Would you be interested in owning a copy of an attractive new font called Middle Earth? If so, read on and you’ll find a link to download this typeface created by Swedish designer Måns Grebäck.
When it comes to fonts, there are basically two types of people – those who pay no attention to them as they read, and others who notice the nuances between similar fonts and are fascinated by extraordinary examples.
The reason for my current interest in fonts is due to Microsoft’s decision to jettison Calibri as their default font for Office products. They needed to make room for its replacement, Aptos. Seriously, when you view the two sans serif* fonts, side-by-side, you may be surprised at how little they differ.
To make matters even more confusing, CNBC describes a curious aspect of Aptos saga.
Aptos will remain available in the font list under the old Bierstadt name for people who are accustomed to it. Users can also choose to set any other font as the default.
Apple’s mac computers also allow users to choose their own defaults. One typography community discusses this selection opportunity, even as they bemoan the fact that in many programs, the standard installations include suboptimal fonts.
Unfortunately, many of us work on computers where we have no control over what fonts are loaded onto the machine, so we have created a list of the top 10 most common system fonts everyone should know and how to handle them.
This website offers a brief description and history of ten of the most common fonts we typically encounter. For example:
Times New Roman is a serif typeface designed by Stanley Morison and Victor Lardent in 1931. It was commissioned by the British newspaper The Times, which wanted a new typeface to replace its existing font, Times Old Roman.
And I love their estimation of Comic Sans, one of my wife’s favorite fonts, which I avoid like the proverbial plague. (Delores is a young at heart special education teacher, and I’m more of a Lewisian dinosaur.)
Do use: if you are designing a comic for 6-year-olds. Don’t use: if you want to be taken seriously by work colleagues.
Another pastor, who learned this lesson the hard way, shared his advice with the warning: “pastors don’t let your bulletins print out in Comic Sans!”
Apparently, his astute wife preserved his professional reputation by telling him to (1) avoid using a “smorgasbord of fonts” in a single document, and (2) “resist the temptation to print serious things in less than serious fonts.”
Advice for Writers
While authors have little control over the fonts in which their work is published by commercial publishers, they do have freedom to choose the typeface they use for the actual composition. “How To Choose the Best Font for Your Writing” addresses that latitude in the following way.
Do you have a favorite font? Are you dedicated to Times New Roman, or are you more of an “anything-but-Wingdings” kind of writer? Maybe you haven’t given your choice of font much thought.
Quite simply, as research shows, texts that look good make you feel good while interacting with them. This is why it’s so important to choose a font that not only is easy to read, optimizes line length, and has the right mood, but also is one that you like!
MasterClass describes the various aspects of each font that will contribute to your overall impression of each font. In “Typography for Writers: How to Pick the Best Type for Writing,” they explain the significance of bowls, ascenders, spines, counters, and more.
Typographers and type designers have their own universe of special terms, each of which refers to a specific part of a given letter. Understanding these basic elements of typography can help you decide precisely what typographic style you want to employ to grab your reader’s attention.
InDesignSkills goes so far as to match a number of typefaces to specific genres, saying “we judged the legibility, beauty, simplicity and variety of weights available of a huge range of fonts, and whittled them down to these faithful five.” They even offer an ironclad promise, proclaiming their selection will “never let your typesetting down, guaranteed.”
Obviously, personal tastes play a large role in appreciating or disapproving of various fonts. One author describes how the quest for the perfect font is integral to writers’ creativity.
Let’s talk about one of our favourite writing avoidance devices: picking the right font for your manuscript.
“The Best and Worst Fonts (and why they’re good or bad),” describes the bond a writer can develop with their typographic fancies.
Fonts are one of the most important design choices to make when developing your brand identity. The best fonts leave you feeling like you’ve made an instant friend while the worst fonts are like a stranger who won’t leave you alone.
The writer offers her personal preferences (and prejudices). I don’t agree with all of her judgments, but I am forced to concur with her inclusion of Jokerman and Bleeding Cowboys on the list of “worst fonts.” And I am pretty sure that C.S. Lewis would agree.
Write in the Spirit of Middle Earth
If you have read this far, your reward is to receive the download link for Middle Earth.
As noted aboved, Måns Grebäck is a prolific Swedish typographer. He makes many of his creations freely available to individuals for non-commercial use. (Commercial licenses are available as well.) The independent FontSpace describes it thusly:
With the historic charm of ancient manuscripts and the ethereal beauty of elven realms, Middle Earth typeface weaves tales of valor and legends. Its calligraphic allure is accentuated by rounded contours, reminiscent of Tolkien’s enchanted worlds.
Middle Earth truly is ethereally elegant. Enjoy.
* Sans serif fonts are those without serifs, which are the tiny lines or marks that appear at the end of a character’s stroke. Arial would be a common sans serif font, while Times New Roman is a familiar serif font.
Do you remember when you were making decisions about your future career? C.S. Lewis’ comment on the subject of careers remains quite valuable in today’s rapidly changing world.
Toward the end of high school, I recall filling out some educational assessments that projected how successful I might be in a number of different pursuits. Employability appeared to be the primary focus for the assessments.
Not taken into much account at that time (a half century ago), was what sort of job satisfaction one might anticipate following those various pursuits.
This “graduation” life milestone is on my mind, since several of my grandchildren are presently finishing their own high school years. None have yet “chosen” a career – they are approaching their futures with open minds. However, we have chatted about the major options before them: college, vocational training, directly entering the workplace, the military, or burying themselves in social media and living off of their parents for the next decade or two.
Most lean towards college, without specific programs in mind. Still, I have encouraged them to consider the marketability of various studies. As most are aware, AI is a growing threat. In “ChatGPT May be Coming for Our Jobs,” you can see ten particularly vulnerable fields.
I’ve been thinking about two career fields at opposite ends of the spectrum, in regard to the viability of their futures: Newspaper Reporters (that’s not the positive example) and Security (and not just cyber-security).
The United States Department of Labor enthusiastically declares “the cybersecurity field is booming.”
As of August 2022, there were over 700,000 open roles in cybersecurity in the United States and, according to Bureau of Labor Statistics projections, jobs for information security analysts are expected to grow 32% from 2022 to 2032. It’s clear that cyber talent is in demand.
Compare that to opportunities for newspaper reporters. Just last week the Los Angeles Times (established in 1881) and the Baltimore Sun (1837) announced (additional) major job cuts for their editorial staffs. Whether these two “venerable” publications will exist in print form a decade or two from now is a valid question. And they are simply part of an unrelenting media transformation.
My undergrad degree in editorial journalism has served me well, but would I recommend a similar path to my grandkids? Hardly. I believe the Georgetown University Center on Education and the Workforce is overly optimistic in stating “journalism employment is projected to decrease about 3 percent from 2022 to 2031.” But even with that minor drop, “it will have decreased by 35 percent since 2002.”
Now, many people may say, “of course cyber-security is expanding, but I am not computer literate enough to pursue that.” Well, that is not the only type of security opportunity that’s exploding.
It turns out that the U.S. is not the only place where criminals often roam the streets with little fear of a defanged judicial system. Here, the ill-advised “defund the police” movement has given rise to the need for many more private security firms. Private security is an established norm in many countries. Their expansion in Western nations is more recent.
In one American city, at least, the police welcome the addition of security guards to the safety mix.
Detroit Police’s top brass do not view the growth in private security as any sort of affront or threat to officers’ jobs. In fact, Chief James Craig has encouraged officers to work off-duty security as a way to earn extra cash.
Your Job is not You
Fortunately, as C.S. Lewis reminds us, our job does not define who we are. Nor does it affect the attitudes of those who regard us as friends. In The Four Loves, Lewis reveals how little such considerations mean among “true friends” (and who needs any more of the other, pretend, variety?).
In a circle of true Friends each man is simply what he is: stands for nothing but himself. No one cares twopence about any one else’s family, profession, class, income, race, or previous history. . . .
That is the kingliness of Friendship. We meet like sovereign princes of independent states, abroad, on neutral ground, freed from our contexts. This love (essentially) ignores not only our physical bodies but that whole embodiment which consists of our family, job, past and connections.
In Perelandra, a work of fiction, C.S. Lewis includes a sobering insight for those of us who may be tempted to think that our profession or job makes us “better” than someone else. If you ever begin to feel like your position marks you as someone who is uniquely special, remember these words:
One never can see, or not till long afterwards, why any one was selected for any job. And when one does, it is usually some reason that leaves no room for vanity.
