Edward Sapir (d. 1939) is associated with the hypothesis that a source area for a language holds the most dialects. Thus, the British Isles have more dialects of English than the United States. Of course, languages are evolving entities, so American English has had some influence on modern British English.
Like areas with derived languages, a simpler version of YOU exists out there among those you have met. The complex YOU lies in the place of the original, speaking in multiple tongues, or, at the very least, in multiple versions of your own special and personal language. You have, however, exerted an influence and left a mark on others, those who have emigrated from your thoughts to versions of their own.
Thus, you carry simpler forms embedded in your personality. You could have, had you been intensely interested, tried to get every story with its multiple nuances out of those who reared you. They lived complex lives, too, though you might have seen them in their simplest form—the form that you adopted. So, given a chance to speak your “native tongue” in the manner of a person living in the source region, say someplace like England, you imitate the stereotype, either of high society (“I doo saaay…”) or a version of one well known dialect like Cockney (“Oy put the ‘ammer in thee ‘ouse”). If Sapir’s hypothesis is correct, you would do the same regardless of the country of the language’s origin.
You probably did not ask for detailed stories from Grandma; maybe you got some glimpses into her background by overhearing her conversation with Gramps. Still, you are, with regard to who they were a “single dialect,” just as your offspring, regardless of your attempts to give them the full spectrum of your life’s language, will become a “single dialect.” And so on.
Of course, we lose something of tradition. We can’t relive the lives of others when those lives occurred in both another time and another place. You might, however, want to consider passing along a little of your “language” to those whom you rear and those whom you meet. It will be your way of adding complexity to the future of those who emigrate from your mind.
Like areas with derived languages, a simpler version of YOU exists out there among those you have met. The complex YOU lies in the place of the original, speaking in multiple tongues, or, at the very least, in multiple versions of your own special and personal language. You have, however, exerted an influence and left a mark on others, those who have emigrated from your thoughts to versions of their own.
Thus, you carry simpler forms embedded in your personality. You could have, had you been intensely interested, tried to get every story with its multiple nuances out of those who reared you. They lived complex lives, too, though you might have seen them in their simplest form—the form that you adopted. So, given a chance to speak your “native tongue” in the manner of a person living in the source region, say someplace like England, you imitate the stereotype, either of high society (“I doo saaay…”) or a version of one well known dialect like Cockney (“Oy put the ‘ammer in thee ‘ouse”). If Sapir’s hypothesis is correct, you would do the same regardless of the country of the language’s origin.
You probably did not ask for detailed stories from Grandma; maybe you got some glimpses into her background by overhearing her conversation with Gramps. Still, you are, with regard to who they were a “single dialect,” just as your offspring, regardless of your attempts to give them the full spectrum of your life’s language, will become a “single dialect.” And so on.
Of course, we lose something of tradition. We can’t relive the lives of others when those lives occurred in both another time and another place. You might, however, want to consider passing along a little of your “language” to those whom you rear and those whom you meet. It will be your way of adding complexity to the future of those who emigrate from your mind.
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