NEWS AND VIEWS: "Don't step on my fingers, please!" (04/13/03)

NEWS AND VIEWS

by Roman Sawycky

"Don't step on my fingers, please!"

In memory of lexicographer Anatole Wowk, who would have composed this closer to the truth.

This exploratory article is not about threatened fingers of musicians, but of a cherished language, stepped upon and not allowed to develop in a free society.

The Ukrainian language is sometimes called "a peacock among crows" - descriptive and colorful, melodious and gentle. It is certainly rich in dialects, lends itself naturally to famed folk and professional poetry and, like Italian, is sung with ease.

But has it fully developed after centuries of harassment? Is it up-to-date in most semantics of technology, civilization or in the basic daily conversation of today's America?

Because they knew little English, such questions were seldom asked by Ukrainian émigrés a half-century ago, but my own generation is better disposed to make evaluations in comparative vocabulary. While not a linguist, this writer invites such professionals to voice their ideas of language "sounds and views."

Perhaps similar situations now exist in the Polish or Slovak languages. Everyday living brings up words that seem to be missing in Ukrainian: pets, party, nerd, appointment, stapler - all difficult to translate simply, in one word. But "lipka" has become accepted to mean Scotch tape, while the words slang, racket, business, summit (political) and sex have simply been transliterated into Cyrillic. The word "casual" may become "sporty" in Ukrainian conversation (an approximation), "fun" is more exuberant than simple "pryiemnist" (pleasure) and "frustration" denotes a more potent and pervasive feeling than "rozstroyennia," given by some dictionaries.

German for "datee" (social engagement) is "Verabredung," but "pobachennia" does not transmit the exact meaning of "date," and the slang-word "rantka" cannot be applied to a date at the grand opera.

What about strong feelings, like "exciting," "thrilling" and their numerous synonyms? How does one express these exactly, succinctly and without overlong adjectives? Let's see, "you seem excited" could go as "Ty vyhliadayesh zbudzhenyi," but, then, how does one say "you're an exciting fellow" or "that was a thrilling movie" or "I was flabbergasted by Sylvester Stallone"? By the way, in contemporary Ukrainian and Russian film distribution, imported tapes starring Stallone or Schwarzenegger are classified in Cyrillic simply as "tryler" (thriller), and this label is now being used also for books.

The objective, then, is to find (create, chisel) an acceptable and easily understood word rather than fumble with cumbersome descriptions. And the accepted word should be idiomatic to the language, easily and naturally introduced into new linguistic "currency." Some advances have been made here: babysitter works as "nianka," a nerd cowers like a "niunka," while "lipka," already mentioned, has firmly stuck to most Scotch tape brands. Other companies like 3M or the numerous products used daily at the post office are waiting their turn. Among other areas is insurance. But "strakhovka" or "strakhuvannia," widely used in Ukraine, may startle Ukrainian Americans.

Very much a part of modern life is stress, distinct from the more general and far older concept of tension ("napruha" or "tysk"). The word stress just like air-conditioner is just transliterated in Ukraine. "Drugs" cover a wide area of substances and include prescriptions ("liky") as well as narcotics; the exact equivalent for the all-encompassing "drugs" may not be found. Consider the pitfalls of such a common problem as post-nasal drip, expressed in idiomatic Ukrainian.

The changing times can be viewed with a smile when one remembers an aging translation of the guelder-rose song ("Chervona Kalyna") - the words by the Ukrainian Sich Riflemen about making Ukraine happy again, i.e., "a my tuyu nashu Ukrainu hey, hey rozveselymo" became, innocently "Hey, hey let's make Ukraine gay."

Even the wise world of books offers no easy solutions to translations of such mundane objects as bookends and paper-weights. Not to mention widespread genres of fiction: the Western, mystery, suspense, legal thriller. And what about the "brief" lawyers take to court? Must we shelve that, too?

Some reluctance on the part of young people to learn and speak Ukrainian should be traced to vocabulary still missing in that language. When teenagers communicate, they often talk show-business and entertainment. In that very American world. neon advertising promises the exciting, the exhilarating, the stupendous. Some of this show-biz language has turned up transliterated: design (of a set or a poster) is just written out in Cyrillic, although stage design has long been known as "stsenohrafia"; transliterated also are bits of entertainment like "pin-up" and "striptease." The word "show" followed this method along with "musical," being an American original, not a true operetta or musical comedy. In spite of some protests, these words have been adopted "live" because they are unique to 20th century America.

One should note that such generally accepted concepts of entertainment, fun and recreation seem to disagree with traditionally secure Ukrainian values and priorities of education, responsibility and duty, making full compatibility between the two countries unlikely in these areas.

And, to continue in the same key, could the front covers of the contemporary magazines Glamour or Cosmopolitan (announcing the contents of each issue) be successfully reworked into Ukrainian and deal frankly with details of intimate human relations? By the same token, could a professional translator do a viable Ukrainian version of some items in The Ukrainian Weekly, like Oles Kuzyszyn's reviews of pop music recordings in recent and technically sophisticated terms? I hope so.

In the contemporary film and recording industries some technical terms have not been worked out to everyone's satisfaction; among these are such basic things as cut, splicer, credits (in the titles), close-up, action sequence. True, the names of some effects were established long ago, when the Ukrainian cinema was young: stunts became "triuky" (tricks) as far back as the 1930s, while sound effects were credited in Oleksander Dovzhenko's classic films as "shumy" (literally "noises" - an approximation of sonic results obtained in production as also an oversimplification of the "effect" procedure).

Although active in sound recording for decades, this writer would be unable to supply equivalents for such standards in the industry as "signal-to-noise ratio," "wow and flutter" or "full-frequency range." Perhaps Russian technicians introduced their own language into such specialized areas of technology.

Often before us, but still elusive in translation, is glamour or sex-appeal; not simply "char," this portends almost magical charisma on or off-screen. Speaking of presentations, how does one speak of student graduations and how can we translate "attention span?" (By the way, how long is yours, patient reader?)

Finally, there are parts of anatomy, unlisted in the general dictionaries: earlobe, ankle ("kistka" - which merely denotes a small bone) and toe. There is no separate word for toes, which are referred to literally as "fingers on the legs."

That reminds me of a dance party long ago, attended by this writer and his fiancée. While waltzing and whirling, I suddenly stomped on her little foot with both of mine, I mean, with both my big left feet.

"Oh, don't," she gasped too late, "don't step on my fingers, please! Ouch!

* * *

Please note: Dictionaries consulted during writing of the above include both the English-Ukrainian and the Ukrainian-English parts of the M.L. Podvesko 1963 editions, the 1988 update of the English-Ukrainian dictionary by Podvesko and M.I. Balla (Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies, Edmonton), the large Ukrainian-English Dictionary compiled by C.H. Andrusyshen et al in 1955, as well as the English Ukrainian Computer Glossary & Short Glossary of A-V Technology by P. Fedynsky et al (1990).

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