“Alien Languages or What’s Not to Tell?”

Any time a science fiction writer creates an alien world, he has to deal with the idea of an alien language.  Wikipedia calls this ‘xenolinguistics,” truly a field of study without a field.  The Wikipedia article goes on to say:

“A formal description of an alien language in science fiction may have been pioneered by Percy Greg's Martian language (he called it "Martial") in his 1880 novel Across the Zodiac,^[1] although already the 17th century book The Man in the Moone describes the language of the Lunars, consisting "not so much of words and letters as tunes and strange sounds", which is in turn predated by other invented languages in fictional societies, e.g., in Thomas More's Utopia.”

In my own recent works such as The Farpool, I have created a language called Seomish (the planet is called Seome).  Here’s what I said about the language in the Appendix to this story:

“Seomish is designed phonetically to carry well in a water medium. Hard, clicking consonants are common.  The ‘p’ or ‘puh’ sound, made by violent expulsion of air is also common.  Modulation of the voice stream, particularly at high frequencies (sounding much like a human whistle) produces the characteristic “wheeee” sound, which is a root of many words.  Translation from Seomish to human languages like English requires some inspired speculation, since so many Seomish phrases seem to be little more than grunts or groans, modulated in frequency and duration.

“Most Seomish words are grouped according to several characteristics: (1) Who is speaking (the personal);  (2) who is being spoken to (the indicative); (3) state of mind of the speaker (the conditional); (4) the kel-standing of the conversants (the intimant).

“Each classification has a set of characteristic pre-consonants, to indicate the nature of the coming words, etc. Thus:

1. k’, kee, t’
2. tch, g, j, oot
3. m’, p’, puh’ (both anger, dislike, distaste, etc), sh, sz (both joyful)
4. each kel identifies itself with a unique set of capitalized consonants, like a vocal coat of arms.  Example: t’milee, or CHE’oray…Seomish  versus Timily or Chory…English.”
    
   Indeed, I’ve even got a small vocabulary of Seomish words.  One entry is below:
    

VISHTU:             One of the oldest customs of the Seomish, the vishtu or companionship roam, is very much in the traditions of Ke’shoo and typically involves two people although there is no set number.  Roams can last anywhere from a few minutes to a few days, even longer, with the average being a few hours.  Debate and talk is usually discouraged during the roam in order to let the physical beauty of the landscape work its magic.  Often a prelude to some intense, emotionally draining activity, such as sexual intercourse, the fine points and protocol of a roam are learned by Seomish at an early age.

A writer who deals in alien languages has several things to watch out for.  Here are five:

1. The alien language, whether Seomish, Klingon or Tralfamodorean, has to sound alien without being alien.  That is, a truly alien language might be something so bizarre as to defy comprehension.  Think of how bees communicate in the hive, using wiggles and scents.  A truly alien tongue could be so alien no Earthly reader could ever understand it.  So the writer must walk a fine line, between alien ‘sounding’ and actually being truly alien.  Of course, there are a variety of ways to do this
2. One of my favorite techniques is to use the alien word or phrase in a context where its meaning is clear.  Or even better, tell the reader what the word means.  “This device is called the ot’lum, or lifeship.”  Alternatively, use an index somewhere in your book.  In The Farpool, I did both of these.
3. A little goes a long way.  Use alien words sparingly.  Use them enough to give the reader a sense that this truly is an alien world.  Overuse makes it hard for the reader to understand what’s going on or follow the narrative line.  Most of your sentences should be readily understandable English.  Insert an alien word every few sentences or every few paragraphs.  Your reader’s imagination, along with your descriptions, will do the rest.  Sometimes, I have intentionally used awkward sentence constructions to convey alienness as well.  Again, don’t overdo it.
4. Don’t write a treatise on linguistics, unless that’s part of the story.  I developed some guidelines for language and vocabulary for myself, so I would be consistent in how I portrayed the language.  My Seomish characters are intelligent marine creatures; they communicate through grunts, clicks, whistles, squeaks and honks.  I even developed a device called an echopod to have a ready-made translation device available for my human characters.  I evolved the concept into a translator and encyclopedia, so that my human visitors could receive translated words and also more detailed explanations of things if they desired.  The concept worked out pretty well.
5. Don’t be afraid to let the reader do a little work.  In other words, you really don’t have to translate everything.  Leave a little to the reader’s imagination.  Intentionally leave some words or phrases untranslated or explained.  Isn’t that real life?  There are phrases in German and Spanish and many languages that don’t translate well or even at all into English…and vice versa.  I’m pretty sure alien languages will be the same.  As long as you don’t do this a lot, your reader will get the gist of the idea and still be able to follow the story, especially if you set the context and the dialogue the right way…the narrative thread will still be there for the reader to hold on to.
    
   Remember, truly alien languages will likely be so different from our languages that we may never fully understand what they’re saying.  The aliens may not even vocalize their language.  It could be based on scent, touch, dance or some weird combination.  Look around you at our own natural world and see how other creatures communicate.  I can’t imagine alien languages would ever be any less bizarre to us.
   
6. The next post to The Word Shed comes on April 24, 2017.
    
   See you then.
    
   Phil B.