I am sympathetic to young people today as they seek the right path for their life. The future appears more uncertain and convoluted than ever before. One piece of advice that I can confidently offer to those who are Christian, is to pray and seek God’s leading in your quest. And know that whatever vocation the Lord leads you to, will be the ideal one for you.
He’s no Reepicheep, but the earliest iteration of Mickey Mouse just became public property!
One of the little-heralded New Year’s Day events was the entry of the SteamboatWillie version of Mickey into public domain. Now anyone who desires can use the image without infringing on Disney’s copyrights.
Actually, my headline is not 100% accurate. As I just noted, it’s the earliest version of the most famous mouse in the world. However, the rodent’s name, and his subsequent graphic version remains protected. That’s because while copyrights eventually expire, trademarks don’t.
Therefore, as reported in Fortune magazine, “current artists and creators will be able to make use of Mickey, but with major limits. It is only the more mischievous, rat-like, non-speaking boat captain in ‘Steamboat Willie’ that has become public.”
The 1928 poster advertising Mickey’s cinematic debut comes from a great article at Animation Scoop. Without comparing measurements of Mickey’s initial and contemporary snouts, it doesn’t appear to me the public domain version is that much more “rat-like.”
As for differences between the two . . . well, I’m not an attorney, but it appears Mickey’s onscreen persona in 1928 wasn’t wearing his standard white gloves. The poster, nevertheless, shows a Mickey closely resembling the cartoon mouse who was part of many of our childhoods. As noted in the Fortune piece:
Not every feature or personality trait a character displays is necessarily copyrightable, however, and courts could be busy in the coming years determining what’s inside and outside Disney’s ownership.
My question, and perhaps one of you intelligent readers can answer this, is about the image’s “name.” His full name, with his surname “Mouse,” is undebatably trademarked. Can a person legally use the name “Mickey” with the 1928 likeness? My guess is that the first name is not restricted, no matter how much Disney protests.
Speaking of Disney, a company which has become a disappointment in recent years, the Inklings were not big fans. If you are interested in learning more about the Inklings’ opinion about Disney Studios, check out author Jim Denney’s “What C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien Thought of Walt Disney.”
After identifying a number of parallels in their lives, he explores the irony that “you might think that, with all that C.S. Lewis and Walt Disney had in common, they might have been mutual admirers—but that was not the case.”
And, there is always another option. As Britannica reminds us, Mickey wasn’t even his original name. Walt’s first choice (vetoed by his wife) was “Mortimer.”
That’s it for today. Now I’m off to write a book about Mickey’s alliance with Reepicheep. Oh wait, Reepicheep won’t be in the public domain until after I’m enjoying heaven with my Lord, and with the Christian members of the Inklings.
And, even if one could pair the two up for an adventure, they wouldn’t prove compatible. The reason should be obvious, but for an enjoyable exploration of that subject, I commend to you, “Reepicheep and Mickey.”
Artificial intelligence is on the rise. It’s IQ is somewhere above 75, and presumably still climbing. And some very intelligent human beings, are issuing apocalypticwarnings.
“Mitigating the risk of extinction from A.I. should be a global priority alongside other societal-scale risks, such as pandemics and nuclear war,” reads a one-sentence statement released by the Center for AI Safety, a nonprofit organization. The open letter was signed by more than 350 executives, researchers and engineers working in A.I.
Presently, I’m more wary of Russia, China and Iran igniting an end of the world scenario.
But there is one particular aspect of artificial intelligence that intrigues me. And that is the creation of literary works by these programs, which are themselves creations of humankind.
Some people, such as copywriters, feel their livelihoods are being threatened. “My amusement turned to horror: it took ChatGPT 30 seconds to create, for free, an article that would have taken me hours to write.” (And that was clocked way back in January; no telling how quickly the AI could perform the feat today.)
Others – think teachers – are alarmed by how simply this new technology can seduce students to take self-crippling shortcuts. One article refers to this as “the elephant in the room.”
Perhaps all questions centered on AI are inherently questions of ethics, and at the forefront of many teachers’ minds is cheating and plagiarism.
Cheating and plagiarism are two separate concerns, of course. AI is capable of not only drawing together already existing material, and generating new word combinations that cannot be tracked back to any unique original source.
I feel confident that the Inklings would be extremely suspicious of computer-generated “literature.” Yet, at the same time, I think it is a subject they too would find intriguing.
Test-Driving AI
There are a myriad of free sites where a person can enter some basic parameters or directions and await the product of text generated by a synthetic “mind.” I share below some examples of the input—output results of my initial experiment.
I asked Open AI, creators of ChatGPT, to write two limericks, about the Oxford Inklings and C.S. Lewis, respectively.
In Oxford, the Inklings did meet, With words and with wisdom so sweet. Tolkien and Lewis, Their minds in a breeze, Inkling tales made our imaginations fleet.
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C.S. Lewis, a writer so grand, In Narnia’s magical land. With Aslan the Lion, In tales that inspire, He showed us the way to understand.
Next I asked for an Inkling sonnet, followed by two haikus, addressing the Inklings as a fellowship and C.S. Lewis the individual.
In Oxford’s hallowed halls, they gathered ‘round, The Inklings, minds of genius, so profound. With ink-stained fingers, in their fellowship, They wove their tales, from wisdom’s well to sip.
Tolkien, the philologist of ancient lore, In Elvish tongues, his stories did explore. Lewis, the Christian apologist true, In Narnia’s world, he brought God’s message through.
Williams, Barfield, Dyson, and the rest, In literature and faith, they were blessed. Their words a beacon in a world so dark, Igniting minds with sparks from wisdom’s arc.
Oxford’s Inklings, their legacy remains, In timeless tales, where inspiration reigns.
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Inklings’ minds aflame, Oxford’s thinkers left their mark, Words and wisdom’s claim.
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C.S. Lewis penned grace, Faith and fantasy embraced, Words that still embrace.
And finally, I requested: “write a story about C.S. Lewis really traveling to Narnia.” The program has a “regenerate” button to address the same query with a fresh response. Due to their lengths, I’ve included them as “footnotes” below.
Shockingly, to me at least, it took less than 10 minutes to complete all of this. Each response, in fact, took mere seconds . . . not much longer than the time required to type the requests.
There are a growing number of companies offering AI services. Most offer free opportunities to test their wares. I decided to try one such vendor.
WriterHand declares “our tool is 100% free, allowing you to create limitless text and blog content with the assistance of artificial intelligence.” I requested of them a sonnet and haiku, as well. The first follows, with two other variants in the footnotes below.
The Oxford Inklings, a literary group Of J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and more Created stories that still make us droop And have us seeking out their lore.
Their works of fantasy and myth Fill our imaginations with delight We all search for the answers they lit To the depths of our inner sight.
They wrote of worlds we can explore Of knights, dragons and magical things We follow their tales and come back for more And find joy in their musings.
The Oxford Inklings have a special charm Their words bring us together in song And we are forever in their warm Enchanting arms of wonder and long.
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Inklings of Oxford Stories of fantasy told Enchantment forever
As with ChatGPT, I ended by requesting a brief, fictional story. My request was for a story about:
C.S. Lewis Meeting an Actual Talking Marsupial
On a recent summer day, C.S. Lewis, the famed author of the Chronicles of Narnia series, had a very extraordinary encounter. He had the chance to meet an actual talking marsupial.
The marsupial was a small wallaby, and it was found on the grounds of Lewis’ estate. It was not long before the wallaby began speaking to Lewis in a highly sophisticated manner. The wallaby spoke in a dialect that sounded similar to English, and was even able to converse with Lewis about the various topics he enjoyed discussing.
The wallaby was quite curious about Lewis and seemed to be quite eager to learn more about him and his works. It asked numerous questions about the Narnia series and the world that Lewis had created. It seemed to be quite fascinated by the various creatures and wonders that he had described.
The wallaby seemed to be quite intelligent and even asked for Lewis’ advice on certain topics. Lewis found the wallaby’s interest in the Narnia series quite amusing and was quite impressed by its intelligence and wit.
This meeting between Lewis and the talking marsupial was one that Lewis would never forget. It was an experience that he found both fascinating and enlightening. He was amazed by the marsupial’s intelligence and ability to converse on a level that exceeded many humans.
