|
The Invariable Morphemes of Esperanto
Languages combine morphemes to form words. Morphemes
are little words and parts of words that have a meaning by themselves.
In English, the word dog has just one morpheme, but dogs
has two, dog and s. The morpheme –s means
“more than one.” The word learned contains the morpheme –ed
which means “took place in the past.”
In many languages, including English, morphemes change
inside themselves. For instance, mouse changes to
mice to indicate that there is more than one. Give
changes to gave to show that the action took place in the past.
Every time an English morpheme changes inside itself,
the foreign student has another new learning burden to deal with.
Since hundreds of English morphemes change inside themselves, this
adds up to a significant learning burden.
Esperanto morphemes do not change inside themselves.
Once students learn an Esperanto morpheme, they do not have to worry
about having to memorize variations of that morpheme.
Speakers and writers of Esperanto are free to combine
the unchanging morphemes of the language to create new, instantly
recognizable words.
Kur
is a morpheme that means “run.” (Kur by itself
is not normally used as a word.) Adding the noun ending –o
gives kuro which means “running.” Adding different verbal endings
gives these verb forms:
·
Add –i, and you form the infinitive kuri
(to run.)
·
Add –is, and you form the past tense kuris
(ran.)
·
Add –as and you form the present tense kuras
(run, runs.)
·
Add –os, and you form the future tense kuros
(will run, is going to run.)
·
Add –us and you form the conditional kurus
(would run.)
·
Add –u and you form the imperative kuru
(Run!)
These endings may be added to any morpheme to create
a verb, as long as the resulting verb makes sense.
That is all that there is to it.
The Changing Morphemes of English
The corresponding English morpheme run does
change inside itself. Run becomes ran to form
the past tense. In the gerund run becomes runn,
as part of running.
Here are eight English words that change inside themselves:
|
1.
|
tooth
|
teeth
|
|
|
|
2.
|
think
|
thought
|
|
|
|
3.
|
meet
|
met
|
|
|
|
4.
|
forget
|
forgettable
|
|
|
|
5.
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army
|
armies
|
|
|
|
6.
|
man
|
men
|
|
|
|
7.
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sink
|
sank
|
sunk
|
|
|
8.
|
lie
|
lay
|
lain
|
lying
|
Here are the corresponding Esperanto forms for the
above words. The unchanging root is in bold print. You
cannot put the unchanging root in the English forms above in
bold print because there are no unchanging
roots.
|
1.
|
dento
|
dentoj
|
|
|
|
2.
|
pensas
|
pensis
|
|
|
|
3.
|
renkontas
|
renkontis
|
|
|
|
4.
|
forgesas
|
forgesis
|
|
|
|
5.
|
armeo
|
armeoj
|
|
|
|
6.
|
viro
|
viroj
|
|
|
|
7.
|
sinkas
|
sinkis
|
sinkinta
|
|
|
8.
|
kuŝas
|
kuŝis
|
kuŝinta
|
kuŝanta
|
English is rich in compound words, words formed by
putting morphemes together. Some examples are “pussyfoot”, “pushover”,
“muckraker”, “ferryman” and “crankshaft.” Speakers of Esperanto are
free to put together not only short words but any morphemes whatsoever
in order to form new words. The only limitation is that they
must make sense. It has been said that word formation in Esperanto
is governed by logic. Word formation in English is governed
by an enormous number of arbitrary rules.
The Freedom to Create New Words by Combining Morphemes
Someone once asked, “How many words are there in Esperanto?”
The answer is “An indefinite number.” Because speakers
of Esperanto may combine the elements of the language in any way that
makes sense, they can freely create new words out of existing components
and be understood by people who never heard or saw those new words
before. Someone who has mastered just a thousand basic morphemes
of Esperanto can create tens of thousands of words from them.
Speakers of languages such as English and French do
not enjoy this enormous degree of freedom. Consider these English
words:
·
atheist
·
irregular
·
unnatural
·
nonsense
·
impossible
Suppose some newcomers to Esperanto wanted to express
these ideas. Suppose these students knew these concepts and
had words for them in their native language and suppose that they
knew the Esperanto for these morphemes: not, regular, God,
believe, natural, sense and possible. The students
could easily form these Esperanto counterparts and be instantly understood:
·
nediokredanto
·
nekutima
·
nenatura
·
nesencaĵo
·
neebla
Many Esperantists use ateisto for “atheist.”
