You Don’t Need to Be a Developer to Start Playing with AI Models in Python

I’ve been singing the praises of local models of late, for so many reasons. From intelligent OCR to data crunching with enhanced privacy, there are gains to be had and they’re easy to access with free inferencing software like LM Studio and Ollama.

That said, there’s a moment that happens to a lot of people who work adjacent to tech – linguists, teachers, researchers – where they think: I’d love to tinker with these AI models properly – and maybe even build them directly into my own tech projects.

This post addresses that tinkering itch. The good news: it’s genuinely easier than you think, and you can get something running in an afternoon.

Why Python?

I ask this a lot, myself, coming from a totally different development background (full-stack and native web app coding). Going back into academia, Python seems to be everywhere.

Python has become the de facto language of AI and data science for a reason. Its syntax is readable almost like pseudocode, its libraries are extraordinarily well-developed and vast, and – linked to that last point – calling an API takes a handful of lines, not pages of custom routines. If you’re coming from a research or humanities background, Python also has the advantage of being widely taught in academic contexts, which means the community, tutorials, and Stack Overflow threads are abundant.

Compare calling an LLM in Python to doing the same in JavaScript or Swift, and you’ll understand immediately why the ‘AI for academia’ world standardised on Python.

And a big plus – it’s probably already installed on your machine. Open your terminal / command prompt interface, and type python --version or python3 --version. If you see a version number come back, you’re good to go. If not, head to python.org/downloads and grab the latest stable release – it’s a straightforward installer on every platform.

Two Ways In: Cloud or Local

Option 1: Hugging Face’s Free Inference API (great for experimenting, zero cost)

Hugging Face is essentially the GitHub of AI models – tens of thousands of open-source models, all in one place. The Serverless Inference API lets you call many of them without setting up any infrastructure, and the free tier is perfectly generous for tinkering and learning. You’ll hit rate limits if you go overboard, but for exploration it’s hard to beat.

Here’s what you need to get started:

  1. Create a free account at huggingface.co
  2. Go to Settings → Access Tokens and generate a token with Read permissions
  3. Install the library: pip install huggingface_hub

Then you can call a model like this:

from huggingface_hub import InferenceClient

client = InferenceClient(
    model="meta-llama/Llama-3.2-11B-Vision-Instruct",
    token="hf_your_token_here"
)

response = client.text_generation("Explain enregisterment in simple terms.")
print(response)

That’s genuinely it for a first experiment. A few lines. No GPU. No cloud bill.

One gotcha: some popular models require you to accept their licence terms on the Hugging Face website before you can access them via the API. If you get a 403 error, that’s almost certainly why — head to the model page, accept the terms, and try again.

Option 2: LM Studio (run models locally, completely private)

If you’d rather not send your data to any external service – which matters for research involving sensitive text – LM Studio is still a brilliant solution. It gives you a clean interface to download and run open-source models on your own machine, with no internet connection required once the model is downloaded.

The local model landscape has improved dramatically. Models like Qwen3 (the 4B and 14B variants especially) are genuinely impressive on a modern laptop or desktop with a decent amount of RAM. You wouldn’t have believed this was possible two years ago.

LM Studio exposes a local API that mimics the OpenAI format, so you can call it from Python the same way:

from openai import OpenAI

client = OpenAI(
    base_url="http://localhost:1234/v1",
    api_key="not-needed"  # LM Studio doesn't require auth locally
)

response = client.chat.completions.create(
    model="qwen3-14b",  # whatever model you've loaded in LM Studio
    messages=[{"role": "user", "content": "Hello, what can you do?"}]
)

print(response.choices[0].message.content)

The openai library here is just a convenient HTTP client — you’re not actually talking to OpenAI. You’re talking to a model running on your own machine.

Common stumbling block: LM Studio’s server needs to be running and a model needs to be loaded before your script will work. The error message when it’s not running is a bit cryptic (ConnectionRefusedError or similar) — if you see that, it just means you didn’t start the server yet.

Making the Output Actually Readable

Once you’re getting responses back, the next temptation is to do something with them in your terminal – loop through results, display analysis, format comparisons. The default print() approach quickly gets messy.

