lunes, 25 de noviembre de 2019

La entonación como síntoma

CONTEXTO
No sé si os habréis dado cuenta del cambio en la entonación del castellano. Por supuesto que se van perdiendo acentos, y podemos señalar a la televisión, a la globalización, a la evolución natural del idioma o a lo que queramos. Desde mi punto de vista, es una pérdida cultural. Como músico, y como amante de los idiomas, me da pena que ya haga años, o lustros, de la última vez que oí a alguien "cantar" con acento santanderino al hablar.

Corríjanme si me equivoco: en castellano, la entonación correcta para las preguntas con pronombre interrogativo desciende hacia el final. Sin embargo, si no hay pronombre interrogativo, la entonación debe ascender. Compárese:
—¿Ha venido Pedro? (ascendente)
—¿Quién ha venido? (descendente)

ALARMA

Hace años ya que me llamó la atención cómo algunas personas hacían preguntas sin pronombre interrogativo y con entonación descendente. Era una entonación extraña para un montañés viviendo en el extranjero. La pregunta tenía un tono más elevado que el de una frase enunciativa, pero acababa con un descenso brusco al final que parecía como si me estuvieran reprochando algo en lugar de preguntarme. Eran casos aislados.

Poco a poco, fueron ganando terreno. Ya cuando estrenaron la serie Isabel, las entonaciones descendentes en las frases interrogativas sin pronombre interrogativo se hicieron más frecuentes que las entonaciones (correctas) ascendentes. Cuando llegó El Ministerio del Tiempo, uno la tenía que ver con subtítulos para saber cuándo preguntaban y cuándo afirmaban. Creo que fue en el tercer capítulo, cuando el actor Sancho pregunta "¿Es él?" y parece que está diciendo "Es él"—que en los subtítulos sí aparece con signos de interrogación. Que personas supuestamente provenientes de distintas épocas y regiones cometieran, todas, el mismo error, me pareció un fallo muy cutre, y también un defecto sin importancia en una serie estupenda; pero como profesor de español, aquello era irritante como una piedra colada en un zapato perfecto.

Hasta este año 2019, me parecía que los niños, al menos, seguían conservando el acento propio de los sitios y la entonación lógica para estas preguntas. Ya no.

¿SÍNTOMA?
Podríamos ver esto como una evolución natural de un idioma cada vez más expuesto al inglés, que distingue las preguntas de las afirmaciones por el orden de las palabras en la frase, y que se puede permitir ahorrarse el esfuerzo de ascender a un tono más agudo. En ese caso, sólo sería un síntoma de contagio lingüístico.


Sin embargo, yo creo que va más allá. Ya Gabriel García Márquez reflejaba la dificultad para respirar de la esposa del coronel (en El coronel no tiene quien le escriba) escribiendo sus preguntas sin signos de interrogación—y por si quedaren dudas de si aquello era intencional o una interpretación del lector, el narrador lo corrobora algo más adelante. Una sociedad cansada no va a elevar la entonación, sistemáticamente. Una persona introvertida o apática, tampoco: ella ya sabe que pregunta, y se lo pregunta a sí misma. Una persona desesperada probablemente no eleve mucho el tono tampoco.

Pero es mucho peor. Una persona con una entonación que no asciende al pedir permiso, en realidad no está pidiendo permiso, sino que está autorizándose a aquello que fuere. No es lo mismo "¿Se puede?" que "Se puede". Esa entonación plana o descendente se utiliza también en algunas preguntas retóricas (no en todas ni por todos): no esperamos una respuesta, o directamente no nos interesa la opinión ajena, y eso se refleja en nuestra entonación.

