Sierra Prasada

In this recent story for ABC News, the newscaster, a parent, demonstrates how her toddlers appear to learn words and counting via an iPad app but then show no ability to replicate their knowledge when confronted with old-fashioned flashcards.

An NYT article I’d linked to earlier on the blog, reported that babies “preserve the ability to discriminate Chinese language sounds” when exposed face-to-face with a Mandarin speaker, but not if they hear the same sounds via “a television program or an audio tape.”

Could there be a connection? It’s almost as though the screen that separates these two learning experiences marks the division between two different worlds and what happens in one may not reach the other… Or maybe I should just quit reading 1Q84 already.

From More Intelligent Life, the origins of the word ‘serendipity’:

The word that best describes this subtle blend of chance and agency is “serendipity”. It was coined by Horace Walpole, man of letters and aristocratic dilettante. Writing to a friend in 1754, Walpole explained an unexpected discovery he had just made by reference to a Persian fairy tale, “The Three Princes of Serendip”. The princes, he told his correspondent, were “always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of…now do you understand Serendipity?”

I hesitate to recommend the rest of the article, though, as it quickly devolves into a (mannered) rant against the world wide web.The ability to make rapid connections between Q and A is “amazingly good,” writes Ian Leslie, but “a side-effect of this awesome efficiency may be a shrinking, rather than an expansion, of our horizons, because we are less likely to come across things we are not in quest of.”

In my experience writing (and, first, researching and more researching) this blog, the internet is an incredible generator of serendipity; indeed, I can’t ‘quest’ after anything without running smack into the unexpected along the way, most recently in the form of this . . .

. . . image: Horace Walpole’s architectural history-altering villa, Strawberry Hill.

During their lifetimes, Henry James and his older brother William enjoyed great affection for one another, fame in their own realms and a healthy rivalry – one that appears to have followed them into the cultural afterlife.

In Author, Author, David Lodge muses that, if he the opportunity to speak with James now, he would tell him:

You only contributed one word to the English language, but it’s one to be proud of: “Jamesian.”

Except that he’s not quite right, for the same term is also attributed to the writings and philosophy of William. Perhaps we should consider it tantamount to a truce?

Image: Henry and William, England, 1901

I’m gearing up to do more Arabic-related posts on this blog and, by way of an introduction, I’d like to propose a new, additional meaning to the phrase ‘Arab Spring’.

As it is, Arabs speaking in Arabic appear to prefer some variety of ‘Arab revolutions’ (الثورات العربية) or ‘Arab uprisings’, even though “Arab Spring” may itself have been coined in the Arab world in early 2005 – following the first demonstrations sparked by former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafic Hariri’s assassination, though before the largest gathering seven years ago today.

Regardless, seasonal metaphors, by definition, are cyclical, sometimes abruptly so, since the rhetorical spring ushered in by 2011 appears to have passed directly into winter, so far as many prominent commentators are concerned anyway.

Instead of scrapping the term altogether – and it still has the caché of convenience – I’m repurposing it. The increased (though far from sufficient) coverage of the Arab World in the international media over the last 15 or so months has served to underscore the tremendous material wealth of Arab culture, now accessible to to anyone and everyone with an internet connection.

Put simply: There’s no excuse for ignorance anymore.

For me, then, the Arab Spring is an invitation to harvest and enjoy the fruits of an Arab renaissance that has been a long time in developing and that more than merits our attention. More posts to come . . .

Image: Forgive the mixed metaphor, but it is also the year of the Dragon.

At More Intelligent Life, Economist Middle East and Africa editor Josie Delap, sings the praises of Arabic:

To a native English-speaker, searching for a language to learn and probably inexpert in the dark arts of grammar, the simple Romance languages with their common-sense syntax might seem obvious choices, perhaps even those of Scandinavia with their familiar-sounding, if oddly spelt, vocabulary. But instead, breathe deep, and plunge into Arabic. . .

Read the rest.

In the above video (Egyptian Arabic with English subtitles), teenage polyglot Timothy Doner, featured last week in The New York Times, talks about his own Arabic study and some of the different uses of formal and colloquial Arabic.

While I personally don’t agree with his rigid division between the two, his abilities are impressive, especially given how little he’s studied Arabic and how many other languages he’s learning. Inspiring? Intimidating? I’m still not sure.

Did he really say it? Probably not. But it sure does come in handy!

Slide Sources:
Slide 1: HBO show In Treatment, season two, episode 11, Mia
Slide 2: The New York Times, “Let’s See What’s Inside That Pretty Head,” November 23, 2011
Slide 3: More Intelligent Life, “The Designer Who Makes Buildings,” profile of Thomas Heatherwick
Slide 4: Lyrics from As Time Goes By, written by Herman Hupfeld and made famous by Dooley Wilson in the film Casablanca, provided suitable background music for a recent Guardian film podcast
Slide 5: Chapter title from Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships; image from Crazy, Stupid Love
Slide 6: Screenshot of New Yorker cartoon caption contest submission by Julian Hirst

In 2009, Slate’s Explainer asked and answered: “When did getting “hit by a bus” become the standard image of unexpected catastrophe?”

They credit Joseph Conrad, more specifically his protagonist (of sorts), Mr. Verloc, with the earliest accident-related usage:

But just try to understand that it was a pure accident; as much an accident as if he had been run over by a ‘bus while crossing the street.

Of course, if the assertion’s accurate, it certainly took a long time for the two meanings to, um, collide. “Buses” – at least those capable of running people over – apparently started careening around as early as the 1600s.

Read the rest of the article and decide for yourself. (Regardless of how it came about, the usage sure is popular in movies!)