Lewis was quite taken aback by the talking marsupial’s presence and the conversation that ensued. He was quite intrigued by the creature’s intelligence and the fact that it could understand complex topics. This experience would later serve to further inspire Lewis’ writing and help him create some of the most beloved characters in literature.
This experience between Lewis and the talking marsupial was truly extraordinary and one that will never be forgotten. It was a meeting that allowed Lewis to learn more about the creatures that inhabit his beloved Narnia and to gain a better understanding of the power of imagination and creativity.
A Final Thought from C.S. Lewis
One of C.S. Lewis’ countless correspondents was the famous British author Arthur C. Clarke. In 1954, they exchanged letters discussing the human element of literature. I suppose it’s a subject for philosophers to explore, but one wonders how clearly the “humanity” element is communicated through a nonhuman mechanism. Sadly, Lewis’ letter is not so prescient as to address our current question, but it was sufficient to raise the matter in my own thoughts.
Dear Clarke,
Human interest, yes. But that is inevitably present if the fears and hopes and wonders of the astronauts are vividly realised – e.g. as in Bedford & Cavor on the Moon [he refers here to H.G. Wells’ The First Men in the Moon] or even Crusoe on the island. And an author who can’t do that won’t mend matters by dragging in Crooks, Crutches, or Conspiracies: for the sort of story he drags in will be just as lacking in Human interest as his space story.
About ‘escapism,’ never let that flea stick in your ear. I was liberated from it once & for all when a friend said ‘These critics are v. sensitive to the least hint of Escape. Now what class of men would one expect to be thus worked-up about Escape? – Jailers.’ Turn-key critics: people who want to keep the world in some ideological prison because a glimpse at any remote prospect would make their stuff seem less exclusively important.
Fantasy & S-F. is by miles the best. Some of the most serious satire of our age appears in it. What is called ‘serious’ literature now – Dylan Thomas & Pound and all that – is really the most frivolous. All the best. Yours C.S. Lewis
The two brief stories below were generated by ChatGPT in response to the request for a story about Lewis actually visiting Narnia.
In the quiet confines of his cozy Oxford study, C.S. Lewis sat by his flickering fireplace, a manuscript of his latest book on theology resting on his desk. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, marking the time as late evening gave way to the inky embrace of night. Lewis’s eyes grew heavy, and he decided it was time to retire to bed.
As he settled into his comfortable bed, he couldn’t shake the feeling of restlessness that had gripped him that evening. He stared at the wardrobe across the room, the same wardrobe that had once belonged to his grandparents and had always fascinated him as a child. He closed his eyes and drifted into a dream, or so he thought.
To his astonishment, Lewis found himself standing before the wardrobe, which now seemed more magnificent than ever. It loomed like a gateway to another world, and he couldn’t resist the urge to open its creaking doors. With a sense of wonder and trepidation, he stepped inside.
Instead of feeling wood beneath his feet, Lewis’s toes sank into soft, cool earth. He looked around and found himself standing in a dense, snow-covered forest. The air was crisp and carried a scent of pine and adventure. He realized that he was in Narnia.
Before him stood a lamppost, its light casting a warm and inviting glow. Lewis recognized it from his own stories. He couldn’t help but smile, realizing that he had somehow stepped into the world he had created through his Chronicles of Narnia.
As he ventured deeper into the forest, Lewis encountered creatures of myth and magic—talking animals, fauns, and even a majestic lion named Aslan. They welcomed him with open arms, for they knew him as the one who had brought their world to life through his words.
Days turned into weeks, and Lewis explored Narnia with childlike wonder. He sailed on the Dawn Treader, encountered the White Witch, and witnessed the coronation of King Caspian. He marveled at the beauty of Narnia’s landscapes, the bravery of its inhabitants, and the profound wisdom of Aslan.
Throughout his journey, Lewis engaged in deep conversations with the creatures of Narnia, discussing matters of faith, morality, and the nature of storytelling. Each encounter enriched his understanding of the Christian faith he had embraced in the real world.
Eventually, Lewis knew that he had to return to his own world. With a heavy heart, he stood before the same lamppost where he had first arrived and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was back in his Oxford bedroom, the wardrobe standing silent and ordinary once more.
He sat at his desk, the manuscript still awaiting him, but now with a newfound sense of purpose and inspiration. The memories of Narnia, his journey, and the lessons he had learned would forever shape his writing and his faith.
C.S. Lewis had indeed traveled to Narnia, not in body, but in spirit and imagination, and his stories would continue to transport readers to that magical world for generations to come.
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Using the “regenerate” option with the same command: “write a story about C.S. Lewis really traveling to Narnia.”
Once upon a time in the quiet town of Oxford, C.S. Lewis, the renowned author and scholar, found himself embarking on a remarkable adventure. It was a crisp, autumn evening when he was invited to attend a secret gathering by a mysterious stranger who had slipped an enigmatic note under his door. The note simply read, “Come, Narnia awaits.”
Intrigued and a bit skeptical, Lewis decided to follow the call. He put on his overcoat, grabbed his umbrella, and stepped out into the cool night. The moon was a silvery crescent in the sky, casting an eerie glow on the cobblestone streets.
As he followed the directions given in the note, Lewis found himself walking through an old, secluded part of Oxford that he had never seen before. The air seemed to grow colder, and the world around him took on an otherworldly quality. Suddenly, he stumbled upon a large, ancient wardrobe tucked away in the corner of a park.
With a sense of déjà vu, Lewis remembered writing about such a wardrobe in one of his stories. He cautiously opened the wardrobe door, half-expecting it to be filled with coats and mothballs. To his astonishment, the wardrobe seemed to stretch and expand, and he found himself tumbling headfirst into a land covered in snow and surrounded by towering fir trees.
He had arrived in Narnia.
The moment his feet touched the snowy ground, Mr. Tumnus, the faun, rushed forward with a smile and exclaimed, “Welcome, dear friend! We’ve been waiting for you.”
Lewis was both bewildered and delighted. As he explored Narnia, he met talking animals, dwarves, and even the great lion, Aslan, whom he had created in his own stories. The world he had once imagined had come to life before his eyes.
Days turned into weeks, and Lewis became a beloved member of the Narnian community. He marveled at the beauty and wonder of this magical land. He listened to the tales of its inhabitants, learned from their wisdom, and shared stories of his own.
But as all adventures must come to an end, Lewis knew he couldn’t stay in Narnia forever. With a heavy heart, he approached the wardrobe once more and stepped back into his own world, leaving Narnia behind.
Back in Oxford, Lewis couldn’t help but wonder if his journey to Narnia had been a dream or a product of his imagination. Yet, the memories were vivid, and the lessons he had learned about faith, courage, and the power of imagination remained with him for the rest of his days.
And so, the story of C.S. Lewis’s extraordinary voyage to Narnia remained a secret he carried with him, a testament to the enduring magic of literature and the boundless possibilities of the human imagination.
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Variants of the sonnet and haiku produced by WriterHand follow.
The Oxford Inklings were a group of friends Whose conversations filled the air with wit and wit; Their words of wisdom still live on to this day, Their legacy of literature still stands tall and lit.
From C.S. Lewis to J.R.R. Tolkien They bantered and debated through the night; Their words and stories filled us all with joy, A source of inspiration, both dark and light.
From fantasy to science fiction, The Inklings had a way with words; Their genres and stories still stand the test of time, And their influence still continues to be heard.
The Oxford Inklings and their works Will live on in the hearts of many; Their words will inspire generations to come, A lasting legacy of literary plenty.
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The Inkling’s works shine A legacy of wisdom still In our hearts, forever
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The Oxford Inklings were a unique group Formed in the city of dreaming spires A gathering of friends with a shared goal To explore the depths of their desires
A fellowship of authors, poets, and more Including Tolkien, Lewis, and Williams Discussing literature, theology, and lore In the Eagle and Child’s hidden realms
From the Inklings came works of great fame The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings Legends of Middle Earth and tales of great shame A legacy that will last through the ages
The Oxford Inklings were a brilliant crew Inspiring writers and readers anew.
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Oxford Inklings’ lore In tales of fantasy and truth Lives on forever
“A poetic translation is always to some extent a new work of art.” C.S. Lewis English Literature in the Sixteenth Century
C.S. Lewis was a gifted translator. One who recognized well the challenges of skillful rendition, including the differing requirements imposed by prose and poetry. Thus, in his essay “The Literary Impact of the Authorised Version,” he offers the following insight.
