Beware! Every two weeks a language dies

Barcelona"If anyone notices that they are bleeding from their nose because I am speaking Catalan, please say so. I am not going to switch to Castilian, but I will call an ambulance. Ambulance, in Catalan." The one who says this, and makes an enthusiastic audience laugh, is Òscar Andreu. He is the protagonist of the first chapter of the series. Mental hospitals, which is broadcast on the 3Cat platform, and in which comedian Ignasi Taltavull talks with some of the most prominent stand-up comedians on the Catalan scene about a central theme for them. In Andreu's case, it is precisely the language, Catalan, that is the protagonist of his monologue. Call to brightly colored birds. He has been touring the country for a few months now, but I have not yet managed to see him. That is why I liked watching this new programme, which, with the permission of Mònica Planas, I highly recommend. In his episode, Andreu explains the Andalusian origins of part of his family and says that until he was 18 he spoke mainly in Spanish. Then, however, he decided that he would speak "Catalan in Catalonia, something very difficult!" After discovering that Catalan was not a language invented by his mother, he began to take an interest in sociolinguistics. Andreu finds that it is a good time to talk about the subject, and The truth is that the data from the Generalitat's Survey of Language Uses, unfortunately, confirm this.. The comic considers himself optimistic about the future of the language, but says that we will have to make an effort. He thinks it is essential that politicians get involved, and one of the examples he gives is that it is not incompatible to worry about climate change and, at the same time, to look after the language.

I found the comment funny, because It made me think of a novel I just finished reading. and I also recommend: Eden, by Icelandic author Audur Ava Olafsdottir (Club Editor, translated by Macià Riutort and revised by Núria Martínez-Vernis). The protagonist, Alba, is a linguistics professor who participates in conferences on minority languages that open with such unpromising topics as "Every Friday a language dies." The book is very realistic, although later on it offers the consolation that it seems that every fortnight, and not every week, a language dies. Alas. As the protagonist is forced to take many planes to travel to conferences, one day she decides that she will plant 5,600 trees to offset the carbon footprint of the flights she has taken during the last year. So she buys a house in an isolated part of the island, but it won't be easy: to begin with, Iceland is a land of devastating winds. The move to this new home will mean that some books will have to be thrown away, most of them on linguistics, and in the second-hand shop in the town they tell her that they have little hope that anyone will be interested. But they end quickly: the bank teller has bought an envelope on the genealogy of the language, and the one in the supermarket, a collection of essays on grammar. Surprise, amazement: people care about the language. Even, in the novel, a young refugee feels more integrated as he learns Icelandic.

Olafsdottir is not an idealist, she is aware that this boy's case may be exceptional, and she makes interesting reflections through Alba and a very fine sense of humor. The protagonist, moreover, constantly relates things that happen to her with words, and greatly enjoys reviewing etymologies or declensions. She is also enthralled by the beauty of some Icelandic words, and I found myself, while reading, thinking about Catalan words and hoping that, together, we can take better care of this precious language of ours.