In Defense of Latin
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The reason is that the grammar is so developed that the word order is essentially arbitrary, and that, together with other grammatical features, gives rise to a method I have not seen so fully realized in any other language:
It allows you to express the content in such a way that the way you express it matches the content.
For example, consider the verses:
Daedalus interea Creten longumque perosus
exilium tactusque loci natalis amore
Here, exilium (= "exile") logically belongs to the first verse. The
flexible word order has allowed the author to arrange it so that this
word appears in isolation (i.e., "in exile") from the verse it belongs to, while still fitting the metre
(hexameter), thus matching what is being described with the form that
is used to describe it. The suffix "-que" that can be attached to Latin words to mean "and" makes "longumque" also quite long as a word, stressing how long the exile is.Especially in the Metamorphoses, this strategy is extremely common and applied masterfully: If something is being described that is hard to do, then the sentence is structured in such a way that it is comparatively hard to understand, by using an unusual word order etc. If things are far apart, the words are themselves far apart etc. For quick things, words are omitted that cannot be omitted in other languages etc.
When you say it's the "most powerful natural language" that you know, is that some late, cleaned-up version used by the best-educated? Or does that include earlier / common-use (vulgate?) forms as well?
This flexbility is available in various degrees in other languages too, but, at least in my experience, never quite to such extreme extent.
One thing is definitely true: The most powerful Latin poetry only occurs in dedicated works of art, and realistically, nobody would have been able to pull this off in realtime. And further, even the most educated Latin poets were quite differently skilled in the application of this technique.
Personally, the complete mastery of this technique is one of the reasons why I enjoy reading Ovid before all others: Ovid not only applies this technique in almost each individual verse, but even throughout entire books, for example by structuring them in such a way that the most central message occurs in the center of the book, that metamorphoses that take a long time appear many pages apart etc.
I took 6 years of Latin classes in school (12 yo -> 18 yo). The first day I learned the order "didn't matter", I was so happy. I thought it would make it so easy to study.
Then after 6 years, I was still terrible at Latin. Instead of "The soldier yield the sword at the ennemy", I would always end up with "The sword yield the ennemy at the soldier" (you get the point).
I think the order is so important to make the language easy. For me in certainly didn't help studying Latin (even coming from French). Maybe it was my math spirit or so, I don't know.
But your point is totally valid. Authors (I studied Cicero a lot during the last year) basically use that to enrich their style constantly.
Daedalus, meanwhile, on Crete's long detested
exile, longing for his birthplaceThis translation is very nice, but notice for example that the word "long" is itself now no longer long in the translation ("longumque" is longer, both syntactically and also when spoken, and that is made possible in Latin by the suffix "-que" that can be attached to words to mean "and").
Also, many passages cannot be translated so nicely, for example because the translation would become too long to fit the metre, or because too erratic the word order would in English become.
But perhaps helped with that Yoda has. :-)
My English vocabulary is limited, I had to lookup a better synonym for "long":
Daedalus, meanwhile, on Crete's lingering detested
exile, longing for his birthplaceE.g. "lingering pain", "lingering stench".
Afaik, it means mostly something like "still there, after all that time"
Random example: “I can’t do it” in Spanish can either be no lo puedo hacer or no puedo hacerlo. In colloquial French, j’peux pas l’faire is the only option (or, if you prefer the more standard/formal register: je ne peux pas le faire). This despite “le” and “lo” being direct cognates.
Lots of languages are like this. Czech, Slovak, Hungarian, Polish, etc. And those are just the ones that I know.
Janu miluje Petr. -- PETR loves Jana.
Petr miluje Janu. -- Petr loves JANA.
Petr Janu miluje. -- Petr LOVES Jana.
etc etc
The only people who say that Latin is uniquely flexible are those people with no experience in other languages. If expressive inflection and flexible word-order are your thing, you have lots of languages with millions of living speakers that fulfill that requirement.Latin is not magical. It's just another language. I'm happy that the author enjoys it (language, any language, makes a great hobby!), but I wish we could skip the hyperbole around Latin's alleged virtues just because the Romans happened to use it.
Basically though, in the specific example in the GP comment we know who loves whom by the order of words in the sentence - "${subject} loves ${object}" which is different from "${object} loves ${subject}". We know this because the word order in English tells us this.
But in Czech and Latin this isn't how it works - the word order doesn't have the same significance or meaning as it does in English [1]. You indicate who does what by making a little modification to the words. In this example it's one of the simpler cases - a simple verb with a subject and an object. The subject is the "nominative" case (like the dictionary/default form of a word) and the object should be in the "accusative" case. So it's actually something like "${object.nominative()} loves ${subject.accusative()}".
And just to confuse you further - it's not just "who does what" - there are other cases that denote doing something with or to or in :-) I give some examples in the above link
[1] = that's not to say word order doesn't have a role, it's just not the same role as in English
You mixed it up, it should be "${object.accusative()} loves ${subject.nominative()}".
Or, I guess, how you define "object" and "subject" for "loves" :P But grammatically, for transitive verbs, "subject" is the doer of an action, "object" is the target of an action.
* in romance languages my understanding is that the big deal was that consonants at the end of words and sometimes syllables were no longer pronounced, therefore it was impossible to distinguish a bunch of suffices. eg. final -m nasalized the vowel before it and then later was dropped entirely. Or you could no longer distinguish between -us and -um because they were both -u (later -o).
Haitian creole is the most analytic language I'm familiar with. I gather it's about on par with languages like Ewe, but I know next to nothing about Ewe, so I'm not sure on that. I don't think it absorbed a single inflection from French, though.
Modern English, arguably descended from a creole of Old English and Norman French, is less inflected as either of those parent languages. For example, both Old English and French have grammatical gender, but middle and modern English retain it only for third person singular pronouns.
I don't know much about the history of the development of the Romance languages, but I had always guessed that they are at least somewhat a result of creolization of Latin with local language groups, and, if my speculation (it's not even a hypothesis) is at all correct, that would imply that they all would tend to lose inflection, including agglutination, in the process.
So, all that said: Perhaps the reason eastern European languages are more like Latin in this respect is, ironically, because they were less influenced by Latin?
The loss of inflection due to final consonants no longer being pronounced explains quite a bit of things I found mysterious when learning romance languages without much Latin knowledge.
Some examples using Spanish:
* Spanish lost most neuter forms, but why does it distinguish este and esto [both meaning "this"]? Well, in Latin it was iste and istud respectively, so dropping final consonants still preserves distinct forms: iste and istu. Contrast that with most masculine/neuter contrasts: bonus and bonum both become bonu. (Hence, only one bueno in Spanish.)
