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XA English

Where English can serve but not empower

Although South Africa's language policy is in crisis, multilingualism must be defended, says Neville Alexander.

South Africa's schools should be using the home language of their students as the medium of instruction. This multilingual approach to education was made law in 1997, and is intended, among other things, to modernise the African languages for routine use in high-status functions. But two fundamental obstacles are standing in the way of this policy. One is a crisis in resources and infrastructure, and the other is a lack of political will on the part of the elite.The result is that by default English (as elsewhere in Africa) is becoming the de facto official language and the only language of teaching and learning. So why should South Africa defend and implement its multilingual language policy, and not give way to an English-only or English-mainly policy?English is currently the dominant language of teaching in South Africa. Indeed for most children from an African-language background almost all education after the first three years of schooling is in English.Equally important is the fact that most schools are staffed by second- or third-language speakers of English, many of whom are not proficient enough in English to serve as good models for their students. There is little doubt that the language issue is one of the main factors explaining the disastrous drop-out and failure rates, which affect mainly black students.The 1997 policy was intended to sustain the home language throughout the educational career of the learner, preferably as a medium, but in any case as a subject. In practice, however, it is not possible for children from an African-language background to receive instruction through the medium of their home language beyond Grade 3 or 4.In fact one of the ineffable ironies of the new South Africa is that the only children who have mother-tongue education (L1-medium) are precisely those who have been advantaged in most other respects in the course of South Africa's history: English- and most Afrikaans-speaking children.Before the first non-racial elections in April 1994 most people assumed that English would become the only, or at least the main language of teaching in educational institutions. This was, after all, what had happened in virtually all ex-colonial African countries in the English sphere of interest. Namibia is the latest example.The dialectic of South African history, however, ordained otherwise. Because of the passionate commitment of white Afrikaans-speaking South Africans to their language, their political representatives during the negotiation process in the early 90s insisted on the continued equality of Afrikaans with English as a condition for ceding office to the representatives of the liberation movement. These, in turn, for obvious political reasons could not concede to Afrikaans what they did not also give to the indigenous languages. Hence, the 11 official languages of the new South Africa.It should come as no surprise that all South Africans agree about the need for English as the second language, mainly because it is so obviously the key to economic empowerment. Yet for as long as the vast majority of people are not proficient in English, and without the promotion of multilingualism and the equitable treatment of all languages, democracy will remain a sham. This is so because most people would have to conduct all their important affairs, as they do at present, in a language they barely understand.An English-only, or even an English-mainly, policy necessarily condemns most people, and thus the country as a whole, to a permanent state of mediocrity, since people are unable to be spontaneous, creative and self-confident if they cannot use their first language.Even more important, however, is the fact that economic development, which in the modern world is dependent on high levels of scientific and technological know-how, will continue to be stymied because the English-knowing layer from which the expertise can be recruited will continue to be very thin.To argue that a policy of multilingualism is too "costly" to implement is disingenuous at worst and ill-informed and unexplored at best. On principle any polity has to be prepared to invest in the necessary infrastructure in those economic and social domains where it may have a comparative disadvantage. If it is a country where water resources are scarce, then boreholes, desalination plants and other equipment have to be invested in. If there are many languages, then investment has to be made in the different ways and means available for the facilitation of communication among the people of the country.In our case such investment can either be directed towards the goal of making English the lingua franca of the entire population in the short term (despite the negative experience in this regard in most of the rest of Africa) or towards multilingual proficiency, or towards both. The official language policy in education promotes this third option.It follows, then, that a system of bilingual education is an essential transitional strategy towards the normalisation of education, until the situation is reached where English is learned by most children as a subject at school rather than as an ineffectual medium of learning in general. But elitist policy orientations, the lack of political will and bureaucratic inertia have tended to promote the first option in practice.These, then, are the factors that have to be resolved in the equation of language medium policy in South African education. In most schools there is no doubt that the basic principle of additive bilingualism sustaining the home language (L1) as a medium, and, if this is impossible, as a subject ? is the best way forward.Besides the findings of international research about the desirability and effectiveness of L1-medium education, the most recent authoritative language survey (commissioned by the Pan South African Language Board) tilts the balance in favour of the advocates of bilingual and "mother-tongue" education, even if on the surface this would appear to buck the global trend.Those of us who advocate bilingual education as an inescapable transitional strategy - which may, however, become the global norm because of the imperatives of globalisation - and of mother-tongue education as the most effective approach to education in most situations have the South African constitution as well as the official language policy in education on our side. If this approach is combined with effective L2 - in practice English-language teaching -, in the longer term the "problem" will disappear, and our many languages will be seen for what they are: national resources, which are to be managed for the benefit of all citizens of South Africa.
This article first appeared in the December 14, 2000 edition of Learning English, the Guardian Weekly's English language teaching supplement.© Guardian Weekly.

Weaving a Web of linguistic diversity

David Crystal explains how the internet is turning out to be a friend to all the world's languages

The global English debate
The World Wide Web is an eclectic medium, holding a mirror up to our linguistic nature. Not only does it offer a home to all linguistic styles within a language; it offers a home to all languages - once their communities have a functioning computer technology. And its increasingly multilingual character has been the most notable change since it started out as a totally English medium.
For many people the language of the internet is English. 'World, Wide, Web: three English words' was the headline of a piece by Michael Specter in the New York Times a few years ago. The article went on to comment: 'If you want to take full advantage of the internet there is only one real way to do it: learn English.'
Specter did acknowledge the arrival of other languages: 'As the Web grows, the number of people on it who speak French, say, or Russian will become more varied and that variety will be expressed on the Web. That is why it is a fundamentally democratic technology. But it won't necessarily happen soon.'
The evidence is growing that this conclusion was wrong. With the internet’s globalisation the presence of other languages has steadily risen. By the mid-90s a widely quoted figure was that about 80% of the Net was in English - a figure supported by the first big study of language distribution on the internet, carried out in 1997 by Babel, a joint initiative of the Internet Society and Alis Technologies. This showed English well ahead, but with several other languages - notably German, Japanese, French and Spanish - entering the ring.
Since then the estimates for English have been falling, with some commentators predicting that before long the Web (and the internet as a whole) will be predominantly non-English, as communications infrastructure develops in Europe, Asia, Africa and South America. A Global Reach survey has estimated that people with internet access in non-English-speaking countries increased from 7m to 136m between 1995 and 2000. In 1998 the total number of new non-English websites passed the number of new English websites.
At a conference on search engine strategies last April, Alta Vista was predicting that by next year less than half of the Web would be in English. English-language author David Graddol has predicted an even lower figure in due course, 40%. In parts of the world the local language is already dominant. According to the Japanese internet author Yoshi Mikami, 90% of Web pages in Japan are now in Japanese.
The Web is increasingly reflecting the distribution of language presence in the real world, and many sites provide the evidence. They range from individual businesses doing their best to present a multilingual identity to big sites collecting data on many languages. Under the first heading we encounter such newspapers as the Belgian daily Le Soir, which is represented by six languages - French, Dutch, English, German, Italian and Spanish. Under the latter heading we find such sites as the University of Oregon Font Archive, providing 112 fonts in its archives for more than 40 languages.
A World Language Resources site lists products for 728 languages. An African resource list covers several local languages; Yoruba, for example, is illustrated by some 5,000 words, along with proverbs, naming patterns and greetings. Another site deals with 87 European minority languages. Some sites are small in content, but extensive in range: one gives the Lord's Prayer in nearly 500 languages.
Nobody has yet worked out just how many languages have obtained a modicum of presence on the Web. I have found more than 1,000. It is not difficult to find evidence of a Net presence for the vast majority of the more frequently used languages, and for a large number of minority languages too. I would guess that about a quarter of the world's languages have some sort of internet presence.
In all these examples we are encountering language presence in a real sense. These are not sites that only analyse or talk about languages; they allow us to see languages as they are. In many cases, the total Web presence, in terms of number of pages, is small. The crucial point is that the languages are out there, even if represented by only a sprinkling of sites. It is the ideal medium for minority languages, given the relative cheapness and ease of creating a Web page, compared with the costs of print, TV or radio.
However, developing a significant cyber-presence is not easy. Until a critical mass of internet penetration in a country builds up, and a corresponding mass of content exists in the local language, the motivation to switch from English-language sites will be limited to those for whom issues of identity outweigh issues of information. The future is also dependent on the levels of English-speaking ability in individual countries, and the further growth in those levels.
There are also practical problems, though a great deal has been done since the mid-90s to address them. First, the Ascii character set still fails to adequately support the array of letter shapes in Arabic, Hindi, Chinese, Korean and the many other languages in the world that do not use the Latin alphabet. The Unicode coding system, the alternative to Ascii, allows more than 65,000 characters; but the implementation of this system is still in its infancy. The Web consortium has an internationalisation activity looking specifically at different alphabets, so that operating systems can support a page in any alphabet.
The future looks good for Web multilingualism. As Ned Thomas commented last year in an editorial for Contact, the bulletin of the European Bureau of Lesser Used Languages: 'It is not the case . . . that all languages will be marginalised on the Net by English. On the contrary, there will be a great demand for multilingual websites, for multilingual data retrieval, for machine translation, for voice recognition systems to be multilingual.'
And Tyler Chambers, the creator of various Web language projects, agrees: 'The future of the internet is even more multilingualism and cross-cultural exploration and understanding than we've already seen.'
I agree. The Web offers a World Wide Welcome for global linguistic diversity.
This article first appeared in the January 25, 2001 edition of Learning English, the Guardian Weekly's English language teaching supplement.© Guardian Weekly.