No translation can preserve the qualities of its original unchanged. On the other hand, except where lyrical poetry is in question, the literary effect of any good translation must be more indebted to the original than to anything else.
In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis describes his transformative encounter with translated poetry that introduced him to the “northern sky.” Before he became a skilled translator in his own right, he describes how a major part of his awakening,
. . . came through poetry. I had become fond of Longfellow’s “Saga of King Olaf:” fond of it in a casual, shallow way for its story and its vigorous rhythms.
But then, and quite different from such pleasures, and like a voice from far more distant regions, there came a moment when I idly turned the pages of the book and found the
unrhymed translation of Tegner’s Drapa and read
I heard a voice that cried, Balder the beautiful Is dead, is dead
I knew nothing about Balder; but instantly I was uplifted into huge regions of northern sky, I desired with almost sickening intensity something never to be described (except that it is cold, spacious, severe, pale, and remote) and then, as in the other examples, found myself at the very same moment already falling out of that desire and wishing I were back in it.
One of Lewis’ most involved explanations of the subject is found in Reflections on the Psalms. As Mere Inkling has noted in the past, C.S. Lewis was a distinguished member of a committee appointed to “revise the Psalter.” Being poetry, the Psalms demanded the proper mindset in their translators.
What must be said, however, is that the Psalms are poems, and poems intended to be sung: not doctrinal treatises, nor even sermons. . . . Most emphatically the Psalms must be read as poems; as lyrics, with all the licences and all the formalities, the hyperboles, the emotional rather than logical connections, which are proper to lyric poetry.
They must be read as poems if they are to be understood; no less than French must be read as French or English as English. Otherwise we shall miss what is in them and think we see what is not.
Some translations, unfortunately, are intentionally corrupted. I described in 2020 the Communist Chinese twisting of the Christian Scriptures. Fortunately, this sort of intentional crime is rare, and most translation efforts are well motivated. That does not mean, however, that even gifted linguists are up to every challenge.
In a letter to the editor of The Christian Century, C.S. Lewis contrasted academic and vernacular translations. Declaring that “any fool can write learned language,” he argues that clergy in particular are faced with the challenge of translating languages into prose which is understandable to the general population. He begins by demurring that he cannot respond to a request for an article written for a popular American audience.
An article on “translation” such as Dr. Pittenger suggests . . . certainly needs doing, but I could not usefully do it for Americans. The vernacular into which they would have to translate is not quite the same as that into which I have translated. Small differences, in addressing proletarians, may be all-important.
In both countries an essential part of the ordination exam ought to be a passage from some recognized theological work set for translation into vulgar English – just like doing Latin prose. Failure on this exam should mean failure on the whole exam.
It is absolutely disgraceful that we expect missionaries to the Bantus to learn Bantu but never ask whether our missionaries to the Americans or English can speak American or English. Any fool can write learned language. The vernacular is the real test.
C.S. Lewis remained an avid reader and critic until his death. In 1961, he received some translations of “modern” Greek poetry from his friend, Muriel Bradbrook (1909-1993), a Professor of English at Cambridge. After thanking her for the gift, he offers his personal response to the intercultural translations.
Dear Muriel,
What a nice thing for a man half drowned in compulsory leisure [due to poor health] . . . It has set me a problem. I find I get a good deal of pleasure out of many of these poems, but am at a loss to say why. One is not getting the “numbers” – and so far as I can judge from the notes the metres of the originals would not much please me.
Nor am I much in sympathy with many of the poets’ moods. The pleasure is like – at least rather like – what I get out of most translations of Chinese lyric. But that isn’t a solution, but merely another problem of the same sort. Anyway, thanks very much indeed.
Advice to Budding Translators
So many good works of literature remain to be translated so they can benefit those unfamiliar with their original tongue. Several years ago, I wrote a column entitled “C.S. Lewis’ School of Translation,” assembling some of the great writer’s wisdom.
I recently encountered a curiously brilliant observation on the subject of translating poetry in C.S. Lewis’ English Literature in the Sixteenth Century. Although he refers here to advising others, it would be wise for any of us who are considering the task to reflect long on Lewis’ acumen.
Most of us, I suspect, would advise a mediocre poet, if he must translate, to avoid the greater originals and choose the less, as if these would be easier. But this is probably a mistake.
The great poets have so much wealth that even if you lose two-thirds of it on the voyage home you can still be rich on the remainder: slighter art, when it loses the perfection of its original form, loses all power of pleasing.
As I think about it, this advice likely applies to prose as well. If you or I someday attempt to translate a work, we should consider working with the richest possible source material. That way, even if it loses value in the process, the quality that remains will still possess value for our translation’s readers.
Here at Mere Inkling our admiration for C.S. Lewis moves us to emulate some of his practices. Thus, we are avid readers and we also enjoy learning new words.
Some of us even enjoy inventing new words. No, we’re not so presumptuous as to desire to wend our ways into the dictionary. We just find this creative game to be both fun and useful for promoting mental health.
The challenge is providing rational definitions for our neologisms. These meanings can be serious or absurd; that doesn’t matter. Here are four I recently devised. (More, from years past, are available in the links I have included above.)
: Zambaloney : noun
A succulent cut of meat served only in skating rinks while the ice is being resurfaced during formal sporting competitions.
: Teguchigulper : noun
The indigenous name for the Honduran species of Chupacabra.
: Belladonut : noun
The presentation of poison derived from the perennial Atropa belladonna in appealing confectionaries. See also, doughnut.
: Sinderella : noun
The Brothers Grimm story about a beneficent stepmother who learns her two biological daughters are being terrorized by their physically beautiful yet wicked stepsister.
We’re Not Alone
If you have tried your hand at this, or at least think it’s curious, you might be surprised to learn there are online “word generators” that perform at least part of this function. Let me mention a couple before sharing some more of my own inventions.
Unfortunately, some only toss out made up words, in literary isolation. This is the case of Random Word Generator, which did, however, suggest the intriguing word “picneted.”
Nonsense Word Generator “generates nonsense words based on a frequency list of phonemes as they occur in legitimate English words.” They claim “an actual word may slip through occasionally but it should mostly generate pronounceable gibberish.”
Since gibberish isn’t what I’m after, and I haven’t yet found an artificial intelligence website offering what I seek, it’s up to human beings to fill the gap. I hope you enjoy at least one or two of my other neologisms which follow.
New Words & Apropos Definitions
: Dramadairy : noun
A business offering various products created from camelid milk. Suspense is generated by the uncertainty as to the particular species from the genus Camelus that provided the day’s primary ingredient.
: Sir Mize : proper noun
A minor noble of the Carolingian dynasty noted for his skill at accurately assessing situations despite lacking clear evidence for his hypotheses.
: Fleedom : verb
The attempt to escape restrictions imposed by an autocratic government.
: Califate : noun
The final destiny awaiting those who seek to impose their religion on others by means of violence rather than through thoughtful conversation and compassionate service.
: Hippocampus : noun
Commonly considered a region of the brain, the word originally referred to the special academies where priestesses of Taweret schooled Egypt’s hippopotami to serve Pharaoh.
: Integreation : verb
The process through which individuals or different groups are incorporated into a common whole, resulting in a truly synergistic benefit to all.
: Sinergy : noun
The crippling illusion that one should embrace diverse expressions of evil simply because they have become a standard practice under a decadent worldview.
: Laboratorinthine : adjective
Applied to extremely complex, often inescapable, research and medical facilities hosting arcane experiments on human subjects. See also, “science fiction and horror tropes.”
: Confort : noun, verb
noun : The false sense of security felt by a vulnerable individual who is being successfully deceived by a criminal. See conforter.
verb : The act of pretending to render aid or support to someone in need while laying the groundwork for a malevolent action toward them.
: Pintacostal : noun
Members of an ecstatic religious sect who allege that their ancestors arrived in America in the fifteenth century aboard one of Christopher Columbus’ smaller caravels.
: Calumknee : noun
Defamatory statements, especially directed toward athletes, related to the largest joint in a particular person’s anatomy.
: Commaraderie : noun
The collegiality felt by writers who advocate the use of the Oxford comma in lists of three or more items.