My namesake, the rich library is a revelation here (how nice to have a Python library named after me). It adds colour, formatting, tables, and syntax highlighting to terminal output with almost no effort:

pip install rich
from rich.console import Console
from rich.markdown import Markdown

console = Console()

response_text = client.text_generation("Write a haiku about Python.")
console.print(Markdown(response_text))

If the model returns markdown (which most do), rich will render it beautifully right in your terminal. Headers, code blocks, bold text — all of it. This is genuinely transformative for readability when you’re doing exploratory work.

Don’t Stop at Chat: Sentence Transformers Are Worth Knowing About

Here’s where it gets interesting for researchers and linguists in particular. Large language models are great for generation — producing text, summarising, answering questions. But there’s a whole other class of model designed for understanding text semantically: sentence transformers.

The Sentence Transformers library (also called sbert) lets you turn text into numerical vectors that capture meaning. Two sentences that mean the same thing will have vectors that are close together; two unrelated sentences won’t. This is called a semantic embedding.

Why does this matter? A few examples:

  • Corpus linguistics for semantics: Automatically cluster dialect examples by semantic similarity rather than just keyword matching
  • Research assistants: Find the most relevant papers or passages from a large collection based on meaning, not just exact words
  • Teaching tools: Build a quiz that detects when a learner’s answer is semantically equivalent to the model answer, even if the wording is different
pip install sentence-transformers
from sentence_transformers import SentenceTransformer, util

model = SentenceTransformer("all-MiniLM-L6-v2")

sentences = [
    "The dialect features of the Black Country are highly distinctive.",
    "Black Country speech has unique phonological characteristics.",
    "The weather in Edinburgh is famously miserable."
]

embeddings = model.encode(sentences)
similarity = util.cos_sim(embeddings[0], embeddings[1])
print(f"Similarity: {similarity.item():.3f}")  # will be high

This runs entirely locally (the model downloads once and caches), is fast even on a modest laptop, and opens up a whole world of computational approaches to language that go well beyond chatting with an LLM.

Getting Set Up: The Boring-but-Important Bit

Beyond that, there are just a few things I’ve learnt from my initial tinkerings that will save you headaches.

Use a virtual environment. Every time. Before you install anything for a new project, do:

python -m venv venv
source venv/bin/activate  # on Mac/Linux
venv\Scripts\activate     # on Windows

This keeps your project’s dependencies isolated and prevents the infuriating “but it worked yesterday” problem where one project’s libraries silently break another’s.

Keep API secrets out of your code. Don’t paste your Hugging Face token directly into a script you might share or commit to GitHub. Use a .env file and the python-dotenv library:

pip install python-dotenv
# .env file (this file stays off GitHub — add it to .gitignore)
HF_TOKEN=hf_your_token_here
# your script
from dotenv import load_dotenv
import os

load_dotenv()
token = os.getenv("HF_TOKEN")

Read error messages. This sounds obvious, but: most Python errors from LLM libraries tell you exactly what went wrong. A 401 means authentication failed (wrong or missing token). A 503 means the model is loading on the server side – wait a moment and retry. A ConnectionRefusedError from a local API almost always means LM Studio’s server isn’t running.

What Next?

Once you’ve got a basic script running, the natural next steps are:

  • Build a simple chat loop that keeps track of conversation history and lets you have a back-and-forth with a model
  • Experiment with system prompts to give the model a persona or set of instructions
  • Try different models on the same prompts and compare the results – it’s illuminating
  • Start combining LLMs with sentence transformers for retrieval-augmented approaches where you search a corpus semantically before feeding results to a generative model

The Python AI ecosystem is genuinely exciting right now, and the barrier to entry has never been lower. You don’t need a GPU, you don’t need a cloud account, and you don’t need to be a professional developer. You just need an afternoon and a bit of curiosity.

Have questions or want to share what you built? Drop a comment below.

A swirl of IPA symbols in the ether. Do LLMs 'understand' phonology? And are they any good at translation?

Do LLMs have phonological ‘understanding’?

LLMs are everywhere just now. And as statistical word-crunchers, these large language models seem a tantalisingly good fit for linguistics work.

And, where there’s new tech, there’s new research: one of the big questions floating around in linguistics circles right now is whether large language models (LLMs) “understand” language systems in any meaningful way – at least any way that can be useful to research linguists.

LLMs doing the donkey work?