David Crystal

English as an Asian language

It is time for East and Southeast Asia to learn its own version of English, argues Andy Kirkpatrick

It is impossible to identify and isolate an "English" culture that is common to all speakers of English. The cultures represented by Nigerian, Singaporean, Indian, Scottish, Filipino or Australian Aboriginal English are all very different. So, while a language must be linked to a culture, a language is not inextricably tied to one specific culture. Specific cultural identities can be represented by new varieties of English.
In East and Southeast Asia English plays a major role in the region as a lingua franca of the political elite and the Association of Southast Asian Nations. It is also used as a lingua franca between professionals and the business community.
But what variety of English will serve as the region's lingua franca? I suggest that a variety which reflects local cultural conventions and pragmatic norms is developing to serve this role. I further suggest that it is this regional variety that will be taught in schools, rather than an external "native speaker" variety.
The vast majority of people who are learning English are doing so to be able to use this lingua franca. They are not learning English with the express purpose of communicating with native speakers of English. English is being used by non-native speakers with other non-native speakers. The English that they use need not therefore reflect any "Anglo" cultural values. This emerging role of English was identified by Gordon Wu of Hong Kong's Hopewell Holdings, who told the Far Eastern Economic Review: "English is no longer some colonial language. It is the means [by which] we in Asia communicate with the world and one another."
So regional users of English who are learning English in order to speak to Thais, Koreans, Vietnamese or Japanese do not need teaching materials that promote or discuss "Anglo" cultures. What they need are materials that provide some knowledge of the culture of the people they are dealing with. They also need to be aware of their own cultural norms. The cultural values and daily lives of the people in the region who are using English as a regional lingua franca become more important than the cultural values associated with native speakers.
This has important implications for English language teaching in the region's schools. It is a regional variety of English, not an external model, that needs to be promoted, because it is a regional variety of English that people in the region will want to use. People will be able to maintain their identity while speaking their variety of English. As Tommy Koh, a senior minister in the Singapore government, put it recently, "When I speak English I want the world to know I'm a Singaporean."
The curriculum of a new variety of English should reflect the lives, cultures and values of the learners. Speakers of this new variety will want to preserve their identity by reflecting that identity in the local variety of English they use.
English language teaching materials are needed that promote the local or regional variety and represent the cultures of the speakers of these newly developing varieties. These materials also need to contrast regional cultures, so making the English language curriculum more a curriculum of regional cultures.
This will not only liberate generations of Asian children who have had to learn how to ask what time the next train to Liverpool Street leaves, but will also alter the nature of what represents an authentic text. Japan's current English teaching goals are that learners should become American English speakers. This is unrealistic and damaging to the cause of ELT. Students are fearful of speaking, because they falsely consider themselves to be poor speakers unless they sound like Americans. However, if students were given a regional variety of English to learn, educated speakers of the regional variety could provide the models. Suitably qualified and trained speakers of the regional variety could be the teachers. External models could, of course, be introduced into the classroom, but as examples of external models, not as the model that the learners are expected to acquire.
More research into the development of varieties of English is urgently needed. In particular we need to know what cultural and discourse conventions are being reflected in these new varieties. For example, are compliments being given and received, or requests made, following local cultural values, or following "Anglo" values? Are topics in conversation being broached directly or indirectly? The worldwide domination of an "Anglo" variety of English is not inevitable.
A regional variety of English can reflect local or regional cultures. Governments need not fear that the learning of English will necessarily imbue the learners with inappropriate cultural values or ways of thinking. The best option for regional governments is to promote local varieties of English. Instead of spending large sums of money on importing native-speaking teachers and externally developed materials, funding should be set aside for the professional development of local teachers and for the development of developing regionally appropriate ELT curricula.

Murder that is a threat to survival

Biodiversity cannot be protected unless language genocide is halted, argues Tove Skutnabb-Kangas

Habitat destruction through logging, the spread of agriculture and use of pesticides, and the economic and political vulnerability of the people who live in the world's most diverse ecoregions are recognised as the main causes of the disappearance of biodiversity. What is less widely understood is the link between diminishing global biodiversity and the disappearance of languages. While new trees can be planted and habitats restored, it is much more difficult to restore languages once they have been murdered. And languages are being murdered today faster than ever before in human history. Even the most optimistic prognoses claim that only half of today's 6,000-7,000 spoken languages will exist by 2100. The media and educational systems are the most important direct agents in language murder today.
Most of the world's languages are spoken by relatively few people; the median number of speakers of a language is probably 5,000-6,000. There are fewer than 300 languages with more than 1m native users; half of all languages have fewer than 10,000 users, and a quarter of the world's spoken languages and most of the sign languages have fewer than 1,000 users. More than 80% of the world's languages exist in one country only.
A simple comparison, based on numbers and extinction rates, shows that linguistic diversity (LD) is disappearing relatively much faster than biodiversity (BD). Optimistic estimates claim that 2% of biological species but 50% of languages may be dead or moribund ? no longer learned by children ? in 100 years' time. According to pessimistic but realistic estimates, 20% of biological species but 90% of languages may be dead or moribund in 100 years. People might say: so what? It might be better for world peace if we all speak a few big languages and understand each other. But language diversity is decisive for the future of the planet. LD and BD are correlated: where one type is high, the other one is too, and vice versa, even if there are exceptions. David Harmon of Terralingua, an international non-profit organisation devoted to preserving the world's linguistic diversity, has compared the 25 countries that have the most endemic languages with the 25 that have the most higher vertebrates. Sixteen countries (64%) are on both lists. According to Harmon, "it is very unlikely that this would only be accidental". He gets the same results with flowering plants and languages, butterflies and languages ? a high correlation between countries with biological and linguistic megadiversity.
New research shows mounting evidence that the relationship may also be causal: the two types of diversities seem to enforce and support each other. According to a recent United Nations environmental programme report, threatened languages store the knowledge about how to maintain and use sustainably some of the most vulnerable and most biologically diverse environments in the world. It has taken centuries for people to learn about their environments and to name the complex ecological relationships that are decisive for maintenance of biodiversity. When indigenous peoples lose their languages, much of this knowledge also disappears: the dominant languages do not have the ethno-biological and ethno-medical vocabulary, and the stories will not be translated.
If the long-lasting co-evolution that people have had with their environments is suddenly disrupted, without nature (and people) having enough time to adjust and adapt, we can expect a catastrophe. If during the next 100 years we murder up to 90% of the linguistic (and thereby mostly also the cultural) diversity that is our treasury of this historically developed ecological knowledge, we are also seriously undermining our chances of life on Earth.
Like the loss of BD, the loss of LD is dangerous reductionism. As we see in increasingly dramatic ways, such as the spread of species that are more resistant to antibiotics and herbicides, monocultures are vulnerable. The potential for the new lateral thinking that might save us from ourselves in time lies in having as many and as diverse languages and cultures as possible. We do not know which ones have the right medicine. For this, multilingualism is necessary. Indigenous and minority people need to have a chance to maintain their own languages and learn dominant languages.
But instead of fostering and supporting multilingualism through the education system, schools participate in linguistic genocide, as it has been defined in the United Nations Genocide Convention (Articles IIb and IIe and its Final Draft Article III1). Pirjo Janulf shows in a recent study that of those Finnish immigrant minority members in Sweden who had had Swedish-medium education, not one spoke any Finnish to his or her own children. Even if these adults might not have forgotten their Finnish completely, their children were forcibly transferred to the majority group, at least linguistically.
This is what happens to millions of speakers of threatened languages all over the world. There are no schools or classes teaching through the medium of the threatened indigenous or minority languages. The transfer to the majority language group is not voluntary: alternatives do not exist, and parents do not have enough reliable information about the long-term consequences of the various choices. There is also a wealth of research and statistics about the mental harm that forced assimilation causes in education and other areas.
To stop linguistic genocide, linguistic human rights in education need to be respected. The most important linguistic human right for maintenance of LD is the right to mother-tongue medium education. But the existing and draft human rights instruments are completely insufficient in protecting linguistic human rights in education. When speakers of small languages learn other, necessary, languages in addition to their native languages, they become multilingual, and the maintenance of LD, necessary for the planet, is supported. When dominant languages such as English are learned subtractively, at the cost of the mother tongues, they become killer languages. The task for users of English is to stop it being a killer language and change it to an additive asset.
This article first appeared in the March 22, 2001 edition of Learning English, the Guardian Weekly's English language teaching supplement.© Guardian Weekly.

English yes, but equal language rights first

Robert Phillipson argues that the European Union's bid to create unity will remain an ideal without a better policy on languages.