* When I learned the language I was always confused why imperfect or present subjunctive first person singular is indistinguishable from third person. (eg. yo amaba, el amaba, I loved, he loved) Well, in Latin, those differed by a final consonant: ego amabam vs. amabat for third person.
At some point people in Spain stopped writing Latin and started writing Spanish, at which point spelling matched pronunciation. But that was not today's Spanish. There were big pronunciation and spelling changes around the 15th century IIRC - see this article for some hints of how it used to look and sound. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Spanish_language
The current "spelling matches pronunciation" thing only occurred because the spelling was updated when pronunciation changed. It is kind of a time capsule, needs to be periodically "maintained", not innate to the language.
Also important to note that there are places where not every letter is pronounced in modern Spanish. Eg. Many accents aspirate or omit S in some positions. Some people omit D between vowels.
1) z and s, or ce and se, are pronounced the same everywhere except some parts of Spain. I guess not an example of silent letters but still, an example of a distinction that existed historically/etymologically but that no longer does in the spoken language for the vast majority of speakers.
2) The h is silent in every dialect despite having usually represented a real sound in Latin
That leads me to think that it could just as easily be that grammar changes render the agglutination superfluous, and it subsequently withers away like a vestigial organ.
I didn't cite that because I'm already blabbing too much about this topic, and I didn't want to overwhelm people, but yes. Also, as cited by the sibling comment, the merger of /b/ and /v/. Also, in many accents, but not all, Y and LL are the same. Also, consonants like /b/ or /g/ are sometimes swallowed when followed by /w/.
> I love you.
> You, I love.
> You, love I.
> Love you, I do.
> Love I, you.
Yes, exactly. When Shakespeare was around, English still had more of these features, and is gradually losing them over time. Shakespearean English always reminds me of German grammar.
The benefit in communication is that the remaining basic form is unambiguous even without proper pausing.
One of the strongest phenomena that produces this resemblance is that in Early Modern English, there was no restriction¹ on forming questions by putting the verb before the subject noun phrase (optionally with a question word before both). In modern German, there's still no restriction on forming questions this way.
Essen Sie Fleisch?
eat you meat?
Sprechen Sie Französich?
speak you French?
Kommt Ihr aus Russland?
come you from Russia?
Glaubt er an Gott?
believes he in God?
Wohin geht sie?
whither goes she?
Wie macht er das?
how does he that?
Wir sind hier - wann kommt Ihr? [a travel ad slogan]
we are here - when come you?
In modern English, there is a new restriction that the verb that gets moved to the front can only be a form of "do"², "be", or an auxiliary verb (e.g. "can", "may", "should", "must", "might", "will", or "have"³, among others). When the main verb is not one of these, the sentence must be turned into a paraphrase (almost always using "do") before forming the question, like "I do speak Portuguese" → "Do you speak Portuguese?" or "I did have a pet lizard" → "Did you have a pet lizard?".I have a German colleague who doesn't seem to have learned this restriction and continues producing German-style, or Shakespearean-style, questions in writing like "What contains that file?", "What message produced that command?" or "Updated you the configuration recently?".
In one of my college linguistics classes, I tried to deny that this change was real because I could still easily understand the Shakespearean questions. The trouble is that they nonetheless sounded archaic to me and I wouldn't actually have produced them myself in speech. So really, I should have admitted that there was a practical difference between comprehensibility and acceptability (and that difference with regard to a historic form is exactly what "sounding archaic" refers to).
¹ I'm not totally sure that there was no restriction at all; it may have begun to appear already but just not been complete.
² Though not as a main verb! Shakespeare has "wherefore did you so?" in Macbeth and "wherefore didst thou so?" in King John, which in modern English would have to be "why did you do so?" or "why did you do that?" rather than "why did you so?" or "why did you that?".
³ In some varieties of English "have" can be used this way in both the possessive and auxiliary senses ("have you any wool?" / "have you eaten?"), but in other varieties only in the auxiliary sense (in which case the paraphrase with "do you have..." is required when asking about possession). I'm not sure whether this still works in the past tense, or only in the present tense.
Btw, in modern spoken German we mostly only have two tenses left: present and perfect. Present is used for the present and the future. Perfect (formed with 'haben') is used for past events.
(Yes, we also still use other tenses. But they are much rarer in spoken German.)
And especially in spoken questions about things people did or didn't do, an auxiliary verb (like "haben" or "sein") is almost mandatory.
"Gingst Du nach Hause?" vs "Bist Du nach Hause gegangen?"
In languages like Latin, adjectives also have different forms which match the nouns they modify, making word order flexible without being ambiguous. In English, adjectives usually must preceed the nouns they are attached to, save a few exceptions (attorneys general, tacos supreme, Optimus Prime).
Peter does give his love to Jana.
To Jana does Peter give his love.
Give his love to Jana, does Peter.
It sounds pretty unnatural, but it is understandable I believe. Not sure if the Czech versions would sound natural to a Czech or not.
Apparently "Prime" is a title or rank among the Transformers:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Primes_and_Matrix_hold...
In that case, it's probably not best analyzed as an adjective, unless we want to analyze "Senator" as an adjective in "Senator Wyden" or "Mister" as an adjective in "Mister Rogers".
In more analytical languages, most of these constructs have been replaced with auxiliary verbs (as in English: I see versus I'm seen, I'm watching versus I'm being watched). With full conjugations, entire sentences can change in tense or action without affecting word order. This may not seem that special if your native language is like that, but as the OP started out saying, it allows for much more expressiveness in (predominantly written) language.
To quote Wikipedia:
the Lithuanian language is unique for having fourteen different
participial forms of the verb, which can be grouped into five
when accounting for inflection by tense. Some of these are also
inflected by gender and case. For example, the verb eiti ("to
go, to walk") has the active participle forms einąs/einantis
("going, walking", present tense), ėjęs (past tense), eisiąs
(future tense), eidavęs (past frequentative tense), the passive
participle forms einamas ("being walked", present tense), eitas
(“walked” past tense), eisimas (future tense), the adverbial
participles einant ("while [he, different subject] is walking"
present tense), ėjus (past tense), eisiant (future tense),
eidavus (past frequentative tense), the semi-participle eidamas
("while [he, the same subject] is going, walking") and the
participle of necessity eitinas ("that which needs to be
walked"). The active, passive, and the semi-participles are
inflected by gender, and the active, passive, and necessity
ones are inflected by case.> every conjugation of an active verb has a corresponding passive form
If we're talking about individual verbs, this does not and cannot apply to any language; there are always verbs that for semantic or syntactic reasons cannot take passive forms. (Examples in Latin: "esse" [to be] has no passive because the passive form of "to be" doesn't exist even conceptually; "sequi" [to follow] has no passive because sequi is, from a strictly syntactic perspective, already inflected as if it were a passive verb.)