: Peripathetic : adjective
Traveling from place to place and job to job without ever finding the right fit.
: Lyberry : noun
A fruit concoction comprised of berries cleansed with minute amounts of lye water, which can be fatal if mismeasured. Not to be confused with the tragic mispronunciation of “library.”
: Indogtrination : noun
The process of training people to uncritically embrace a canine belief system and obedience to arbitrary and sometimes self-injurious commands. Antonym of catechesis.
: Banalgesic : noun
A drug designed to reduce the pain induced by participating in a banal conversation.
: Farmageddon : noun
Subterranean postapocalyptic nutrient harvesting plants specializing in either edible algae or plant-based meat alternatives (derived from algae).
: Olympipad : noun
Special edition of Apple’s iPad scheduled for release in conjunction with Olympiad XXXIV in Los Angeles in 2028.
And, as a final tribute to that great writers and saints, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien:
: Nearnia : noun
A fantastical world which does not require a Wardrobe to discover, but is as close as one’s own inspired imagination. See also, “Median Earth.”
Whoever says “getting there is half the fun” is not referring to the arduous journey undertaken by writers seeking publication.
We writers – I say “we” because odds are you share my literary interests – we writers believe we have something to say that is worth hearing. Something that can genuinely benefit others.
That’s why we undertake the labor of writing, often without any financial reward. That’s why we risk revealing ourselves, becoming vulnerable to criticism and even ridicule.
This desire to share is why we invest the time and emotional energy required to imprint our thoughts and feelings on paper, literal and digital. It’s also the reason we strive to improve our literary skills. Writing well, is not easy.
Some writers enjoy the actual process of writing, but for many of us it is too akin to “work” to be considered fun. A decade ago, I wrote about “The Satisfaction of Writing.”
In the post I confessed I don’t find the writing process all that grand. It was enlightening when I realized it’s not writing I enjoy, but the “satisfaction of having written.” And, having something published multiplies that level of satisfaction, particularly when what I have written finds a home in a publication edited by others.
And that brings me to my good news.
My Recent Publication
This week I received a complimentary copy of a new volume published by Rowman & Littlefield, an academic publishing house.
Theology and Star Trek gathers a group of scholars from various religious and theological disciplines to reflect upon the connection between theology and Star Trek anew.
Among the twenty chapter essays included in the volume is one written by yours truly. In “Starfleet’s AWOL Chaplain: Why Star Trek’s Federation Lacks Chaplains,” I explore Gene Roddenberry’s firm rejection of chaplains in his fictional universe.
I have been a fan of Star Trek ever since I watched the first episode of the original series air on September 8, 1966. And I am extremely proud to have contributed a chapter to Theology and Star Trek.
Allow me to share with you an insight I gained from this experience. It has to do with the project’s extended timeline. Admittedly, part of the delay was apparently caused by the covid epidemic, but even without that interruption, it takes a long time for an academic collection such as this to finally see print.
In October of 2018, I learned about the project and submitted an initial proposal for inclusion in the book. On New Year’s Eve I received acceptance of the proposal and an invitation to submit a “manuscript of approximately 5,000 words” by the first of May 2019. Deadline was extended to June first. First draft was mailed to the co-editors. After my extensive research, the manuscript numbered an immodest 17,442 words.
On July first I accepted the invitation to abbreviate my manuscript, which might be published in some future day, in an appropriately independent version as “a short book.” Revised chapter forwarded on 11 July: “Full word count now is 5549, but since 1528 are in the endnotes, the actual text for the chapter is only 4011, of which 169 constitute the abstract.”
Nearly a year later, on June 9, 2020, I received editorial suggestions from the editors and on June 30, 2020 I submitted my edited chapter. On September 11, 2021, the editors apologized for delays and said they were sending all of the essays out for peer review. On June 11, 2022 I inquired with the editors as to whether the project may have been dropped, and was pleased to learn that it was still underway. The editor said the essays had been returned to writers to incorporate peer review comments. Since my essay had “only minor comments,” they were able to amend it without involving me.
In July 2022 we worked together online with the Index, and reviewed our bio entries for the volume. On March 17, 2023 the publisher’s proofs for Theology and Star Trek were available for our personal review of our essays. April 11, 2023 marked completion of the corrected proof copy, and we added the actual pages for each of the subjects we had added to the index. Sent my final confirmation of the indexing, noticed a minor error in my chapter that was too late to fix, and waited for the arrival of my copy of the finished work . . . which arrived slightly under five years after I asked to join the project.
Lessons learned: (1) be more conscientious about meeting the word length guidelines, (2) be patient, and (3) remain patient.
Even as I share this extended timetable, I’m conscious of the fact I am no expert on the subject. I feel a bit like the people to whom C.S. Lewis referred in a 1952 letter to his publisher, Geoffrey Bles.
I often smile when I compare my ignorance with the knowingness of some people who, on the strength of having published one book, seem to have the whole mystery of publishing, printing, & binding by heart.
Advice to Writers
If you’ve followed Mere Inkling for a while, you’re aware I occasionally offer modest writing tips.
Two years ago I wrote a post entitled “Are You an Author or an Editor?” In it I discussed some distinctions between different aspects of our writing lives. In “C.S. Lewis and the Oddities of Editors,” I highlighted that great author’s amazement at the arbitrary decisions made by editors.
In “On Choosing Between a Child and a Book,” I even addressed the delicate subject of whether an individual would prefer to leave a book, rather than a child, as their legacy. Several more articles on related subjects are linked here.
A Word of Encouragement
Sadly, many aspiring writers feel like they will never “arrive” – in terms of seeing their words in “traditional” print. We must, nevertheless, remain persistent since, if we quit writing, that end is all but guaranteed.
However, when we read widely, and physically sit down with pen or keyboard, our chance of seeing our name in print rises geometrically. When we continue to study the art of writing and when we continue to sharpen our skills by stretching beyond our comfort zones, our efforts are often rewarded.
The internet abounds with stories of people who were not published until late in life. And there are many whose work only gained fame after their deaths.
Some popular writers, including C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, were prolific. They enjoyed some renown during their lives, but have only grown in their popularity posthumously. Many writers have left unfinished projects which have been published after their passing. In the case of these Inklings, this effort was spearheaded by Lewis’ secretary Walter Hooper and Tolkien’s son Christopher.
Waterstones, the British bookseller, goes so far as to say “J.R.R. Tolkien is arguably one of the most posthumously-published authors there has ever been. The Silmarillion was compiled from notes he left behind, likewise The Children of Hurin and, in 2014, Tolkien’s prose translation of Beowulf was released.”
It may be unlikely that you are I will have anything published after our life ends. But, the words we pen might one day prove a blessing to others in a future family memoir.
I encourage you to continue to write, whether publishers reinforce you or not. However small your audience may seem, virtually everyone recognizes there is value in expressing ourselves in this way.
And, may the cost of your literary labors be outweighed by the satisfaction you gain as its reward.
Star Trek Postscript
Yes, if you check out the publication site, you will see that my name is listed last among all of Theology and Star Trek’scontributors. Even if this isn’t a consequence of alphabetical considerations, I’m not bothered. My simple inclusion in the volume is sufficient . . . and we struggling writers must never forget the words of Matthew 20:16.
Last week I wrote about “Learning Languages,” and I promised to follow up with a related theme – the creation of new words and languages. Let’s consider the simple matter first.
Adding New Words
Anyone can make up a new word. The problem is whether we have enough influence to have it adopted and used by another human being. (I add this qualifier to eliminate those who might attempt to skirt the question by simply training parrots to mimic the new word.) As Scientific Americanrelates,
When parrots are kept as pets, they learn their calls from their adoptive human social partners. Part of their appeal as pets is their ability to sing lower notes than smaller birds and so better reproduce human voices.
So, while you may be able to trick one of your parrots into repeating a novel “word,” that doesn’t count for our purposes here.
Likewise, any other birds who mimic speech, including musk ducks and corvids (ravens, crows and their ilk). In fact, let’s exclude all nonhuman “speakers” from consideration. After all, AZ Animals introduces readers to seven specific animals of different species (only one of which is avian) whose “forebrain is . . . responsible for some animals’ ability to mimic speech.”
So, animals aside, who embraces and disseminates newly invented new words? Some words, of course, find a partially prepared or receptive audience because they are imported from other tongues. The global influence of English makes other languages especially vulnerable to its influence, which can be deeply resented. The “corruption” of mother tongues sometimes elicits reactionary responses – such as Italy’s current effort to purge English from the Italian Republic.
