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The Art of Language Invention: From Horse-Lords to Dark Elves to Sand Worms, the Words Behind World-Building Kindle Edition
An insider’s tour through the construction of invented languages from the bestselling author and creator of languages for Legendary's Dune, the HBO series Game of Thrones and the Syfy series Defiance
From master language creator David J. Peterson comes a creative guide to language construction for sci-fi and fantasy fans, writers, game creators, and language lovers. Peterson offers a captivating overview of language creation, covering its history from Tolkien’s creations and Klingon to today’s thriving global community of conlangers. He provides the essential tools necessary for inventing and evolving new languages, using examples from a variety of languages including his own creations, punctuated with references to everything from Star Wars to Janelle Monáe. Along the way, behind-the-scenes stories lift the curtain on how he built languages like Dothraki for HBO’s Game of Thrones and Shiväisith for Marvel’s Thor: The Dark World, and an included phrasebook will start fans speaking Peterson’s constructed languages. The Art of Language Invention is an inside look at a fascinating culture and an engaging entry into a flourishing art form—and it might be the most fun you’ll ever have with linguistics.
The Art of Language Invention includes a new chapter on phrases, specifically, word order, negation, question formation, pragmatic concerns, relativization, and subordination, providing a complete introduction to language creation and linguistics. Invented languages featured in the book now include Chakobsa from Legendary’s Dune, Trigedasleng (or Grounder) from The 100, Méníshè language from Motherland: Fort Salem and Ravkan from the Netflix series Shadow and Bone.
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherPenguin Books
- Publication dateSeptember 29, 2015
- Reading age18 years and up
- File size38016 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
—David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, co-creators of HBO's Game of Thrones
“George R. R. Martin created Khal Drogo, and David Benioff and Dan Weiss believed in me, but David Peterson gave me life.”
—Jason Momoa
“David J. Peterson’s The Art of Language Invention accomplishes a minor miracle in taking a potentially arcane discipline and infusing it with life, humor and passion. It makes a compelling and entertaining case for language creation as visual and aural poetry. I cherish words, I love books about words and for me this is the best book about language since Stephen Fry’s The Ode Less Traveled. And, best of all, there’s a phrasebook!”
—Kevin Murphy, co-creator and showrunner of Syfy’s Defiance
“If you want to know how someone makes up a language from the ground up, you'll find out how in this book—and the glory of it is that along the way you'll get the handiest introduction now in existence to what linguistics is. In fact, read this even if you DON'T feel like making up a language!”
—John McWhorter, author of The Language Hoax
“Accessible, entertaining, and thorough, Peterson has created an invaluable resource for authors, dedicated fans, and casual enthusiasts. This is the book I wish I'd had when I started writing.”
—Leigh Bardugo, New York Times bestselling author of Shadow and Bone
“This book not only lucidly ushers language invention into its own as an art form, it's also an excellent introduction to linguistics.”
—Arika Okrent, author of In the Land of Invented Languages
"Mr. Peterson illuminates the ins and outs of being a professional developer of “constructed languages”...Language invention requires not only technical know-how but also playfulness and a degree of historical savvy.”
—The Wall Street Journal
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
When I was a kid, the original Star Wars trilogy had just completed its initial run in theaters, and Star Wars was everywhere. I had a toy sand skimmer (which I broke), a toy TIE fighter (which I also broke), and a read-along Return of the Jedi picture book with accompanying record which would play the sound of a ship’s blaster when you were supposed to turn the page. (If you’re too young to be familiar with record players as anything other than “vinyl,” type “Pac-Man record read along” into YouTube to familiarize yourself with the concept. That was my childhood.)
In short, aside from He-Man, Star Wars was pretty much the thing if you were a child of four in 1985. At that age, when I watched movies, I didn’t really pay careful attention to the dialogue, and wasn’t able to follow stories that well. Consequently when the Star Wars trilogy was rereleased in 1995, I rewatched it eagerly. Once I got to Return of the Jedi, I was struck by what I thought was a particularly bizarre scene. In the beginning of the movie, Princess Leia, disguised as a bounty hunter, infiltrates Jabba the Hutt’s palace in order to rescue Han Solo. She pretends to have captured Chewbacca, and engages Jabba to negotiate a price for handing him over. In doing so, Leia pretends to speak (or evidently does speak, via some sort of voice modification device) a language Jabba doesn’t. He employs the recently acquired C-3PO as an intermediary. As near as I can tell, this is how the exchange goes (transcription is my own; accent marks indicate where the main stress is):
LEIA: Yaté. Yaté. Yotó. (SUBTITLE: “I have come for the bounty on this Wookiee.”)