One truly exciting potential avenue is the use of LLMs to do the heavy lifting of massive corpus annotation. Language corpora can be huge – billions of words in some cases. And to be usefully searchable, those words have to be tagged with some kind of category information. For years, we’ve had logic-based Natural Language Processing (NLP) tech to do this, and for perhaps the most block-wise faculty of language – syntax – it’s done a generally grand, unthinking job.

But LLMs go one step beyond this. They not only demonstrate (or simulate) a more creative manipulation of language. Now, they have begun to incorporate thinking too. Many recent models,  such as the hot-off-the-press GPT-5, are already well along the production line of a new generation of high reasoning LLM models. These skills that are making them useful in other fields of linguistics, beyond syntax – fields where things like sentiment and intention come into play. Pragmatics is one area that has been a great fit, with one study into LLM tagging showing promising results.

The sounds behind the tokens

As for phonology, the linguistic field that deals with our mental representations of sound systems, the answer is a little more complicated.

On the one hand, LLMs are completely text-based. They don’t hear or produce sounds – they’re pattern matchers for strings of tokens – bits of words. But because written language does encode sound–meaning correspondences, they end up with a kind of latent ability to spot phonological patterns indirectly. For example, ask an LLM to generate rhyming words, or to apply a regular sound alternation like plural –s in English, and it usually does a decent job. In fact, one focus of a recent study was rhyming, and it found that, with some training, LLMs can approach a pretty humanlike level of rhyme generation.

On one level, that’s intuitive – it’s because orthography tends (largely) to reflect underlying phonotactics and morphophonology. Also, the sheer volume of data helps the model make the right generalisations – in those billions of pages of crunched training data, there are bound to be examples of the link. Where it gets shakier is with non-standard spellings, dialect writing, or novel words. Without clear orthographic cues, the model struggles to “hear” the system. You might see it overgeneralise, or miss distinctions that are obvious to a native speaker. In other words, it mimics phonological competence through text-based proxy, but it doesn’t have one.

It’s that ‘shakier’ competence I’m exploring in my own research right now. How easy is it to coax an understanding of non-standard phonology from an out-of-the-box LLM? Pre-training is key, finding wily ways to prime that mysterious ‘reasoning’ new models use.

Rough-Edged tools that need honing

So, do LLMs have phonological understanding?

Well, not in the sense of a human speaker with an embodied grammar. But what they do have is an uncanny knack for inferring patterns from writing, a kind of orthography-mediated phonology.

That makes them rough tools starting out, but potentially powerful assistants: not replacements for the linguist’s ear and analysis, but tools that can highlight patterns, make generalisation we might otherwise miss, and help us sift through mountains of messy data.

NLP takes language and makes sense of it

NLP with a side helping of Linguistics revision

I’ve been immersed in NLP a bit lately. That’s not Neuro Linguistic Programming – though it does confusingly share the acronym (and is well worth a look for brain-hackers). No, this NLP is Natural Language Processing, a branch of computational linguistics that engages with automated parsing and tagging of human language.

Anyway, I was looking for something ideally very recent and came across the 2024 Springer textbook A Course in Natural Language Processing by Yannis Haralambous. It’s the book form of a course the author spent ten years perfecting. And it’s just what I needed – a step-by-step intro and history to NLP, situating it within the latest pivot to LLMs.

But what I didn’t expect was that it doubles as a brilliant ‘fundamentals of linguistics’ revision. The book targets students learning about NLP in a number of disciplines, not least linguistics. But since linguistics is part and parcel of language processing tech, there’s a whole section to get non-linguists up to speed. And it’s not just the basics. The author squeezes a ton of grad-level concepts into some brilliantly terse overview chapters.

Why should I get excited about this? Am I not ‘already’ a linguist? Well, I am… but a sidestepping one, having spent most of my professional life in language pedagogy. These chapters cover the material I studied in my taught masters, but revisiting them from time to time never hurts. Learning later in life things that colleagues learnt in their youth just needs a bit of neural retreading, and it’s great to come across a book that supports all that necessary pre-knowledge.

Anyway, A Course in Natural Language Processing is a great, up-to-date intro to NLP if you’re looking for one. And if your formal linguistics is a little rusty, you’ll get a bonus refresher into the bargain.

Christmas 2024

Christmas Gifts for Language Lovers : 2024 Edition!