However, the word that the student constructed, which literally means
not-god-believer, is a perfectly good Esperanto word and one
which everyone who knows some basic Esperanto will immediately understand.
Foreign students of English lack this freedom.
Suppose that a particular foreign student knows the English words:
regular, God, believe, natural, sense, possible. Suppose
further that this student has learned a number of different English
prefixes which are used to express the idea of “not.” These
prefixes include un as in “untrue”, ir as in
“irresistible”, im as in “immaterial” and
in as in inhumane. Suppose that this student freely
combines morphemes, using their correct meanings, and comes up with
these words:
·
irgodbeliever
·
unregular
·
imnatural
·
insense
·
unpossible
Even though these words are constructed logically out
of English morphemes, they are simply not permitted according to the
rules of the language. Foreign students have to laboriously
learn one at a time thousands of different possible combinations which
are permitted, and they must be very careful not to use those which
are not permitted for fear of risking censure, puzzled looks or even
laughter. Since many perfectly normal people do not like to
be laughed at, the threat of laughter can act as a powerful inhibiting
factor when it comes to practicing a foreign language in a real-life
situation.
Months of Hard Work
Complicated national languages such as English with
their tens of thousands of arbitrary rules are simply not suitable
for use as a universal auxiliary international language because, except
for the linguistically gifted, such languages cannot be learned in
a few months of hard work. Each of these languages has its own
difficulties, but all of them are so difficult that they require a
great many thousands of hours to master to the point where they can
be spoken and written comfortably and correctly, except for a very,
very few linguistic geniuses.
Those people who really become comfortable in a second
national language normally do so after spending a lot of time in a
country where that language is spoken. What often accompanies
this is that they become rusty in their native language.
For example, I once met a woman who spent her first
nine years in Belgium, where she was born, using French as her native
language, and then spent three years in Quebec where she continued
to use French. The family then moved to the United States.
Ever since she has used English. She speaks without a foreign
accent. However, when she sees a French film she has to use
the subtitles. When she and her mother speak on the telephone
they speak in English, not French.
I met an American teen-ager who had spent her junior
year in Austria. She had become fluent in German which she used
every day. But she found on returning to the United States that
she had to very frequently search for words. She spoke English
haltingly. After three weeks she had regained much of her English
and I am certain that after another three weeks she must have regained
full possession of her English. However, she might have lost
some of her fluency in German.
I know a professor who as a student spent a year in
Austria. He became fluent in German. Many years later
he was teaching physics in French in an African country where French
was the national language. German-speaking visitors arrived.
He had looked forward to speaking to them in German. He found
he could not converse with them in German.
For a great many people maintaining a national language,
even one’s native language, means constant practice because such languages
are very complex. Fluency, once lost, can be regained, but it
takes some time. Fluency in Esperanto once lst can also be regained
– in a small fraction of the time, as the experience of the woman
from Yugoslavia shows.
As a national language, English works magnificently.
People who grow up with the language and use it throughout their lives
master its intricacies and display that mastery without even having
to think about it. On the other hand, for the person who learns
English for occasional use as an auxiliary international
language, the complexities of English present an enormous superfluous
extra learning load. The other great unplanned languages also
work wonderfully as national languages, but they are also incredibly
difficult to learn as a second language, each for its own reasons.
English is used as an international language today
in a great many fields. When native speakers of English speak
their language as an international language they do beautifully.
People from some countries who have studied English for eight or twelve
years may also do very well, especially if their native language is
akin to English. However, in many cases, as has been said, the
international language used in discussions in international meetings
is broken English.
The freedom to put morphemes together to create new,
instantly recognizable words is one of the reasons why Esperanto is
learned by many individuals in a few months of diligent, serious study.
Before we delve more deeply into this powerful feature
of Esperanto, it is important to emphasize the uniqueness of each
language’s way of communicating ideas.
Languages are not Codes for Each Other
There are many individuals who suffer from the misconception
that other languages should be word-for-word equivalents for their
own. This misconception is based on the unstated assumption
that the words and expressions of a foreign language are or ought
to be one-for-one equivalents for the words and expressions of their
own language. Since the patterns of their own language are so
natural to them, it seems reasonable to assume that these familiar
patterns are natural to languages generally.