C-3PO relays this message and Jabba says he’ll offer 25,000 for Chewie.
LEIA: Yotó. Yotó. (SUBTITLE: “50,000, no less.”)
C-3PO relays this message and Jabba asks why he should pay so much.
LEIA: Eí yóto.
The above isn’t subtitled, but Leia pulls out a bomb and activates it.
C-3PO: Because he’s holding a thermal detonator!
Jabba is impressed by this and offers 35,000.
LEIA: Yató cha.
The above isn’t subtitled, but Leia deactivates the bomb and puts it away.
C-3PO: He agrees.
Order is restored.
I want you to remember that I was in seventh or eighth grade at the time that I was rewatching this. I was not a “language” guy at that point by any stretch of the imagination. I never dreamed that a human could invent a language, and even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have been able to come up with a good reason for one to do so. Furthermore, up to that point, I’d never studied a second language, and the prospect filled me with dread (I had enough trouble understanding my Spanish-speaking relatives who always spoke too fast for me).
But even so, I knew something was wrong here. How on earth does Leia say the same thing twice and have it mean something different the second time? Even if we take C-3PO for an unreliable translator (he is quite loquacious, after all), that applies only to the last two phrases. How could one expect to have an unreliable subtitle? Subtitles are supposed to lie outside the world of the film. If you can’t rely on a subtitle provided by the film’s creators, how can you rely on anything?
In trying to resolve this conflict, it occurred to me that the only plausible explanation for this aberrant phenomenon is that the language itself was correct, but worked differently from all other human languages. In our languages (take English, for example), a word’s meaning can be affected by the context it’s in, but if you control for context, the word will always mean the same thing. Thus, if you’re telling a story about your dog, and you use the word “dog” several times throughout the story, it will still refer to a fur-covered animal that barks and covets nothing so highly as table scraps. This is fairly standard and uncontroversial.
What would happen if a language didn’t do that, though?
Take, for example, the word I have transcribed as yotó above. What if it changed its meaning over the duration of a discourse? Naturally, one would have to define a discourse, but I think it’s fair to consider this conversation featuring Leia, Jabba, and C-3PO a single discourse, so we can leave that concern aside for the moment. What if the word yotó has several definitions? Specifically, what if the first time it’s used in a conversation it means “this wookiee”; the second time it’s used it means “50,000”; and the third time it’s used it means “no less” (or the rough equivalent of those)? The same, then, applies for all other words in the language. That would resolve the ambiguity. How could one possibly use such a language? Well, they are all aliens (Star Wars, recall, takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away). Maybe they’re just better at this stuff than humans. Why not?
This was where my brain went while rewatching Return of the Jedi for the first time. At some future date I may have shared this with a friend, but if I did, the response was likely an eyeroll. This quirk was just an unimportant detail in an otherwise fantastic movie. Why bother about it?
And so that’s pretty much where my thought experiment died. I didn’t take it any further, and no one was really interested, so I didn’t think about it again until college.
But that, of course, was a different era—a pre-internet era. Who does a teenager have to share news with other than their family, friends, and teachers? Who do they come in contact with? In 1995, that’s pretty much only the people who live near you and with whom you interact on a daily basis. How would you ever get ahold of anyone else? How would I have known that someone in the Bay Area, let’s say—less than five hundred miles away—had the same idea I’d had and also found that exchange interesting? In 1995, there was no way.
Then the internet happened.
Yes, the internet had been around for a while in 1995, but it wasn’t a thing that just anyone could have access to. America Online changed all that. Pretty soon it became a thing to race home from school and go into a chatroom with a bunch of random people to talk about . . . nothing. And that was how we entertained ourselves—for hours. What a world, where you could chat with someone who lived in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, about how Soundgarden rules!
As it turns out, though, I wasn’t the only person to pick up on this. Another conlanger I’d later meet at the First Language Creation Conference, Matt Haupt, asked exactly the same question, and devoted a blog post to deconstructing that scene specifically. And we weren’t the only ones. The Ubese language has its own entry on the Wookieepedia (yes, that’s a thing) where contributors have written up an entire backstory for the language that is, first of all, not a full language, and, ultimately, poorly constructed and not worthy of serious consideration.