Linguists in your life and lost for present ideas? It’s that time of year again, when I crack open the bubbly, grab a seat by the fireside, and list my favourite language learning Christmas gifts of the year. And it’s been another cracking year for learners!

Here’s my round-up of gifts (that includes gifts to yourself, remember!).

Christmas for Linguists, 2024 Edition!

SCOTTISH GAELIC : A COMPREHENSIVE GRAMMAR

Christmas gifts 2024 - Scottish Gaelic - A Comprehensive Grammar

Christmas gifts 2024 – Scottish Gaelic – A Comprehensive Grammar

I won’t lie – this was my highlight of the year. On the surface, it’s clearly one for Gaelic learners, but Indo-European typologists and other fans will also be cheering for it.

We’ve been waiting for a Gaelic grammar as comprehensive as this for years, and this volume by William Lamb does not disappoint. It’s as thorough a take as I’ve ever seen, and chock full of real-world examples. While not for beginners (a little knowledge of basic syntax would be recommended for some chapters), it’s pretty much an essential companion for anyone studying the language seriously.

It’s another gem in the crown of Routledge’s long-loved grammar series. And with a second edition of Turkish being added to the Comprehensive cache next year, it looks bound to keep growing.

THE TRUTH ABOUT ENGLISH GRAMMAR

Christmas gifts 2024 - The Truth about English Grammar

Christmas gifts 2024 – The Truth about English Grammar

If the usual stuffy old style books leave you reeling, then this could be the grammar guide you’re looking for. It’s a really refreshing look at what counts as ‘good’ English, without the moralising and with an eye to language as a developing, living thing, and not a relic.

THE LANGUAGE PUZZLE : HOW WE TALKED OUR WAY OUT OF THE STONE AGE

Christmas gifts 2024 - The Language Puzzle

Christmas gifts 2024 – The Language Puzzle

We all love a good language origin story, and this year’s offering to the fray is Mithen’s excellent The Language Puzzle. It’s a great synthesis of current thinking on how we became talking apes, and very readable with it.

EUROVISION 2024 DVD

Christmas gifts 2024 - Eurovision DVD

Christmas gifts 2024 – Eurovision 2024 DVD

If you experienced this in the moment, you’ll remember as one of the most contentious contests of the show’s nearly 70 years of history. But it was also a great one for non-English entries, which you can enjoy in full HD in the peace of your own home now the dust has settled.

BRAVE NEW WORDS: HOW AI WILL REVOLUTIONIZE EDUCATION (AND WHY THAT’S A GOOD THING)

Christmas Gifts 2024 - Brave New Words

Christmas Gifts 2024 – Brave New Words

It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t squeeze an #AIEd book in here too, and Brave New Words is one of the best amongst a bumper crop. The clincher with this one is that its positivity is palpable. True, there’s a fair bit of plug for the author’s resources, but overall it’s a book full of ideas that look forward with excitement, rather than apprehension. Nice title too, playing on the currency of LLMs.

CHATGPT ADVANCED VOICE MODE

And of course, on the topic of AI, the big game-changer in AI for language learning this year was ChatGPT’s advanced voice mode. For a start, it much more closely mimics real conversation with more humanlike turn-taking. But it’s leagues better at speaking languages other than English, too. Impressively, this includes varieties of other languages. Just ask it to speak German with a Bavarian accent, or French as in Marseilles.

It will blow your socks off. Well worth the upgrade to Plus.

 

Language learning - making sense of the wall of words.

Playing with Words: How ‘The Language Game’ Can Boost Your Learning

It doesn’t happen too often, but now and again I come across a linguistics book that has some immediately liftable, transferable insights for language learners, both formal linguists and otherwise. So it was with The Language Game, my star read over a quiet Christmas up in Aberdeenshire this year.

As polyglots and language enthusiasts, we often get lost in the intricate maze of vocabulary lists, grammar rules, and perfect pronunciation. We diligently chase language as a concrete, unchanging entity, forgetting the exhilarating dance of meaning that is the true essence of language.

But what if we’ve been approaching language learning from a slightly skewed perspective?

The Language Game, Morten H. Christiansen and Nick Chater’s paradigm-changing exploration of the improvisational nature of language, suggests that maybe we have. They argue that, much like life itself, language is a constant improvisation and renegotiation of meaning. From the ever-shifting, multifaceted definitions of words like light and live (just think of all the different, often tenuously connected things they have come to mean), language isn’t a fixed system, but a dynamic game we play. At any point, we can recruit existing items in novel ways that suit our immediate needs. This game relies almost completely on context, arising from our in-the-moment desire to communicate rather than adhering to strict, unchanging rules.