If you're talking at a more general level about whether the language offers the possibility of a passive form for every active form a verb might possess, that still isn't true for Latin -- and in fact, the very example you give is quite badly wrong.
> Latin actually had a full 3-dimensional matrix of conjugations: time-based tense (past, present, future), goal-based tense (completed or ongoing), and action (active or passive), with accompanying participles for each case.
Side note: in the traditional analysis, a Latin verb is inflected in five dimensions ("tense", "voice", "mood", "person", "number"). What you call "goal-based tense" is traditionally just called "tense", though I agree with you that it is a separate dimension and shouldn't be conflated with actual tense. In linguistics, this dimension is called "aspect".
Latin participles do not inflect for person or number. Despite what you say here, they also don't inflect for aspect. They do inflect for tense and voice, but of the six possibilities (past / present / future) x (active / passive), only four are possible in Latin -- the present passive and past active forms do not exist for any verb. [1]
(It's possible to make the argument that Latin participles do inflect for aspect, in that some participial forms (the present and the future passive) use the imperfect verb stem and others (the perfect and the future active) use the perfect verb stem. That makes the argument you're making here weaker -- instead of Latin offering four out of six participial forms, it would be offering four out of twelve.)
[1] But remember how "sequi" couldn't have a passive form because it's already formally passive? This opens up a possibility for the perfect participle: secutus can mean "having been followed", the normal perfect passive sense, but it can also mean "having followed", in an otherwise impossible perfect active interpretation of the participle. The "passive form, active meaning" state of the verb can be carried through to its participle.
Moreover, there are other ways to achieve flexibility in word order, such as particles which agglutinate without tweaking the target word in any way:
Japanese:
PetrがJanaを好きだ。(Petr-ga Jana-o suki da)
JanaをPetrが好きだ。(Jana-o Petr-ga suki da)
Petrが好きだ...Janaを。(Petr-ga suki da, ... Jana o.)
Oftentimes in conversation, particles will be completely dropped in a 好き statement. So getting something like "俺、これ好き" (I, this like) isn't uncommon. In that situation, it's the pause marking the subject doing the liking. If the order is reverse, usually the object marker is used, though as in "これすき、俺は" (this like, I).
Japanese grammar is a complex mess. It uses particles and can be orderless, or it can drop many particles (sometimes all) and have everything marked by pauses and timing.
Janu miluje Petr. -- PETR loves Jana.
Petr miluje Janu. -- Petr loves JANA.
Does context define subject/object since otherwise these seem equally to mean Jana loves Petr?Another comment proposed an apropos analogy:
English is like position-based parameter-passing.
sentence.love("Petr", "Jana")
Czech is like keyword-based parameter passing. sentence.love(object="Jana", subject="Petr")https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext...
Laocoonta petunt; et primum parua duorum
corpora natorum serpens amplexus uterque
implicat et miseros morsu depascitur artus; 215
post ipsum auxilio subeuntem ac tela ferentem
corripiunt spirisque ligant ingentibus; et iam
bis medium amplexi, bis collo squamea circum
terga dati superant capite et ceruicibus altis.In Latin the arbitrariness of the word order doesn't usually extend to prepositions (that's why they're called prae-positiones), which should usually immediately precede, and almost never follow, the words they govern. There are interesting exceptions to this (for example ADJ PREP NOUN, like "magna cum laude", or somewhat or completely fixed forms involving personal pronouns, like "te propter" or "nobiscum"), but it's generally a pretty strong restriction.
You might also find flexible word order in any ancient Indo-European language
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inflection#Indo-European_langu...
I think Sanskrit is another example.
http://sanskrit.uohyd.ac.in/faculty/amba/PUBLICATIONS/papers...
> The reason is that the grammar is so developed that the word order is essentially arbitrary, and that gives rise to a method I have not seen so fully realized in any other language:
I have the pleasure to experience this freedom on word order in my native language (Portuguese) and the one I am currently learning (Lithuanian). [1]
Although Portuguese presents this feature, it doesn't have grammatical cases, which I assume it is the feature you describe as "grammar is so developed".
On the other hand, Lithuanian has grammatical cases and other grammatical features (e.g., prefix verbs with prepositions) which, as yourself put it, allow texts to be much more expressive than the ones in other languages I can read. In fact, I am astonished by how compactly and accurately one is possible to expresses oneself in that language!
Is it a case for all languages with grammatical case? Are most of the Europeans (languages) [2] so expressive? Is it possible that more incredible writers than Shakespeare or Cervantes are hidden from the general global public because of the complexity to translate their works?
I have a lot of those speculative questions in my mind, which I expect to find an answer someday.
And thank you for your nice comment.
[1]: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Word_order#Pragmatic_word_or...
valgąs — present active participle
valgęs — past active participle
valgydavęs — frequentative past active participle
valgysiąs — future active participle
valgomas — present passive participle
valgytas — past passive participle
valgysimas — future passive participle
valgant — adverbial present active participle
valgius — adverbial past active participle
valgydavus — adverbial frequentative past active participle
valgysiant — adverbial future active participle
valgydamas — special adverbial present active participle
valgytinas — participle of necessity
The approximate meanings:
valgąs — 'the one who is eating'
valgęs — 'the one who ate; has eaten; was eating'
valgydavęs — 'the one who used to eat'
valgysiąs — 'the one who will be eating'
valgomas — 'something that is being eaten'
valgytas — 'something that has been eaten'
valgysimas — 'something which will be eaten'
valgant — 'while eating'
valgius — 'after having eaten'
valgydavus — 'after having eaten repeatedly'
valgysiant — 'having to eat'
valgydamas — 'eating'
valgytinas — 'something to be eaten'
Taken from http://www.lituanus.org/1984_3/84_3_05.htm
antsivalgyti - (with genitive) to eat one's fill (of); to fill up (on)
apvalgyti - (with accusative) to eat (someone) out of house and home
įvalgyti - to be able to eat up; to be able to consume
išvalgyti - to eat up; to devour; to eat away
pravalgyti - to spend (one's money) on food
privalgyti - to eat one's fill
suvalgyti - to eat up; to consume
užvalgyti - to eat a snack
By what metric?
> which is what makes it so good
By what metric?
> and the one I am currently learning (Lithuanian).
Smagu matyti, kai nelietuviai mokosi lietuvių kalbos. Sėkmės!Dabar, aš mokausi todėl, kad tai man yra viena iš gražaisių kalbų pasaulyje: kaip tai gražiai garsa, koks ekspressiva lietuvių kalba yra ir kiek įdomios knygos parašytos lietuviškai! :)
Oh, feel free to correct my mistakes! :D
> Oh, feel free to correct my mistakes! :
If you wish so ;)I will have my comments in Lithuanian, I think you will be able to understand them just fine.
