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7 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A Book That Mirrors And Reveals The Realities of Europe, 20 Jan 2002
As a Gaelic speaker from the Outer Hebrides, reading Helena Drysdale's 'Mother Tongues' was like stepping into an amazing Hall of Mirrors - in which my own experience was reflected back in a thousand bewildering and distorted ways.In its pages, the author records how she and her family undertook an eighteen month odyssey around Europe, visiting a number of the linguistic minorities that exist both at the centre and fringes of our continent. Heading to its southern edge, they met such people as the Basques and Catalans of the Iberian peninsula, the Sardinians and Corsicans from their respective islands in the Mediterranean. In Europe's opposite extreme, they encountered other islanders - such as the Alanders whose home lies in the Baltic Sea - and also the Sami, a group whose wanderings once crossed many national boundaries but are now mainly resident in Finland. En route, she also made the acquaintances of other cultures - from the Flemings and Walloons who live nose-to-nose (and sometimes almost fist-to-face) in modern Belgium to other lesser known peoples, such as the Friesians or the Ladin, a group from Northern Italy I, for one, had never heard about before. Yet for all the differences between these groupings, it was the similarities between them that interested this reader most. History provided one mirror. Throughout their existence, most of the nation-states to which these peoples belonged refused to recognise any identity except the predominant, central culture of their country. With a few relevant deletions and substitutions, the words of a French Minister of Education in 1925 could easily have been repeated on the lips of any Spanish, Italian, even British government minister of that time; 'The only one who is truly French in heart and soul, and from head to toe, is he who knows and can speak and read the French language'. They were similar, too, in the way that, for much of their history, central authorities treated those who spoke minority languages. A stick, stone or even a pottery cow would be hung around the necks of those who sullied their mouths with the knowledge of Welsh, Provencal, or Scottish Gaelic they had brought from their homes into school. Even after this practice ended, however, some form of humiliation still continued. Helena Drysdale, for instance, sees great similarities between the work of the Scottish and Hebridean writer, Finlay J. Macdonald and the writings of the Breton, Pierre Jakez-Helias in his autobiography, 'The Horse Of Pride'. It was the same world they inhabited, the same challenges and demands they faced. Drysdale is also good in the way she identifies how people who have two linguistic identities face up to their dilemma. Within Spain, for instance, two minorities - the Catalans and Basques - have reacted in opposite ways. The former have almost abandoned their plans for political independence, settling instead for becoming the economic powerhouse of that country. In contrast, many of the Basque people still dream of their own country, perhaps, in response to the way so many of their people suffered under the rule of Franco. In addition, she poses many interesting questions; some of which I hear echoed within the borders of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland. Can a person belong to a locality without speaking its native language? Why is it often incomers who are most enthusiastic about the rights and culture of a minority? What is the value of bilingualism? Do certain peoples use language to exclude - or include - others? What makes a nation?... The parts of the book that were the most irritating were those distracting the reader from these and similar questions. Over the past few years, there have been an increasing number of travel books that have featured the most outlandish forms of transport. (Good readers will know the type. They possess titles like 'Travelling on a tandem across Turkey.', 'Hopping round Hungary.', 'Scooting through Scandinavia.' ... ) In Ms Drysdale's case, her chosen vehicle is a mobile home, complete with two toddlers blessed with names that would delight anyone fascinated by anagrams and other word-games, Tallulah and Xanthe. While the presence of these children helped the author ask a few important questions about the way humans acquire language, there were times when one felt trapped in a room with a particularly obsessive parent, babbling on about the wonders of their pre-school child. Yet this is only a quibble. Overall, this is a fascinating and beautifully written book - one that would interest not only those who are bi- or even trilingual, but also anyone who is curious about the way our fellow-human beings interact and communicate with other on this continent that is our home.
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