Showing posts with label Svenglish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Svenglish. Show all posts
Thursday, 21 July 2016
Swengmania! – The Swenglish film goes truly international
The Swenglish documentary by Adriana Sabau, based on my Swenglish project (and book) has gone truly international!
At the end of August there will be a somewhat belated launch party for the film in Romania.
The film has also been accepted and will be shown at two international film festivals:
TrueDoc Documentary Festival in the Ukraine in September
and Barcelona Planet Film Festival in Spain
Follow Swenglish on Facebook for more information
Buy the book
PÅ SVENSKA
Thursday, 17 December 2015
Swenglish/Svenglish is now complete!
Swenglish/Svenglish is now out in both Swedish and English. When some people see the cover they think I've written a dictionary. Perhaps that will be my next project.
For more info about the English book please click here.
För mer info om den svenska boken, klicka här.
The Swenglish/Svenglish project on Facebook
Monday, 19 October 2015
Swenglish has a big sister!
Jakten på den perfekta puben ("The Hunt for the Perfect Pub") is the name of Kristina Svensson's masterpiece. It's set in Wales and describes her experience of living and working there. She also visits quite a few pubs. Obviously.
The book is a masterpiece in my point of my view because I recognise so many British quirks.
Messy backyards, page 36:
Kristina writes about the backyards of houses that you see from train windows. She wonders why nobody has ever thought of having two "fronts" of the house. As if they were oblivious to people on trains who can look straight at their backyard mess.
Unreasonable showers, page 64:
The author feels cheated by the expression "power shower". Your only choice is a "forceful cold shower" or a "hot trickling shower".
Lack of signposts, page 211:
If you go hiking in Britain it's easy to get lost as the signposts are usually well hidden. Something Kristina experiences in Usk valley. (This makes me think of when I was going to take my mum for a walk to Beachy Head and we had to call a taxi to even find the starting point from the bus stop.)
Queuing without clothes, page 255:
The author and I agree that people in Britain seem to lack outer garments like jackets. Especially when they queue outside night clubs.
Thank you, Kristina for an entertaining read!
And please don't be offended, we do love you, Britain!
The Swedish version of my book Svenglish which contains similar anecdotes will be out in November. Click here to see the invitation to my launch party.
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
Question 14: What's your first memory?
10 out of 15 people in Sweden mentioned something more or less traumatic as their first memory (everything from a death in the family to pooping in their pants) but only 4 out of 15 people in England shared a traumatic memory.
I have no idea why it turned out this way. If I'd chosen 30 different people for the Svenglish project the result might have been reversed. That Swedish people mentioned so many traumatic events was perhaps because they felt closer to me as we spoke the same language and grew up in the same country.
Memories from the pram
What surprised me was that three people (two in Sweden, one in England) mentioned very early memories.
"I'm sitting in the buggy and am allowed sweets for the first time and I thought 'I'll remember this'. It was the first time I could think in that way, I must have been two or three years old. I've remembered all my life that I will remember this."
"My birthday party when I was two. I'm looking out of the window and I see my granddad coming."
"Lying in the pram, Dad singing the Batman theme tune".
Age obsession
I hardly remember anything at all before I was six. It's like my life began when I started pre-school and what happened before that didn't really exist. I had a theory that people in England had earlier memories because they start school earlier, but that theory didn't work out. There were several people in Sweden who had memories from kindergarten. However, the Swedes knew more specifically how old they were when certain things happened.
I don't know if people are more age obsessed in Sweden, but sometimes it seems like that. At least when you read the headlines and it says "29-year old woman" or "36-year old man" did this or that. In England, in my experience, it's not as common to mention age as an important quality even though it might be mentioned in the article in itself.
I don't know if people are more age obsessed in Sweden, but sometimes it seems like that. At least when you read the headlines and it says "29-year old woman" or "36-year old man" did this or that. In England, in my experience, it's not as common to mention age as an important quality even though it might be mentioned in the article in itself.
Abstract and detailed memories
Many writing exercises at creative writing courses or in books ask you to describe your first childhood memory. (And sometimes lie about it.) The Swenglish participants recalled both abstract and detailed memories that inspired me:
"Light playing on the ceiling."
"Eating toothpaste and watching King Kong on a black and white telly."
My first memory
Funnily enough I remember an old lady visiting my childminder and she told me about breaking a cup and telling me that it's sad that you only remember the sad things ... But I think I was seven or eight then. My first memory is playing with a dark red purse with a zip and that there are thick yellow and red crayons inside and that I'm on somebody's porch. How I found the purse (pictured) again after all these years you can read about in the book some time in the future ...