1. „mokytis lietuvių kalbą“ -> „mokytis lietuvių kalbos“ [0].
2. „todėl šeimos priežasčių“ keisčiau į „dėl šeimyininių aplinkybių“. „Todėl“ čia netinka: jis prasmiškai artimesnis angliškam „thus“, o anglišką „for/because of“ atitinka „dėl“. Pavyzdžiui: „automobilis sugedo, todėl pavėlavau į darbą“ ir „Į darbą pavėlavau dėl automobilio gedimo“.
3. „viena iš gražaisių kalbų pasaulyje“ — beveik idealu, tik „gražaisių“ turi būti „gražiausių“.
4. „kaip tai gražiai garsa“ — turbūt norėta pasakyti „kaip tai gražiai skamba“. "a sound" (noun) -> „garsas“. "to sound" (verb) -> „skambėti“. Stilistiškai vietoj tai „tai“ geriau tiktų „ji“.
5.„koks ekspressiva lietuvių kalba yra“ -> „kokia išraiškinga lietuvių kalba yra“ arba šiek tiek geriau stilistiškai: „kokia išraiškinga yra lietuvių kalba“. „Kalba“ — moteriškos giminės, todėl „kokia“, ne „koks“.
6. „įdomios knygos parašytos lietuviškai“ — nors atskirai paėmus ši frazė gramatiškai teisinga, bet šiame kontekste (su „kiek“) taisyklingiau būtų „kiek įdomių knygų parašyta lietuviškai“.
Nepaisant kelių klaidų, dar kartą noriu pasidžiaugti, kad yra žmonių, kuriems ši kalba patinka ir kurie jos mokosi. Kuo didžiausios sėkmės!
The key phrase is "I know". Latin is not the only one.
As much as you may like this feature, being inflected marks marks Latin as a primitive language, not a sophisticated one. The reason is that it is easy for a language to lose grammatical rules, but very hard to gain them. By this measure French is more modern than Latin because it is no longer inflected, and English is more modern than French because it has lost gender.
In a real sense, Chinese is the direction that all languages are heading. In English we still conjugate differently depending on how many, past/present/future, and so on. These are all vestiges of an inflected past. Chinese doesn't do that.
> it is easy for a language to lose grammatical rules, but very hard to gain them
You're assuming loss of grammar over time is a mark of sophistication, but it's hard to see how. I think you have it backwards.
Literary, classical Greek and Latin absolutely destroy English in their sophistication.
I think some things are qualitative, and other things are quantitative. The Sistine Chapel is beautiful, but my sketches aren't. If I were to design an experiment, I might learn what molecules are moving or how many people agree with me, but that wouldn't change what I know about the elegance of the paintings (or languages).
Latin is the same way. Having spent a fair amount of time in it, I can see its beauty and sophistication.
Modern English is great. I love it, especially the size of the vocabulary. But it's a comparatively clumsy language, and it frequently abuses prepositions. Its over-dependence on word order also makes it easier to construct grammatically ambiguous statements, leading to misunderstandings. I don't struggle with those in Latin. The language is elegant. It doesn't take Cicero to communicate clearly because of the grammar. But in the hands of Cicero it's like fine art.
But if we're just talking about personal taste, there's no real reason to debate it with other people, since it's arbitrary.
> Its over-dependence on word order also makes it easier to construct grammatically ambiguous statements, leading to misunderstandings.
Now this, on the other hand, is an objective, quantifiable statement that regardless of taste is either true or false. Incidentally, I strongly suspect that it is not in fact true, and that you only believe English sentences are more likely to be ambiguous than Latin ones is because you speak and write English better than Latin and so are more intuitively aware of its weirdness.
Again, I don't agree with your worldview. The reason I referred to the Sistine Chapel was to provide an analogy: it doesn't merely fit my preferences better than my sketch. It is objectively better. There is something in the painting that is real. The beauty is real.
But on your view, the beauty is unreal. It's only real if you can measure it. I disagree. Objectively. I think you're wrong and I suspect you think I'm wrong. And that means there is an objective philosophical truth even though we can't measure it.
ETA: not all truth is immeasurable, of course. There are plenty of measurable truths (for example, how many comments are on this thread, or the boiling point of water at standard pressure). But some truth cannot be measured in a laboratory, and that doesn't make it false or unreal.
Is the Sistine Chapel objectively more beautiful than Mondrian's Broadway Boogie-Woogie?
Which is not true at all (ask any historical linguist) and only appears to be true if you restrict yourself to looking at Western European language.
But in reality, there are ancient analytic/isolating languages (e.g., Classical Chinese), and contemporary highly fusional ones (e.g. Finnish, Navajo).
For every Cicero and Virgil, there were a thousand who had said "Fuck I got shitfaced at that whorehouse and I'm fucking sure that bitch took my purse, if mom finds out I'm dead LOL FML," or something like that, except in impeccable classical Latin.
Being inflected is a mark of a language that hasn't yet become positional. It is therefore an objective mark of primitiveness in the language.
Sophistication, on the other hand, is in the eye of the beholder. Which is more sophisticated, flowery descriptive speech or very simple speech that communicates complicated ideas? Arguments can be made for or against Jane Austen or Terence Tao as being more sophisticated.
Latin allows one to say little at great length while sounding very smart. Which a classical education teaches us to value. But when we say things simply we can think and express more complicated things. Which is more sophisticated?
Please put me on the side of Terrence Tao.
> Being inflected is a mark of a language that hasn't yet become positional. It is therefore an objective mark of primitiveness in the language.
This assumes that positional languages work better or are more efficient, but that is not clear to me.
"flowery descriptive speech" a la Jane Austen communicates complex ideas. It is just that different subject have different concept of what constitute useful complexity.
Both Terry Tao and Jane Austen could have written their works in almost any language with little impediments.
In particular here one of the scientific advantages of English is not its simple morphology but its permissive lexicon, where creating new word for new concept is a common occurrence.
If by historical accident we happened to speak Latin to this day it is likely that the major loss (compared to English) would be puns.
Do you have any citations for this? As far as I know (though I'm not an expert), academic linguists disagree.
https://www.reddit.com/r/asklinguistics/comments/abiphn/has_...
Romance languages have gained inflections that Latin didn't have (from the above link: the future tense conjugations are an innovation in the Romance languages that didn't exist in Latin).
Funnily enough given your example, Chinese languages have gained morphology too: Mandarin has the aspect-marking suffix 了, whereas Classical Chinese didn't.
