Via Facilis

A ragingly successful approach in the teaching of Latin these days is interconnected readings (code name: ICR). Interconnected readings are episodes of a story that runs through the entire series of a particular Latin course. There is no doubt that ICRs are effective. Kids like them. They remember the information better, and underscore the critical role context plays in learning. They remember the cast and their characteristics.

A criticism some (publishers, adherents to other Latin introductory texts such as Ecce Romani and the Cambridge Latin Course) have had with Via Facilis is that it doesn't have ICRs. Actually, it does, beginning in Chapter 8. It is based upon the Aeneid, and stars (wonder of wonders) Aeneas, Juno, and the Fury Allecto. The goddess Venus, King Latinus, Lavinia, Amata, and Turnus also make their appearances. ("How could the critics have missed that?" Answer: They didn't. They couldn't be bothered to read that far.)

Could I have begun the ICRs in Chapter 1?
Sure.
Why didn't I?

Here's why.

In a previous entry on this blog (A New Word Order?), I explained how meaning in an English sentence is primarily established by word order. The endings of the words provide ancillary information. Latin, meanwhile, establishes meaning in roughly the reverse way: word endings provide the building blocks for syntactical understanding, word order fills in any missing information.

This difference between the languages is so critical and yet so elusive for the speaker of English that students need the opportunity to work just with the language and its myriad permutations both of noun and verb until they are relatively comfortable with the concept and role of inflection.

How to achieve this?
Sometimes, less is more.

The students will grasp the concepts of noun declension and verb conjugation a lot easier when they have less to worry about. This argues initially against connected readings. The key at this stage of a student's learning is for him or her to master the theory and syntactical import of word endings. Short pieces, connected or not, are critical. The emphasis is on form, not substance.

Because of the prerequisite of mastering morphology, students' vocabulary in the first two months of Latin is limited to a particular declension and two conjugations of verbs at most. First declension nouns and the present indicative active of first and second conjugation verbs are not enough to make a story compelling for a student. Yes, they would be reading a story. The question, however, is What Kind?
Something of the "See Spot Run" variety?
How much do the students learn from reading such a story?
Does such a story in any real way help them to learn more critically?
Does it do justice in any way, shape, or form to the type of reading and thinking students are preparing ultimately to engage in?

Would suffering through the canned version of a symphony by Rachmaninov on an elevator better prepare a listener to hear the same piece performed by the New York Philharmonic?

I want my students to be reading real Latin sooner, not later. Real Latin is not stuff that I write, much as it may amuse me to do so. It's that of Cicero, Livy, Caesar, Pliny, Seneca, Ovid, Vergil, Statius, Lucan, et alii. Do I want my students to understand the complexity of Latin? Yes.
And to do that well, they have to have a critical eye concerning their own language, English. Language and how to read it: those are my chief concerns.

Are students capable of hard, gruelling work?
Absolutely.

But they need to be in the right linguistic mindframe, else the learning process becomes a blueprint for failure.

In the post just prior to this one ("Just When Should Those Readings Become Connected?"), I wrote about the timing of Interconnected Readings.
When to introduce them?
My take: two or three months into a Latin course.
Not from day one?
No.
Why?
Students know little or nothing about their own language, let alone Latin.
They need to stretch out those muscles, take a few short runs, limber up.
You must train for a marathon before you run it.
And that marathon will not be on flat ground.

But doesn't everybody like a story?
Yes.
A good one.
Students have little patience for unchallenging stories, or ones that talk down to them.
I have my own difficulties with courses that emphasize the acquisition of historical, cultural, and societal informational tid-bits at the expense of the real learning of real Latin. The implicit (though - hopefully - unintended) message: mastering Latin in specific and language in general is not a primary concern.

Oh, to shoot myself in the foot before I learn to walk.
I'm not against honey on the rim of the cup - provided that the medicine within is the real deal.

What then should be the precursor to Interconnected Readings?

Sentences designed to highlight and drill syntax, morphology, and vocabulary.

What about those sentences?
Do they have to be pristine models of both grammar and logic?
Should they always make perfect sense?
Why?

It's a good thing to remember that sentences can be grammatically correct and still be sensically warped. Take, for instance, the expression "Give me a break." You could grammatically rewrite it as "Give a break to me." But it doesn't have the same punch.

How about the following?
"The computer was so overloaded, it went haywire."
"I was so overwhelmed, I went haywire."

