Lost in time

We are in 2019. To many of you it might just be another year, little different from 2018 or 2020. To me, however, 2019 is the year in which Blade Runner (1982) is set. I have numerous reasons to love that sci-fi masterpiece. To start with, it was the first film I ever saw in its original version in a cinema. It also has the very first movie lines I ever learnt by heart in English (the poignant Tears In Rain soliloquy). Besides, the themes in the film are truly powerful. What does it mean to be human? Is empathy exclusive to humans? What is the future of our planet? What is the value of memories? If by the end of the movie you have not reflected on your own mortality, you're probably way too young or there is something wrong with you. 

The thing is I came out of the movie theater emotionally drained. Soon I became obsessed with the film. It was like the Borgesian zahir. I simply couldn’t get it out of my mind. Seriously. I read countless books about it, saw as many documentaries as I could get my hands on and, of course, watched all five available versions of the film over and over again. I believe it is fair to say that I have turned into something of a Blade Runner aficionado. So… Why do I bring up this particular fixation of mine? Because the unit we are exploring (in the C1.1 course) deals precisely with memories. And memories happen to be a key element in Blade Runner.

Early in the movie Tyrell, the creator of the replicants, explains how memory implants allow him control his androids better since fake memories offer them "a cushion or pillow for their emotions". We also get to witness Rachael’s deep sadness when she learns that everything she remembers about her childhood is actually not real. And, of course, there’s the unforgettable final monolog. Sensing his imminent death Roy Batty, the last surviving replicant, delivers a moving 41-word speech in which he mentions some of the astonishing experiences he’s had in his short-lived existence. His conclusion is utterly devastating: “all those moments will be lost in time like tears in rain”. Kudos to actor Rutger Hauer, who came up with that line which hits us hard partly because, like Harrison Ford's Deckard, we are forced to see him die and because, as spectators, we are compelled to consider not only our impending mortality but also our own memories.

Just think about it. What would we be without memories? Isn’t that the greatest tragedy of suffering from Alzheimer’s disease? (You forget who you are) Who will remember us when we’re dead? That’s, by the way, a central theme in the Pixar movie Coco (2017). I’m afraid all our memories will certainly be lost in time… There's not much we can do about that. But for the time being, we can enjoy them, treasure them and talk about them. How do we do that?

Well, in class we have learnt quite a few expressions that may help us discuss our past. A smell, for instance, might take you back to your childhood. The taste of a particular dish might bring back fond memories. When you look back on your salad years you might realize how blissfully happy you were back then. So, even if those files will eventually vanish into the unfathomable vastness of the universe, it is undeniably true that, at least for a couple of decades, some of our experiences may be etched or seared into our memory.

Needless to say, I will soon return to Blade Runner. Today, however, let me conclude this rather lengthy post by sharing a video that combines the evocative power of words and the complexity of some people’s feelings about the past.

It was at the end of a class on Tuesday that I happened to mention John Koenig and his Dictionary of Obscures Sorrows, a thought-provoking website (and YouTube channel) that explains neologisms which Koening himself coins in order to capture otherwise unnamable emotions. I specifically referred to one of his most memorable concepts: nostalgia for a time you’ve never known. He calls it anemoia. Here’s his video for that delicate word. Enjoy.

N.B. One last thing. C1.1 students: The 280-word essay I asked you to write should discuss the question Has Google made us all stupid? and don't forget that the video you're supposed to tape (1-2 minutes) should discuss either of thsese topics: Is it alright to keep secrets? or Is the world better now than it was 50 years ago?

SCALES

I chose “scales” as the title for this post for a very simple reason. Anybody that has ever learnt to play a musical instrument properly knows how necessary it is to practice scales. It’s no secret that the workout regimen of ballet dancers involves performing repetitive movements for several hours a day. For obvious reasons the same can be said about martial arts practitioners. Yes. In order to integrate automatic moves one must (of necessity) resort to good old repetition. Now… I don’t know if excellence in any field requires 10,000 hours as Malcolm Gladwell suggests in his famous book Outliers but there is no denying that the key to success lies in the intensive practice of specific tasks: in the case of a guitarist or a pianist scales.