We can't reconstruct the history of language any further back than Proto-Indo-European, so there's no way to know whether it developed from some less-inflected language.
Incidentally Chinese did not evolve from Proto-Indo-European.
For example: a language has noun cases -> phonological changes cause the endings to merge together, requiring prepositions to disambiguate -> prepositions become more tightly bound to the words they modify and are eventually reanalyzed as case markings. Now we’re back with cases even if languages can only take each step in the given direction.
> Incidentally Chinese did not evolve from Proto-Indo-European.
You’re right, but I meant to imply that PIE is the oldest language whose grammar we know a lot about, not that it’s the ancestor of every modern language.
I'm don't know enough about Indo-European reconstructions to make my own opinions on what's exposed on the this side and the paper is a bit dated but examples are very compelling.
This doesn't sound right to me. Primitive and sophisticated isn't really how modern linguistics understands languages (for like at least like half or a full century). There's no straight path of progress for all languages. Note how it can also be reversed by a proponent (or native speaker) of an inflected language: English is so crude and primitive with its robotic Tarzan-like chaining of bare words, as opposed to the sophisticated, properly inflected forms that perfectly blend into the sentence according to their roles. (Which by the way would also be bogus.)
> The reason is that it is easy for a language to lose grammatical rules, but very hard to gain them.
Word order is also "grammatical rules", as it includes syntax too, not just morphology. English has tons of grammatical rules despite having very simple morphology.
Also, in Hungarian many suffixes were originally postpositions but became fused with the words and took on vowel harmony. E.g. "utu rea" (road + onto) from the first surviving written Hungarian text became útra in modern Hungarian, with the -ra/-re suffix meaning "onto".
In recent history, it seems. We don't know whether the trend will continue, do we? Do we even know why languages used to be less analytic?
The argument you suggested "The reason is that it is easy for a language to lose grammatical rules, but very hard to gain them." would not explain why a lot of languages used to have inflections in the first place?
My native Hungarian is also very powerful for poetry. It distinguishes between long and short vowels, allowing for close emulation of Greek and Roman poetry. Being agglutinative, it's also quite free in word order. Well, free is not the right word, because depending on the context and emphasis, only some orders are applicable. The point is, the word order carries higher level meaning, like intention and pragmatics instead of syntax.
There's also a huge amount of poetry written mostly in the 18th-20th centuries, but nobody except Hungarians can understand it so it's essentially unknown outside of Hungary.
Hungarian was really great for allowing me to see language from a different perspective. I also liked the gender-neutral third-person pronoun, where the same pronoun meant he/she/it. That made things simpler.
I got far enough to have simple conversations, and I traveled around Hungary for about 6 weeks one summer practicing the language and seeing the different parts of the country.
That's true, but the options are often more limited than what one might think based on the above. While the same sentence could theoretically be reshuffled in many orders and yield potentially correct variants for specific, often very contrived contexts, when you have one particular context, you often have to pick one order so that you sound natural.
I would say Hungarian word order is fairly rigid, but it expresses not the syntax of the sentence but the pragmatics. Arguably Hungarian is a topic-prominent language [1], but historically scholars have described Hungarian grammar in terms of concepts from the highly-regarded European languages, like Latin and Greek and everything that doesn't fit that schematic was/is regarded as "fluff", "arbitrary" and "free". There's a lot of structured complexity in there, but it's not in popular grammars (e.g. those used in Hungarian elementary/secondary schools and books for foreigners) and Hungarians themselves won't be able to say why one version "sounds better" than another, because we never learn it ourselves. You're just supposed to pick it up, or if you're so inclined, dig up some academic papers from more recent years.
> I also liked the gender-neutral third-person pronoun, where the same pronoun meant he/she/it. That made things simpler.
Yep, good to be outside of all the gender pronoun drama.
It isn't really arbitrary. There is a standard order. You can use non-standard orders, but that changes the emphasis of the sentence. If you don't want to emphasise some part of the sentence, you stick to the standard order. If you are going to emphasise some part of the sentence, that emphasis ought to make sense in the context. (Imagine if I wrote in English "The CAT sat on the mat" – my emphasis on the word "cat" needs to make sense in the broader context in which I am using that sentence, or else I'm using the language in an eccentric way.)
(An exception to this is poetry, where non-standard word order can be used for reasons of metre rather than emphasis alone. But, having somewhat different rules for poetry isn't unique to Latin, the same is true for many other languages, English included.)
But why?
It's just a trade off between marking the roles of your words in a sentence either with position or by decorating your words. Very similar to positional vs keyword arguments in programming languages.
(Interestingly, just like Python allows you to mix and match keyword arguments and positional arguments subject to certain rules, Turkish usually goes for the decoration-approach via suffixes but allows you to drop some of the grammatical markings if it's clear from context. Eg if you provide an explicit number, you don't have to mark your plurals.)
While on the topic: grammatical gender is often seen as arbitrary, especially in language like German were potatoes are female and girls are neutral. The programming perspective on the use of grammatical gender is that they are essentially 'registers' that allow you to quickly refer to terms you just used. Having more than one register is useful, and a somewhat random hashing of terms to registers is fine for that purpose.
(Btw, Turkish has only one gender.)
I do agree that flexible word order is useful for poetry. But then: poetry like all artistic endeavors thrives on limitations. Compare https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oulipo
That's different from questions about gender.
Which makes Latin poetry both intricately beautiful, but sometimes nearly impossible for students to read and make sense of ;)
Would a Roman farmer in the field even understand that sentence? Would it sound natural to them? Would they ever speak it?
The disconnect between literary language and everyday language is sometimes relatively high even in today's world of mass education, where every child is forced to learn the literary language of their country regardless of the actual language spoken in their region. In societies where this wasn't the norm, the literary language may have been significantly more divorced from the natural language which it derives from, allowing much more complex rules to be invented for it...
In many English communities, using the subjunctive case would mark the speaker as being "posh," as would using I/me/my "correctly" ("me and me gran had supper").
I think the average uneducated citizen would similarly note someone as "posh" if they heard them using the pluperfect subjunctive, and, unlike a modern English speaker who has been immersed in "correct" English through the ever-present media of today, they might not actually understand the sense correctly.
As a sibling comment points out, these features exist in may other languages, for instance Slavic languages such as Russian or Polish. Besides, even though this flexibility is theoretically achievable, in practice the day-to-day language is filled with more calcified idioms and ways of speech. You could, in English, say "to you this book I give" instead of "I give this book to you" but I'm sure most agree that's rather slanted even though I believe this is perfectly grammatical. A poet could write the former, but if you say something like that in colloquial speech people are going to wonder if you're having a stroke.