Both sentences are grammatical. The second is odd. Why? Because "haywire" is generally used of machines, not people.

Now look at the following:

You can close a door.
You can slam a door.
You can close a case.
You can't slam a case.
You can speak of an open and shut case.
Although a door opens and shuts, you would not speak of an open and shut door.

A man reaching for his dress jacket exclaimed,
"Oh, no! The left pocket is ripped!"
"You're putting me on," replied the jacket.

I hit the pavement.
It hit me back.
I hit the pavement running.
I hit the running pavement.
Running, I hit the pavement.
Then I hit the deck.
It was not a happy camper.

An Invaluable Lesson:
Never underestimate the power of the Absurd.

The Absurd in a sentence presents students with three options: 1. they can dismiss the sentence because it is meaningless; 2. they can manufacture a context wherein the sentence in fact does make sense, thus making the meaningless meaningful; 3. they can accept the sentence on its own terms. It is a sign of real linguistic understanding if students can move beyond option #1 to #2 and then on to #3. The progression shows that they recognize that a sentence can simultaneously be grammatical and absurd.

The point?
In translating unconnected or limitedly connected sentences, students build, flex, and strengthen their understanding of both Latin and English. A sentence from the realm of the Absurd fortifies their linguistic suppleness. Then when the real story comes along, they will be ready.
And the language of the story need not be sacrificed on the altar of culture.

Tomorrow - The Roman Empire Strikes Back.

In my last post, I wrote of the Absurd - how it powers sentences to make the mastery of Latin (in specific), and the understanding of language (in general), readily accessible. Students tend to progress to the point where they either accept the sentence on its own terms, or provide a context wherein the sentence has meaning for them. Or both.

This is a story about how some of my students opted for the latter path.

When I was in high school, that brilliant, technologically revolutionary masterpiece Star Wars came out, with its (no longer) cryptic moniker, "Episode IV - A New Hope". My friends and I learned the meaning of true devotion. We would wait on line - a line that went all the way down and around the block - to see that movie.

Not once.
Not twice.

I saw it twelve times.

My cousin (friend and fellow SW devotee) and I would write each other often (by snail-mail, the only type then available, unless you wanted FedEx) from our respective boarding schools. In those letters, a couple of lines addressed how life away from home was going; the rest was devoted to lines from Star Wars.

The letters would go on for pages.

Flash forward thirty or so years. In the interim, Episodes V and VI came out, followed by Episodes I, II, and III (these last regarded by SW purists to be uncanonical).

Yoda's manner of speech is readily recognized, predicate complements leading the way:
"Your father he is."
"Gone is young Skywalker, consumed by Darth Vader."
"Only pain will you find."
"Surprised are you?"
"Failed have I."
"Judge me by my size do you?"
"Remember what you have learned. Save you it can."

In their struggle in the Force, Masters Yoda, Windu, Kwaigon, Obi-Wan, and Darths Mogg, Sithius (good second declension Latinate ending) and Vader, bring to the fore the critical role that choice plays in a person's life: it will shape your destiny.

As a linguist and Classicist, I particularly appreciate that Yoda's speech patterns raise our awareness of word order, of syntax, of how language establishes meaning. Our effort to understand him is itself a linguistic exercise.

"If once down the path to the Dark Side you start, forever will it hold you."
"Anger, fear, hatred - the Dark Side are these."

Now in 2007 there has emerged another die-hard, ardent Star Wars following.
These are kids who saw all the Star Wars movies, maybe even in Episode I to VI order. They probably own the dvds and listen to the theme music on i-pods. As for us seasoned Star Warriors, we saw IV through VI first. Then, if we could get over our contempt - and ourselves - Episodes I through III. Or not.

I have seen them all.

That Yoda is one heck of a teacher.
Anyone could learn from him.
"Do. Or do not. There is no try."

So what?
This is what.

In the building blocks of chapter 7 of my Latin text, the final set of sentences translate as follows:

"The skill of the boy conquers his anger."
"The skill of the boy is conquered by anger."
"The boy's anger is conquered by skill."
"They are conquered by the the boy's skill and anger."
"Skill and anger are conquered by the boy."

These sentences could qualify as absurd.
A context would be helpful.
Student, help thyself.
This year, my seventh grade students did.

And what might their context of choice be?

Star Wars

Of course.