In the case of language instruction repetition has a name: drilling. It fell from grace when the "communicative language approach" took the world by storm in the 1970s. As I have often pointed out, this method has recently been called into question. I personally believe that it's been totally and completely debunked but let's not get into that. My point is that, regardless of its bad reputation, repetition is effective. That's how children learn to speak, by the way... So I decided to blog about this. I didn't know how, though.

I thought of the old wax-on-wax-off scene from the 80s classic Karate Kid but I believe some of you may consider it to be an archaeological relic so I decided to go in a different direction...

Below you can find a relatively recent BBC clip (uploaded in 2017) which offers some tips to English teachers willing to use drilling techniques. As you will see, the hosts have this infectious happy-go-lucky attitude that is so common among primary school teachers but don't panic their advice is sound and can be extremely useful for you. Notice how they casually mention the concept of “connected speech”, which is the holy grail of a genuine advanced speaker. Okay. I recommend that you try and repeat simple sentences, stock phrases or lexical chunks until they simply flow out of you. You can start with I can’t imagine what it must be like. Repeat it over and over again. Eventually you won’t know even what you’re saying. It works. Trust me.

The consequences of polarization

A few days ago I was having lunch with my dear friend Simon, who happens to be a senior content strategist as well as a financial writer and editor with a prestigious British firm. Given the fact that he is gorgeously articulate and considering our commons interests it should come as no surprise that we soon found ourselves discussing the current political climate in the English-speaking world (the Canadian controversy involving professor Jordan Peterson, the troubles of the Trump administration and, of course, the messy Brexit negotiations). It was in the context of that conversation that I learnt about a new trend which appears to be shaping the political debate in the UK... something that may actually affect the very language you are studying.

I have often told you how the devil is in the details. Indeed that old proverb is particularly apt when it comes to describing the process of learning a foreign language to a high standard. As you know, the advanced level consists of thousands of tiny little factors that ultimately make it all sound complex, nuanced and natural. One of the most resilient features of the kind of English that Spanish students show in a C1 class, though, has to do with the way they frame their thoughts. I have made no bones about my stance regarding the Spanish proclivity to dispense with all those filters that may soften the impact of a blunt statement. Remember the difference between the sentences below:

I think you should see a doctor about that nose

Vete al médico, que esa nariz tiene mala pinta

The two "softeners" (i.e. I think and you should) offer a stark contrast to the terseness of a direct order (vete). Many English speakers tend to express uncertainty and usually voice their opinions with a certain degree of caution (I suppose that...). You may argue that every culture/language expresses politeness and caution in different ways and that is absolutely true. However, the one thing we cannot afford to do is to extrapolate those Spanish quirks to the way we express ourselves in a second language. Certain turns of phrase that are perfectly acceptable in Spanish may come across as belligerent, rude or just simplistic in English, which is why I have tirelessly stressed the importance of expressions such as it seems to be, it might be, etc. instead of resorting to good old it is. Also I have often explained that a speaker who is always one hundred percent sure about everything they say sounds like someone that doesn't even consider the possibility that they might ever be wrong. The problem with such speakers is that they are not exactly open to being convinced. So an unavoidable question arises: why should we try and exchange ideas with a person who cannot possibly be persuaded?

I mention all this because, as Simon informed me, the healthy respectful approach to expressing opinions is also under threat in the United Kingdom. Apparently, whilst many native English speakers still use phrases like I suspect, I dare say, from what I can gather, that may be the case, etc. the current political discourse is becoming increasingly "Spanish". So I asked him to summarize his personal take regarding this subject in the video below. Notice how he says that this change is happening "to some extent" due to the polarization of the public debate. Isn't it sad how politics affect language usage?

N.B. C1.1 students: we will do the first listening exercise for the progress report on Wednesday in Laredo and on Thursday in Castro.