Judging the "power" and flexibility of Latin through the verses of Ovid is like judging English through Milton's Paradise Lost. Only educated speakers would come even close to even understand properly that level of language, let alone construct it.
Of course that's just speculation on my part but given that modern Romance lost the case system almost entirely it seems like there wasn't a lot of friction here. If common Vulgar Latin speakers really valued word shuffling surely they'd have found a way to maintain the cases I'm sure. I could also point out that in Russian (a language I've been studying a lot lately) it's very easy to build a sentence that seems grammatically right but sounds off to a native speaker. For instance Russian speakers tend to prefer to put locative expressions at the beginning on the sentence, so they say "on the table is the fork" instead of "the fork is on the table" which may sound slanted or putting emphasis on a different part of the sentence.
Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Molière
// quae est infernum* Easy to grok how Romance languages work (French, Italian, etc), you can make up a lot of vocabulary on the spot, knowing Latin, and still be right
* Borrowed words from Latin in whatever language (English, German) are intelligible, you don't have to learn their meaning because it's a composite of something Latin
* THis immediately affects your expression in writing as well as speech positively
* Fantastic literature in original script readily accessible
* Many good hours spent with improving the translations of especially tricky passages, analyzing sentences and grammatical structures had great overlap with how I approached thinking deeply about my other passions, Math and Astronomy so I got better at both groking and structuring information as well as patterns of thought when it comes to analyzing interesting problems. Honestly, at the end of high school I hadn't cared had I become a classical philologist if not for the earning prospects of that path.
In contrast, how English was taught as a foreign language never came close. It was a totally uninspiring experience.
English is well "alive", and living implies mutation. In 500 years, our children would be reading our English as we read Shakespeare (that is, with difficulty); and in 1000 years, our English would become what Beowulf looks like today (that is, you can't recognize a word).
Latin doesn't change. Caesar's Latin is Vulgate's Latin, which is Newton's Latin, which is the Pope's Latin, which is the Latin used in Harrius Potter et Philosophi Lapis and Winnie ille Pu.
What is dead may never die. The "English" as we know it will die. Latin will not.
Not really. There are significant differences between classical and medieval latin, since during the medieval period Latin was a living language in use by the clergy and educated. The differences wouldn't have been nearly enough to render classical and medieval latin unintelligble to one another of course, but Virgil probably would have scratched his head at some of Thomas Aquinas' grammar.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medieval_Latin#Changes_in_voca...
The relationship between Latin and e.g. Spanish is exactly the same as between Beowulf-era English and the English we’re speaking now. So I don’t understand your argument that Latin is unchanging whereas English isn’t.
Latin is standardized against the writings of the classical authors, and to a lesser degree, the medieval authors. These authors, being dead, can't change.
He also noted that the various lingua francas since Latin was lost have tended to suffer from becoming the world language. Looking at English today one is hard pressed to disagree.
I often see something that could inspire this argument when I travel, people have made a native and English version of a sign or some sort of text. The English is riddled with laughable errors - why? Because everyone knows English and why would you ever hire a translator, just get Jules down in accounting to do it, he's great! (only it turns out Jules is not great)
I will now, at the end of my explanation of how I think someone might want to make the argument, explain that I myself am not a supporter of the argument (nor do I know if this is indeed what Belloc supposed) and hope not to get one of those responses telling me how wrong I am in believing what I do not have a particular belief in.
But taken further down the path of how the language could evolve to remove grammatical forms not actually conveying anything useful, I think we could happily make articles optional and preferred only when an a/the distinction actually matters; many ESL speakers communicate perfectly lucidly without them at all. Normally if don't include article in sentence it's not problem; except if I write business email like this people think I'm foreigner.
Before English was a global language [and before the printing press tbf] Middle English managed to lose an entire set of grammatical gender markers affecting nearly every word, after the printing press we lost the thee/thou distinction [outside Shakespeare, the KJV and a few regional dialects], and yet we've still got grammar guides insistent on preserving 'whom' and claiming that despite how people actually speak the language one shouldn't really use 'you' as generic third party pronoun
To a lesser extent I think it is also Latin education's fault why the "objective" case continues to linger in English, despite being so mostly dead, as it acts as an education marker. `Whom` is a zombie only insisted upon by certain educations and should just be buried and put out of its misery. The confusion around `me` versus `I` and which scenarios to use which probably will only get worse.
I don't think this was the sort of thing GP was thinking of.
Edit: I didn't even intend for the previous sentence to be an example of a native English speaker producing sentences that end with prepositions, but by happy coincidence it is.
Sure, this might be true, and I'm aware that it's what you meant, but it's not the same as being a way to distinguish native from non-native speakers (or even writers).
Many, many non-native speakers got to quite advanced levels of formal English writing via formal schooling, especially in places like Northern Europe. I suspect people like that are actually more likely to avoid ending sentences with propositions than native speakers are.
I think what the person who started this sub-thread was referring to is stuff that really is intuitive for every cognitively normal native speaker, like the difference in meaning between "the dog bit the man" and "a dog bit the man". Practically every native speaker, including illiterates, would agree on whether "the", "a"/"an", or no article at all is correct in any given situation, whereas it's very difficult for many even highly educated non-native learners.
From Wikipedia:
> An objective case is marked on the English personal pronouns and as such serves the role of the accusative and dative cases that other Indo-European languages employ.
This ability to understand is completely missing from Danish, for example, because (I believe) of the many different vowel sounds and other pronunciation quirks - the result is if you do not speak Danish well most Danes will shut down trying to understand you. Thank God for English in that circumstance.
Indeed my teacher used to joke that the most common phrase in Danish is "Hvad siger du" (what are you saying) because it is so difficult for Danes to even correctly understand each other - a funny Norwegian video on this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-mOy8VUEBk
His Russian colleague did not speak German, and he did not speak Russian. Latin was the only language in which they could communicate, and the first question by the Russian priest was:
re publica missus?
i.e., "[Were you] sent by the state?"
> After World War II the Italian writer and Auschwitz survivor Primo Levi was walking back to Italy from Poland. Tired and starving, he met a priest, who spoke neither French, or German, or Italian. Ubi est mensa pauperorum? Levi asked. Where is the table for paupers?
https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2002-jul-21-bk-chamb...
(I have also used Latin to communicate with a priest with whom I didn't share any other language, although it was less surprising because it was at a spoken Latin event.)
Since some critics were saying that she did not "love her country" (or something to that effect), she replied by recalling a brief conversation she had at Auschwitz with a prisoner from Eastern Europe. Both were teenagers and they were only able to communicate thanks to Latin. Patria mia pulchra est; Familia mea dulcis est; Cor meum et anima mea tristes sunt. (My motherland is beautiful; My family is sweet; My heart and soul are sad). She was still attached to the same country that sent her there.