The 11 official languages of the 15 member states of the European Union have equal rights. These languages are Danish, Dutch, English, Finnish, French, German, Greek, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, Swedish. The languages of each member state are official and working languages of the European Parliament and the Commission in Brussels.
Since there has never been a close fit between language and state in Europe, three of Belgium's languages are in use, Dutch, French and German, and two of Finland's, Finnish and Swedish, whereas the only language from Spain is Spanish, even though there are more speakers of Catalan than of Danish or Finnish. Demography is less important than political clout, nationally and internationally. Many languages in Europe have no EU rights.
EU languages permeate the ongoing processes of creating a "union" of EU states, a new supra-national economic and political entity. Language is a sensitive political issue, as it is a profound symbol of national and personal identity. As language, culture and education are in principle matters for individual member states rather than the Union, language policy at the supra-national level is largely implicit and covert. As some languages are more "international" than others the equality of the 11 languages has in fact always been a myth.
The existing rights to translation are essential, because documents emanating from Brussels have the force of law in member states, overriding national legislation. The right to an interpreter is often restricted, except for senior politicians and Members of the European Parliament. Working documents are seldom available in all 11 languages. In 1970, 60% of texts in the Commission were initially drafted in French, and 40% in German. In 1989 the figures were French 50%, German 9%, and English 30%. By 1997 the figures were French 40% and English 45%, leaving only a sprinkling in other languages. In external communication, English is generally used. These figures reveal the de facto hierarchy of languages in Brussels and Strasbourg. English has gradually eroded the monopoly of French. Ironically enough this has happened during a period when successive British governments have kept "Europe" at arm's length. The language policies of EU institutions are influenced by many factors, the most important of which is globalisation. The advance of English reflects American commercial, political and military might, and the impact of Hollywood, CNN and McDonald's. The British have always been keen to capitalise on English as a strategic and commercial asset. English is the most widely learned foreign language in Europe, because Britain's partners recognise it as is a necessary communicative tool. In reality English is no longer a foreign language in several member states. It is widely used internally in many fields, and increasingly as the corporate language of big business. It is a fact of working and social life for many EU citizens. The market forces that are propelling English forward impact on the vitality and viability of other languages. English is capturing some of their territory, despite EU treaties and summit meetings proclaiming a commitment to diversity. The Amsterdam Treaty, Article 128.4 reads: "The Community shall take cultural aspects into account in its action under the provisions of this Treaty, in particular in order to respect and to promote the diversity of its cultures". The Nice summit acted on this to approve a programme to strengthen the European film industry. In several member states there are voices protesting against Americanisation and cultural and linguistic homogenisation. Ulrich Ammon has recently written a book exploring whether German, the leading language of the natural sciences a century ago, can still be considered a language of science. The Norwegian Minister of Transport has protested about the website the SAS airline, which has the three Scandinavian governments as majority shareholders, being exclusively in English. The Swedish government recently commissioned a major survey of Swedish in all key domains in Sweden and in European Union institutions. The study documents how English is taking over from Swedish. Work is now under way to ensure that Swedish remains a "complete" language. Investigations of domain loss to English in all the Nordic languages are currently being commissioned. Several countries are thus following in the steps of the French in registering that the advance of English is a problem, and identifying strategies to strengthen local languages. No-one is suggesting that English should not be effectively learned and used, but policy should ensure that people learn and use English in addition to other languages rather than at their expense. Language policy ought to be taken seriously because it is likely that big business is doing so. A recent doctoral study in international law in the United States concludes that French language protection measures are in conflict with the principle of a common market with free movement of goods, services, labour and capital. Such an interpretation could soon lead corporate lawyers to challenge national language legislation, and demand an English-only market throughout the EU. Countries applying for EU membership have probably assumed that their languages will have the same rights as other official languages. This is most unlikely, since the present interpretation and translation services are ineffective, and will be even more unworkable when new states join the EU. There needs to be a re-think of attitudes. Scoffing at French efforts to shore up French is myopic. If native speakers of French and English can use their mother tongues, how can one ensure equivalent rights for others? What is urgently needed is clarification of the criteria that should guide an equitable language policy, and mechanisms that permit real equality of communication between speakers of different languages. We need imaginative and realistic scenarios. We need to see a coming together of the relevant constituencies in the political, business, academic, cultural and human rights worlds. There is a need for hard-nosed analysis of how to ensure efficient, cost effective and democratic strategies for increased multilingualism. In this way English can be appropriated without other languages being marginalised

A stateless language that Europe must embrace
English is already Europe's lingua franca and it's time for politicians and educators to acknowledge this, argues Juliane House.
The language policy in the European Union is both ineffective and hypocritical, and its ideas of linguistic equality and multilingualism are costly and cumbersome illusions. Why have these illusions been kept up for so long? First, because the French with their traditionally superior position in Europe cannot accept the decline of their own linguistic power, second, because the politically-correct ideologies of some sociolinguists constantly fuel opposition against the idea of English as a European lingua franca and third, because powerful translators' lobbies fight for their raison d'ˆtre. In the name of the high ideal of linguistic equality a time-consuming, expensive and increasingly intractable translation machinery is maintained that is doing its best to translate the illusion of equality into illusions of multilingualism and translatability.
The translations produced in the world's largest translation bureau are taken as tokens for equality: what counts is that they exist, not what they are like - many EU officials doubt their accuracy and openly prefer to read the more reliable English and French originals. Also, the supposed linguistic equality in the EU is a relative one: some languages are more clearly more equal than others, and minority languages inside the member states do not count at all.
The EU's ostensible multilingualism sets it apart from other international organisations. Instead of having opted for a "workable" number of working languages, all the official languages of the member states were given equal status. For a smooth functioning of the EU institutions, however, whose legislation ordinary people do not understand anyway, the use of English as a lingua franca would be infinitely better.
English is particularly suitable as Europe's lingua franca because of its functional flexibility and spread across the world, and because English is already "de-nativised" to a large extent: the global number of non-native speakers is now substantially larger than its native speakers (about 4:1). English is no longer "owned" by its native speakers because acculturation and nativisation processes have produced a remarkable diversification of the English language into many non-native varieties.
The point is that we can no longer say that English is one monolithic, "hegemonic" voice, it is a diversity of different voices. True, there may still be attempts by "inner circle" English native speakers to perpetuate old dichotomies of "us and them", of one-way translation avenues, of controlling access to professional organisations and publications. But this has nothing to do with the English language itself, which is neutral. Such imbalance simply reflects unequal power resulting from differences in social, economic, political, or scientific conditions.
The multiplicity of voices behind English as a lingua franca implies that differences in interactional norms between speakers using English as a language for communication remain unaltered. And it is this deep diversity in the use of English by speakers with different mother tongues which invalidates the claim that English is an imperialist adversary, an eliminating "killer language" - which English, we may ask?
Is it those localised, regionalised or otherwise appropriated varieties of English whose speakers creatively conduct pragmatic and cultural shifts? Surely not. Arguments such as the ones brought forward by the anti-English league are simply outdated. The Empire has struck back already. Non-native speakers of English have created their own discourse norms and genres. And they do this out of their own free will, happily ignoring the "linguistic domination" ascribed to them. In other words there is no didactic-linguistic replay of formerly colonial and militaristic means.
But might not the use of English also change other European languages to the point of gradually destroying their identities? Is English maybe already "colonising" structural and discourse conventions in other European languages? Not at all. Research funded by the German Research Foundation has shown that German, Spanish and French texts resulting from multilingual text production are not influenced by the English language on these levels. And another research project investigating the nature of interactions in English between speakers of different European languages has revealed differences in culture-conditioned ways of interacting, which, however, do not lead to misunderstanding.
English as a lingua franca is nothing more than a useful tool: it is a "language for communication", a medium that is given substance with the different national, regional, local and individual cultural identities its speakers bring to it. English itself does not carry such identities, it is not a "language for identification". And because of the variety of functional uses of global English, English has also a great potential for promoting international understanding. Its different speakers must always work out a common behavioural and intercultural basis.
Paradox as this may seem, the very spread of English can motivate speakers of other languages to insist on their own local language for identification, for binding them emotionally to their own cultural and historical tradition. There is no need to set up an old-fashioned dichotomy between local languages and English as the "hegemonic aggressor": there is a place for both, because they fulfil different functions. To deny this is to uphold outdated concepts of monolingual societies and individuals.
German speakers, for instance, keep their national language and regional varieties for identification while simultaneously benefiting from using English to establish "imagined communities" in science, economics, etc. for pockets of expertise.
In western Germany in particular, English has been widely accepted as a language for communication since 1945 - not least because the Anglo-Saxon countries served as models of democracy helping people to forget their own past. And a recent survey of German teachers' attitudes to English revealed unanimous support for using English as a lingua franca in Europe, no one thought English destroyed their mother tongue's identity, no one felt that communicating in English led to inequality between speakers of English and speakers of different languages.
Using English as a lingua franca in Europe does not inhibit linguistic diversity, and it unites more than it divides, simply because it may be "owned" by all Europeans - not as a cultural symbol, but a means of enabling understanding.