Yoda, Master of Jedi Masters, whose favorite metaphor for a padawan's progression in the Force is Path or Road.
Anakin Skywalker, possessed of skill and anger in massive measure.
His was a journey from the Dark Side into Light.
Even the Emperor, Sith though he be, uses similar language:

"I feel your anger. Good. Gooood. I am unarmed. Go ahead. Take your light sabre. Strike me down, and your journey to the Dark Side will be complete."

The Road.
An apt metaphor.
Star Wars.
An unexpected context.
An old and welcome friend.

Even if one seventh grader does think that he's one of the Sand People.

And that I'm the Emperor.

Last week - directly below this post, actually - I commented on the sentiments expressed by the authors of The National Curriculum regarding modern languages.

This is That Post, Part II, Paragraph II of Modern Languages:

"Learning languages gives pupils opportunities to develop their listening, speaking, reading and writing skills and to express themselves with increasing confidence, independence and creativity. They explore the similarities and differences between other languages and English and learn how language can be manipulated and applied in different ways. The development of communication skills, together with understanding of the structure of language, lay the foundations for future study of other languages and support the development of literacy skills in a pupil's own language.

I'm a Latinist/Classicist/linguist.
I agree with the sentiments of this paragraph wholeheartedly.
The question is how to effectively achieve its purposes.

Here is my response:
Learn Latin.

"But Latin isn't a modern language."
"True."
"It's also dead."
"Also true."
"So?"
"So, word one: Frisp."
"Frisp? Never heard of it."'
"French
Romanian
Italian
Spanish
Portuguese

Which are all recognized languages of the European Union.

We also refer to them as Romance Languages."
"So?"
"So the structural basis of these languages is Latin.
Learn Latin, and you exponentially increase your capability of learning a Romance Language."

"Okay, but what about the other EU languages? Latin can't help with those, can it?"
"Actually, it can."
"How?"
"Many of the languages of the EU are inflected."
"Infected?"
"No, 'inflected'. A language that is inflected establishes meaning by changing the forms of its words, particularly nouns, pronouns, adjectives, and verbs. The form of the words shows their function in a sentence."
"And?"
"And Latin is also inflected.
Learn Latin, and you exponentially increase your capability of learning a non-Romance language."

"But it's still not spoken, right?"
"Right."
"So how does that address the "listening, speaking, reading, and writing" part of the paragraph?"

"In terms of listening and speaking, it doesn't."
"But isn't that a problem?"
"Actually, it's a solution in conundrum's clothing."
"You'd better explain."
"Sure. When students learn a foreign language, it often happens that their proficiencies - speaking and listening - mask their deficiencies - reading and writing."
"So they can't read or write."
"And how would you rate the literacy of someone who can't read or write?"
"Low?"
"There is a technical term for it. A person who cannot read or write his own language is 'illiterate'."
"So much for national literacy."
"You said it."
"But how does Latin help deal with this problem?"
"Which problem?"
"The literacy problem."
"With which language?"
"Better start with foreign languages."
"Fair enough. You have to ask why students find reading and writing difficult in the first instance."
"Okay, consider it asked."
"They find reading and writing difficult because they have done very little of those exercises with their own language. To really read and to really write, you have to more than inherently know a language; you have to understand it. You have to understand how words relate, how they fit together to make sentences, ideas, concepts, etc. You have to have done time, so to speak, working with the nuts and bolts of language - its grammar, its syntax, its vocabulary. To write it out long-hand, type it, chant it, play with it. Become friends with it. Writing is the tactile recording of literacy. Reading allows you to see how others go through that experience. Literacy is, in effect, the expertise with which you deliberately handle your own language. So if you are going to master another language, you will have to spend some serious time with your own."

"But why Latin then?"
"Because when students learn Latin, they cannot hide behind a good ear and convincing accent. They must focus on the other two aspects: reading and writing. Latin forces them to account for everything. That, in turn, forces them to account for everything in English. Which reenforces what they are doing with language in Latin. It becomes a benevolent cycle, feeding on itself."

"So, you're saying that Latin is good because it addresses reading and writing almost exclusively?"
"Basically, yes."
"So it makes students hyper-aware of their choice of words, and why they are saying what they are saying?"
"Yes. It turns a potentially passive exercise into an active one. It requires that they develop critical tools of linguistic discernment."

"And the student who takes Latin will be ready to study a modern language in all aspects?"
"Yes. They will be happy to be speaking a foreign language, but it will not be so completely different in terms of vocabulary or structure. They will have already been there. They will be jazzed up about going forward in their study of language."