(Full text in italian: https://www.corriere.it/politica/19_novembre_01/io-non-amere...)
(In fact, what does it even mean for a language to "develop"?)
There are many languages around the world that have followed their national evolution despite no contact with Latin, or even with literacy at all.
I don't think that's a particularly good standard to judge recalling an observation made by Belloc.
The common latin root of many probably helped though.
The global English we, non-native, use is a simplified one. It is its main appeal: an easy-to-learn language, a simple alphabet, many words of the modern world already phonetically transcribed in many languages.
Latin is too rigid to still be used. Too hard to learn, especially by non-westerners and a culture of not allowing "incorrect" grammar (notwithstanding the fact that ancient Romans frequently were 'creative' in that respect)
But yes, global English is much simplified. I consider myself fairly fluent in that dialect yet I have British friends who are able to converse in a vocabulary that makes me incapable of following their discussion. I guess that would be like me using old French and aged expressions.
I was forced to study Latin for six years (plus two years of classical Greek τα ζωα τρεχει). I was not interested at the time, and did not fully benefit from the discipline that was imposed on me. I wish I had paid more attention.
This is a general-reader history of the Latin language that goes from its origin up until its use in the present day (too bad the book was written before the current obsession with the phrase "quid pro quo" in the US!).
Anyway, it really is a riveting tale, and it makes Gardini's argument for him: Latin really was the "language of the West" for the better part of 1500 years, and its ghost lingers on.
More than a decade later, I'm convinced, without bitterness, that it's a waste of time. Sure, it's not completely useless. The stories and culture were interesting (most of it taught in my native language of course, nobody ever learns to read it fluently, let alone speak it), and I'm sure learning to read Latin developed me in some sense, but not nearly in a way that it was worth that many hours per week, years on end. Time that could have been spent on useful skills or leisure, and almost all of the supposed benefits of Latin could have been gotten from learning a language that is still alive. Here in the north of Belgium most of us get French, German and English anyway. Maybe a non-European language would have been way more enriching.
Developing a passion for linguistics further cemented that view, because it taught me a lot of the mythos around Latin is plain wrong, "bad linguistics". Latin is not special, not better, not more logical or free or sophisticated or expressive or anything else compared to other languages. Of course it's beautiful and special, but every language is beautiful and fascinating and has its own unique interesting features. And of course some of the literature or poetry is unique and hard to express in other languages, but the same can be said for Japanese or Dutch. Nor did Latin lie at the root of other non-Romance European languages, Dutch and Russian and Greek are sisters and any similarities are simply retained from some common ancestor (or from language contact, which went both ways). Truth is, Latin is an unremarkable language from an unremarkable branch of Proto-Indo-European. I'm not saying that as a bad thing, the same holds for most other European languages, it's just that the only thing that made it special was that its speakers took over the world. Had history gone any different, we'd all revere Old Albanian, Common Slavic, Proto-Germanic, Proto-Mongolic etc...
I'm open to having my mind changed on this (as long as it doesn't involve bad linguistics), and of course, if people feel it personally enriches, I believe them and I'm happy for it.
That's probably part of the problem. Learning a language is no fun if you can't actually use it.
While I completely agree with this argument (precisely because it is so trivial), I find it essentially pointless. While "usefulness" of an occupation can be somehow quantified and used to convince other people that a particular occupation is worth doing, emotional satisfaction is subjective and not comparable between different individuals. While someone gets a kick out of reading Latin, another may find pleasure in playing sports or gaming. One pastime in no way seems better than the other.
She toys with this question by asking why not study German, Russian, Arabic, or Chinese instead, and I think completely drops the ball with the answer.
The article can convince only those who share the author's aesthetic values.
late 14c., "fact of being useful," from Old French utilite "usefulness" (13c., Modern French + utilité), earlier utilitet (12c.), from Latin utilitatem (nominative utilitas) "usefulness, serviceableness, profit," from utilis "usable," from uti "make use of, profit by, take advantage of" (see use (v.)).
Latin (and Greek also) roots are building blocks which are 'clicked' together to form many, many English words. We don't have to learn the meaning of several hundred separate words, when we can learn a handful or so roots and discern what an unknown word, new to us, means by disassembling it into its component roots.
Examples: (Latin) vid/vis=see, audi=hear, equi=equal, voc=voice
(Greek) scope=see, micro=small, tele=far
Using these roots we can make up words like 'microscope', 'equivocal', 'auditorium', etc, etc.So if we come across some new word like 'television' and break that down to the Greek 'far' and the Latin 'see', we can work out that a television is something that lets you see something that is far away. The word 'telescope' does the same thing using Greek-only roots and also lets you see something far away in a different manner.
In the past, it was considered bad-form to mix both Greek and Latin roots in the one word, but since the arrival of 'television', it seems we aren't as fussed about that any more.
'If the Romans had been obliged to learn Latin, they would never have found the time to conquer the world.' -Heinrich Heine
Lisp is Most flexible I suppose but basically it is fixed form (verb x). Whatever verb is it governs how x is interpret. Also you cannot eliminate (). Hence the basic and simple structure is fixed.
Not sure any use of arbitrary word order.
inorderTraversal(t(V, L, R), Z) :- inorderTraversal(L, Z).
inorderTraversal(t(V, L, R), V).
inorderTraversal(t(V, L, R), Z) :- inorderTraversal(R, Z).
Also, the meaning of ordering of goals with a rule may be significant: ?- not(member(X,[a,b,c])), X=f.
false.
?- X=f, not(member(X,[a,b,c])).
X = f.
Although Prolog aspires to represent logic, it is still really just a logic-flavored programming language.As to the examples using not/1: This is an extra-logical predicate where this flexibility indeed does not apply, since its meaning depends on the evaluation strategy.
However, for this concrete case, we can use the purely logical predicate memberd_t/3 to retain desirable logical properties such as commutativity of conjunction:
?- memberd_t(X, [a,b,c], true), X = f.
false.
?- X = f, memberd_t(X, [a,b,c], true).
false.
memberd_t/3 is available in library(reif) for various Prolog systems.Yes, but Prolog specifies a particular concrete evaluation strategy, and you have to rely on it to write practical programs.
For example, an increasing number of Prolog systems provide, in addition to SLDNF resolution (which is the the default evaluation strategy), also SLG resolution (tabling) as an evaluation strategy with different termination and performance characteristics.
These different strategies are very useful in practical programs, and it would be limiting if one were to prevent them by using extra-logical predicates.
Latin's (or Ancient Greek's, or Hungarian's) ability to reorder words because of inflectional endings is not absolute; you still have things like subordinate clauses and prepositional phrases, even though they're not as ubiquitous as in Romance languages or English. You can reorder things locally, but not over long distances, and some things have to move together.