Llevado el punto anterior al extremo (y es un extremo que he visto demasiadas veces), refleja también un dogmatismo y un ánimo de convicción del otro. Si estamos, supuestamente, dialogando, y hacemos una pregunta clara a la persona que tenemos delante, la estamos invitando a que participe en el diálogo. Sin embargo, si la persona lo que oye es una afirmación, la estamos forzando a tragar con aquello que le decimos, porque para cuando se dé cuenta de que le estábamos preguntando, nosotros ya habremos seguido con nuestro rollo, autoconvencidos de que el silencio de la otra persona implica una aceptación tácita de la película que le estábamos contando. No es lo mismo un "¿Tú echas piña a la pizza?" que un "Tú echas piña a la pizza". Si te quieren convencer de que te pases a su bando, ni tan mal, lo creas o no: peor es cuando nos quieren convencer de que pertenecemos al que consideran bando contrario para poder odiarnos con justificación: "¿Tú serías capaz de comerte un niño crudo?" frente a la versión afirmativa. Brrr. Miedo me da.

Los españoles nos interrumpimos al hablar. Eso, que siempre ha sido un signo de mala educación, y que contribuye en ocasiones a crispar los nervios aún más, a mí, qué quieren que les diga, me da ciertas esperanzas de que aún no tenemos, como nación, un electroencefalograma tan plano como nuestra entonación.

lunes, 2 de septiembre de 2019

About Quijotes and Gretas

I'm a middle-aged man. I'm slim, bony, skinny, whatever you want to call it, and I'm ugly. I have my point of craziness. Or maybe I'm really insane—again, up to you. Some follow my life on social network or in the real world, waiting for the hilarious fall as if they were reading a comedy. If you don't have a life, at least have fun.

Yet I'm not Don Alonso Quijano, or Don Quijote. I am no Knight. I have no ideals. Or maybe, but not of the greatness of his. In Cantabria, I would refer to them as idealucos, my dear, small, manageable ideals. I'm just a grown-up child with some surviving dreams.

Correct me from wrong: Don Quijote, a fictitious character, was originally conceived as someone to be laughed at, to create a parody of those chivalry books that were so popular in Europe at the time. In fact, the publishing of his adventures was so successful that those books stopped being published (although people kept reading them). So there you go, you have a fool galloping against windmills thinking he's fighting giants and crashing against them, and he's beaten up by those he rescues and by those he rescued the first ones from, and the readers laugh at him, because he's so pathetic and that is the point of the whole book, right?

If you agree, you've missed a point. Maybe more than one.

Don Quijote may be a fool, but with his figure, Cervantes transmitted an idea that is too big for most of us: that a man without ideals is a dead man. When don Quijote is defeated by the Knight of the White Moon (a friend of his in disguise), he is requested to abandon his ideals and go back home. Don Quijote accepts, returns home, gets sick and dies.

 If we are lit candles and we die when the candle burns out, Don Quijote was a self-blowing candle. He didn't die when his body stopped working: he had been dead already since the moment he gave up his ideals.

He lived, he died. Some people mock him, some respect him, some are inspired by him.

I am no Quijote. Neither is Greta. True, she has ideals. True, she inspires others. True, she has her point of madness. But, in the eyes of many, there are too many things that are "wrong" with her: she is young, she is a female, she is telling us about her ideals. Many can't forgive that combination of factors.

Today I came across an article criticising her project as a whole has a huge carbon footprint and therefore the impact on nature is too big and it's all aiming at getting publicity for God knows what aims. There are too many statements in that sentence and it becomes a fallacy the moment we say there is no point in her doing that trip. She's raising awareness. She's creating debate. She's pointing at many insufficiencies in us and our society. She's inspiring people her age.

So let's make a list of the reasons to criticise her:
  • She has ideals: most of us don't and it hurts to be dead and see that somebody is alive, that's why we want to eat her brain.
  • She is young: we missed our opportunity of making something for the world while we had the time and energy and we can't stand anybody reminding us about that fact with deeds.
  • She's different: yes, we are all unique and blablabla but we can't accept that someone is more unique than we are.
  • She's announcing it: we may all be (or too many of us) too afraid to tell the world about our dreams.
  • She's supported: we don't get enough support for those dreams we never talk about, or we think we would not get it, and we don't wish anybody to have that support, period.
  • She inspires others: oh, she just wants to be famous and I will never be, that's soooo painful.
  • She's doing something: her actions remind everybody that we are not doing enough.
  • She's a female: worst and self-explanatory reason for many, she should be learning to cook, shouldn't she? Of course not.
All in all, she's reminding us that we, experienced, mature, sane, healthy, could be doing something that we are not doing.

