Интересное чтение: концепция "Авторской пунктуации"

Читая статью о главных заблуждениях о русском языке в журнале “Русская Мысль”, я в первый раз столкнулась с феноменом “авторской пунктуации”.

Значение этого термина мне не сразу было понятно, особенно потому, что автор статьи утверждает, что авторская пунктуация – это феномен исключительно графиллогический, а не орфографический.

Это уточнение дает понять, что авторская пунктуация связана с почерком и с выражением личности почерком. Следовательно, мы можем считать авторскую пунктуацию признаком креативности и своеобразным подходом к языку.

Одновременно автор статьи, прочитанной мной, подчеркивает, что авторская пунктуация не является орфографическим феноменом. Это значит, что в принципе, все писатели всяких текстов должны были признать правила правописания и соблюдать их.

Я стала думать: присутствует ли в немецком языке то же самый, или сравнимый феномен? Он не существует под тем же названием, а похоже понятие, конечно, есть. Однако, кажется, что оно касается фактически только литературных текстов.

Почему? Как известно, авторы художественной литературы могут позволить себе более свободно относиться к правилам прапописания. Кроме того, им разрешают, обычно, образование новых слов и использование необычных с точки зрения грамматики словосочетаний.

Очень интересно обратить внимание на авторскую пунктуацию, когда мы читаем тексты, не относящиеся явно ни к художественным, ни к научно-официальным текстам. Речь идет, прежде всего, о текстах, опубликованных в интернете, например, в блогах, и о текстах, написанных в газетном стиле. Примерами можно привести комментарии, репортажи, очерки и. т. д. В зависимости от конкретной целевой группы, стиля, контекста и типа текста можно разрешить авторам более свободный подход к языку.

Короче говоря: чем больше текст похож на художественное произведение, тем больше автономии у автора. Однако, конечно, авторская пунктуация не может служит “отговоркой” не следовать правилам правописания. Ее можно признать, если она на самом деле имеет художественную функцию и улучшает каким-либо образом данный текст.

Dreaming in a foreign language

Dreaming in another language is an extremely interesting phenomenon to all language enthusiasts. It occurs whenever a foreign language has found the way to your heart.

How to make yourself dream in a foreign language? Of course, it will be necessary to expose yourself to the language of choice as much as possible. Continuous and intensive contact allows for the foreign language to take root in your subconscious. Apart from that, I can say from experience that intensive contact with the language right before going to sleep favors dreams in this language.

During the last couple of weeks, I have watched the show “Narcos”, in Spanish, with English subtitles. It was definitely a learning process! The subtitles allowed me to improve my listening comprehension skills in Spanish, while the daily contact with this beautiful, relaxed and powerful language gave a feeling for its sound and pronunciation.  More than once have I found myself lying in bed after an episode of “Narcos”, my head spinning with the resonating Colombian Spanish.

And then, in the end, it happened. I will try and spare you the details of my disturbing dream that included a university class in outer space … the crucial point, however, was that my fellow students spoke Spanish! I have no idea how my brain could create the illusion of me listening to someone speaking Spanish. The experience I had in my dream was the same I have when watching “Narcos”: sometimes I am able to follow the dialogue pretty well, even without subtitles, mostly because Spanish is so similar to Italian. Then again, I find myself unable to decipher what is being said and I only understand a few words.

All in all, this unique experience showed me how receptive our brain is in the moments before going to sleep. I’d like to make use of this fact in the future as well, I am sure it will be worth it!

To conclude, I’d like to present you with the Spanish “chunks” I have learnt so far:

La misma cosa – the same thing

promettemelo – promise me (it)

¡Tienes mi palabra! – you have my word!

¿Donde estamos? – Where are we?

Por favor, tengo que saberlo – Please, I have to know (it)

Non lo quiero hacer – I don’t want to do it


Unknown language adventures: Hungarian

“Translators are nomadic figures inhabiting spaces between cultures” – Cronin 2000: 104

The four days I spent in Budapest for my friend’s graduation turned out to be a most memorable multilingual experience.

It was especially interesting to see how much it differed from my Croatian adventure.

Of course, I was equally proud of myself when I mastered the pronunciation of „Köszönom!“ or the much hipper version my friend taught me: „Kös bro!“.

Yet I could not help but feel intimidated by the incredibly long and complicated Hungarian words that had nothing in common with the Germanic, Romance or Slavic word stems I am familiar with.

The seemingly unpronounceable accumulations of letters discouraged me from reading any street signs aloud, (which might have come as a relieve to my travel companions), I only dared to cautiously whisper some of the words that seemed tame: „tej“ (milk), „vìz“ (water), „kávé“ (coffee).

But, as complicated the Hungarian language and its underlying grammar seemed to me, as comfortable did I feel alongside my many multilingual companions. Not only did they make me feel at home immediately in the very special city of Budapest, but they also excelled both as ad hoc interpreters, and as case studies!

Everywhere we went I admired their skillful „natural“ interpretations: at the restaurant, the ticket counter, the grocery store and at various Austro-Hungarian family gatherings.

In a large group of Austrians, Hungarians and Austro-Hungarians, the biliguals definitely were the lucky ones; and the ones we monolinguals were in dire need of!

It was fascinating at which incredible speed they would switch back and forth between Hungarian and perfect German, how casually they veered in and out of conversations, as the „nomadic figures inhabiting spaces between cultures“* they were.

Yet it was almost equally interesting to see how important a certain degree of nonchalance was in this situation:  as one of the monolinguals you don’t have to understand every single word that has been said. Just lean back from time to time, listen to the lively, incomprehensible chatter and enjoy the show!

All in all, there has never been a better motivator to keep improving my working languages in order to become as fluent and comfortable in all of them as my favourite Austro-Hungarian ad-hoc interpreters 🙂


*CRONIN Michael, Across the Lines. Travel, Language and Translation, University Press, Cork 2000, p.104.