What does this mean for us second (third, fourth etc.) language learners? It reminds us that language isn’t a static mountain to be conquered, but a playful river we navigate as it continues to change. The path forward lies not in rote memorisation, but in embracing the creative process of meaning-making in the moment.

Lessons from The Language Game

The Language Game is a compelling, accessibly written book and an easy read even if you don’t have a background in formal linguistics. I really recommend you dip in yourself to benefit from the insights inside it. In the meantime, here are the main polyglot takeaways that I found beneficial – all great rules to learn by as a foreign language enthusiast.

Meaning isn’t set in stone

Ease off on exact dictionary definitions and rigid rules. Focus on using words in context, adapting to the ever-evolving “language games” around you, consuming as much contemporary media as possible.

Context is King

Don’t downplay the role of setting in what words and sentences mean. If something doesn’t make sense, pull back to see the bigger picture, and have a stab at guessing from the context. Always close attention to the social landscape where language unfolds. Words are chameleons, their meaning shifting with the hues of the situation.

Mastery takes repetition

Even the expectation that toddlers incorporate ten new words perfectly into the mental lexicon is on shaky ground. Investigations into the infamous ‘cheem’ experiments reveal that kids grasp new concepts quickly, but lose them quickly without reinforcement.

Let go of the pressure to “gobble up” language in this way. Language use isn’t simply ‘learn it once and remember it forever’. It builds gradually, layer by layer, through repeated exposure and playful experimentation. Fleeting memory may fades, but repeated use cements meaning.

The Language Game is Just Charades

Gestures, context, and playful guessing guide our understanding. Just as children infer meaning from context, so too do we adults when we play charades. The metaphor of charades – using whatever is at hand to produce meaning in the mind of another – extends to everyday communication, too.

Embrace the guessing game – it’s a powerful learning tool. Guessing is good – don’t be afraid to take a leap of faith with a new word. Use it, even if you’re unsure.

Remember, language is a game, and games are meant to be fun. So let’s play!

The Language Game by Morten H. Christiansen and Nick Chater is available as a paperback and Kindle book from Amazon.

Up the etymology garden path with ChatGPT

This week’s story starts with an instinct. I’ve been learning Swedish, which, as a Norwegian speaker, has advantages and disadvantages. One downside is the need to fight the assumption that the vocabulary of each matches up exactly with an identical etymology, when this is so often patently untrue.

In fact, Norwegian and Swedish have walked separate paths long enough for all sorts of things to happen to their individual vocabularies. For instance, take trist and ledsen, both meaning sad in Norwegian and Swedish respectively. Adding ledsen to my list of Swedish differences (I’m using my Swedish Anki deck just for the differing words), I started wondering about the etymology of both. Norwegian trist, clearly, I thought, is a French borrowing, probably via Danish. On the other hand, ledsen looks like it was inherited from the North Germanic parent language.

ChatGPT Etymology

Since I’m exploring the use of AI for language learning both personally and professionally at the moment, it seemed like a good test case for a chat. I went straight in with it: is the Norwegian word trist a borrowing from French?

But shockingly, ChatGPT was resolute in its rejection of that hypothesis. The AI assistant insisted that it’s from a Nordic root þrjóstr, the same that gives us þrjóstur (stubborn) in Modern Icelandic, with the variant þristr which seems to have evolved into Modern Norwegian trist.

Now, the thing with ChatGPT is that it can be so convincing. That’s entirely thanks to the very adept use of natural language in a conversational format. The bot simply speaks with an authoritative voice like it knows what it’s talking about.

So it must be true, right?

Manual Etymology

At this point, it all felt a bit off. I just had to do some manual digging to check. In Bokmål cases like these, my first port of call is the Norsk Akademi Ordbok. If there is an authority on Norwegian words, there’s little that comes close.

So I key in trist, and – lo and behold – it is a French borrowing.

The entry for 'trist' in the Norwegian Academy's Dictionary, showing its etymology.

The entry for ‘trist’ in the Norwegian Academy’s Dictionary, showing its etymology.