And some Italians are extremely serious about the task, proposing fines up to €100000. (That is not a typo; at today’s exchange rate it would be $109,857.50.) Their animus toward English follows the path established by the French, who frequently default to Napoléon’s order to refer to Britain as “perfidious Albion.” The Académie Française goes so far as to repudiate specific words, including business, cash, digital, vintage, label, and deadline.
Vocabulary adopted from other nation’s may be “new” to their most recent users, but such importation is certainly not the same as fabricating novel words from the proverbial “whole cloth.”
True Neologisms
I wrote a moment ago that creating words is easy, but persuading others to use them is quite another thing. I’ve discussed this subject in the past, in “Create a Word Today” and “Creative Definitions.” Sadly – and fittingly – none of my personal neologisms have caught on.
Popular creative writers may, however, find their fancies adopted by larger audiences. Shakespeare’s “bedazzled” was birthed in The Taming of the Shrew. The “chortle” was first heard in Lewis Carol’s “Jabberwocky.” “Pandemonium” was revealed as the capital of Hell in Milton’s Paradise Lost. And the first “Nerd” was encountered in Dr. Seuss’ If I Ran the Zoo.
Some neologists were particularly prolific. How about these few additional examples from the Bard:
Bandit ~ Henry VI Dauntless ~ Henry VI Lackluster ~ As You Like It Dwindle ~ Henry IV
Oh, and Grammarly adds, “Shakespeare must have loved the prefix un- because he created or gave new meaning to more than 300 words that begin with it.” Can you imagine a world without:
Unaware ~ Venus & Adonis Uncomfortable ~ Romeo & Juliet Undress ~ Taming of the Shrew Unearthly ~ The Winter’s Tale Unreal ~ Macbeth
Before moving on, it would be fair to note that some voices consider this achievement by Shakespeare to be “a common myth.”
It turns out that Shakespeare’s genius was not in coining new words – it was in hearing new words and writing them down before they became widespread, and in wringing new meaning out of old, worn-out words: turning “elbow” into a verb and “where” into a noun. He didn’t invent the words, but he knew how to use them better than anyone.
C.S. Lewis was not a philologist, but he did create a few novel words. The Inkling scholar who pens A Pilgrim in Narnia has written on this subject here and here.
J.R.R. Tolkien was no slouch at inventing English words himself. Some which now reside in our common vocabulary include hobbit and orc. The latter he derived from an Old English word, orcþyrs, a devouring monster associated with Hell. More surprisingly, Tolkien created the modern word “tween,” albeit in the context of hobbits, who lived longer lives than we.
At that time Frodo was still in his tweens, as the hobbits called the irresponsible twenties between childhood and coming of age at thirty-three.
Envisioning novel words is relatively simple, but inventing an entire language, is an infinitely more complex challenge. The universally acknowledged master is J.R.R. Tolkien, whose Elvish tongue has become a “living” language.* But he was not alone in building internally consistent linguistic systems. Albeit, no philologist came near to Tolkien’s expertise, which included elaborate etymologies.
Before considering Tolkien himself, we will note several other efforts of a similar kind. And, following a discussion of Tolkien, we will conclude with a note about his good friend, C.S. Lewis. For, despite the fact that Lewis was not a philologist himself, it is interesting to note that he too dabbled in creatio linguarum.
Inventing New Languages
Some “constructed languages” are formed with practical purposes. Esperanto, birthed in 1887, incorporated elements from existing languages and was envisioned as a common “international auxiliary language.” It boasts its own flag, and claims to be the native language of approximately a thousand people.
One curious use of Esperanto came in its adoption by the United States Army as the “Aggressor Language” used in twentieth century wargames. The curious can download a copy of the now-rescinded Field Manual 30-101-1, which provided guidance for its usage “which will enhance intelligence play and add realism to field exercises.”
Another genuine constructed language is Interlingua. Developed between 1937 and 1951, it is based primarily on the shared (and simplified) grammar and vocabulary of Western European languages.
In addition to languages constructed for international use, there are a variety of tongues created for fictional applications. “To learn Klingon or Esperanto” describes how linguistic anthropologist Christine Schreyer “invented several languages for the movie industry: the Kryptonian language for ‘Man of Steel,’ Eltarian for ‘Power Rangers,’ Beama (Cro-Magnon) for “Alpha” and Atlantean for ‘Zack Snyder’s Justice League.’” While none of these could ever rival the languages of Middle Earth, her bona fide linguistic credentials place her in a context similar to J.R.R. Tolkien. The interview reveals how Schreyer balances her creative impulses with her anthropological concerns.
I teach a course on linguistic anthropology, in which I give my students the task of creating new languages as they learn about the parts of languages. Around the time I started doing that, “Avatar” came out. The Na’vi language from that movie was very popular at the time and had made its way into many news stories about people learning the language – and doing it quickly.
My other academic research is on language revitalization, with indigenous or minority communities. One of the challenges we have is it takes people a long time to learn a language. I was interested to know what endangered-language communities could learn from these created-language fan communities, to learn languages faster.
Other fictional languages that exist include R’lyehian (from Lovecraft’s nightmare cosmos), Lapine (from Watership Down), Fremen, the Arabic/alien blending (from Dune), Parseltongue (ala Harry Potter), Dothraki (from Game of Thrones), Ewokese, etc. (from Star Wars), Goa’uld and others (from Stargate), Minbari and more (from Babylon 5), and the gutturally combative Klingon and others (from Star Trek). This brief list is far from exhaustive.
Tolkien, Lewis & New Languages
The languages forged by J.R.R. Tolkien are unrivaled by any conceivable measure one might employ. They are no mere stage dressing, like some of the aforementioned examples. Even those with developed vocabularies and consistent grammar fall far short of Tolkien’s creation. In terms of the histories of his languages, his diligent etymologies beggar all other such efforts. Of course, for Tolkien this was no competition. He was driven to make his languages as flawless – not “perfect,” but realistic – as humanly possible. It was a linchpin in his subcreative labor.
As a skilled calligrapher, Tolkien devised unique alphabets to complement his languages. The letters in his alphabets were not devised as mere adornments. Tolkien left that to lesser imaginations. Nor were his scripts restricted to Tolkien’s fiction. The Tolkien Estate offers an insightful essay on “Writing Systems.”
Tolkien also used invented scripts that were not associated with any of his fictional worlds. An early example is the Privata Kodo Skauta (Private Scout Code), which appears in a still unpublished notebook from 1909 called the Book of the Foxrook. This makes use of a phonetic code-alphabet, as well as a number of ideographic symbols representing full words. . . .
Toward the end of his life, Tolkien made use of the New English Alphabet, a phonetic script that combined the logical structural principles of the Angerthas and the Tengwar with letters that looked more like Greek or Latin. The alphabet has not yet been published in full, but examples can be seen in . . . J.R.R. Tolkien: Artist & Illustrator.
The footnote below links to some resources for those who would like to learn how to speak the languages of the elves. By way of help with pronunciations, remember the following advice:
Use an Italian accent to pull off Quenya speech patterns. In general, you can kind of sound Elvish – even without following the rules of the language – by applying an Italian accent when pronouncing Quenyan words. Native Italian speakers tend to use speech patterns from their native tongues to interpret English words, which can make your Elvish sound practiced even when it isn’t.
Speak with an Irish or Scottish accent to pull off a natural Sindarin accent. Irish and Scottish speakers tend to speak English by emphasizing sounds in the front of a word regardless of the standard pronunciation. This is a pretty good method for pronouncing Sindarin words, since the vast majority of them stress the first syllable.
For those who want to quickly capture some Elvish script without the effort of studying, consider the English to Elvish online translator, which is offered by the company that fashioned The One Ring for Peter Jackson’s cinematic epics. I decided to test the translation tool and posed the question: “Does AI translation of English to Quenya actually work?” The software swiftly complied.
It looks elegantly correct, but unfortunately, I’m unable to personally verify its accuracy. And I must confess to modest trepidation since the site advises:
“USE CAUTION BEFORE COMMITTING TO ANY TATTOOS, INSCRIPTIONS AND ENGRAVINGS” [triple emphasis in original].
