This Christmas morning, I thought I would present an image of the act of language acquisition. Too often, it seems, those who put in the hard work of learning a foreign tongue do not take enough time to stop and appreciate what they have done, are doing and will do in time to come. Below is my attempt to provide some encouragement to you all. Enjoy.
THE LANGUAGE ARBORETUM
If we consider language learning as the cultivation of a garden, we can see many similarities. Both require great tending, great care and great consistency. However, unlike a garden, much of our work blooms inside of us, where no one else can see. Perhaps the reverse can be done here, in the imagination.
I have had many language-gardens in my day. I labored over Spanish like a vegetable garden, in High School, and planted a few French shrubs in College. As a lark, I potted some Russian; and, some years back, even gave serious time to Ancient Greek. Alas, they have all withered to the point of decay. My Spanish is basically weeds, my Russian dust and my Greek too wild to be tamed again. However, the practice of cultivation is still present in me, and for that I do not look back on those lost languages with total regret.
So, a couple years back I “cleared the land”. I took honest stock of my long-neglected languages and decided to start afresh one more time. I asked myself what I was really looking for in a language, and how many I could realistically nurture for the rest of my life. After long reflection, I settled on Latin and French. Latin is both a significant source of English and a rich and gorgeous language in its own right. Who wouldn’t want to read Virgil, Cicero and Caesar in their native speech? French is simply beautiful, and has the advantage of being something people still speak! Not to mention the culinary history, the English influence and the sprawling artistic accomplishments.
Where are my gardens now, a couple years after beginning again? I can say that while they are not a source of boasting, they are better and more soberly cared-for than the ones before. I have planted a “Wheelock” tree in my Latin garden, and am tending it diligently before tempting myself with a trip to the local nursery! I know that the Seneca-bush, the Virgil-oak and the Caesar-vines are still to come, in their proper time. My French is maturing, slow and steady. A few hanging vines of vocabulary, a handful of potted phrases, a vegetable garden of grammar.
But, what will it look like in time to come? Ah, that is worth imagining!
If I can continue the virtue of tending my languages, I can see a tall oak of Virgil’s epic in the middle of my garden; around it shrubs of Seneca, providing a lovely walking-path; I can see Cicero-plants along the border, well-established and providing a sense of magnificence. In pots will be some pleasant varieties like Lucretius, Catullus and Ovid. Perhaps the medicinal, but hard-to-keep, Tacitus will find a place as well.
My French garden will bloom in another way. It will be landscaped to invite conversation. Spoken French, like its own kind of organism, will spread as a vine around the walls of the entire arboretum. In addition, great species like Hugo, Dumas, Molière, Racine and all of those strange French poets will occupy the garden too. Within the landscape will be my own conversations with my son. These shall be the most delicate and wonderful. Roses, lilies, daffodils.
I can see it now, although my current state is more dirt than greenery.
May you, dear reader, reflect on your own efforts with this imagery in mind! Do you have a Seneca-plant in your garden? Or an Ovid-sycamore? Or perhaps an Aristotle-ivy, a Plato-redwood, a Tacitus-pine… what is in your garden, and what are you planting next year? May it grow deep roots!
Thank you for reading, and have a Merry Christmas.