There’s no mention of Danish, just the French and the Latin that comes from. I suspect, with a bit of digging, it might turn out to have been borrowed into Danish first, but NAOB is definitive. Not a hint of Norse etymology.

Now there’s a chance ChatGPT knows something that NAOB doesn’t, although I doubt it. More likely, it’s just the innate talent the emergent AI has for winging it, and making best guesses. That’s what makes it so powerful, but, like human guesses, it’s also what makes it fallible just now. It’s a timely reminder to double-check AI-generated facts for the time being.

And maybe, to just trust your own instinct.

Blue hearts on a blue background - missing someone can make the heart feel blue. Image from freeimages.com.

Missing Me, Missing You : A Typology of “I Miss You”

Amongst the first snippets of foreign language we learn are often those expressing everyday emotional connection. The language of missing is usually somewhere in the mix.

There’s quite an interesting split in how languages express I miss you. I spot two big camps, although there are more for sure. The first of these two biggies has the person doing the missing as the subject of the active verb:

English I miss you
Finnish kaipaan sinua
German ich vermisse dich
Icelandic ég sakna þín
Polish tęsknię za tobą
Spanish te echo de menos
Swahili ninakukosa
Turkish seni özlerim

But in the second camp, the person being missed is the active subject. The person feeling the absence will be in an oblique or dative case:

Albanian më mungon
French tu me manques
Greek μου λείπεις (mou lípis)
Hungarian hiányzol ‘you are missing’ – the ‘me’ is understood
Italian mi manchi
Serbian nedostaješ mi

Who’s Missing Whom?

The split is primarily a semantic one, with verbs tending to express either the emotional work of missing, or the state of being missing or absent. Some languages, of course, use totally different constructions, like the idiomatic Spanish echar de menos, although the doer here is still clear: it’s the person doing the missing. The same goes for other languages that use completely different constructions, like Japanese and Korean, which commonly use some version of I want to see you.

The dividing lines are most interesting because they don’t necessarily follow language family groups. Romance, Finno-Ugric and Slavic languages straddle both tables. There’s some evidence of the Balkan sprachbund in the second table, perhaps, but it seems largely chance which kind of phrasing a language ends up on.

Whether it is chance or not is hard to say. Surprisingly, it doesn’t appear that many linguists have attempted to answer that question, since a literature search turns up very little. Does anything in particular prompt a language to drift towards the ‘active misser’ or ‘active missed’ route? Is it a cultural difference? And could the construction even impact how we think of missing itself, or is it a chance mapping of syntax onto feelings?

For now, then, it’s just another of those little quirks we have to register when we learn a new foreign language. Perhaps more fundamentally, it’s simply another hue or picture setting to marvel at in the human kaleidoscope of modes of expression.

Have you come across other configurations in the typology of “I miss you”? And do you have your own inklings around an explanation? Let us know in the comments!

The movement of atoms. The morpheme could be called the atom of language. Image from freeimages.com.

Houston, We Have A Morpheme Problem

It was in Greek class that I realised it. I have a morpheme problem.

Yes, those pesky little indivisible chunks of languagey-ness are causing me grief. The exact nature of that grief is a regular mixing up of pronouns and possessives with s- (you) and t- (him/his/her), to the amusement of my teacher.

Πού είναι ο μπαμπάς του… ΣΟΥ; Pou íne o babás tou… SOU?
Where is his… YOUR dad?

The source? Probably the romance languages I’ve learned, where the correspondence is reversed. French has ton (your) and son (his/her), for example, while Spanish has tu and su. The romance you/he/she attachment to those tiny little chunks has reasserted itself temporarily (I hope) to wreak happy havoc.

Yes, interference is real, and it’s not just about whole words – it’s a morpheme thing, too.

Morpheme Madness

In reality, it’s nothing to worry about. It’s a natural by-product of a brain built for pattern-spotting, and studies of bilingual infants show that we’re well-equipped to remedy it in the natural course. I can talk about it now because I realised I was doing it, and self-corrected along the way.

But what else can I do about in the immediate term?

Much of it is to do with voice, at least for me. Cultivating distinct voices for each language you learn is a great way to compartmentalise and separate. But unless you’re a gifted impressionist, your repertoire might be limited, and you might have to double up. I realised my Greek voice was suspiciously like my Spanish one., all faux-masterful and brooding. No doubt a bit of clowning around and trying new accents on might help there.