The Jens Hansen site sells jewelry, as befits the fasioners of The One Ring. In addition to hosting the translator, they offer a free pdf document called Elvish 101 in 5 Minutes. It’s an interesting document, but it reveals a limitation I assume is shared by the online generator. It is a resource for transliterating, not translating, words. Not quite the same thing . . . but the script still looks elegant.
Tolkien was the master of creating languages for his subcreation, but C.S. Lewis also used the same technique in the writing of his Space Trilogy. Each work focuses on an individual planet in our solar system, which is referred to in the books as the Field of Arbol.
While a number of languages have developed over time, the original language, known as Old Solar, is retained by some, and learned by the series’ protagonist Dr. Elwin Ransom. Ransom is a philologist at Cambridge, and as he is modeled after Tolkien, it’s no surprise his first name means “elf friend.”
In Perelandra, Ransom describes how a language he learned on Mars was once shared by all.
“It appears we were quite mistaken in thinking Hressa-Hlab the peculiar speech of Mars. It is really what may be called Old Solar, Hlab-Eribol-ef-Cordi. . . . there was originally a common speech for all rational creatures inhabiting the planets of our system: those that were ever inhabited, I mean – what the eldila (angels) call the Low Worlds. . . .
That original speech was lost on Thulcandra, our own world, when our whole tragedy [the Fall] took place. No human language now known in the world is descended from it.”
Lewis’ use of Old Solar is sparing, but a partial lexicon can be found at FrathWiki. There, for example, you will learn that “honodraskrud” is Old Solar for a “Groundweed; an edible pinkish-white kind of weed, found all over the handramit” of Malacandra (Mars).
The accomplishments of Tolkien and Lewis are difficult to compare. These two brilliant scholars shared a great many interests, but wrote with far different goals. We rightfully expect genius to vary between such individuals. This is well illustrated by their differing treatments of constructed languages, as Martha Sammons describes so well in War of the Fantasy Worlds.
Tolkien began with invented languages and then developed an elaborate mythology to create a world where his languages could exist. Lewis’s works began with mental pictures; he would then find the appropriate ‘‘form’’ to tie together the images. . . .
[Tolkien’s] penchant for historical and linguistic detail is unparalleled. In contrast . . . Lewis uses just enough language, geography, and science to make his novels believable.
While either approach may inspire those among us who aspire to writing, we best avoid attempting to emulate either author. Best, I believe, to compose our epics with the language that most naturally flows from our pen.
* While some fans of Klingon and Na’vi may learn to speak in those tongues, the students of the languages of Arda, typically possess greater ardor for the languages of Middle Earth. For example, an online guide to learning Elven languages begins by answering the question, “why study Elvish?” And a free online course for learning Quenya is offered here. Among the Quenya dictionaries, the finest free example is available at Quenya-English Dictionary English-Quenya Dictionary.
C.S. Lewis possessed a gift for languages. Although he was not a philologist like his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, Lewis was well educated and read and spoke a variety of languages.
In fact, when he and his wife played Scrabble, they allowed for the use of words from any language! For the record, though, he does confess to a German professor that his grasp of that tongue is “wretched.”
The only bona fide genius I’ve known was a classmate at the University of Washington. While I was struggling with classical Greek, in preparation for seminary, at the age of 23 Bruce already possessed four master’s degrees and was closing in on his PhD in Linguistics. He spoke fifteen languages, but could read nineteen.
Of course, that is still a small portion of the 7,168 languages Ethnologue tells us are in use today.
This enormous number – which doesn’t include unknown languages spoken among untouched people groups – accounts for the fact that thousands of Christians are laboring now in groups such as Lutheran Bible Translators to make the Scriptures available to all people.
Sometimes this involves creating a written language itself, where only an oral version exists. The largest such organization, Wycliffe Global Alliance, reports that “Bible translation is currently happening in 2,846 languages in 157 countries.”
While the Bible’s translation is certainly of utmost importance, it is wonderful to know that other valuable literature is also made available to readers who could not decipher the language in which it was originally composed.
Lewis, in fact, was a translator in his own right. Beyond the literal translation of works from one tongue to another, Lewis also functioned as a “translator” of complex concepts and eternal truths. I once described this as C.S. Lewis’ bilingualism.
How many extremely intelligent and well educated people do you know . . . who can actually communicate with those of us possessing normal human intelligence? That talent is a rarity.
And it is precisely what makes C.S. Lewis such an unusual man. He was brilliant. Yet he could communicate with the common person – even the child – just as easily as he conversed with his fellow university dons.
C.S. Lewis mastered a number of modern languages, but it was his study of historic languages that especially inspired him. Icelandic, with its similarity to Old Norse, is one example about which I have written.
. . . J.R.R. Tolkien and his friend C.S. Lewis established a group called Kolbitár which was devoted to reading Icelandic and Norse sagas. The word itself means “coal biter” and refers to those in a harsh environment drawing so close to the fire’s warmth they can almost bite the coals.
Another example is Old English. Along with Middle English, birthed by the Norman Conquest, these were essential elements of his training as one of the preeminent English scholars of Oxford and Cambridge. And these languages were not merely dusty relics. I encourage the curious to read “C.S. Lewis’s Unpublished Letter in Old English,” which appeared in the journal VII.
In 1926 C.S. Lewis wrote his friend Nevill Coghill a letter in Old English, a language also known as Anglo-Saxon. Unreadable for most current readers of Lewis, it understandably does not appear in his three-volume Collected Letters.
In the essay, George Musacchio provides an illuminating outline of Lewis’ diverse expertise with languages, both “foreign and domestic.” Lewis began the letter to his friend with the following salutation.
“Leowis ceorl hateð gretan Coghill eoorl luflice ond freondlice.” Which translates as: “Lewis the churl bids to greet Coghill the earl.”
Is English Really that Difficult to Learn?
English is reputed to be one of the most challenging languages to learn. (More on this in a moment.) For example, the simple sentence which follows consists of a mere seven words, but holds seven different meanings, dependent upon which word is emphasized.
Rosetta Stone answers the question of how hard it is to learn English by saying “it depends on your first language.”
In addition to the fact that “spelling is a poor indicator of pronunciation,” English possesses numerous “specific rules,” and complements this burden with the fact that “some rules have lots of exceptions.” The complexity is due to the language’s history, which also gave rise to its mammoth vocabulary.
English has a lot of words—Webster’s English Dictionary includes approximately 470,000 entries, and it’s estimated that the broader English vocabulary may include around a million words. . . .
English has such a broad vocabulary because it’s a blend of several different root languages. While English is a West Germanic language in its sounds and grammar, much of the vocabulary also stems from Romance languages, such as Latin, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese.
One result of combining these various root languages is that the English vocabulary includes a ton of synonyms . . . And unfortunately, most of these synonyms aren’t fully interchangeable, so the exact word you choose does have an impact on the overall meaning.
It turns out English doesn’t even rank in the top three most difficult languages for the speakers of the five largest language groups. The ranked listings do include, however, Arabic, Japanese, Russian, and Mandarin.
So, let’s reverse the question for a moment. Which languages are the most difficult for a native English speaker to learn? Unbabel lists ten. Fortunately, only one of them is on my wish list.
Babbel Magazine has an article approaching that question from the opposite end. Which language is easiest for English speakers to learn.
This may come as a surprise, but we have ranked Norwegian as the easiest language to learn for English speakers. Norwegian is a member of the Germanic family of languages — just like English! This means the languages share quite a bit of vocabulary, such as the seasons vinter and sommer (we’ll let you figure out those translations).
Another selling point for Norwegian: the grammar is pretty straightforward, with only one form of each verb per tense. And the word order closely mimics English. For example, “Can you help me?” translates to Kan du hjelpe meg? — the words are in the same order in both languages, so mastering sentence structure is a breeze!
Finally, you’ll have a lot more leeway with pronunciation when learning Norwegian. That’s because there are a vast array of different accents in Norway and, therefore, more than one “correct way” to pronounce words.
An article I wrote seven years ago hints at that same conclusion. I made this informative, and mildly threatening, illustration for “Norse Linguistic Invasion.”
Oxford Royale Academy lists several reasons why English is especially challenging to new students. The following issue of “irregularities” also plagues countless native speakers.
One of the hardest things about English is that although there are rules, there are lots of exceptions to those rules – so just when you think you’ve got to [come to] grips with a rule, something comes along to shatter what you thought you knew by contradicting it.