"She is being manipulated by those making a lot of money with the fight against climate change, and she probably is nothing more than a puppet". When someone criticises those making money from attempting to save the world (or from convincing others to do something to save it) instead of criticising all those making money from directly destroying the world, the opening statement of this paragraph becomes a shitty argument. Even if anyone had proof that she is being manipulated: so are most of us, e.g. when we buy things we don't need and we travel to places we are not really that interested in etc. With proof or without, I bet she has done more for the welfare of the world at her young age than most critics doubling or quadrupling her age in their entire lives.

I was furious enough. Then somebody told me that she's just a child, that she would grow out of that crazy attitude.

Hopefully not.

I'm dying. My world is dying. My candle is getting shorter. And I am allowing the zombies to blow on the flame of my ideals.

But, you know what—indirectly, Greta has given me a reason to live. To live again. To refresh my flame, even if it just were to annoy some.

Now and then I get this recurrent thought of "Why should I care, I'm old enough, there will be world until I die". In fact, I pronounced that very sentence today, while having a discussion on Greta's trip. Why should I have ideals. Why should I have something to fight for, a dream, an "ilusión" (something magical to look forward to). Why shouldn't I become a comfortable grey zombie like the vast majority. Why should I be different. Why should I try inspiring others, expose myself to criticism and mocking, why should I try when nobody can fight Money or those lustful for it (Quevedo said "A powerful knight is Sir Money").

I may not have a direct answer. I know caring is the right thing to do. Greta may not be Don Quijote and she may have huge flaws. She also has an entire life ahead (hopefully) to perfection herself.

Young people need good role models. They need heroes too, and I may be too old and imperfect to become one, but I can at least support those that are young enough to be young people's heroes.

And you know what... being my age and keeping alive my ideals, I will be the proof that comments like "she will grow out of it" are absolutely crappy. She may not grow out of anything. And even if she did, by then she will have inspired others (hopefully) among whom some will keep their ideals. An that is the point: everything is about trying, about not giving up, about what we can learn; about believing, about having hope and faith.

I'm still doing something. I'm still fighting, 40 years after hearing for the first time "you're a child, you will grow out of those ideas and you'll understand". I have that point of insanity. I'm different. I'm unique. I'm not a zombie and I'm not dead yet. I will defend, maybe also team up with, those I feel related to either me or my ideal self. You can choose to live with it or to die out of it. But let Greta alone unless, or until, you have something better to offer yourself.

jueves, 25 de julio de 2019

Bailar con dogmas

Estaban hablando dos hombres de mediana edad y uno menciona sus achaques, que si esto, que si aquello, que si la espalda. Ah, la espalda, te mueves poco, ¿no? Pues ni tan poco, como de costumbre, más de lo que me recomiendan los médicos, pero esto me viene de nacimiento. Ya, responde el listo, a mí en eso me ayudan los bailes de salón, que son estupendos porque bla bla bla. Entiendo, dice el doliente, yo también hacía bailes, sé de lo que hablas, a mí lo que me ayuda es la natación, que la tengo dejada, y ejercicios específicos de espalda. No, no, se defiende el listo, no lo entiendes, la danza no es de trabajo muscular, es de coordinación entre la mente y el cuerpo y de un cuerpo con otro, y yo también tenía cosas de nacimiento y limitaciones y motivos varios, pero la danza bla bla bla. El doliente evidentemente no tiene fuerzas para discutir. "Me alegro de que te sirva". El listo se enfada.