This study is by no means scientific, the answers are based on interviewing 15 people in England and 15 people in Sweden, aged 22-59. Look out for the next question: What's your relationship to your family? (I've chosen not to include question 14b "How was your childhood?" as people gave either too general or too private answers.)
Thursday, 28 March 2013
Question 6a: What does language mean to you?
The best thing I have and know of. I hear language in colours. It’s a system of noises.
Communication. That’s the word most
people mentioned. In general the people in England found it a very difficult,
abstract question to answer. But once they answered they gave thoughtful
answers about colours and sounds. The Swedes found it easier to talk about
language. My theory is that this is due to English people often being able to
speak their language when they go abroad, but Swedish people are forced to
speak another language (read English) as soon as they leave Scandinavia.
WHAT LANGUAGE MEANS TO PEOPLE IN ENGLAND:
“I like
it when foreigners speak, their different ways of constructing a sentence.
I adore the sound of another language. But I feel alienated if I hear a lot of
foreign languages on a bus, and long to hear English.”
“It allows me to communicate. I’m lucky to
be born in Britain, the international language for travelling, it’s horrible to
say but it’s the best language to know.
You can go anywhere and do anything.”
“I like to know grammatical structure. I
don’t like being in a country, not being able to speak to the people, I’d like
to break the tradition of English people
thinking that everyone knows English.”
“Communication. I like playing with
language when I write, I like changing it, describing
things in a way you normally wouldn’t.”
“I went on date and went round to his house
and he had the telly on the whole time, saying he wasn’t a good conversationalist, so language is really important
to communicate.”
“It represents communication, keeping in contact with people.”
“I hear
language in colours, when people speak, I see it in bits of colour.”
“It’s a system of noises. If we decided not to speak we would develop a
sign language. We have to accept evolution of language, developing sounds to
mean something.”
“It’s a variation of what chimpanzees do, but a bit more elaborate than
that. Another part of me loves it when it’s used well, like a drama that has a
good script. And I can sometimes use it in a way that entertains people.”
“It’s the main thing that gives my life meaning. I have a facility for
learning language and that also goes into creative language.”
“Dialogue means a lot, I like to remember things, and quote them
word by word.”
“It’s a source of fun and amusement, a constant hobby, definitely something
I’m forever fascinated by. I love learning new words in other languages.”
“It gives you your cultural identity.”
“Sometimes
it drives me mad and I want to get right away from it, get into music or
painting or whatever, but it’s just essential to me. It’s like asking what
blood or water means to you.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s a tool, it pre-exists
us, it’s the air we breathe, the medium through which we spin. It gives a
chance for everyone to be creative with it. It’s used in law, politics,
government. Power can be played cause we
can play with language, it’s a structure we can’t escape.”
WHAT LANGUAGE MEANS TO PEOPLE IN SWEDEN:
”There’s
something special about your mother
tongue, the language you can express yourself best in.”
”When you live in Sweden, I don’t think it
means that much, but when you’re abroad it means much more. It’s nice to listen to Swedish songs and
understand what they sing about. That you can actually communicate in a
language that no one else knows where you are.”
”When I write poems I always return to Swedish. It’s easier to express
complicated things. But song lyrics I find impossible to write in Swedish,
everything sounds so naff in a way.”
”In my everyday life I seldom reflect over
what language I speak. The times I’m aware of my relationship to language is
when I write lyrics. I’ve chosen to
write in English even though I’m better at Swedish. In Swedish the lyrics
would be in your face and I don’t want the words to take that space.”
”It’s natural as you speak it and have it
in yourself. But Swedish is a difficult
language to learn. Many dialects, variations, influenced by other languages
as well. It’s a good way of communicating with other Swedes, a very small
language.”
”It’s an important tool, communication. I
find dialects amusing. The language I speak is important, but then it doesn’t matter that much that it’s
Swedish in particular. It’s exciting that Eskimos have so many words for
snow, but no word for sun. And that “lagom” doesn’t really translate.”
”I’m so bad at other language so in that
aspect, Swedish means a lot. I like reading and writing and argumentation and
interpret words, to describe reality or distort
reality with words.”
”Swedish is the only language I master. It means very much. I like the words,
to write and use the language.”
”It means everything, it’s the best thing I have and know of.
