by Mark Twain
"Gretchen. Where is the accomplished and beautiful English maiden?
"Wilhelm. It has gone to the opera."
To continue with the German genders: a tree is male, its buds arefemale, its leaves are neuter; horses are sexless, dogs are male, catsare female--tomcats included, of course; a person's mouth, neck, bosom,elbows, fingers, nails, feet, and body are of the male sex, and his headis male or neuter according to the word selected to signify it, and NOTaccording to the sex of the individual who wears it--for in Germany allthe women wear either male heads or sexless ones; a person's nose, lips,shoulders, breast, hands, and toes are of the female sex; and his hair,ears, eyes, chin, legs, knees, heart, and conscience haven't any sexat all. The inventor of the language probably got what he knew about aconscience from hearsay.
Now, by the above dissection, the reader will see that in Germany aman may THINK he is a man, but when he comes to look into the matterclosely, he is bound to have his doubts; he finds that in sober truthhe is a most ridiculous mixture; and if he ends by trying to comforthimself with the thought that he can at least depend on a third of thismess as being manly and masculine, the humiliating second thought willquickly remind him that in this respect he is no better off than anywoman or cow in the land.
In the German it is true that by some oversight of the inventor ofthe language, a Woman is a female; but a Wife (Weib) is not--which isunfortunate. A Wife, here, has no sex; she is neuter; so, accordingto the grammar, a fish is HE, his scales are SHE, but a fishwife isneither. To describe a wife as sexless may be called under-description;that is bad enough, but over-description is surely worse. A Germanspeaks of an Englishman as the ENGLAeNNDER; to change the sex, headds INN, and that stands for Englishwoman--ENGLAeNDERINN. That seemsdescriptive enough, but still it is not exact enough for a German; so heprecedes the word with that article which indicates that the creature tofollow is feminine, and writes it down thus: "die Englaenderinn,"--whichmeans "the she-Englishwoman." I consider that that person isover-described.
Well, after the student has learned the sex of a great number of nouns,he is still in a difficulty, because he finds it impossible to persuadehis tongue to refer to things as "he" and "she," and "him" and "her,"which it has been always accustomed to refer to as "it." When he evenframes a German sentence in his mind, with the hims and hers in theright places, and then works up his courage to the utterance-point, itis no use--the moment he begins to speak his tongue flies the track andall those labored males and females come out as "its." And even when heis reading German to himself, he always calls those things "it," whereashe ought to read in this way:
TALE OF THE FISHWIFE AND ITS SAD FATE [2]
2. I capitalize the nouns, in the German (and ancient English) fashion.
It is a bleak Day. Hear the Rain, how he pours, and the Hail, how herattles; and see the Snow, how he drifts along, and of the Mud, howdeep he is! Ah the poor Fishwife, it is stuck fast in the Mire; it hasdropped its Basket of Fishes; and its Hands have been cut by the Scalesas it seized some of the falling Creatures; and one Scale has even gotinto its Eye, and it cannot get her out. It opens its Mouth to cryfor Help; but if any Sound comes out of him, alas he is drowned by theraging of the Storm. And now a Tomcat has got one of the Fishes and shewill surely escape with him. No, she bites off a Fin, she holds her inher Mouth--will she swallow her? No, the Fishwife's brave Mother-dogdeserts his Puppies and rescues the Fin--which he eats, himself, as hisReward. O, horror, the Lightning has struck the Fish-basket; he sets himon Fire; see the Flame, how she licks the doomed Utensil with her redand angry Tongue; now she attacks the helpless Fishwife's Foot--sheburns him up, all but the big Toe, and even SHE is partly consumed; andstill she spreads, still she waves her fiery Tongues; she attacks theFishwife's Leg and destroys IT; she attacks its Hand and destroys HERalso; she attacks the Fishwife's Leg and destroys HER also; she attacksits Body and consumes HIM; she wreathes herself about its Heart and ITis consumed; next about its Breast, and in a Moment SHE is a Cinder; nowshe reaches its Neck--He goes; now its Chin--IT goes; now its Nose--SHEgoes. In another Moment, except Help come, the Fishwife will be no more.Time presses--is there none to succor and save? Yes! Joy, joy,with flying Feet the she-Englishwoman comes! But alas, the generousshe-Female is too late: where now is the fated Fishwife? It has ceasedfrom its Sufferings, it has gone to a better Land; all that is left ofit for its loved Ones to lament over, is this poor smoldering Ash-heap.Ah, woeful, woeful Ash-heap! Let us take him up tenderly, reverently,upon the lowly Shovel, and bear him to his long Rest, with the Prayerthat when he rises again it will be a Realm where he will have one goodsquare responsible Sex, and have it all to himself, instead of having amangy lot of assorted Sexes scattered all over him in Spots.