Minority voices show strong instinct for survival
John Walsh explains how the best protection for 'small' languages in Europe lies in evaluating their economic strengthsThe debate about dominant and dominated languages in Europe concentrates almost exclusively on the position of English versus the 10 other official languages. Yet the simplistic claim that English - the "international shark" as one commentator has dramatically called it - is about to devour other state languages, ignores a far more diverse tapestry of linguistic diversity. According to the Brussels-based European Bureau for Lesser Used Languages, about 40m people in Europe speak a language other than the dominant language of the country where they reside. These languages range in strength from the Catalan pike, with about 7m speakers, to the minnow of Saterfrisian, a minority language in Germany spoken by about 2,000 people. In between are more than 60 other language minorities, each finding itself in entirely different circumstances and faced with its own specific predator.
Basques in the south of France are concerned at the continuing refusal of the French government to grant their language adequate protection in education and the media. An island in a sea of Dutch, Frisians have been shocked by a recent study revealing poor standards of teaching their languages in schools. Slovenes in the southern Austrian province of Carinthia are alarmed at government cutbacks which threaten to close bilingual Slovene-German radio stations. In the Italian minority region of Slovenia, the Italian parts of bilingual roadsigns were recently painted over. No-one replaced Italian with English. English is not the main concern of these minorities.
Yet despite these examples, it is not the case that all minority languages across Europe are being swallowed up by their own national sharks. The recent establishment of a bilingual private Breton-French television station was a kick in the teeth to those on the French right who have fought, as far as constitutional level, against recognition of minority languages in France. Linguistic minorities in Italy have had a good year, with far-reaching national legislation allowing them to finally begin consolidating their education and media. Protection of minorities in the Danish-German border region is conducted on the basis of international reciprocal agreements between both countries. And the European Bureau for Lesser Used Languages brings together representatives of all minorities three times a year to exchange experiences and to press the EU for funding and recognition. This does not mean, however, that minority language communities are ignorant about the dominance of English, oblivious to anything other than their own regional struggles. Notwithstanding their problems with education, the Frisians last year began a pilot project dividing primary school hours between their own language, Dutch and English. A similar project was recently launched in the Basque Country with equal emphasis on Basque, Spanish and English. And in Luxembourg, English is indeed the first foreign language taught to schoolchildren, but not before they master Luxembourgish, French and German. This latter point is worth making because it underlines another important element of the dynamic. Speakers of minority languages cannot afford to be against learning the dominant language surrounding them. They have no choice in the matter, as this language is essential for communication with their neighbours, sometimes literally in the next house. This does not mean, however, that they should discard their native language as if it were an impediment to progress. It is true that this has happened, dramatically in the case of Ireland, and still continues to happen in some of the smaller minorities. But acquisition of English or any other dominant language does not have to occur at the expense of the language of the home or community. Most theorists agree that language remains the primary identity marker. The slow yet perceptible development of academic theories exploring the links between identity, language and socio-economic development is becoming another important support mechanism for minority language communities. The Brussels-based Research Centre on Multilingualism has recently urged the development of "econolinguistics", a new academic discipline linking multilingualism and economic development. The centre's research could also point towards ways of developing an equitable language policy at EU level. It suggests the development of a language policy based on the same compensatory principles already used in agricultural and regional economic policies. This would form the basis of an EU programme for all languages with limited geographical bases or facing other threats to their future vitality (which could, of course, include "smaller" languages such as Danish or Finnish). The central planks of such a programme would be: positive discrimination, such as providing financial support for producing materials or training personnel in the language; decentralisation, to allow enhanced use of the language at local level; and the overall promotion of multilingualism where no language is developed at the expense of another. Such a suggestion could help overcome the current narrow debate about the future of official languages in an enlarged Union.
Finally, to an issue which is increasingly gaining attention in the language debate, but with which EU leaders are showing little enthusiasm to engage: languages of immigrant communities. Most of the discourse about lesser-used languages focuses solely on indigenous or autochthonous minorities, referred to in some states as "national minorities". In a country such as Germany, where Turks far outnumber any indigenous language group, the issue can no longer be ignored. Quite apart from the fact that the "new" immigrant communities will be the "old" minorities of tomorrow, their languages often face similar, if not more acute problems than "national" groups. In the Netherlands, itself containing a high percentage of immigrants, research has begun into the common challenges facing both "old" and "new". Whether or not the EU is willing to include the thorny issue of immigration in a future language policy remains a point of debate, but neither "old" nor "new" are displaying willingness to be eaten by the international shark of English

Bringing Europe's lingua franca into the classroom
Jennifer Jenkins and Barbara Seidlhofer suggest how the results of new research into how 'non-native' speakers of English use the language must change the way it is taught.A Finnish scientist coming to Vienna for a conference on human genetics; an Italian designer negotiating with prospective clients in Stockholm; a Polish tourist chatting with local restaurateurs in Crete: they all communicate successfully in "English", but which "English"? Well, chances are that it is not the language you hear in chat shows and soaps on British or American television, but rather a range of "Englishes", with enough of a common core so as to make it viable as a means of communication.
In fact, it is even claimed that a European variety of English, sometimes labelled "Euro-English", is in the process of evolving to serve as a European lingua franca. As yet, however, this new variety of English has not been described, largely because it is at such an embryonic stage in its evolution. All we can say with any degree of certainty is that English as a lingua franca in Europe (ELFE) is likely to be some kind of European-English hybrid which, as it develops, will increasingly look to continental Europe rather than to Britain or the United States for its norms of correctness and appropriateness.
However, as long as there is no sound empirical basis for a description of how the language is actually used, the forms ELFE will take will remain an object of speculation.
This is why we decided to record interactions among "non-native" speakers of English from a wide variety of first-language backgrounds, and to investigate what happens linguistically when English is used as a lingua franca. The focus of our research to date has been on pronunciation and lexicogrammar (vocabulary plus grammar), and it has enabled us to make a number of educated guesses at emerging characteristics of ELFE.
Jennifer Jenkins gathered data from interactions among non-native speakers of English in order to establish which aspects of pronunciation cause intelligibility problems when English is spoken as an International Language. This enabled her to draw up a pronunciation core, the Lingua Franca Core, and certain of the features she designates core and non-core provide evidence as to the likely development of ELFE pronunciation.
The features of the Lingua Franca Core are those which were found to be crucial for intelligibility. They include:• consonant sounds except for "th" (both voiceless as in "think" and voiced as in 'this') and dark 'l' (as, for example, in the word 'hotel')• vowel length contrasts (eg the difference in length between the vowel sounds in the words "live" and "leave")• nuclear (tonic) stress (eg the stress indicated by capital letters in the following: "I come from FRANCE. Where are YOU from?")
Most other areas of pronunciation are then designated non-core, and these include many features on which teachers and learners often spend a great deal of time and effort, such as the exact quality of vowel sounds, word stress, or the "typical rhythm of British English", with lots of "little" words such as articles and prepositions pronounced so weakly as to be hardly audible.
Taking the Lingua Franca Core as our starting point, we predict that the pronunciation of ELFE will, over time, develop certain characteristics. For example, it is unlikely that "th" will be a feature of ELFE accents since nearly all continental Europeans other than those from Spain and Greece have a problem in producing it. What is not clear at this stage is whether the ELFE substitute will be "s" and "z" (as used, for example, by many French- and German-English speakers) or "t" and "d" (as used, for example, by many Italian- and Scandinavian-English speakers), or whether there will be scope for regional variation. Given that users of "s" and "z" outnumber users of "t" and "d", however, we predict that ultimately the former will become the accepted ELFE variant.
Similarly, because of difficulties of many Europeans with dark "l", we predict that this sound will not be included in the ELFE pronunciation inventory, but will probably be substituted with clear "l" (a development which will run counter to that in British English, where dark "l" is increasingly being substituted with l-vocalisation, such that "bill" sounds more like "biw").
On the other hand, the British-English distinction between voiced and voiceless consonants is likely to be maintained in ELFE since the loss of this distinction proved to be a frequent cause of intelligibility problems in the research. For example, a German-English speaker's devoicing of the final sound on the word "mug" so that it sounded like "muck" rendered the word unintelligible to an Italian-English speaker.
The phenomena that can be observed in the area of ELFE lexicogrammar are the focus of Barbara Seidlhofer's current research. For this purpose, she has been compiling a corpus of interactions in English among fairly fluent speakers from a variety of first-language backgrounds. This corpus consisting of vast amounts of electronically stored written and spoken text is called the Vienna-Oxford ELF Corpus, and is housed at the University of Vienna and supported by Oxford University Press.
The findings emerging from it are similar to Jenkins' research into pronunciation in that they also involve many of those features often regarded, and taught, as particularly "typical" of (native) English. In our analyses of a variety of interactions such as casual conversations and academic discussions, no major disruptions in communication happened when speakers committed one or more of the following deadly "grammatical sins":• using the same form for all present tense verbs, as in 'you look very sad' and 'he look very sad'• not putting a definite or indefinite article in front of nouns, as in "our countries have signed agreement about this"• treating "who" and "which" as interchangeable relative pronouns, as in "the picture who. . ." or "a person which"• using just the verb stem in constructions such as "I look forward to see you tomorrow"• using "isn't it?" as a universal tag question (ie instead of "haven't they?" and "shouldn't he?"), as in "They've finished their dinner now, isn't it?".
These characteristics, it will be noted, are described in a neutral way here, ie we are not talking about "dropping the third person -s" or "leaving out the -ing ending of the gerund", but this is not the way these "mistakes" are usually treated in English classrooms around Europe. As many teachers of English as a foreign language will know, the time and effort spent on such features as the "third person -s", the use of articles and the "gerund" is often considerable, and nevertheless many learners still fail to use them "correctly" after years of instruction, especially in spontaneous speech.
What our analyses of ELF interactions suggest is that the time needed to teach and learn these constructions bears very little relationship to their actual usefulness, as successful communication is obviously possible without them. It seems, in fact, that there is a very good reason for many students' observed resistance to learning these characteristics of native-speaker English: like the th-sounds discussed above, they are not communicatively crucial. Rather, speakers tend to tune into them only when they use English in a native-speaker community and wish to "blend in" (which, for certain learners, obviously remains a desirable objective) while they seem to be redundant in much lingua franca communication.
As far as the implications for teaching are concerned we would like to make two general suggestions. The first and most important point to emphasise is, in our view, the need to encourage both teachers and students to adjust their attitudes towards ELFE. Even those who strongly support the development of a continental European hybrid variety of English that does not look to Britain or America for its standards of correctness, reveal a degree of schizophrenia in this respect. For example Charlotte Hoffman has described the English of European learners as spanning "the whole range from non-fluent to native-like", as though fluency in English were not a possibility for those whose speech does not mimic that of a native speaker.
Similarly, Theo van Els pointed out in a lecture given last year in the Netherlands that the ownership of a lingua franca transfers from its native speakers to its non-native speakers. Yet he went on to argue paradoxically that the Dutch should not be complacent about their English because "only very few are able to achieve a level of proficiency that approximates the native or native-like level".
Our second point is that it is crucial for English language teaching in Europe to focus on contexts of use that are relevant to European speakers of English. In particular, descriptions of spoken English offered to these learners should not be grounded in British or American uses of English but in ELFE or other non-native contexts (depending on where the particular learners intend to use their English in future).
In this respect it is disappointing that so-called "authentic" materials offered to learners continue to be based only on corpora of native speaker use. For example, Helen Basturkmen's recent contribution to the ELT Journal argues in favour of "highlighting general strategies of talk, and encouraging learners to become active observers of language use in settings relevant to them". This would be admirable were it not the conclusion to an article in which she cites examples taken exclusively from data of native speaker interactions. ELFE learners (along with all other learners of English as an International Language) need descriptions drawn from interactions between non-native speakers in the contexts in which they, too, will later participate. To some, our proposal may seem to be a recipe for "permissiveness" and decline in "standards". But what we are essentially seeking to do is to carry through the implications of the fact that English is an international language and as such no longer the preserve of its native speakers. If English is indeed a lingua franca, then it should be possible to describe it as such without prejudice. And that may well be the biggest challenge for ELFE in the 21st Century.