This is true for secret codes. Those who write
in a certain kind of code first think out their message in their own
language and then look up the equivalent for each word in a code book.
Then they write down those equivalents. If the code is a numerical
one they might come up with something like this: 0973 9145 3329 6728
6651 7159 4029 1182.
The recipient of the message in turn consults a code
book and turns the message back into regular words.
The problem is that anyone who tries that trick with
real languages will come up with laughter-provoking sentences.
The humorist Mark Twain made use of this. He
translated an item from a Mannheim Germany newspaper word-for-word
into English. This is the kind of English that he came up with:
In the daybeforeyesterdayshortlyaftereleveno’clock
Night, the inthistownstandingtavern called ‘The Wagoner’ was downburnt.
In German it is natural to use long compound words
that would look very strange in English, and Twain as a humorist exploited
this for laughs.
Humorists could have similar fun with Kivunjo, the
African language referred to earlier, where one complex word may do
the work of a six-word English sentence; or Japanese, where the verb
must always come at the end of the sentence, or any other foreign
language.
We could try Mark Twain’s trick with another language.
Here is a passage from the famous French novel, The Three Musketeers
by Alexandre Dumas:
D’Artagnan la releva en lui passant le bras autour
de la taille; mais comme il sentait à son poids qu’elle etait sur
le point de se trouver mal, il s’empressa de la rassurer par des protestations
de dévouement.
Here’s a Mark-Twainish word-for-word rendering of this
passage into English:
D’Artagnan her reraised in her passing the arm around
of the waist; but as he felt to her weight that she was on the point
of herself tofind bad, he himself hastened of her toreassure by ofthe
protestations of devotion.
A pattern of words that is perfectly natural in French,
which was used by one of the most successful French authors, is simply
ridiculous in English.
Of course a French humorist or a German humorist or
a Kivunjo humorist or a Japanese humorist could have the same kind
of fun by translating word-for-word some English sentence into their
language. The results would be just as laughter-provoking to
French or German or Kivunjo or Japanese ears.
Unlike the case with the secret code, languages are
not word-for-word equivalents for each other. Each language
must be taken on its own terms. A person’s mother tongue, whatever
it might be, is not the one true paradigm for understanding
the basic nature of language. No matter how dominant a language
might be in one country or even in many fields world-wide, it is just
one form of language out of the many thousands that have developed.
Languages become dominant in the world not because
they are learned easily but because of the dominance of the nations
whose national tongues they are.
Like other languages, Esperanto has its own ways of
expressing ideas. Esperanto sentences, like French or German
sentences, may sound odd when translated word-for-word into English.
In addition, when we analyze Esperanto words in terms of English morphemes,
the results may seem odd to English ears. This does not mean
that there is anything wrong with Esperanto or with English.
Languages just work differently.
A Sentence by a Nobel-Prize Winning Esperantist
With this in mind, let us see how the system of combining
morphemes to create new words works in practice. Let us consider
a sentence taken from an interview that was held in Esperanto.
In 1994 Professor Reinhard Selten of Germany became the first Esperantist
in many years to win a Nobel Prize when he shared the Nobel Memorial
Prize in Economics. Here he explains what his specialty, game
theory, is:
La ludo-teorio estas matekmatika teorio pri konflikto
kaj kunlaborado, en kiuj oni povas kunagadi, aŭ kontraŭi unu la alian,
aŭ samtempe, ambaŭ.
Game theory is a mathematical theory about conflict
and collaboration, in which you can act together or act against one
another, or, at the same time, both.
Now here is each Esperanto word followed by its
literal English meaning:
|
la
|
=
|
the
|
|
ludo-teorio
|
=
|
game-theory
|
|
estas
|
=
|
is
|
|
matematika
|
=
|
mathematical
|
|
teorio
|
=
|
theory
|
|
pri
|
=
|
about
|
|
konflikto
|
=
|
conflict
|
|
kaj
|
=
|
and
|
|
kunlaborado
|
=
|
with-working
|
|
en
|
=
|
in
|
|
kiuj
|
=
|
which (plural)
|
|
oni
|
=
|
one
|
|
povas
|
=
|
can
|
|
kunagadi
|
=
|
to-with-act
|
|
aŭ
|
=
|
or
|
|
kontraŭi
|
=
|
to-against
|
|
unu
|
=
|
one
|
|
alian
|
=
|
another (direct object)
|
|
samtempe
|
=
|
same-time-ly
|
|
ambaŭ
|
=
|
both
|
Putting these words together in the manner of Mark
Twain we come up with:
The game-theory is mathematical theory about conflict
and withworking, in which one can towithact or toagainst one another,
or sametimely both.