Interestingly, lots of programming languages have the freedom to reorder big chunks over long distances without altering the meaning, while I've never used a natural language that had that feature. I think the reason for the large-scale freedom is mostly that in programming languages you are usually defining named entities (subroutines, methods, classes, variables, constants, inference rules, predicates, rewrite rules, and whatnot) that the rest of the program interacts with by mentioning their names.
Languages with named arguments allow you to reorder named argument lists freely. My own Bicicleta takes that to somewhat of an extreme and also allows it within "subroutines", depending on dataflow dependencies to drive sequencing.
wouldn't that be a cognitive burden that would hit our brains quicker than a computer, namely short term memory?
Far off re-ordering would be like trying to do mental math in your head that requires memorizing very many results.
Your imperative programs are free up to dataflow.
----
Absent contextual clues, natural languages syntax is also only usually flexible up to recursion. That is, your case markings can only distinguish only so many roles, and relative clauses in relative clauses need to be distinguished by position.
Latin is no more. Don't cling to the past. Move on. English, Spanish and Chinese are the new Latin today.
I think Greek fits this bill much better. Archimedes spoke Greek; Marcellus spoke Latin. Plato and the scholarchs spoke Greek; Sulla, who burned the Academy, spoke Latin. Euclid, Ptolemy, Chyrippus, and Eratosthenes spoke Greek. The intellectual achievements of the Romans were, by contrast, as pitiful as their military conquests were amazing. Even the Roman Empire eventually switched to Greek, which is why the oldest surviving copies of many Christian texts are in Greek, not Latin. (Perhaps the originals were even written in Greek.) When the lost knowledge of the ancient philosophers was translated from Arabic into a Western language, that language was, in large part, Greek; Μανουήλ Βρυέννιος and Θεόδωρος Μετοχίτης, to which we can trace the mathematical genealogy of Gauss and Euler, lived in Constantinople (the capital of the Roman Empire) and spoke Greek.
And of course if we're interested in fecundity
> Dante would never have composed his Divine Comedy without the model of the Aeneid, nor Milton his Paradise Lost
obviously the Greek Homer sang in is considerably more fecund, because the Aeneid is explicitly a fanfic of the Iliad; and Livy was explicitly imitating Herodotus, and Cicero the Athenian rhetors.
More generally, the Renaissance Gardini wishes to flatter owes at least as much directly to Greek texts, both from ancient Athens and from Byzantium, as it does to Latin texts. Gardini's attribution of the Renaissance to a revival of exclusively Latin culture is simply wrong. His complete omission of the importance of Classical Greek influence in the Renaissance is so glaring as to call his integrity into question.
So why, then, was Latin an important academic language 400 years after Μανουήλ Βρυέννιος? Because of the Roman Catholic Church, which was the only refuge of learning remaining in the violent, brutal, ignorant society of medieval Western Europe until the Reformation; and because, after the fall of the Caliphate, the Islamic world, which had been such a light of knowledge throughout that darkest of ages, also succumbed to persecution of scholars and extinguishment of wisdom. China and India had their own remarkable advancements, but they were too far away to correspond much with European scholars.
So Latin filled the role in Europe that Classical Chinese filled throughout the East, being the language of scholarship and culture, permitting the invisible college to transcend the pathetic national borders of the petty thugs that call themselves princes and nobles. The great universities of Europe mostly arose as seminaries, and for centuries all theses were published in Latin. This continued to some extent up to the 20th century: a couple of months ago, I was reading an anthropology paper published around 1910 about folktales of the Native American Ute tribe, and at the point where Coyote and Lizard start having sex, the paper abruptly switches from English to Latin for a couple of pages, perhaps to evade the Comstock Act prohibition on distributing obscene materials through the mails.
I think studying Latin is worthwhile in order to understand that history, and there's a lot of it. But it's not because Western Civilization was built by Rome; on the contrary, Western Civilization barely survived being conquered by Rome, largely thanks to the Muslims.
Also I don't understand your point about Western Civilization barely surviving Roman conquest – surely much worse things could have befallen the Greek heritage?
We could imagine Europe without a Dark Age, and we could imagine a world where the progress of European science did not end even before the Dark Age began. What would that world look like? I don't mean to suggest that it would be a matter of sweetness and light — Athens, too, had its share of slavery, wars of aggression, and political persecution, to say nothing of damned Lacedaemon — but what if intellectual and cultural progress in Europe hadn't halted and even gone backwards for more than a millennium?
Too, Ancient Greek's heyday was not a mere century. Basilios Bessarion, who taught Johannes Argyropoulos in Padova, lived in the 15th century, around the time of the fall of Constantinople. The wrestler Plato was born around 428 BC; his Academy survived until Sulla chopped it down in 84 BCE. Ptolemy didn't live until the second century CE. From Plato's birth to the fall of Constantinople was almost 1900 years. I think that's substantially more than 100 years of really important stuff.
Every single time his response was "No, it's Latin". He never contented that the meaning was wrong, but he never realized that his "Latin" word was first found in Greek.
It made me aware of this weird "Latin vs Greek" cultural thing, which I'm assuming for Americans is religious in origin.
I personally find Greek beautiful and useful.
Nicola Gardini isn't American. He's Italian.
But still why today learn it depend upon the key question. If I do not learn it what is the impact. Not sure. That is my answer.
Learning Hebrew for bible reading. If forced German for philosophical work. Latin? Not sure.
There is a gigantic body of literature, science, history, philosophy, and so on, all written in Latin.
If civilization survives long enough, people will probably still be studying English thousands of years from now for similar reasons, even if there are no more native speakers.
And for the most part, that's a great outcome. There was a tremendous cost to teaching everyone Greek and Latin.
Sure there's derivability of terms in English, but the depth to which that is true doesn't really compare.
I can't say that alone would justify the effort to learn a language though.
However, the rudimentary nature of my understanding has caused me on occasion to derive etymologically invalid words - such as enthnosupremacist - but fuck it, it's English - why can't I mix my etymologies?
(although in this case, I'd probably hyphenate it).
And to an extent far more versatile than anything on the English side of my understanding of language.
Take your comment as example: excluding the Anglo-Saxon words, 5 are directly from Latin and 2 from French:
Latin words: Latin, Latinus vocabulary, vocabulum directly, directus via, via erudite, eruditus
French words: French useful
[0] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Foreign_language_influences_in...
But what reasources are there to understand and read Latin? It seems every resource wants to teach me I need to inflect, which I already know.
I want audio books, children's games, in short comprehensible input.
He also wrote his papers with a quilt.