A Nation Divided by One Language

Politics still obscure the real debate about the United States’ language policy, says James Crawford

"If you live in America, you need to speak English." According to a Los Angeles Times poll, that was how three out of four voters explained their support for Proposition 227, the 1998 ballot initiative that dismantled bilingual education in California. Many Arizonans cited the same reason for passing a similar measure (Proposition 203) last year.
Ambiguous as it is, this rationale offers some clues about the way Americans think about language. No doubt for some the statement has a patriotic subtext: one flag, one language. Rejecting bilingual education was a way to "send a message" that, in the United States, English and only English is appropriate for use in the public square.
Other voters merely seemed intent on restating the obvious. English is so dominant in the US that non-English speakers are at a huge disadvantage. Thus schools must not fail to teach English to children from minority language backgrounds. Students’ life chances will depend to a large extent on the level of English literacy skills they achieve.
Immigrants have generally understood these truths more keenly than anyone, and behaved accordingly. As the linguist Einar Haugen observes, "America’s profusion of tongues has made her a modern Babel, but a Babel in reverse." There is no reason to think the historic pattern has changed. Although the number of minority language speakers has grown dramatically in recent years, thanks to a liberalisation of immigration laws in 1965, so has their rate of acculturation. Census figures confirm the paradox. While one in seven US residents now speaks a language other than English at home, bilingualism is also on the rise. A century ago the proportion of non-English speakers was nearly five times as large. As the population becomes increasingly diverse, newcomers seem to be acquiring the national language more rapidly than ever before. The political problem is that many Americans have trouble believing all this. One conservative organisation claims: "Tragically, many immigrants these days refuse to learn English! They never become productive members of society. They remain stuck in a linguistic and economic ghetto, many living off welfare and costing working Americans millions of tax dollars every year." Such perceptions are not uncommon. Perhaps this is because Americans who came of age before the 1970s had little experience of linguistic diversity. Growing up in a period of tight immigration quotas, they seldom encountered anyone speaking a language other than English, except foreign tourists. So today, when Spanish and Vietnamese are heard routinely in public and when bilingual government services in Tagalog and Gujarati are not unknown, some Americans conclude that the hegemony of English is threatened, and perhaps their "way of life" as well. Suddenly they are endorsing coercive measures, as suggested by the US English lobby, to "defend our common language". An English Only movement based on these premises came to prominence in the 80s. Thus far it has succeeded in legislating English as the official language of 23 states, although such declarations have been primarily symbolic, with few legal effects as yet.
The campaign’s ideological effects have been more significant. In particular English Only agitation has made bilingual schooling a lightning rod for political attacks from people concerned about immigration policy, cultural change and the expansion of minority rights. Debating the best way to teach English to children becomes a form of shadow-boxing that has less to do with pedagogical issues than with questions of social status and political power. It does not help that the pedagogical issues are so poorly understood. Monolinguals tend to regard language learning as a zero-sum game. Any use of children’s mother tongue for instruction, the assumption goes, is a diversion from English acquisition. Thus assigning English learners to bilingual classrooms would seem to delay their education.
Research has shown that precisely the opposite is true. Far from a waste of learning time, native-language lessons support the process of acquiring a second language while keeping students from falling behind in other subjects. Stephen Krashen, of the University of Southern California, has documented the "transfer" of literacy skills and academic knowledge between various languages ? even when alphabets differ substantially. "We learn to read by reading, by making sense of what we see on the page," Krashen explains. Thus "it will be much easier to learn to read in a language we already understand". And literacy need not be relearned as additional languages are acquired. "Once you can read, you can read."
Other studies confirm that by the time children leave well-structured bilingual programs, typically after four to five years, they are outperforming their counterparts in non-bilingual programs, and in some cases students from native-English backgrounds as well.
Yet such success stories remain poorly publicised. Until recently bilingual educators have done little to explain their methods and goals, while the US media have become increasingly sceptical. "If all I knew about bilingual education was what I read in the newspapers," says Krashen, "I’d vote against it, too."
Mixed messages have compounded the public relations problem. Bilingual education, which began as an effort to guarantee equal educational opportunities, is increasingly promoted as a form of multicultural enrichment. To counter the English Only mentality, advocates have coined the slogan English Plus. They argue that the US remains an underdeveloped country where language skills are concerned. In a global economy more multilingualism, not less, would clearly advance the national interest.
Some English-speaking parents have been receptive to the "bilingual is beautiful" pitch. Over the past decade a growing number have enrolled their children in "dual immersion" classrooms alongside minority children learning English. Yet despite excellent reports on this method of cultivating fluency in two languages, no more than 20,000 English-background students are participating. Compare that with the 300,000 Canadian anglophones in French immersion programmes, in a country with one-tenth the population of the US. By and large English Plus appeals primarily to language educators and ethnic leaders ? that is, to those who already value bilingual skills. Other Americans remain suspicious of the "plus". Most harbour the false impression that bilingual education is primarily about maintaining Hispanic culture. Knowing a foreign language is wonderful, they say, but shouldn’t English come first? The US language policy debate rarely seems to get past that question.

This article first appeared in the February 22, 2001 edition of Learning English, the Guardian Weekly’s English language teaching supplement.© Guardian Weekly

Tess of the d’Urbervilles: Hardy's Map

Tess of the d’Urbervilles: Photographs of Places in the Novel



Stonehenge


The Turberville window from outside St. John's, Bere Regis




The Turberville window from inside St. John the Baptist church

Biography of Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)

Thomas Hardy was born June 2, 1840, in the village of Upper Bockhampton, located in Southwestern England. His father was a stone mason and a violinist. His mother enjoyed reading and relating all the folk songs and legends of the region. Between his parents, Hardy gained all the interests that would appear in his novels and his own life: his love for architecture and music, his interest in the lifestyles of the country folk, and his passion for all sorts of literature.
At the age of eight, Hardy began to attend Julia Martin's school in Bockhampton. However, most of his education came from the books he found in Dorchester, the nearby town. He learned French, German, and Latin by teaching himself through these books. At sixteen, Hardy's father apprenticed his son to a local architect, John Hicks. Under Hicks' tutelage, Hardy learned much about architectural drawing and restoring old houses and churches. Hardy loved the apprenticeship because it allowed him to learn the histories of the houses and the families that lived there. Despite his work, Hardy did not forget his academics: in the evenings, Hardy would study with the Greek scholar Horace Moule.
In 1862, Hardy was sent to London to work with the architect Arthur Blomfield. During his five years in London, Hardy immersed himself in the cultural scene by visiting the museums and theaters and studying classic literature. He even began to write his own poetry. Although he did not stay in London, choosing to return to Dorchester as a church restorer, he took his newfound talent for writing to Dorchester as well.
From 1867, Hardy wrote poetry and novels, though the first part of his career was devoted to the novel. At first he published anonymously, but when people became interested in his works, he began to use his own name. Like Dickens, Hardy's novels were published in serial forms in magazines that were popular in both England and America. His first popular novel was Under the Greenwood Tree, published in 1872. The next great novel, Far from the Madding Crowd (1874) was so popular that with the profits, Hardy was able to give up architecture and marry Emma Gifford. Other popular novels followed in quick succession: The Return of the Native (1878), The Mayor of Casterbridge (1886), The Woodlanders (1887), Tess of the D'Urbervilles (1891), and Jude the Obscure (1895). In addition to these larger works, Hardy published three collections of short stories and five smaller novels, all moderately successful. However, despite the praise Hardy's fiction received, many critics also found his works to be too shocking, especially Tess of the D'Urbervilles and Jude the Obscure. The outcry against Jude was so great that Hardy decided to stop writing novels and return to his first great love, poetry.
Over the years, Hardy had divided his time between his home, Max Gate, in Dorchester and his lodgings in London. In his later years, he remained in Dorchester to focus completely on his poetry. In 1898, he saw his dream of becoming a poet realized with the publication of Wessex Poems. He then turned his attentions to an epic drama in verse, The Dynasts; it was finally completed in 1908. Before his death, he had written over 800 poems, many of them published while he was in his eighties.
By the last two decades of Hardy's life, he had achieved fame as great as Dickens' fame. In 1910, he was awarded the Order of Merit. New readers had also discovered his novels by the publication of the Wessex Editions, the definitive versions of all Hardy's early works. As a result, Max Gate became a literary shrine.
Hardy also found happiness in his personal life. His first wife, Emma, died in 1912. Although their marriage had not been happy, Hardy grieved at her sudden death. In 1914, he married Florence Dugale, and she was extremely devoted to him. After his death, Florence published Hardy's autobiography in two parts under her own name.
After a long and highly successful life, Thomas Hardy died on January 11, 1928, at the age of 87. His ashes were buried in Poets' Corner at Westminster Abbey.

