Lands of Imaginary Languages

I read quite a lot of fantasy and science fiction when I was in high school (I was a complete and utter nerd, and fantasy/sci-fi was just part of the package). I still enjoy a good fantasy or sci-fi book every once in a while and wish I had time to read more of them. There is one thing, though, that I have not missed: made-up languages. The imaginary languages are more prevalent in fantasy books, and they are frequently spoken by elves. I have nothing at all against elves. Actually I enjoy elves, and once upon a time I even enjoyed reading their languages. Well, now that I think about it, “enjoyed” is probably not the right word; “endured” would be more accurate. I tried to take the made-up languages seriously, but it was so much easier to just skim or skip those parts and get back to the actual story. That was all back in my pre-editor days.

These days, when most of my elf-related reading is for work, I have to pay attention to the occasional elf language. This raises a question that continues to mystify me: How does one edit a language that is totally made up? Is “ihspa” the correct spelling? And would the plural be “ihspi,” “ihspas,” or “ihspe”? The mind boggles. Fortunately, many authors tell me to just leave their elf language alone, and I very happily do so. Seriously, editing English is hard enough sometimes; who needs the added complication of having to learn a new language along the way?

In the interest of full disclosure, I should point out that there are some made-up words that I love. My favorite book is Watership Down, which includes some vocabulary in Lapine, the rabbits’ language. This language does not annoy me because, for the most part, the words are used one at a time rather than in long quotations, they are used consistently, and they are explained very well. Maybe it’s only because I have read the book so many times, but a few Lapine words are even part of my daily vocabulary. Yes, I call my car a “hrududu” (which sounds so much more interesting than “car”), I think “embleer” (“stinking”) is a great curse word (“I’ll shovel the embleer snow”), and I’ve been known to utter, “Oh, Frith in a fog,” but only when no one is listening. Which brings up my last point for today: I only speak Lapine when I am alone, and no one actually knows I do this, so do me a favor and don’t tell anyone, would you?