There, now, the reader can see for himself that this pronoun business isa very awkward thing for the unaccustomed tongue. I suppose that in alllanguages the similarities of look and sound between words which haveno similarity in meaning are a fruitful source of perplexity to theforeigner. It is so in our tongue, and it is notably the case in theGerman. Now there is that troublesome word VERMAeHLT: to me it has soclose a resemblance--either real or fancied--to three or four otherwords, that I never know whether it means despised, painted, suspected,or married; until I look in the dictionary, and then I find it means thelatter. There are lots of such words and they are a great torment. Toincrease the difficulty there are words which SEEM to resemble eachother, and yet do not; but they make just as much trouble as if theydid. For instance, there is the word VERMIETHEN (to let, to lease, tohire); and the word VERHEIRATHEN (another way of saying to marry). Iheard of an Englishman who knocked at a man's door in Heidelberg andproposed, in the best German he could command, to "verheirathen" thathouse. Then there are some words which mean one thing when you emphasizethe first syllable, but mean something very different if you throw theemphasis on the last syllable. For instance, there is a word whichmeans a runaway, or the act of glancing through a book, according to theplacing of the emphasis; and another word which signifies toASSOCIATE with a man, or to AVOID him, according to where you put theemphasis--and you can generally depend on putting it in the wrong placeand getting into trouble.
There are some exceedingly useful words in this language. SCHLAG, forexample; and ZUG. There are three-quarters of a column of SCHLAGS in thedictonary, and a column and a half of ZUGS. The word SCHLAG means Blow,Stroke, Dash, Hit, Shock, Clap, Slap, Time, Bar, Coin, Stamp,Kind, Sort, Manner, Way, Apoplexy, Wood-cutting, Enclosure, Field,Forest-clearing. This is its simple and EXACT meaning--that is to say,its restricted, its fettered meaning; but there are ways by whichyou can set it free, so that it can soar away, as on the wings of themorning, and never be at rest. You can hang any word you please toits tail, and make it mean anything you want to. You can beginwith SCHLAG-ADER, which means artery, and you can hang on the wholedictionary, word by word, clear through the alphabet to SCHLAG-WASSER,which means bilge-water--and including SCHLAG-MUTTER, which meansmother-in-law.
Just the same with ZUG. Strictly speaking, ZUG means Pull, Tug, Draught,Procession, March, Progress, Flight, Direction, Expedition, Train,Caravan, Passage, Stroke, Touch, Line, Flourish, Trait of Character,Feature, Lineament, Chess-move, Organ-stop, Team, Whiff, Bias, Drawer,Propensity, Inhalation, Disposition: but that thing which it does NOTmean--when all its legitimate pennants have been hung on, has not beendiscovered yet.
One cannot overestimate the usefulness of SCHLAG and ZUG. Armed justwith these two, and the word ALSO, what cannot the foreigner on Germansoil accomplish? The German word ALSO is the equivalent of the Englishphrase "You know," and does not mean anything at all--in TALK, thoughit sometimes does in print. Every time a German opens his mouth anALSO falls out; and every time he shuts it he bites one in two that wastrying to GET out.
Now, the foreigner, equipped with these three noble words, is master ofthe situation. Let him talk right along, fearlessly; let him pour hisindifferent German forth, and when he lacks for a word, let him heave a
SCHLAG into the vacuum; all the chances are that it fits it like aplug, but if it doesn't let him promptly heave a ZUG after it; the twotogether can hardly fail to bung the hole; but if, by a miracle, theySHOULD fail, let him simply say ALSO! and this will give him a moment'schance to think of the needful word. In Germany, when you load yourconversational gun it is always best to throw in a SCHLAG or two and aZUG or two, because it doesn't make any difference how much the rest ofthe charge may scatter, you are bound to bag something with THEM. Thenyou blandly say ALSO, and load up again. Nothing gives such an airof grace and elegance and unconstraint to a German or an Englishconversation as to scatter it full of "Also's" or "You knows."