Tess of the d’Urbervilles: Online Text



http://hardy.thefreelibrary.com/Tess-of-the-dUrbervilles--A-Pure-Woman

Tess of the d’Urbervilles: Character Map

Thomas Hardy


Tess of the D'Urbervilles: THE AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES

Some writers draw little from their birthplace. For Thomas Hardy, however, the Dorset region of England (known in his novels as Wessex) where he was born, raised, and lived nearly all his life, was the vital wellspring and setting of most of his novels. Born in 1840, he spent his childhood in a fertile rural region, full of old folk superstitions, ballads, and fatalistic beliefs. At the same time, modern industrial life was creeping into Dorset and its old-style agrarianism (farming life) was fast fading. In many ways, Thomas Hardy lived between the old world and the new, trying to fashion a truce between the two in his fictional creations.
The Victorian Age in which Hardy lived was alive with contradictions and conflicts. While people were supposed to live in accordance with the Bible and its ethics, they all too often took the sacred words in a harsh, literal sense rather than with a spirit of mercy and compassion. At the same time many of these social and religious dogmas did more to keep the poor serving the new wealthy middle classes than to promote the good of humanity. We'll see how unjustly Tess is treated by a society that obeys the letter rather than the spirit of the law. We'll also see in Hardy's novel how money and power can cause people to compromise human dignity and liberty.
Like the fictional d'Urbervilles, Hardy's family had been prominent in the past, with a number of philanthropists, famous generals, and barons. But by the time Tommy, as his parents called him, was born, his family, like Tess', had lost its wealth, power, and prominence. Hardy's father, a mason and house-builder, was a craftsman. His mother's family members, once part of the landed gentry, were now poor servants.
From his mother, Hardy inherited a fascination for old, extinct families, a love of classical books, and a certain plainfolk fatalism in which "what will be, will be." His father was a boisterous man who loved playing the fiddle with Tommy at church affairs and local folk festivities, like the ones we'll see in Tess. Hardy's love for music is obvious in the melodic, ballad-like quality of his finest works. The story of Tess is very much like the oldtime ballads Hardy heard as a Dorset boy. These traditional songs abound with fair young maids murdering their seducers and star-crossed lovers lying dead- but still embracing- under greenwood trees.
The Hardys were avid churchgoers, and the Bible was probably Tommy's first reader. You'll notice when you read Tess that Hardy quotes the Bible extensively. Like Angel Clare, a major character in Tess, Hardy was originally bound for the clergy, but his family's economic needs, as well as his own religious doubts, caused him to become an architect instead. He loved Shakespeare and followed with interest all the newest evolutionary creeds, as well as the determinist philosophies of his times. You'll see all these influences in Tess.
Hardy was always a shy, reclusive individual who loved the solitary, nature-filled life of the Dorset countryside. He never felt at home in cities. He became seriously ill and depressed during both his extended stays in London. Even as a boy he was fascinated by the grotesque, which figures largely in the ancient forests and d'Urberville crypts of Tess. He observed two hangings in his childhood. He viewed one hanging avidly from the top of a hill with a telescope. This hanging is memorialized in Tess.
Roman and Druidic ruins were all around Hardy in Dorset, and their rough majesty and wild paganism sent his vivid imagination soaring, as we'll see in the Stonehenge sequence of Tess. Primitive edifices turn up throughout Tess, forcing us to see Hardy's characters within an historic and universal framework. Hardy took great pride in restoring old churches, in which 500 years of varying architectural styles might be present in one building. His work on such churches may have taught him how to combine and intermix several eras in his literary works. Throughout Tess, history ties everything together. The characters are forever floating back and forth between daily humdrum existence and noble pasts.
Hardy's job as an architect entailed meeting many colorful local folk who spoke the rich and rough Dorset dialect. Hardy uses this dialect in Tess to represent the common folk and lend a special, lyrical rhythm to the novel. Tess herself, like Thomas Hardy, spoke the dialect as well as the Standard English that was just beginning to be taught in the schools. Like Angel, Hardy was emotionally tied to rural England, but was too well educated to feel he completely belonged there.
Everyone, after reading Tess, has to wonder if there was a real-life model for its fascinating heroine. No one knows for sure, but there is some well-founded conjecture that Tess is based on Hardy's beautiful, mysterious cousin, Tryphenia Sparks. Hardy may have once been in love with Tryphenia, who died just months before Hardy began writing Tess. After her death, Hardy wrote impassioned poems to her on the theme that "absence makes the heart grow fonder." Angel Clare expresses similar sentiments in Tess.
In 1872 while Hardy was still wavering between careers in architecture and writing, he met and married Emma Gifford, a woman from a higher social class than his own. He'd recently published his first novel, after years of rejection, and would soon write his now-famous Far from the Madding Crowd (1874). The Mayor of Casterbridge was published in 1886, followed by several less ambitious works. In 1891 he published Tess of the D'Urbervilles and, in 1895, his last novel, Jude the Obscure. After the notoriety of Jude and Tess, Hardy gave up trying to write novels to please a mass audience and returned to poetry, his first love.
Hardy's wife, Emma, died in 1912 and though he had made her life fairly miserable, he never stopped mourning her death. The Hardys suffered much as a married couple, and the problems of men and women living together as life partners are demonstrated in Tess. Emma and Thomas came from different social classes and backgrounds and had different expectations. Emma loved socializing and London, while Thomas was a country hermit. They never had any children and life at their home, Max Gate, seemed dreary to outsiders. After Emma's death, Thomas, now in his seventies, married his young secretary, Florence Dugdale, who cared for him until he died in 1928. He is buried at Westminster Abbey next to Charles Dickens, though his heart, by his own request, is buried next to his first wife's grave.
Tess of the D'Urbervilles was originally published as a serial in a magazine. In order to get past magazine censorship, Hardy was forced to cut some of the more sexually explicit passages. (These are all restored in current editions.) To mollify his magazine audience, Tess is made to think she has married Alec (a mock service is performed). That way, she doesn't know she's having sex out of wedlock. In the magazine version, Tess doesn't have a child by Alec, and she returns to live with him at Sandbourne.
When Hardy published the complete text of Tess in book form, critics were both impressed at its brilliance and horrified at its unconventional moral stance. How could a murderess ever be a pure woman, many asked.

About Tess of the D'Urbervilles

Tess of the d'Urbervilles, like the other major works by Thomas Hardy, although technically a nineteenth century work, anticipates the twentieth century in regard to the nature and treatment of its subject matter. Tess of the d'Urbervilles was the twelfth novel published by Thomas Hardy. He began the novel in 1889 and it was originally serialized in the Graphic after being rejected by several other periodicals from July to December in 1891. It was finally published as a novel in December of 1891. The novel questions society's sexual mores by compassionately portraying a heroine who is seduced by the son of her employer and who thus is not considered a pure and chaste woman by the rest of society. Upon its publication, Tess of the d'Urbervilles encountered brutally hostile reviews; although it is now considered a major work of fiction, the poor reception of Tess and Jude the Obscure precipitated Thomas Hardy's transition from writing fiction to poetry. Nevertheless, the novel was commercially successful and assured Hardy's financial security.
Tess of the d'Urbervilles deals with several significant contemporary subjects for Hardy, including the struggles of religious belief that occurred during Hardy's lifetime. Hardy was largely influenced by the Oxford movement, a spiritual movement involving extremely devout thinking and actions. Hardy's family members were primarily orthodox Christians and Hardy himself considered entering the clergy, as did many of his relatives. Yet Hardy eventually abandoned his devout faith in God based on the scientific advances of his contemporaries, including most prominently Darwin's On the Origin of Species. Hardy's own religious experiences can thus be seen in the character of Angel Clare, who resists the conservative religious beliefs of his parents to take a more religious and secular view of philosophy.
The novel also reflects Hardy's preoccupation with social class that continues through his novels. Hardy had connections to both the working and the upper class, but felt that he belonged to neither. This is reflected in the pessimism contained in Tess of the d'Urbervilles toward the chances for Tess to ascend in society and Angel's precarious position as neither a member of the upper class nor a working person equivalent to his fellow milkers at Talbothays. Again, like Angel Clare, Thomas Hardy found himself torn between different social spheres with which he could not fully align himself. Tess of the d'Urbervilles reflects that divide.