Y no es difícil imaginarse cómo continuaría la historia con un doliente que pecara de ser demasiado conciliador. Intenta la danza, acaba con tirones por todo el cuerpo y machacado, y el listo entonces lo atacaría, no por no haber intentado la danza, sino por haberlo hecho mal desde el principio, que debería de haber hecho bla bla bla. El listo mantiene su posición de poder, anclado en sus inamovibles dogmas, y el conciliador se siente todavía más idiota que antes. Debería haber hecho lo que sabía: volver a la piscina y a los ejercicios e ignorar al dogmático, en lugar de perder el tiempo con caminos que sabe sin salida ya antes de dar un primer paso por ellos.

Por suerte, el doliente ya ha bailado en más discusiones en esta vida y a algunos interfectos los ve venir de lejos. Mariconadas, las justas, que la vida es demasiado corta y de algo tendría que servirnos la poca experiencia que vamos adquiriendo. "Me alegro de que te sirva". Y el listo se enfada porque se da cuenta de que, con dolor y sin fuerzas, el doliente no está dispuesto a bailar con él. Ni ahora, ni nunca.

domingo, 14 de abril de 2019

Otolism again

One in English this time.

I was asked by a very dear student whether I was an Atheist or what my belief was. I tend not to answer to that question (or to answer in ways like "I don't want to talk about religion" or "it's none of your business"), this time I answer "I'm an Otolist".

I often forget not everybody knows I'm Otolio. So there were questions. Let's try to give some answers.

The basic principle is the non-universality of any belief. There is a different travel plan for each person on Earth. Sure, some of us can go on the same vacation using the same means of transport, staying in the same hotel, doing the same activities, eating the same food at the same time and place, and do so year after year; but that does not mean our circumstances or personality or needs are different. We may disagree on the best option for the next holidays and that is nothing personal against anybody. In fact, the best one can do is go on the holiday of his/her dreams—and the rest of the world has to respect that. They are my holidays.

Sure, growing spiritually is not the same as going on holiday, but it shares features, like the fact it is a journey. And it is a personal one.

In other words: it is up to each one of us how (or whether) we will grow spiritually. If there is God or any other kind of "facing our deeds" at the end of this life, it is going to be each of us for himself/herself, not our judges for us. I am trying to find what my travelling plan is; and sometimes, I need to improvise, because I wasn't born with an instruction booklet and the ones I've been offered so far were other people's.

For me, this brings up the need to develop not only respect but also acceptance: I accept my travel plan, I accept others have different ones, I respect their right to do what they have to do and I defend my right to follow my own travel plan—which is not necessarily (and often isn't) an easy or pleasant one.

I recognize the Golden Rule: be to others like you would like others to be to you if you were in their circumstances. Sure, if someone likes being physically tortured every day before breakfast, go find somebody else, I am not available for that, personally.

Following the Golden Rule, in my opinion, implies ecology: I like being in a clean, safe, preserved area of the world whenever possible and I wish the same to future generations—of people, but also animals, plants and other Kingdoms of Life. Yes, that is something that makes my life more complicated on a daily basis: only classifying the trash means I have 15 different sections/bins, at least while I learn how to improve my system; but I don't like the Planet, as a living organism, to suffer because of me.

Yes, one person can make a difference, in my opinion; and even if it didn't, I have to follow what is correct for me, and not what others reckon to be pointless.

Related not only to ecology is the idea of moderation (mesura in Spanish) or self-control: I don't buy everything I want even if I can afford it, I don't order all the food I fancy without thinking of the capacity of my stomach.

There are many other principles I try to follow that are not directly connected to the ones above. Sure, I am far from perfect and I don't always eat with moderation (to mention but one example of moderation). Sometimes I struggle to accept unpleasant events in life, like the too early departure of a friend. Sometimes I act before I think.

Oh, and yes, this system of beliefs or whatever you want to call it—it is my own and if others are called after those who presented them to the world, then this should be called Jorge-Otolism. Yet it is rather my alter-ego, the second part, the Artisan, the individuum, trying to defend it against mockery, rolling eyes, despite, etc, rather than the more conventional Jorge, therefore I call it Otolism.

Whoever you are, I probably won't accept your belief as mine either; but I love talking about ways of growing spiritually, provided they are open-minded and not impositive/imperative. So... want to talk?