Tags
ancient languages, applied linguistics, classical languages, Greek, language learning, languages
If all goes according to plan, at the end of this coming semester I will hold in my hands a bright, shiny new Master’s degree with my name on it! My last requirement is a practicum, and the Fates must be smiling on me, because I’ve worked out a way to fulfill that requirement while also…studying ancient Greek! Somehow timing and patience and a few lovely professors have given me a two-for-one deal.
This is exciting, and also, I must admit, just a little harrowing. I took three semesters of Greek two years ago, so I’ll basically be picking up right where I left off, except for that unfortunate, you know, complete lapse in studying. I’ve dabbled here and there but it has certainly taken a back seat, especially when I became a full-time graduate student. And since I’m supposed to be assisting with the course, not merely attending, I don’t think a fake-it-til-you-make-it approach is going to suffice. Classes start in 11 days, so I have joined the ranks of probably countless generations of budding scholars – I’m cramming for Greek.
This reviewing/learning process presents some unique challenges, and unique opportunities. As part of my “assignment,” my Greek professor has asked me to keep a detailed journal of my process, something I was interested in doing anyway. She says that there’s a hypothesis, purely anecdotal, that she and most of her Classics colleagues have: if you stop studying a language, you can pick it back up pretty easily after a year; it starts getting harder after that; and after two years, you’re toast. Square one. Considering I am right at the two year mark, almost to the day, it should be, as she put it, “interesting.” 
I’m the subject of my own applied linguistics research! (Do I get extra credit?)
I’ll be posting occasional updates over the next few months as to how things are going. In the mean time, wish me luck! And Happy New Year!
Good luck! There’s nothing like the threat of teaching to get you motivated.
In your experience, how do you go about learning a “dead” language? Do you think about goals and fluency differently in those contexts? I’m especially wondering about whether or not at that level you come to engage the speaking and listening aspect of the language or whether it primarily concerns reading and writing? For you, what makes learning Ancient Greek as exciting an adventure as learning Russian or some endangered language?
One of the reasons I ask is because as a musicologist I am constantly dealing with “dead” music, or at least music written, by and large, by dead people, expressing life in a way that we can never fully understand today. I think it’s an interesting correlation and I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Best,
MR
Hi Matthew!
So far right now I’m just focused on texts. And yes I do think about “fluency” much differently for classical Greek than I do for Russian or Arabic. But I am committed to the idea that a language with a written corpus isn’t really “dead” at all, just kind of mute. Or maybe dormant. I get very moved by the idea that these people thousands of years ago still want someone to listen to them, so I want to try very hard to do just that. I’m sure it’s the same way with the people who composed the music you work with. It’s hard, very very hard sometimes, but we at least have to try to listen.
I feel like I could write a dissertation in response to your question
I could (and will, eventually!) say much more. This topic is very close to my heart.
I’d love to hear more about the musicology/language correlation too!
Back to Herodotus with me
-Allison