Tess of the d’Urbervilles: About the Novel

Introduction
Hardy began Tess of the d’Urbervilles in 1888–89 and considered such names as Love, Cis/Cissy, and Sue, for the title character. Eventually, he decided on Tess. Hardy had been working on this manuscript with the intention of submitting it for serial publication, in which only a few chapters would be released at a time; depending on the material’s reception and the publisher’s willingness, these chapters would then later be combined in book form. Hardy contracted with W. F. Tillotson & Son in 1887 for a serialized story to be delivered in four installments between 1887 and June 30, 1889. Hardy also negotiated with Harper’s Bazaar in America for the story at about the same time.
Tillotson & Son realized that it had a racy novel on its hands when editors became aware of the serial’s content. The publishers suggested revisions of certain scenes and complete deletions of others, but Hardy refused, and the two parted ways amicably, leaving the book unpublished. Fortunately, Hardy had an offer to publish the serial in the Graphic (London) Illustrated Weekly Newspaper. After much revision, the novel appeared as a serial on July 4, 1891, in England (in the Graphic and the Nottinghamshire Guardian and Midlands Counties Advertiser) and Australia (the Sydney Mail). It appeared on July 18 in America in Harper’s Bazaar.
After a successful reception as a serial, Tess of the d’Urbervilles was published in book form and consisted of three volumes. In late 1892, the entire set was combined into one volume and sold well. By 1900, Hardy authorized a paperback version of the novel, which sold 300,000 editions in England in one year. Hardy continually tinkered with the subsequent editions, and he worked on revisions up until the time of his death in 1928.
Early Reviews
Although the first reviews of the novel were generally good, later critics charged that the book had some serious defects. The Saturday Review called the novel “an unpleasant novel told in a very unpleasant way.” Another critic, Mowbray Morris, published the letter sent to Hardy rejecting the serial when it was proposed to Macmillan’s Magazine, a literary magazine whose contributors included—in addition to Hardy—Tennyson, Herbert Coleridge (grandson of S.T. Coleridge), Bret Harte, and Mowbray Morris. Harper’s Weekly called Tess “artificial” and “not in the reality of any sane world we recognize.” Novelist Henry James called Tess “chock-full of faults and falsities and yet [possessed of] a singular beauty and charm.” Others thought the novel “not to their personal tastes in some respects, but justly appreciated its greatness in others.” The Atlantic Monthly called Tess “Hardy’s best novel yet.”
It seems, however, that Hardy overlooked the positive reviews, and after reading Morris’ review, Hardy wrote, “Well, if this sort of thing continues no more novel-writing for me.” It was the hint of a vow that Hardy would fulfill, only a few years later. He would write only one more novel, Jude the Obscure.
Still, Tess continued to sell well in Hardy’s time and has spawned a great wealth of literary criticism that continues even today. The negative critics have been silenced, and Tess continues to be read and reread as a classic of English literature.
Historical Context
The Victorian Era when Hardy lived was a time of great change. Queen Victoria ruled England from1837 until her death in 1901. During her 63-year reign, England became the most powerful and wealthiest country in the world through its colonial acquisition and by harnessing the power of the Industrial Revolution. The population in England doubled during Victoria’s reign, and the economy of the country changed from agriculture-based to industry-based. More people were enfranchised (that is, given the right to vote) and, through this, gained influence in government. The Parliament passed labor laws that improved labor conditions, established universal schooling for all children, and reformed the civil service system. Britain ended restrictions on foreign trade, opening the way for the island to become a source for both raw materials and finished goods to an ever-increasing international market.
Victoria, interested in the welfare of her people, worked hard to pass meaningful reforms, and she earned the respect of her subjects. Her prime ministers were her greatest assets, and with them, Queen Victoria decreased the powers of the monarchy to empower the members of the prime minister’s cabinet. As a result, the British monarchy has been able to endure, unlike the monarchies in most other countries.
The changes that occurred during the Victorian era affected the lives of every person living in England in both great and small ways. As England quickly moved from an agriculture-based society to one that would produce many of the world’s goods, factories replaced individual workshops, and people moved from small towns to large cities in search of work. Mobility and the transport of goods were increased with the invention of steamships and the development of a railway system. The balance of traditional class distinctions shifted as more people prospered, amassing wealth and power that had been unthinkable in the years prior to this era. These tumultuous changes resulted in an examination of the traditional ways of thinking and acting, and the foundations of English society—family, religion, class divisions, and so on—came under increasing scrutiny.
One area that was particularly affected by the changes in England was religion. The Church of England was traditionally conservative and offered a literal interpretation of the Bible. During the Victorian period, however, as people began to see the church as an agent for social change as well as an agent for personal salvation, the question became how—and even whether—the church should best fulfill these missions. The result was a schism in the church that fostered three movements: the High Church movement, the Middle Church movement, and the Low Church movement.
The High Church movement was designed to align the Church of England with the “Catholic” side of Anglicanism. The thinking here was that traditional practices were the standard by which faith could be expressed and that supreme authority resided in the Church. The Middle Church movement cared less for tradition and believed that faith could be expressed in various ways, including through social action. The Low Church Movement believed that evangelicals were a force that could reform the church from within and without. Individual and biblical bases of faith were hallmarks of this movement. Evangelicals tackled serious issues of the day: housing and welfare of the poor, as well as social reform. They also believed in spreading the gospel around the world by any means necessary.
The growing reliance on science to explain the nature of man and his relationship with his world opened the doors for further examination of traditionally held beliefs. The publication of Darwin’s Origin of Species (1859), which suggested that species evolved from common ancestors that could be found through scientific research, challenged the belief that God created each species individually and separately from every other species. The agnostic movement, which relied on scientific evidence and reason to find universal truths and which held that the existence of God could not be empirically proven, took hold and gained momentum.
From these ideological splits, religious liberals and conservatives battled over fundamental questions of faith and religious practice. In Hardy’s work, we can see that this debate was one that he entered into. In Tess of the d’Urbervilles, Hardy’s protagonist finds herself in a world where she questions religion, questions faith, looks for meaning in life, and searches for the truths that mankind has sought for centuries.
Literary Context
The body of Victorian literature is tremendous and would be difficult to categorize with only a few authors. Hardy’s contemporaries included the likes of Charles Dickens, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, Matthew Arnold, E.M. Forester, and Joseph Conrad. Each contributed his or her work to the body of general human knowledge and, to one degree or another, considered the issues that had become a part of the English “discussion.”
Dickens criticized the treatment of the poor and children, the courts, and the clergy in Oliver Twist, David Copperfield, and Bleak House. William Thackeray challenged Victorian society at all levels in Vanity Fair. The Brontë sisters—Emily, Charlotte, and Anne—wove romantic elements with tragic heroines and heroes in Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Agnes Grey. Matthew Arnold took the discussion of worldly happiness versus religious faith in his poems “The Scholar Gypsy” and “Dover Beach.” Tennyson’s In Memoriam, an epic poem on the loss of dear friends, discusses intellectual and religious issues of the day. Conrad wrote on the psychology of guilt, heroism, and honor in his novels Lord Jim and Heart of Darkness.
Tess of the d’Urbervilles is one of Hardy’s Wessex novels, so called because the action in each story takes place in the Wessex region. Other of the Wessex novels include The Mayor of Casterbridge (1886) and Jude the Obscure (1895). In each, the main characters are dealt a cruel fate that they must overcome or be crushed by. In The Mayor of Casterbridge, Michael Henchard, a respected man, faces a spiritual and physical deterioration that, in the end, destroys him. The main character in Jude, Jude Fawley, suffers from a desperate misery of body and mind and dies, like Tess in Tess of the d’Urbervilles, a victim of fate.