"And this same student will have done a tremendous amount with the building blocks of English, too? All that grammar and vocabulary?"
"Yes."

"But doesn't that take care of two major concerns of the government?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, there's the national literacy recommendations, and there's the modern language entitlement, too."

"Right."

"Wouldn't a serious study of Latin help students, particularly at Key Stage 2, make significant strides in both these areas?"

"Let me get this straight. You're saying that you think that the study of Latin at...?"
"Key Stage 2."
"What's that mean in American English?"
"Ages 7 to 11."
"Oh, right. Okay, so you're saying that you think that the study of Latin at Key Stage 2 will facilitate both a growing mastery of English and set the stage for the thorough learning of Modern Languages? As required by the UK government?"

"Yes."

"I couldn't have said it any better. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

drg

"Good evening."
"To you, as well. Did we shave?"
"What? Oh, you mean the gauze. Or lack of it. Well, no, but my nose has healed considerably. Nice to breathe again through that left nostril. Haven't used it for forty-two years."
"That must be a strange sensation."
"It's quite liberating, actually."
"I'll bet."
"You'd win, so I'm not laying odds. Anyway, when we last were having our discussion, you asked a critical question."
"I did?"
"That wasn't it."
"Oh, right. I remember now."
"Will you reask it?"
"Surely. I asked, 'How do we know when a noun is acting as a subject or a direct object?' "
"Have you thought about it since then?"
"No, that wasn't the question I asked. I remember clearly."
"No, I mean, have you thought about an answer to your question which you just right now brought our attention back to."
"Oh. Well, yes."
"And you have an answer?"
"I said I thought about an answer. I didn't say I had one."
"Shall we conjure up that sentence which gave rise to your question?"
"Good idea."
"Our sentence was, 'Cows eat...'"
"'grass'!"
"Right. Did we decide anything about the function of 'Cows' in the sentence?"
"Yes, that it was a noun acting as the subject, i.e., the doer of the action."
"Right. Did we decide anything else?"
"We determined that 'eat' was the verb, i.e., the action that the subject, 'Cows', was performing."
"Okay. And?"
"And that 'grass' was the direct object of the verb 'eat' because it was what the 'cow', the subject, was eating."

"Let me ask you if you would agree to the following as a summing up of what we discussed last time:
1. Nouns are things (or persons or places)
2. Nouns can act as subjects, i.e., doers of the action of the verb
3. Nouns can act as Direct Objects (i.e., direct receivers of the
action of the verb)
4. Verbs are action words, i.e., words that denote action performed
by Nouns acting as subjects on nouns acting as direct objects.

Anything else?"
"No, that's about it."
"Okay. So your question then was, in a nutshell: How To Decide?"
"How to decide what?"
"Well, if a noun can act either as a subject of a verb, or a direct object of a verb, how do you know when you see a noun how it's acting?"
"I need some help here."
"Okay, let's bring back our sentence."
"Let's."
" 'Cows eat grass.' "
"So much is clear."
"How many nouns?"
"Two."
"Subject?"
" 'Cows'."
"Direct Object?"
" 'grass'."
"Verb?"
" 'eat' ."
"Where is the subject placed?"
"At the beginning of the sentence?"
"Yes, but let's be even more specific."
"Okay. Directly in front of the verb."
"Correct. How about the direct object?"
"That's directly after the verb."
"Correct. Do you know the answer to your question yet?"
"Sort of...."
"Take our sentence again."
" 'Cows eat grass.' "
"Switch 'Cows' and 'grass'."
" 'Grass eats Cows.' "
"Do those two sentences mean the same thing?"
"Don't they?"

"Look at them closely:
'Cows eat grass'
'Grass eats Cows'
Are they the same?"

"Well, no."
"What did I change?"
"The placement of 'grass' and 'cows'."
"What happened?"
" 'grass' became the subject; 'cows' became the direct object."
"What happened to the placement of the verb?"
"Nothing. It stayed the same."
"So what are we saying about where words appear in a sentence?"
"That it means a lot."
"It actually means everything. Where a word falls in a sentence determines its function in the sentence, and therefore, the force of that sentence."
"Could you summarize?"
"Absolutely. Word order tells you word function. An English sentence is completely dependent upon its word order to establish meaning."
"Are you sure?"
"Let me rephrase. 'Cows grass eat.' "
"What does that mean?"
"Exactly."