Whatever happens I can always write something.”
”It’s about understanding and being understood. I’m fascinating by the way
people write, I love enjoying a book that just flows, it’s like seeing a
painting or hearing music.”
”I don’t
like translations, some words annoy me. Every language has its own sentence
structure, it can’t really be translated. I’m often hit by Swedish authors –
often it’s just the language that does it.”
”My feeling is that Swedish and English aren’t
just different because they are different language, but the whole structure,
how you express yourself and make your voice heard is very different. That
creates one English identity and one
Swedish identity.”
WHAT LANGUAGE MEANS TO ME:
Language is my life! I’m hyper aware of what words
people use and it can annoy me to see or hear words I don’t like. Now that I’ve
been in Sweden for a while I notice that I’m a bit more relaxed when I use the
language. I don’t worry about making mistakes in the same way as I do when I’m
in England. I feel less tense when I have conversations, because I don’t stop
to think about if my accent sounds terrible.
But as a contradiction I feel more shy in Swedish. In English I feel more cheeky, there’s more space for making a joke – often on my own behalf; I can get away with things because I’m Swedish. So there’s definitely such a thing as having one Swedish identity and one English identity.
But as a contradiction I feel more shy in Swedish. In English I feel more cheeky, there’s more space for making a joke – often on my own behalf; I can get away with things because I’m Swedish. So there’s definitely such a thing as having one Swedish identity and one English identity.
This study is by no means
scientific, the answers to this question are based on interviews with 15 people
in England and 15 people Sweden, aged 22-59. Next question: Do you mind if
people use the language incorrectly?
Friday, 8 March 2013
Week 2 Revisited - Beer Festival on International Women's Day
I remember International Women's Day from last
year very well. Swenglish host number 2 (in England) took me to a beer festival
at Hove Town Hall.
As part of your
entry fee you got a glass and in that beaker you could be served pints,
half-pints or a third of a pint. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The same hall
where I had worked as a ballot steward at the local elections was now lined
with beer and cider barrels. There was no music and all areas were brightly lit
as if we were at a conference.
Arriving at six
o’clock there were pre-dominantly men between 40 and 60, perhaps older, sipping
their pints or halves or thirds, nodding knowingly, searching for the perfect
brew: pale, bitter – or dry if they had cider. An organisation called CAMRA
(Campaign for Real Ale) was behind the festival and was originally formed in
the 70s by four men in the North who were disillusioned with the UK beer
market.
A couple of hours later the know-it-alls had left and
the crowd consisted of mainly 20 and 30-year-olds who drank just to get pissed
even if sips were swapped and the occasionally comment about flavour slipped
into the conversation. Most people seemed to pick their pint by name: Kama
Citra, Snake Slayer and Nightmare were only a few of the choices. Others looked
out for the ales with the highest alcohol percentage.
To say that the beer festival was a male dominated
event isn’t an exaggeration. There weren’t that many women in the room who gave
their opinions on real ale. In England, as well as in Sweden, I’ve experienced
that people (often the ones who are a bit older) have been surprised when I’ve
wanted beer instead of wine or a drink at the pub. Times have changed, but the
older generation still frown if a woman orders a pint. Once I went to an
informal job meeting with a male colleague and the person we met up with asked
what we wanted to drink. Pint of Harveys my
colleague said, and I said that I wanted the same. The person who offered the
drinks looked at me and said: half pint? As
if I wasn’t allowed a full pint because I was a girl.
I’m not saying it’s a good thing that girls drink as
much as guys nowadays, but it’s not fair to assume that a girl drinks a certain
drink and a certain amount just because she’s a woman. And the same goes to say
for guys. I’ve met men who towards the end of the night only wanted half a
pint, but haven’t had the guts to order one because it’s not considered macho
enough.
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
Week21: Elks and Xbox
During Week10 of Swenglish I made fun of the fact that the English family I stayed with took me to a British Wildlife centre, but the wildest English animals we saw were otters and badgers. At the moment I’m staying in Lilla Edet, just an hour outside Gothenburg and on the forest walk my host took me on we saw two elks! (A mother and a baby.)
This is Week21 in total and the sixth
week of my Swedish part of the journey: just like Week6 in England I got to try
something new: gaming. But whereas my English host let me try a shooting game
on the computer, my Swedish host let me have a go at an Xbox game where I rafted
down a river, using my whole body. My host uses this activity as a substitute
for exercise in winter when it’s too cold and too much snow to go running in
the forest.
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