Narrative Technique in Tess of the D'Urbervilles - George Fleischer

"All works of fiction tell a story but what sets them apart is the particular way in which the story is told". Discuss the narrative technique of Hardy in Tess of the D'Urbervilles and what this method enables hardy to achieve.
The narrative technique of an author in any novel is crucial to the readers understanding of the narrative. The way in which a novel is written influences the way in which the reader interprets the events which occur throughout the novel and allows the author to convey the feeling of time, place, and people in the society in which the author is attempting to impart to his or her readers. In Tess of the D'Urbervilles, author Thomas Hardy uses a variety of narrative techniques in order to convey his own impressions of the society in which both he and his character Tess lived. Hardy's use of a third person omniscient narrator who is all knowing adds to the vulnerability of Tess by the reader's knowledge of what other characters say and do, whilst simultaneously detaching himself from the tragedy of Tess. The use of extensive description of setting by Hardy allows the reader to interpret the action, reactions, and moods of the characters in relation to the specific atmosphere in which they exist at the time and the influence which such a setting has on the character's feelings and emotions. Hardy's use of religious and mythological allusions and metaphysical symbols allow the reader to reflect on the religious and sociocultural environments in which the narrative is set so as to allow the reader to better understand and interpret the actions and emotions of the characters due to the reader's knowledge of their environmental influences. An effective narrative technique used by Hardy is the provision of a more direct means of communication between his characters and the reader. This is achieved through the use of dialogue, letter writing, and songs and poetry. Dialogue between characters allows Hardy to present his characters to his readers in a more direct way. It permits Hardy to allow his readers to interpret the characters in a way which is less influenced by his own narration and by which the readers are able to judge for themselves the characters by how they speak and communicate with others as well as the content of their converse. Letter writing and songs and poetry allow the reader to be directly informed of the actions and their rationale as well as the feelings of a specific character by which the reader is able to interpret these being influenced by the specific character rather than Hardy himself, and also allows the reader an insight into the social and cultural backgrounds of the society as reasoning for the characters behaviour and emotions. The way we read, interpret, and reflect on a novel is greatly influenced by the author and his or her use of narrative techniques in order to appropriately convey the characters and their society.
An omniscient narrator is one who knows all and sees all. It allows the reader and indirect insight into the actions and emotions of specific characters. The omniscience of the narrator allows the reader to not be influenced by the character in the interpretations of the character's behaviour and feelings and also encourages the reader to sympathise with Tess in her tragic and unfortunate predicament. Using such a narrative technique, Hardy allows himself to be somewhat detached from his characters, often appearing as though he himself does not sympathise with the tragedy that is Tess. The effect of the novel not being narrated by Tess is that we as the reader are given a perception of the lives of other characters which Tess herself is unaware of. It allows us to interpret for ourselves the predicament which characters other than Tess are placed in through our own eyes with the influence of Hardy and not through Tess. However, this style of narration prevents the reader from having a direct line into the thoughts and feelings of Tess and other characters, and does not allow for the character to directly communicate with their readers in a way which would inform the readers of the workings of the character's mind, what they do, and why they do it. However Hardy manages to overcome this difficulty through the use of other narrative techniques such as dialogue and letter writing.
Setting in this case refers to the specific surrounding environment and it's atmosphere in which a character exists at a specific point in time. The particular setting in which a character exists reflects the character's moods, actions, reactions, and their rationale for these, whilst the setting also influences how a character behaves. Hardy's comprehensive description of these settings also conveys to the reader the insignificance of individual characters in relation to the social atmosphere in which they live as a whole. Upon the commencement of chapter two, Hardy describes the county of Marlott and the surrounding Vale of Blackmoor in terms of its rural beauty and cultural atmosphere whereby a May Day dance is being held. This description of setting reflects the peaceful atmosphere of the county at that time, much like that of Tess and her family, creating suspense for the events to come. Prior to Alec's violation of Tess, Hardy describes the setting of Chaseborough as "a decayed market town" (Chapter 10) where Alec, Tess, and their companions have chosen to spend their evening drinking. An atmosphere of chaos and disorder has thus been set with Tess's intoxicated and unruly companions turning into "satyrs clasping nymphs" (Chapter 10). This creation of a embroiled and uncomfortable environment for Tess alerts the reader to advancing events. Hardy makes note of the fog in the woods which is regarded as a metaphorical representation of entrapment. It is during this tumult that Alec takes advantage of the sleeping Tess. In the second phase of the novel, Tess is seen making her way back to Marlott at which point she is overtaken by Alec. Tess refuses converse with him and leaves him to go down the "crooked lane" (chapter 12). It is here where we realise that Hardy's created topography of Wessex represents the moral condition of the characters. Two distinct setting placed in stark contrast to each other are Tess's journey to The Slopes where Alec lives and Tess's journey to Talbothay's dairy. Upon departing for The Slopes, Tess is reluctant and indisposed to her impending situation. She does not enjoy the journey in the least, feeling that her excursion will result in unwanted consequences. However travelling to Talbothays Tess's ride is swift and pleasant. Tess feels a sense of purpose in beginning a fresh new chapter of her life, and considers the journey more of a "pilgrimage" (chapter 16). Upon arriving at the dairy, Tess observes that this a place of good spirits where "she appeared to feel that she really had laid a new foundation for her future" (chapter 16). Hardy juxtaposes the residences of both Alec and Angel, contrasting Alec's estate on The Slopes and Angel's elevated dwelling. This contrast in setting reflects Tess's respective relationships between herself and both Alec and Angel. In the midst of the blossoming relationship between Tess and Angel at the dairy, Hardy describes the setting as "oozing fatness and warm ferments... the hiss of fertilisation... The ready bosoms existing there were impregnated by their surroundings". (chapter 23). This description of setting reflects the relationship between Tess and Angel and the atmosphere in which their relationship matures. However this was not to last. Following the demise of Tess and Angel's marriage, Tess arrives at Flincomb Ash. Such a name conveys the impression of a stark and desolate setting which reflects Tess's on misery and suffering. The land in harsh and barren, possibly representing the love of lack thereof between Tess and Angel. The work is onerous and toilsome, contrasting considerably with Tess's joyful labour at Talbothay's. Tess's depression reaches it's climax here in the barren wasteland and "the joyless monotony of things" (chapter 46). it is amidst this desolate and destitute environment where Alec surfaces again to declare his love for Tess. Tess refuses his pleas, still hoping for the return of her beloved Angel. When Angel finally does return, it is amidst the luxurious seaside resort at Sandbourne whereby Tess is described as being expensively dressed and living in affluence. This setting conveys the impression of both an inappropriate environment for Tess, representing her union with Alec, but also a prosperous environment representing her reunion with Angel. Hardy's effective use of dynamic setting is used in order to allow Hardy to convey the moods and feelings of his characters which are reflected by the setting in which the specific characters exist at that time.
Hardy's characters are greatly influenced by the religious and social environments in which they live. Religious and mythological allusions enable Hardy to convey these aspects of his society to his readers. In the opening of the novel, the first character the readers are introduced to is Parson Tringham. No physical description is given and his dialogue is limited, creating an alluding and mysterious figure. The parson represents the religiosity of Hardy's society and communicates to the readers that this is a religious society, whilst also setting the scene for Tess's introduction to the readers and for the events to come. At the commencement of the second phase of the novel "maiden no more", Tess is seen burdened with a heavy basket and a large bundle. This can be regarded as the metaphysical symbol of oppression and hardship. Some time later as Tess and Angel depart from the dairy after their wedding ceremony, a cock is heard crowing. Such is an omen of bad luck, and according to biblical references, the cock crowing three times as it had done intensifies the omen even more. This religious allusion represents the religious implications and consequences for Tess's decision not to inform Angel of her past, whilst also creating suspense for the reader as to the events to come.
An effective narrative technique used by Hardy is dialogue between characters. How a character speaks and what they say allow a greater insight into the nature of their individuality. It permits the reader to judge the characters on the basis of their own communication with other characters rather than on Hardy's own interpretation of their converse. Dialogue also informs the reader of a specific character's thoughts and feelings as well as their intentions and rationale for previous actions. Upon the commencement of the novel, the reader is introduced to John Durbeyfield. His dialogue with the unknown parson indicates to the reader that this is an uneducated man who is a member of the lower classes. His dialect may give an indication of his county of origin but also conveys to the readers that he is possibly intoxicated, which we later find out he is, and also slightly pompous without reason. Thus Hardy's use of dialogue here sets the scene for Tess's introduction to the reader. Also used by Hardy in order to create a more intimate relationship between the characters and his readers is the use of letter writing and songs. Having set their wedding date for New Years Eve, Tess and Angel relish their time together, however upon trying on her wedding dress, Tess cannot help but remember one of her mother's songs:
"That would never become a wife
That had once done amiss" (chapter 32)
This song allows Tess to return to her childhood in her adulthood, and also allows her to convey a typical value of the society in which she lived, a women who had committed an indiscretion in her early years shall never be married. This song also imparts to the reader Tess's fears and doubts, and the extent to which her guilty conscience is imploring her to inform Angel of her past. During the climax of Tess's depression whereby she is in a state of "utter stagnation" (chapter 41), Tess receives a letter from her former dairymaid friend Marian, asking Tess to join her at Flincomb Ash.
Once having arrived at Flincomb Ash, and Tess having subjected Alec to an "insulting slap" (chapter 48), Tess resolves to write to Angel, imploring him to "save me from what threatens me!" (chapter 48).
Having returned home to her ill mother, only to be informed of her father's death, Tess now resolves to write to Angel yet again, this time in a bitter letter abusing Angel for his mistreatment of her.
Having received no reply from Angel, Marian and Izz write to Angel beseeching him to return to Tess.
The use of letter writing enables Hardy to create a more intimate relationship between his characters and the readers, allowing the readers to understand the character's behaviour and their rationale.
Hardy's use of an omniscient narrator, descriptive setting, allusion and metaphysical symbols, and letter writing and songs in Tess of the D'Urbervilles enables Hardy to influence the way his readers understand an interpret the events of the novel. These narrative techniques are highly effective in establishing a relationship between the characters and the reader and also in conveying to the readers the various aspects of Hardy's society. An understanding of these religious, social, and cultural aspects allows the reader to rationalise the actions and emotions of the characters in relation to the society in which these character's live. It is crucial for the readers to comprehend the background and aspects of Hardy's society in order that they be able to realistically explicate the plot of the novel in relation to the environment in which the characters exist.