So let me bring back David Benioff and Dan Weiss’s question to me on the night of the Game of Thrones premiere. If the actors speaking Dothraki or High Valyrian or Castithan or whatever make a mistake, who would know but the creator? Who would care? The truth is probably one in a thousand people will notice, and of those who do, maybe a quarter will care. In the 1980s that amounts to nothing. In the new millennium, though, one quarter of 0.001 percent can constitute a significant minority on Twitter. Or on Tumblr. Or Facebook. Or Reddit. Or on whatever other social media service is currently taking the internet by storm. To take a recent (at the time of writing) example, there was Frozen fan fiction and fan art circulating the internet before the movie had even premiered—and when it did premiere, it took a matter of hours for everyone to learn that Kristoff’s boots weren’t properly fastened, and that this was a big deal as it was disrespectful to the Sami people and their culture.
One of the most significant things about our new interconnected world is that the internet can amplify a minority voice exponentially. Yes, few people, comparatively speaking, will care if an actor makes a mistake with their conlang lines. But thanks to the internet, those few people will find each other, and when they do, they’ll be capable of making a big noise. Every single aspect of every single production on the big and small screen is analyzed and reanalyzed the world over—and in real time. Every level of every production is being held to a higher standard, and audiences are growing savvier by the day. Language—created or otherwise—is no exception. In order to meet the heightened expectations of audiences everywhere, we have to raise the bar for languages created for any purpose. After all, if we don’t, we’ll hear about it.
Product details
- ASIN : B00TY3ZMVG
- Publisher : Penguin Books (September 29, 2015)
- Publication date : September 29, 2015
- Language : English
- File size : 38016 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Not Enabled
- Word Wise : Not Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 336 pages
- Best Sellers Rank: #409,930 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
David J. Peterson is a conlanger (i.e. language creator), writer and artist. He's worked as a language consultant and conlanger on shows such as HBO's Game of Thrones, NBC's Emerald City, and the CW's The 100, as well as movies like Marvel's Doctor Strange. He's the author of Living Language Dothraki (2014) and The Art of Language Invention (2015).
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Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
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The Art of Language Invention: From Horse-Lords to Dark Elves, the Words Behind World-Building by David J. Peterson is a piñata of a book. You have to take a good whack at it. And if you do - if you get through the shell - you will be rewarded with all kinds of delicious tidbits.
The way words evolve. Why do does ‘pneumonia’ start with a ‘p’? The secret origin of my archenemy The Homophone. Peterson answers all kinds of questions I had never thought to ask, but I’m considerably better off for having answered. The book is also funny. I love his running onion gag.
Linguistics is not an easy and there is no trick to make it easy. The way we manipulate words is complicated, inconsistent and sometimes infuriating. Taking a look at language from the perspective of a someone who wants to construct one makes trudging through the complexity more of project than a chore.
Oh, yes. I've doing research for a new book. On language. And this bit of work made my work way easier. I love that even more than onion gags.
Back when I was a kid, one of my favorite books was Dougal Dixon’s After Man: a Zoology of the Future. As an exercise in speculative biology, the book is responsible for maybe 90% of my enthusiasm about evolution, anatomy, and animal behavior. The fact that I know anything about those subjects at all is because I was enthusiastic for them, which puts Dixon to blame for most of what I know about the natural world. When I read The Art of Language Invention, the same thing happened with linguistics.
You can’t create a good made-up language without knowing about real languages. Through the lens of his invented languages and his experience using them, Peterson educates the reader about the forces that shape the way we speak—a practical gift wrapped in shiny packaging. Like all good speculation, The Art of Language Invention educates and inspires as much as it entertains.
And it IS entertaining, if for no other reason than the cat and onion jokes.
Go read it. I expect to see your new language on my desk by Monday.
As so much of the book relies on the *sounds* of language, I highly recommend the audiobook. I read the paperback while listening to the audio, and look forward to revisiting both versions as resources as I set about creating my own language(s).
Top reviews from other countries
Dieses Buch ist einerseits ein Bericht seiner Entwicklung als Spacherfinder, mit Erfahrungen in der Zusammenarbeit mit anderen Conlangern, mit Fernsehproduzenten und Fans.
Daneben leitet er die Leserin, die schon etwas Vorerfahrung haben sollte, an, wie sie selbst beim Erfinden einer Sprache vorgehen könnte, und was sie alles bedenken könnte, wie Laute, Wörter, Sprachentwicklung und Schriftsysteme. Ich habe einiges Neues über Sprachen gelernt, was ich so noch in keinem Linguistik-Kurs gehört hatte. Er ergänzt seine Ausführungen durch viele Beispiele aus den von ihm erfundenen Sprachen Shiväisith, Castithan, Irathient, Indojisnen, Kamakawi und Vaeyne Zaanics.
Für Leute, die dem Hobby Conlanging frönen, sehr zu empfehlen.
Das Englisch in diesem Buch ist eher für Fortgeschrittene.