Analyzing this sentence can show us how Esperanto and
English behave differently from each other.
One difference between the two languages is in the
use of articles. In English we say “game theory” but in Esperanto
Selten said “la ludo-teorio” which is like saying “the game theory.”
On the other hand in English we speak of “a mathematical theory.”
Like Russian, Esperanto has no equivalent for a or an.
As has already been indicated, one of the purposes of a
is to indicate that a noun is coming up, and the noun-ending –o
does that little job in Esperanto.
Now let us look at some specific words that Professor
Selten used in this sentence which he spoke answering a question from
the interviewer.
Kunlaborado
Kunlaborado
is made up of four morphemes, kun, labor, ad and
o.
When foreign students of English learn the English
words “houseboat” and “boathouse” they learn to read them from right
to left. Thus a “houseboat” is a boat that serves
as a house, and a “boathouse” is a house for boats.
Let us read kunlaboro the same way. Here
are the four morphemes, right to left:
*
The ending –o makes the word a noun.
*
The morpheme –ad indicates duration, that a
process goes on for a while. (English does this with verbs by
using a form like “she was eating” instead of simply saying “she ate.”
Esperantists can add –ad to a verb to get this effect.
Esperantists can also add –ad to nouns and adverbs and adjectives
to get this effect.)
*
The morpheme labor means “work.”
*
The morpheme kun means “with.”
We come up with this: a noun that means “work with.”
(Sometimes morphemes like the English a or an or the
Esperanto ad are not translated.) Kunlaborado is similar
in structure to the English word “collaboration.” According to
Webster’s New World Dictionary, collaboration comes from
the Latin word collaboratus which is derived from two Latin
words com (simplified here to co) which means “with”
and labor which means “work.” The final morpheme ation
marks the word as a noun.
The difference here is that Esperanto speakers have
the right to combine kun and labor and o
simply because it makes sense. Students of English may not do
this with with and work and come up with withwork
or withworkation even though it would make sense. Instead
they are required to use “working together” or “collaboration.” As
has already been stressed, foreign students of English have to learn
which thousands of combinations of morphemes are permissible and which
thousands or tens or thousands or hundreds of thousands are not.
In Esperanto, as long as they make sense, this kind of combination
of morphemes is always permitted.
Kontaŭi
Kontraŭi
is made up of the adverbial root kontraŭ which
means “against” and the ending –i, which marks the infinitive
of a verb. Kontraŭi literally means “to against.”
The students of Esperanto are free to turn any word
into a noun, an adjective, an adverb or a verb by simply using the
appropriate ending for that kind of word.
Foreign students of English cannot say “to against”
even though this might make sense. They must remember to say
“to be against” or else use an entirely different word “to oppose”.
The student of Esperanto is also free to say esti
kontraŭ (to be against) simply because that too makes sense.
Kunagadi
Kunagadi
is made up out of four morphemes, three of which we already know.
The new morpheme, ag, means “act” in the sense
of doing something.
Reading kunagadi from right to left, we see
that it means “to continuously act with” or, as we would say in good
English, “to continuously act together.”
In this case a single Esperanto word is the equivalent
of a four-word English phrase.
Samtempe
Samtempe
has three morphemes. Sam means “same.”
Temp means “time.” The ending –e, like the English ending
–ly, marks a word as an adverb. We may read samtempe
to mean “sametimely.”
Foreign students of English may not use “sametimely”
but may choose between the prepositional phrase “at the same time”
or a word of Latin origin, “simultaneously.”
The Esperanto student can also say “at the same time”
je la sama tempo because it too makes sense.
Imagine if foreign students had these kinds of possibilities
available to them in English. It would make English much easier
for them. Of course, they do not have these possibilities.
