Air sliders and crawling dragons: how to not speak English

By Ben Nimmo Aug 12, 2010, 14:17 GMT

Brussels - English has become the single largest source of new words in Europe's many languages - but not without encountering resistance.

Across the continent, linguistic experts work full time to make sure that the flow of English words into their languages is kept to manageable levels. And some have displayed impressive creativity in inventing new terms to take their place.

The evolution of science and technology 'too often allows English to invade texts and thoughts, to the detriment of our own language,' the prestigious Academie Francaise, guardian of the French language, wrote on its website.

French speakers should therefore make sure they say 'le fac- simile' instead of 'le reprint'; 'le dirigeant' instead of 'le leader'; and 'le logiciel' instead of 'le software', the Academie says in the latest version of its Dictionary of the French Language.

The Academy has far more tasks than simply keeping the English out of French. Its original statute, drawn up by Cardinal Richelieu in 1635, tasks the body with 'establishing the French language, giving it rules, making it pure and ensuring that all can understand it.'

Much of its time is therefore taken up with questions of purely French linguistics, such as the right way to use the word 'fondamental' (it should not be used to mean 'very important').

But its most creative task is to help invent French words for concepts which would otherwise remain Anglo-Saxon.

Thus the Academy deserves credit for introducing into French words for concepts ranging from the hovercraft ('aeroglisseur', literally an air slider), to the slow-release pill ('gelule', gel capsule).

The French word for a Walkman, 'baladeur', combines the words for 'ballad' (ballade) and 'to stroll' (balader).

And the French are no means alone in their quest to keep the language distinctive.

In Iceland, for example, the Language Institute has reached into the island's history to find a genuinely Icelandic word for 'telephone': 'simi,' originally the Viking word for 'thread.'

The Icelandic for 'computer' is 'tolva' - a term derived from the words 'tala' (to count) and 'volva' (prophetess).

And the Icelandic word for a tank (in the military sense) is perhaps the most poetic of all: 'skrid-dreki', or 'crawling dragon.'

At the other end of Europe, meanwhile, Latvia's Language Institute is trying equally hard to keep its language local.

English words such as 'to print,' 'to download' and 'SMS' have all been provided with Latvian equivalents - 'izdrukat,' 'lejupladet' and 'iszina' respectively.

But Latvians in daily conversation oscillate between those phrases and the so-called 'Latglish' equivalents. 'Printet', 'downloadet' and 'SMSu' are all a part of office life in cities such as Riga.

Even in Germany, usually the keenest country in Europe to adopt English terms, the tide has begun to turn in favour of a little more German - at least in public places.

Earlier this year, the national railway operator, Deutsche Bahn, announced plans to re-Germanize its operations by doing away with its signs for 'counters' and 'information points' and replacing them with the solidly Teutonic 'Schalter' and 'Auskunft.'

But the most striking - and creative - campaign must surely be in Rome, where the Vatican has a full-time staff dedicated to turning English words into its official language: Latin.

The Pope still communicates in the tongue of the Vulgate Bible, and his experts have done their best to tackle concepts such as basketball ('follis canistrique ludus', the game of ball and basket), babysitters ('infantaria'), the TV news ('relatio televisifica') and the overdose ('immodica medicamenti stupefactivi iniectio.')

Some would argue that it is a vain mission: languages are defined by people, not dictionaries, and it is all but impossible to stamp out new words once they have been adopted.

But people use words because they like them, not because of national politics - and some of the terms made to balance English are, at the very least, as creative and attractive as the originals.

Walkman or baladeur? Tank or skrid-dreki? Fans or admiratores studiosissimi? Only time will tell which word survives. But at the very least, it shows that English is not likely to become the language of Europe any time soon.