Why is it so slow to speak entish?

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Eh? Enti...what? Yes; entish is the Ents’ language, those anthropomorphic trees that move and speak in the second chapter of The Lord of the Rings. Treebeard, the main Ent, said the following:

“It is a beautiful language, but it takes so long to say anything on it that we don’t say anything on it which is not worthy taking the time for saying it, and for listening to it.”

Yes, but why? And what is so more important, why should it matter? It is interesting because comparing languages is an irreplaceable mean to know the structure and working system of a given language. In this way, the two existing Entish sentences are interesting for what they can tell about our own language. But, how is the Entish language? Its greatest distinctiveness comes from the fact that every word contains one only invariable meaning that refers to, means, one only entity. The word house can refer to as many different houses as seen or imagined. In Entish each individual perception of a house has a different meaning.

And what is the meaning of to mean? Defining meaning as the unstable (variable) relationship between an object referred to and its word. Meaning, as a mental process, is created by choosing the common elements of the objects alluded to with the same term. These common features (semes) form the functional group (sememe), which, so it is said, prints in our mind the image of a prototype: denotation. At the same time, every time a word is used to refer to an object (or entity), this acquires the features present on it and, in general, in the whole cognitive process (physical medium, mental associations, etc.) In this way, the word is loaded with the “minor” meanings, the infinite and variable group of non-functional (not relevant, distinctive) semes: connotation.

Therefore, there is a single form for each entity, and further, a different word for each perception of a given entity. Our “mental image” (meaning) of a person or place is not the same under our first impression that after further contact. Entish has different words for the Paris of the first day, of yesterday, and of today. But Tolkien was not the only one to think of a language of this kind; Locke foresaw it in the 17th Century, proposing and censuring a language in which every individual, stone, bird and branch has a proper noun. Borges’ tale The Memory of Funes deals with a person of entish memory and perception, Funes, who thinks of an infinite vocabulary for the natural numbers. Funes considered every perception of reality as individual and dissociated, and therefore deserved a different word: 

“It was not only difficult for him to understand that the generic symbol dog referred to a wide range of individuals with assorted sizes and forms; it puzzled him that the three fourteen dog (sideward) had the same name that the quarter past three dog (frontward).”

And that is precisely due to the Ent’s inability for abstraction: “he was unable for general, platonic ideas”.

Every time a different entity is referred to by the same word, its meaning is actualised; our knowledge of its sememe is reinforced and enriched with new non-functional information. Entish cannot group several connotative meanings in a single sememe; nor can it distinguish between functional and non-functional meanings, that is to say, it cannot make abstractions. Reality cannot be categorised. Therefore, a word’s meaning cannot change if the word does not, so the relation between word and meaning is stable, feature that differentiates its language from the human natural language. This requires constant actualisation to maintain the abstraction called sememe. Thus, a new lexeme is needed to express every new perception of a single entity.

But how do Ents do it? If every perception is expressed by means of a different word, then its number must be infinite. And furthermore, every word needs to be understood to make communication possible. The only mean for achieving successful communication is to employ transparent words that all the Ents can understand. Thus, a knife will be called a knife when first referred to, and its name will be enlarged with the names of the objects which experience a relation with it: knife cutting meat…and fish…in the morning…and in the afternoon… and wound the chief… in self defence… who wanted to kill me… because I slept with his wife… Consequently, Ents gather every new information given by a new experienced knowledge and add it to the word. That is why the avoid talking about Orcs: to avoid telling the compulsory catalogue of deaths and sufferings. Ents, as can be seen by its language, are beings of vast memory, but lack any ability of abstraction. Something like trees.

In Entish, every new actualisation results in a new lexical addition, and therefore every connotation (only limited to the own perceptive ability) produces a new lexeme that grows progressively and is potentially infinite. Composition is the method used for this lexical amplification, so frequent in Germanic languages, but here as complex as in Creoles, such as Bislama, in Vanuatu (Pacific Ocean).

Bislama refers to the piano as “wan bigfala bokis we i gat black tut mo waet tut team yu frappé kihim hem i crae”. Composition in Entish also appears in phrasal and clausal levels. That is why it sounds like an agglutinative or incorporative language.

The language of these trees (clearly based on Quanta, an ancient Elfic language) is so different that it is the sole language in Middle Earth that nobody else could learn. Fortunately Tolkien left a translation of the two only existing sentences in Entish:

 “laurelindórenan lindelorendor malinornélion ornemalin” (Valley- where- trees- sing- musically- under- golden- light,  musical- dreamt-land   with- golden- trees   golden- forest).

“Taurelilómëa- tumbalemorna Tumbaletaurëa Lómeanor” (Greatly- shadowed-forest-- of- deep- black- valley  deep- forested- valley dark- land). This sentence is translated by Beardtree as “ There is a black shadow in the deep valleys of the forest”. The vocabulary does not reflect a great complexity, since it is a variant of Quenya, as can be seen in the root morna, akin to (Mines of) Moria “darkness”.

A further difficulty of this process of composition is the need to actualise the deictic references: every adjective’s antecedent needs to be repeated every time, since the antecedent is different after every perception. And, to make this language even more difficult, Tolkien tells us that Entish distinguish tones functionally (and even more than four!) Together with this, there are other suprasegmental elements which are non-functional in any of the languages of Middle Earth, which makes it an impossible language, even for Elfic (sharp) ears.

Once seen all these, it can seem long and tedious to communicate in Entish, but not so much if we attend to the pragmatic resources: There is not turn taking, and several Ents can speak at the same time in different frequencies. In an Entish “dialogue” one Ent begins murmuring, later, another Ent joins, and so on, but always keeping a differences of rhythms and tones. Precisely as the sound of treetops shaken by the wind.

Finally, here it is an extreme instance of an artificial language (or rather, model language)  where motivation  (no arbitrariness in the relation word- meaning) is maximal: trees which language imitates the noise of its branches shaken by the wind.

           Óscar Gª Marchena   Paris, 21/I/2003