This is just another reason why English is so terribly difficult for
them to master.
The Creative Pleasure of Combining Morphemes
Let us see how Esperantists use this feature of freely
combining morphemes to make their language interesting and colorful.
Here are some examples taken from one of Claude Piron’s detective
novels which he published under the pseudonym of Johan Valano:
1. altranguloj
|
alt
|
=
|
high
|
|
rang
|
=
|
rank
|
|
ul
|
=
|
person, guy
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
|
j
|
=
|
[plural marker]
|
So: altranguloj = “big shots” or “higher-ups.”
2. facilanime
|
facil
|
=
|
easy
|
|
anim
|
=
|
soul
|
|
e
|
=
|
[adverb marker]
|
So: facilanime = “with an easy soul” or, as the English
idiom as it, “with an easy heart.”
3. kunparolantino
|
kun
|
=
|
with
|
|
parol
|
=
|
speak
|
|
ant
|
=
|
one who
|
|
in
|
=
|
female
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
So: kunparolantino = “a female who is taking part in
a conversation or dialogue.”
Because Esperantists can freely create new words that
are instantly understood, the language is very rich in synonyms.
Here is a group of synonyms, all of which refer to some kind of comrade
or companion:
1. kamarado
|
kamarad
|
=
|
comrade, pal
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
2. kunulo
|
kun
|
=
|
with
|
|
ul
|
=
|
person, guy
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
Kunulo
means “companion”, someone who is with somebody.
3. kuniranto
|
kun
|
=
|
with
|
|
ir
|
=
|
go
|
|
ant
|
=
|
one who
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
|
Kuniranto
means a special kind of companion, someone who is going along with
someone else.
4. kunvojaĝanto
|
kun
|
=
|
with
|
|
vojaĝ
|
=
|
vojage, trip
|
|
ant
|
=
|
one who
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
Kunvojaĝanto
is someone who is taking a trip with someone else.
5. vojkunulo
|
voj
|
=
|
way, path
|
|
kun
|
=
|
with
|
|
ul
|
=
|
person,
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
Vojkunulo
is someone who is going along the same path or road or way with someone
else.
6. samsortulo
|
sam
|
=
|
same
|
|
sort
|
=
|
fate
|
|
ul
|
=
|
person
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
Samsortulo
is someone who shares the same fate as someone else.
Such compound words are instantly understandable because
they are made up of very common morphemes. Of course, no one
is required to use a whole lot of synonyms, but if the need is felt,
perhaps for literary purposes, to select among possible synonyms to
convey fine grades of meaning, the Esperanto system of freely combining
morphemes makes this possible without requiring the student to memorize
enormous numbers of individual words.
The words just given form part of a list of ten given
by Claude Piron. However, as Piron points out, many more possibilities
exist.
Here is one that comes to mind.
Kvankam Hitler kaj Stalin estis malamikoj, ili estis
samfarantoj.
Although Hitler and Stalin were enemies, they were
“samfarantoj.”
Now how can we translate this word, samfarantoj,
into English? The components are easy enough to understand:
|
sam
|
=
|
same
|
|
far
|
=
|
do
|
|
ant
|
=
|
one who
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
|
j
|
=
|
[plural marker]
|
The translation that comes to my mind is “people who
do the same kinds of things.” In English the sentence becomes:
Although Hitler and Stalin were enemies, they were
people who did the same kinds of things.
There are other ways of expressing this in English.
However, none of them that I can think of are as concise as samfarantoj.
When people speak and write their native language they
quite naturally create new sentences which never existed before.
Most of the words that Esperantists use are words that they have learned,
but at times they spontaneously create words that are new to them.
Here is an example:
In Lancaster, Pennsylvania we were finishing up a weekend
conference with a little picnic in a park. Little by little
people said good-by and left. At one point someone asked where
the person who had organized the conference was. I responded,
“Li altrajnigis la aliajn.” Three of these words are very easy to
translate into English:
|
li
|
=
|
he
|
|
la
|
=
|
the
|
|
aliajn
|
=
|
others (direct object)
|
The fourth word, altrajnigis , is more complex.
It means, “took to the train.” Here are its morphemes:
|
al
|
=
|
to
|
|
trajn
|
=
|
train
|
|
ig
|
=
|
cause
|
|
is
|
=
|
[past tense marker] in the past
|
In short, the sentence means “he caused to the train
the others” or, in good English, “he took the others to the train.”