A good example is the rule for remembering whether a word is spelt “ie” or “ei:” “I before E except after C.” Thus “believe” and “receipt.”
But this is English – it’s not as simple as that. What about “science?” Or “weird?” Or “seize?”
There are loads of irregular verbs, too, such as “fought”, which is the past tense of “fight”, while the past tense of “light” is “lit.” So learning English isn’t just a question of learning the rules – it’s about learning the many exceptions to the rules.
The numerous exceptions make it difficult to apply existing knowledge and use the same principle with a new word, so it’s harder to make quick progress.
And even some of the normative “rules” are difficult to grasp. One example is that there’s a very specific order that adjectives must be listed ahead of a noun. According to Rosetta Stone,
The adjective order is: quantity, opinion, size, age, shape, color, origin/material, qualifier, and then noun. For example, “I love my big old yellow dog.” Saying these adjectives in any other order, like “I love my yellow old big dog,” will sound wrong, even when otherwise the sentences are exactly the same and communicate the same thing. Keeping rules like this in mind can be tricky, and it takes a lot of practice to get it right.
Adjective order is seldom considered, in part because it’s not considered good writing to string too many such words together. But apparently there are right and wrong ways to organize any such list.
Royal Order of Adjectives
Most students aren’t taught about adjective order in school and instead learn it through listening and reading. In English, the rules regarding adjective order are more specific than they are in other languages; that is why saying adjectives in a specific order sounds “right,” and deviating from that order makes a statement sound “wrong,” even if it’s otherwise grammatically perfect.
And, since we’re talking about English, even this Royal Order of Adjectives rule has exceptions!
The hierarchy is not absolute, and there is some wiggle room among the “fact” categories – size, age, and so on – in the middle.
Native speakers are often delighted when they learn about this law and discover how flawlessly they apply it. It even went viral in 2016 . . . The tweet attached a paragraph by etymologist Mark Forsyth . . . giving an example that uses all the categories according to the OSASCOMP hierarchy: “a lovely little old rectangular green French silver whittling knife.”
I do not ever recall being taught (or reading on my own) about the “Royal Order of Adjectives.” Nevertheless, I don’t feel too embarrassed at acknowledging my previous ignorance, since even Lewis himself was comfortable in expressing gratitude for being introduced to new words. For example, when he thanked Dorothy Sayers for enlarging his vocabulary with her work on Dante.
So, is English all that challenging? Well, C.S. Lewis did his part to make it less daunting, joining a public debate in Britain, with an unexpected argument. Discussing English’s previously noted problem with inconsistencies and confusion in spelling, the don offered a simple solution.
In a column on Lewis and the history of words, I included an extended passage from a letter Lewis wrote challenging a contemporary British effort to “reform” spelling. Surprisingly, he argued against the necessity for uniformity in spelling. After explaining why our language functions as it does, he advocates:
As things are, surely Liberty is the simple and inexpensive ‘Reform’ we need? This would save children and teachers thousands of hours’ work.
Surely all but the most diehard grammarians would be sympathetic to his argument.
Next week I plan to write about another linguistic matter closely associated with the Inklings – the creation of new words and languages.
If books should not be judged by their covers, how much more true is it that we should avoid judging people by their initial appearance?
We don’t want others to be hasty in determining who we are, right? We need to take some time to get to know people before coming to “conclusions” about what they are like.
Yet we still tend to look at someone and – right away – assess whether they are trustworthy or not. I confess it is sometimes challenging for me to maintain an open mind. For example, teardrop tattoos (especially when accompanied by neck ink that combines letters and numbers), make me nervous.
First impressions are usually by their very nature superficial. Which means they often prove to be wrong. That’s true about people . . . and books.
Lewis scholar Dale Nelson recently sent me an interesting review of the book The Inklings, written by Humphrey Carpenter in 1978. The fascinating thing about the piece was that it was written by Lord David Cecil (1902-1986), who was himself an Inkling.
One of the things which drew my attention was his physical description of several of the members, especially C.S. Lewis. Without citing the maxim, he declares how misleading first impressions may be.
[Charles] Williams was the most obviously odd. Very tall, and indisputably ugly with a high forehead and with gleaming spectacles, he yet diffused a curious charm that came from an enthusiastic warmth of spirit united to a comic lack of inhibition. . . .
Lewis at first sight appeared less unusual; stocky, red-faced, loud-voiced, he might indeed have been taken for an innkeeper or even a butcher.
Such a mistake would not have displeased him, he liked to think of himself as representing the common man, in contrast to the sophisticated intellectual.
These observations were interesting, but there was something far more thought-provoking in the (excellent, by the way) review. More about that in a moment. First let’s return for a moment to the issue of book covers.
What about the Cover of the Book You are Writing?
I discussed covers, and Lewis’ thoughts thereon, in this post.
It’s unsurprising that with all of their many reprintings, the writings of C.S. Lewis have been published with a wide range of covers. Some of this can be attributed to the artistic fads of the decade in which particular editions saw print. More important, I believe, are the arbitrary tastes of publishers.
When it comes to self-publishing, authors are in complete control over the image that graces their literary creations. While I make no pretense of being an artist, I must confess at being shocked by the shoddy quality of many such works. Surely they are aware that the very best of writing can be marred by dreadful packaging. By the same token, even weak literature has received wider dissemination than it merited, due to stunning or alluring graphics.
The internet is filled with posts on this subject. These are representative:
The reality is that every person who steps into a book shop or browses books online is judging books by their cover, even if only subconsciously. I’m not saying that the judgment is always correct. Some books have amazing covers but are comprised of some pretty bad writing. I’d guess that many more amazing books are hiding behind bad cover art. The challenge is to get readers to pick up your book in the first place. That’s where the artwork comes in.
Another writer contends that potential readers do consider a host of matters. In “Why ‘Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover’ is Bad Advice,” the writer nevertheless admits it is the single most important element in winning an audience (short of a celebrity endorsement).
Readers are going to keep on reading and judging based on a whole host of criteria. The cover is just one of the many factors that are taken into account. Like other aspects of a book, it holds valuable information about the story kept inside.
Disregarding it is bad advice. Instead, why not try judging a book by its cover? Maybe next time you peruse the shelves of your neighborhood bookstore or scroll through the numerous titles listed online, you can select books purely based on the cover.
You never know, that could tell you everything you need to give that book a chance.
Covers are not the only factor in enhancing your book’s reception. Consider as well the nature of the paper in printed copies, as I discussed in “The Ugliest Book,” about a Mayan codex.
Now, back to the book reviewer.
David Cecil’s Thoughts on His Own Identity as an Inkling
After graduating from Oxford, Cecil briefly taught Rhetoric in London, before returning to Oxford, where he taught English. During his career, he wrote various works, including a number of literary biographies. These include: The Stricken Deer or The Life of Cowper, English Poets, Hardy the Novelist.
David Cecil was an accomplished man, and a true Oxford Inkling. The curious aspect is how, as the son of a marquess (bearing a courtesy title), socializing with a different caste, so to speak, would bond so well with the rest of the Inklings. Fortunately, Cecil briefly explains why he valued the fellowship in this book review.
Usually one of them would read aloud a piece from some book he was writing. . . . The meetings were also occasionally attended by persons who did not share The Inklings’ distinctive point of view but who liked spending an evening in their company.
I myself was one of these; I found such evenings enjoyable and stimulating; and all the more because the spirit of The Inklings was in piquant contrast to those of the Oxford circles in which I spent most of my time.
A final gift to those who treasure Lewis and his companions comes in Cecil’s incisive understanding of their unifying bond.
The qualities . . . that gave The Inklings their distinctive personality were not primarily their opinion; rather it was a feeling for literature, which united, in an unusual way, scholarship and imagination.
Their standard of learning was very high. To study a book in translation or without a proper knowledge of its historic background would have been to them unthinkable; they were academic in the best sense of the word.
But – and this is what made them different from most academics – they also read imaginatively. The great books of the past were to them living in the same way as the work of a contemporary. . . .
Simply they read their books in the spirit in which they were written. And they could communicate their sense of this spirit to their hearers so that, for these also, these great books sprang to fresh, full life.
This was a unique achievement in the Oxford of their time.
It appears the Inklings would be among the last to judge a book, or a person, by their cover.
Mere Inkling Press 