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!

A picture of chopped onions and carrots. Cooking - food for the language learning soul as well as the stomach?

Slow Cooking for Languages

I’m rubbish at cooking.

Don’t get me wrong – I can follow a recipe and whip up something edible if I really have to. But I’ve never had the creativity or passion in the kitchen to be an Ainsley or an Akis. I’m much more of a food-taker than a cake-baker.

It was a bit out of character, then, as I bookmarked scores of cheap, hearty recipes to experiment with lately. I guess it’s a sign of the times, first and foremost. With talk of widespread price rises and shortages, and it just seemed like a canny idea to get a handle on some proper home economics. Out with the ready-made, in with Lentils 101 Ways.

But what has this got to do with language learning? Well, cooking over the past few weeks has one unintended but fantastic side-effect on my studies.

It slowed me down.

Language Learning – Fast and Slow

My concentration when studying can be skittish at the best of times. I put it down to an active, inquisitive brain, serving up a mixture of excitement (for what I’m learning) and impatience (to plough through everything at once). But whatever the cause, it leaves me with an attention span I have to rule with an iron fist, lest it get the better of me.

That makes certain language learning tasks quite difficult, not least listening. Podcasts, for instance, have to be short and snappy (or easily chunkable so I can pause and come back as I need). Hands need to be away from the controls so I don’t resist the urge to skip or switch (the language podcast equivalent of sofa-bound channel-hopping). And I need to step away from the computer screen and all its tangential distractions. That will start innocently enough, of course. I’ll look up word in an online dictionary, mid-podcast. But then, I’ll fall down a rabbit hole of links as I completely forget the episode playing in the background.

So, imagine my discomfort when rustling up some lentil gratin on Wednesday evening. I switch on a podcast to listen to while I prepare dinner, and settle into my prep. Deep into chopping and prepping, I feel that urge to jump on – but I can’t. Nope; hands covered in garlic and onions, I’m bound to the chopping board. A captive audience. All I can do is take a deep breath, and stifle that urge. 

Kitchen activities, it turns out, are a fantastic aid to my concentration when working with audio materials. You’ve heard of slow cooking – well, this was slow language learning (in the best possible sense). And, what’s more, it works with all those audio books I’ve downloaded and not found time to listen to yet, too.

Sometimes all we need is to slow down and smell the cooking.

What slows you down and trains your focus? Let us know in the comments!