Of course the English sentence “he took the others
to the train” works perfectly, and I could have made up an Esperanto
sentence with the equivalent words: “Li alportis la aliajn al la trajno.”
Because of the flexible nature of Esperanto I could
have expressed this idea in many other ways as well. Here is
one more:
“Li altrajne ŝoforis ilin” means “He totrainly
drove them.”
However, “Li altrajnigis la aliajn” just came out of
my mouth, just as the sentences that you speak in an ordinary conversation
just come out of your mouth. Esperanto is a very flexible language
with many different ways of expressing a thought so that speakers
or writers may select or devise the ones that works best according
to their taste. It is this multitude of possibilities that makes
it possible for students to be very expressive in Esperanto even though
they may know only about a thousand morphemes.
Let me conclude by indicating some words I recently
used in a little essay on the “soc.culture.esperanto” newsgroup of
the Internet:
1. retsendas
|
ret
|
=
|
network
|
|
send
|
=
|
send
|
|
as
|
=
|
[present tense]
|
Retsendas
means “send by means of the internet.”
2. retsendaĵo
|
ret
|
=
|
network
|
|
send
|
=
|
send
|
|
aĵ
|
=
|
specific thing, concrete thing
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
Retsendaĵo
means “something sent by means of the internet” (a posting on the
internet.)
3. enretigi
|
en
|
=
|
in
|
|
ret
|
=
|
network
|
|
ig
|
=
|
cause
|
|
i
|
=
|
[infinitive]
|
Enretigi
means “to put in the internet.” (In English we would
usually say “to put on the internet.” Different languages use prepositions
differently. This feature of languages is gone into in a later
chapter.)
4. nurangleleganto
|
nur
|
=
|
only
|
|
angl
|
=
|
English
|
|
e
|
=
|
[adverb marker]
|
|
leg
|
=
|
read
|
|
ant
|
=
|
one who
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
Nurangleleganto
means “someone who reads only English.”
5. informpetanto
|
inform
|
=
|
information
|
|
pet
|
=
|
request
|
|
ant
|
=
|
one who
|
|
o
|
=
|
[noun marker]
|
Informpetanto
means “someone who requests information.”
6. mondskalas
|
mond
|
=
|
world
|
|
skal
|
=
|
scale
|
|
as
|
=
|
[present tense]
|
Mondskalas
means “operates on a world-wide scale.”
I did not remember having seen any of these words before.
(Of course they all might have been used before.) The point is that
because I knew their component morphemes, I was able to spontaneously
come up with these words. Because of the rules of word-formation
in Esperanto I did not have to worry about checking through dictionaries
to see if the words were “good Esperanto” or not. As a speaker
of a language which was specifically designed to be easily learned
for international use, I have a right to make up such words.
The situation is quite different in English.
While writing an earlier part of this chapter the English word
illogicity came into my mind. After writing it down I wondered
if it was a valid English word. I knew my readers would understand
it, but I also knew that I had no right to use it unless it was an
established English word.
First I checked in an excellent college dictionary.
It was not there.
Then I looked in the Oxford English Dictionary.
This greatest of all English dictionaries told me that the Daily
Telegraph had used illogicity in 1886. It was an
established English word. I had the right to use it.
The same natural process which all competent English
speakers use when they speak their language is used by Esperantists
when they speak theirs. The difference is that the English speaker
only has the right to use this process freely in creating sentences.
The Esperantist also has the right to use this process in creating
new words.
In the last chapter we learned that native speakers
of English enjoy a vast array of idiomatic expressions with which
they can express their thoughts.
Those foreign students of English who have only several
hundreds of hours to devote to the study of the language can only
make use of a limited number of these expression. For this reason
and because of the other complexities of the language, most foreign
students can only hope to learn English to a rudimentary degree.
With a similar investment of time students of Esperanto
can become sophisticated users of the language because they enjoy
the freedom to create new, colorful, apt words out of whatever morphemes,
out of whatever “little words”, they choose to use.
Such students discover that Esperanto is a very expressive
language indeed.
Chapter Twelve
The Pattern-Making Power of the Human Mind
|