But it’s an ideal case for mass-sentence training too, which I’d become lax with of late. Glossika has a ton of sentences including those little σου and του, and an extra five or ten minutes of training a day will – I hope – re-cement the little imps into my Hellenic pathways.

Have you noticed interference between your languages at the morpheme level? What are your strategies for re-enforcing separation? Let us know in the comments!

The Study of Language by George Yule. Eighth Edition, Cambridge University Press.

The Study of Language, 8th Edition [Review]

New year, new books. Well, we have to live by some adage don’t we? And perhaps it’s the time of year, but shiny new tomes in the postbox do have their appeal. Appropriately, this week’s doormat delight was George Yule‘s essential Linguistics primer The Study of Language, refreshed and updated in its 8th iteration.

It’s a text with some measure of nostalgia for me, appearing on a preliminary reader list ahead of my own MSc. And it has doubtless done so for many other courses, having become something of a modern classic; it offers a solid and systematic overview of all branches of the field, from historical linguistics to second language acquisition. If your university offers a course on it, there’s probably an introductory chapter on it in The Study of Language. It’s as comprehensive as it is reliable.

An Interactive Text

It’s been a good two years since the last edition, so what’s changed? One key enhancement is a considerable expansion of the end-of-unit study questions and tasks. It’s something that always made the volume perfect for working in tandem with programme instructors, now even more so. Activities range from simple questions to more exploratory project-based tasks, providing ample independent learning opportunities.

An example from one of the sections of study questions in The Study of Language by George Yule (8th Edition, Cambridge University Press).

Extensive study questions cap each of the concise, snappy chapters.

There is additional online support on the Cambridge website, too, which has seen a refresh along with the core text. This includes a substantial, 152-page PDF study guide for students, adding a good deal of value to the course.

Keeping It Current

The commitment of Cambridge University Press to keeping this key text up-to-date is impressive. Several of the chapters have gone through major rewrites to reflect current research. This is immediately evident in the further reading lists, replete with pointers to fresh, new sources.

The chapter on Second Language Acquisition is a case in point. Clearly it’s quite a dear topic to my own heart, and (predictably) one of my first stop-offs. But even I spotted some interesting new references to follow up in the mix, in the form of recent papers and monographs. It’s great to see the last couple of years represented in the lists of publications like this, underscoring the fact that this is a bang up-to-date edition.

The Study of Language is a broad, engaging and highly readable introduction to language sciences. It equips the reader with a robust roadmap to ensure they aren’t overwhelmed by unfamiliar buzzwords and jargon on starting out on a formal Linguistics course. This eighth edition is a very welcome continuation of that, ensuring that students get the very best and most up-to-date start possible.

Celtic designs on a stone sphere, evoking Old Irish culture. Image from FreeImages.com

Sengoidelc : Old Irish (and More Besides)

I stumbled across a rather special book this week. It’s David Stifter’s very thorough introduction to Old Irish, Sengoidelc, pleasingly still in print, and approaching its 20th birthday.

I sought it out first and foremost as a language-learning gap-filling exercise. I’ve spent some time with Scottish Gaelic, and a bit (well, a lot) less with Irish. Exploring Old Irish seemed like a good way to get to know their common history, especially given how helpful etymological pathfinding can be with multiple language projects. I’ve also come across satisfying snippets of Old Irish writing, like the brilliantly feline Pangur Bán, and hoped it might open the door to similar treats.

Old Irish – and the Rest

What I didn’t expect from an Old Irish primer was the wealth of detail about Proto-Indo-European. It makes sense, of course; for linguists studying PIE, Old Irish is an important source of evidence from a relatively less well-known ancient descendant – at least compared to, say, Greek and Latin. But it’s positively packed with background info on PIE parts of speech, and their development into the Celtic branch. All in all, it’s a fantastically erudite book written in a disarmingly friendly tone, helped along by some very cute cartoons of sheep.

The author even provides plenty of comparative examples in German. That’s perhaps unsurprising, given his connection to the University of Vienna. But the additional language gives a further handle on potentially difficult concepts for those who know a little. It’s the ultimate in triangulation (and you know I love that).

If your language interests intersect in the same way, Sengoidelc is heartily recommended. I’m just annoyed I didn’t find it sooner!