In my note-book I find this entry:
July 1.--In the hospital yesterday, a word of thirteen syllables wassuccessfully removed from a patient--a North German from near Hamburg;but as most unfortunately the surgeons had opened him in the wrongplace, under the impression that he contained a panorama, he died. Thesad event has cast a gloom over the whole community.
That paragraph furnishes a text for a few remarks about one of the mostcurious and notable features of my subject--the length of German words.Some German words are so long that they have a perspective. Observethese examples:
Freundschaftsbezeigungen.
Dilettantenaufdringlichkeiten.
Stadtverordnetenversammlungen.
These things are not words, they are alphabetical processions. And theyare not rare; one can open a German newspaper at any time and see themmarching majestically across the page--and if he has any imaginationhe can see the banners and hear the music, too. They impart a martialthrill to the meekest subject. I take a great interest in thesecuriosities. Whenever I come across a good one, I stuff it and put it inmy museum. In this way I have made quite a valuable collection. When Iget duplicates, I exchange with other collectors, and thus increase thevariety of my stock. Here are some specimens which I lately bought at anauction sale of the effects of a bankrupt bric-a-brac hunter:
Generalstaatsverordnetenversammlungen.
Alterthumswissenschaften.
Kinderbewahrungsanstalten.
Unabhaengigkeitserklaerungen.
Wiedererstellungbestrebungen.
Waffenstillstandsunterhandlungen.
Of course when one of these grand mountain ranges goes stretching acrossthe printed page, it adorns and ennobles that literary landscape--but atthe same time it is a great distress to the new student, for it blocksup his way; he cannot crawl under it, or climb over it, or tunnelthrough it. So he resorts to the dictionary for help, but there is nohelp there. The dictionary must draw the line somewhere--so it leavesthis sort of words out. And it is right, because these long things arehardly legitimate words, but are rather combinations of words, and theinventor of them ought to have been killed. They are compound words withthe hyphens left out. The various words used in building them are inthe dictionary, but in a very scattered condition; so you can hunt thematerials out, one by one, and get at the meaning at last, but it is atedious and harassing business. I have tried this process upon some ofthe above examples. "Freundshaftsbezeigungen" seems to be "Friendshipdemonstrations," which is only a foolish and clumsy way of saying"demonstrations of friendship." "Unabhaengigkeitserklaerungen" seems to be"Independencedeclarations," which is no improvement upon"Declarations of Independence," so far as I can see."Generalstaatsverordnetenversammlungen" seems to be"General-statesrepresentativesmeetings," as nearly as I can get at it--amere rhythmical, gushy euphemism for "meetings of the legislature,"I judge. We used to have a good deal of this sort of crime in ourliterature, but it has gone out now. We used to speak of a thing as a"never-to-be-forgotten" circumstance, instead of cramping it into thesimple and sufficient word "memorable" and then going calmly about ourbusiness as if nothing had happened. In those days we were not contentto embalm the thing and bury it decently, we wanted to build a monumentover it.
But in our newspapers the compounding-disease lingers a little to thepresent day, but with the hyphens left out, in the German fashion. Thisis the shape it takes: instead of saying "Mr. Simmons, clerk of thecounty and district courts, was in town yesterday," the new form putsit thus: "Clerk of the County and District Courts Simmons was in townyesterday." This saves neither time nor ink, and has an awkwardsound besides. One often sees a remark like this in our papers: "MRS.Assistant District Attorney Johnson returned to her city residenceyesterday for the season." That is a case of really unjustifiablecompounding; because it not only saves no time or trouble, but confersa title on Mrs. Johnson which she has no right to. But these littleinstances are trifles indeed, contrasted with the ponderous and dismalGerman system of piling jumbled compounds together. I wish to submit thefollowing local item, from a Mannheim journal, by way of illustration:
"In the daybeforeyesterdayshortlyaftereleveno'clock Night, theinthistownstandingtavern called 'The Wagoner' was downburnt. When thefire to the onthedownburninghouseresting Stork's Nest reached, flew theparent Storks away. But when the bytheraging, firesurrounded Nest ITSELFcaught Fire, straightway plunged the quickreturning Mother-Stork intothe Flames and died, her Wings over her young ones outspread."
