alby]

A minor quibble, but there’s a subtle but huge difference between
“That might seem pretentious, but it isn’t - it’s just how Spanish works.”
and
“That sounds pretentious enough, but Spanish speakers tend to be that way, they can’t help it. It’s how their language works.”

Sounds like you are arguing for (1), whereas I might argue that both your examples and lots of experience points to (2).
What if the supreme assuredness in their opinion/education, that shows everywhere from the rambling columns to discussions on the subte to fighting with bureaucracy, discussed ad nauseam on this forum in years prior, is endemic to the language?

What if Orwell (and Twain) were right, that using a complex word where a simple one will do, both represents and fosters the absence of clear, simple thought? And the fact that the native speakers of some languages don’t learn to do that, does in fact constitute a handicap to that simplicity and clarity, not only of speech but of thought as well?

Put simply (I know, sorry): Your argument seems to be “it isn’t that he’s arguing crap couched in mountains of verbiage, it’s just the language makes it sound that way”. Well, why not both? Maybe the latter clause is correct, and merely the word “sound” need be deleted?

When Orwell says to not use a short word when a long one will do, he is really saying: if at all possible, prefer one of those short single-syllable Anglo Saxon words to those longer multi-syllable words of Latin or French origin. My argument is that Spanish writer’s don’t have that luxury. And nor do Spanish speakers. That’s why, for example (as happened to me once), a 20-year cab driver with little if any secondary education can drive his wreck down from the shanty suburbs above Lima and stun us by cheerily informing us that his previous passenger had left his sunglasses behind and no se percató. One of the most common errors a novice translator working into English from Spanish will make is to read high register into that all those lovely sounding multi-syllable Spanish words. It’s a much safer bet to do so in English than it is in Spanish.

That’s at word level. But we are really talking about something different: at the sentence level and above. It may well be that all these hypertactic sentences that Red mentioned and that characterize Spanish writing and go on for dozens of words do, in fact, mask wooly thinking. In fact, I know they do: as I mentioned in an earlier post, I have deconstructed many of them to try to discover what they add up to and discovered all too often that they add up to nothing. As I also mentioned, when I point this out, the authors generally do not want to know about it. But these individuals (academics and journalists in the main) aren’t Argentine, so it doesn't seem to be only the result of spending too much time on the subte.

It may even be that this way of constructing sentences and thoughts impedes people’s ability to think logically and to develop sound arguments. I have often wondered about that. But, we see the same thing with English language writers too. Williams notes it:
Whether we are readers or writers, teachers or editors, all of us in professional communities must understand three things about complex writing:
• it may precisely reflect complex ideas,
• it may gratuitously complicate complex ideas,
• it may gratuitously complicate simple ideas.

I would add a fourth dot point: it may precisely reflect that the writer isn’t a logical thinker and doesn’t know what he or she is on about.

As Williams also says: Too many of those who obsess on the trivia <referring to critics who obsess of dangling particles and split infinitives> do not know how to deal with the more serious matters of clumsiness and imprecision. It is those who let clumsy and imprecise language go unnoticed, or if noticed unrevised, that risk letting clumsy and imprecise prose become the accepted standard. And when that happens, clumsy and imprecise thinking will lag not far behind. That is a matter worth some passion.

He is talking about English. So it happens to us too.

 

[Redpossum]

That's quite an interesting dissertation, Alby. I must say that discussing language and writing with you is a very different, (and rather more pleasant), experience than arguing politics with you. You write very well.

You are certainly right about your fourth point. I was in the Liberal Arts department at university, and I saw a very great deal of the kind of sloppy writing you are talking about. People would just string together a bunch of buzz words and call it an essay. Then the professor would give them a B or a B+, and it enraged me, at the time. From the perspective of another forty years down the road, I am inclined to be more forgiving. Those professors may well have had to read and grade 300 or more essays over a weekend, and I suspect most of them dumped a lot of that load on their TA. And to be fair, I didn't exactly go to a top university.

 

[Alby]

That's quite an interesting dissertation, Alby. I must say that discussing language and writing with you is a very different, (and rather more pleasant), experience than arguing politics with you. You write very well.

From the perspective of another forty years down the road, I am inclined to be more forgiving. Those professors may well have had to read and grade 300 or more essays over a weekend, and I suspect most of them dumped a lot of that load on their TA. And to be fair, I didn't exactly go to a top university.

I don't recall arguing about politics with anyone here, or elsewhere. I am interested to know why we think what we think and how we assess the information we receive.

Have more pity on people who have to translate academic Spanish drivel into English, not to make it digestible for university professors but to make it publishable by (supposedly) prestigious English language academic publishing houses. Unfortunately, things we know are complete nonsense (because, in order to get paid, we ended up writing it ourselves in English in the only way we could i.e., by making the nonsense sufficiently ambiguous that, if the author is lucky, the publishing house (and the eventual reader) "might" be moved to conclude that "perhaps" there "could" be some meaning in it) do make it through and end up in print. Very sad.