Even the cumbersome German construction is not able to take the pathosout of that picture--indeed, it somehow seems to strengthen it. Thisitem is dated away back yonder months ago. I could have used it sooner,but I was waiting to hear from the Father-stork. I am still waiting.
"ALSO!" If I had not shown that the German is a difficult language, Ihave at least intended to do so. I have heard of an American studentwho was asked how he was getting along with his German, and who answeredpromptly: "I am not getting along at all. I have worked at it hard forthree level months, and all I have got to show for it is one solitaryGerman phrase--'ZWEI GLAS'" (two glasses of beer). He paused for amoment, reflectively; then added with feeling: "But I've got thatSOLID!"
And if I have not also shown that German is a harassing and infuriatingstudy, my execution has been at fault, and not my intent. I heard latelyof a worn and sorely tried American student who used to fly to a certainGerman word for relief when he could bear up under his aggravations nolonger--the only word whose sound was sweet and precious to his ear andhealing to his lacerated spirit. This was the word DAMIT. It was onlythe SOUND that helped him, not the meaning; [3] and so, at last, when helearned that the emphasis was not on the first syllable, his only stayand support was gone, and he faded away and died.
3. It merely means, in its general sense, "herewith."
I think that a description of any loud, stirring, tumultuous episodemust be tamer in German than in English. Our descriptive words of thischaracter have such a deep, strong, resonant sound, while their Germanequivalents do seem so thin and mild and energyless. Boom, burst, crash,roar, storm, bellow, blow, thunder, explosion; howl, cry, shout, yell,groan; battle, hell. These are magnificent words; the have a force andmagnitude of sound befitting the things which they describe. But theirGerman equivalents would be ever so nice to sing the children to sleepwith, or else my awe-inspiring ears were made for display and not forsuperior usefulness in analyzing sounds. Would any man want to die in abattle which was called by so tame a term as a SCHLACHT? Or would nota comsumptive feel too much bundled up, who was about to go out, ina shirt-collar and a seal-ring, into a storm which the bird-song wordGEWITTER was employed to describe? And observe the strongest of theseveral German equivalents for explosion--AUSBRUCH. Our word Toothbrushis more powerful than that. It seems to me that the Germans coulddo worse than import it into their language to describe particularlytremendous explosions with. The German word for hell--Hoelle--soundsmore like HELLY than anything else; therefore, how necessarily chipper,frivolous, and unimpressive it is. If a man were told in German to gothere, could he really rise to thee dignity of feeling insulted?
Having pointed out, in detail, the several vices of this language, Inow come to the brief and pleasant task of pointing out its virtues. Thecapitalizing of the nouns I have already mentioned. But far b
efore thisvirtue stands another--that of spelling a word according to the sound ofit. After one short lesson in the alphabet, the student can tell how anyGerman word is pronounced without having to ask; whereas in our languageif a student should inquire of us, "What does B, O, W, spell?" we shouldbe obliged to reply, "Nobody can tell what it spells when you set if offby itself; you can only tell by referring to the context and finding outwhat it signifies--whether it is a thing to shoot arrows with, or a nodof one's head, or the forward end of a boat."
There are some German words which are singularly and powerfullyeffective. For instance, those which describe lowly, peaceful, andaffectionate home life; those which deal with love, in any and allforms, from mere kindly feeling and honest good will toward the passingstranger, clear up to courtship; those which deal with outdoor Nature,in its softest and loveliest aspects--with meadows and forests, andbirds and flowers, the fragrance and sunshine of summer, and themoonlight of peaceful winter nights; in a word, those which deal withany and all forms of rest, repose, and peace; those also which deal withthe creatures and marvels of fairyland; and lastly and chiefly, inthose words which express pathos, is the language surpassingly richand affective. There are German songs which can make a stranger to thelanguage cry. That shows that the SOUND of the words is correct--itinterprets the meanings with truth and with exactness; and so the ear isinformed, and through the ear, the heart.
The Germans do not seem to be afraid to repeat a word when it is theright one. They repeat it several times, if they choose. That iswise. But in English, when we have used a word a couple of times in aparagraph, we imagine we are growing tautological, and so we are weakenough to exchange it for some other word which only approximatesexactness, to escape what we wrongly fancy is a greater blemish.Repetition may be bad, but surely inexactness is worse.
