In-class reading Language and thought Lecture delivered in Melbourne in 2005 Para 1:I have chosen to talk today about the relationship between language and thought,but I must warn you at the outset that I am neither a linguist nor a philosopher,so what follows is perforce impressionistic-my personal take,if you like,on the matter,arising from my experiences as a practitioner of science and also of creative writing-two careers that that I have been lucky enough to be able to pursue simultaneously,and that have demanded-in my case at least-the use of very different languages. Para 2:So how does language shape thought? Para 3:One fairly obvious way is by conditioning experience-most of us will have an intuitive feel at least for the truth of this-it is after all the basis of poetry.At a more fundamental level,however,they are the very words that we attach to objects and actions and concepts that affect our perception of them.There is a whole branch of linguistics devoted to the study of this (someone yesterday very kindly offered me its name,but it escapes me now)-but very generally we know that an apple pie can taste rather different if it is called a pudding rather than dessert. Perhaps the earliest clue that words themselves can at least subtly alter experience comes from learning a second language and appreciating that the same object can be represented by a completely different string of syllables that actually brings out a different quality of it.The word 'rain'for example is 'brishti'in my mother tongue Bengali-and to my ear all the drama of a tropical storm is present within the word'brishti'and not so much of it in the somewhat curt 'rain' Para 4:My exposure to a second language occurred at a very early age-almost as I was learning to speak-for I was just over a year old when my parents moved to Ethiopia from Calcutta-which is where I was born,and still,in most senses,belong to.The Ethiopians were, and I am sure still are,a very proud people,and foreigners had no option but to learn their language Amharic(which has the same roots as Hebrew)if they were to survive there.This my parents did most willingly,as it was their interest in other cultures and languages that had brought them there in the first place.I,of course,acquired it naturally and spoke it alongside my mother tongue with ease-as most bilingual children clearly do.Thus,language was never a monolithic construct for me,and I was sensitized to the distance between a word and its referent almost as I became conscious.I am not aware that being exposed this early to two languages had any particular consequences for my personal development,and Amharic is now completely lost to me, or if not lurks so deep in the recesses of my mind that it may as well not be there.In some ways,I was not even conscious of navigating between two languages,and so did not learn one of the most valuable lessons from the process of ungluing word from object-which to my mind is tolerance. Indeed,when we moved to Zambia when I was four,and I was suddenly surrounded by English speaking children,I reacted with anger rather than bewilderment-how dare they speak in a language I do not understand!-I remember thinking.Soon of course I was speaking English fluently myself,and it has occupied a prominent position in my life ever since,although I stillIn-class reading Language and thought Lecture delivered in Melbourne in 2005 Para 1: I have chosen to talk today about the relationship between language and thought, but I must warn you at the outset that I am neither a linguist nor a philosopher, so what follows is perforce impressionistic – my personal take, if you like, on the matter, arising from my experiences as a practitioner of science and also of creative writing – two careers that that I have been lucky enough to be able to pursue simultaneously, and that have demanded – in my case at least – the use of very different languages. Para 2: So how does language shape thought? Para 3: One fairly obvious way is by conditioning experience – most of us will have an intuitive feel at least for the truth of this – it is after all the basis of poetry. At a more fundamental level, however, they are the very words that we attach to objects and actions and concepts that affect our perception of them. There is a whole branch of linguistics devoted to the study of this (someone yesterday very kindly offered me its name, but it escapes me now) – but very generally we know that an apple pie can taste rather different if it is called a pudding rather than dessert. Perhaps the earliest clue that words themselves can at least subtly alter experience comes from learning a second language and appreciating that the same object can be represented by a completely different string of syllables that actually brings out a different quality of it. The word 'rain' for example is 'brishti' in my mother tongue Bengali – and to my ear all the drama of a tropical storm is present within the word 'brishti' and not so much of it in the somewhat curt 'rain'. Para 4: My exposure to a second language occurred at a very early age – almost as I was learning to speak – for I was just over a year old when my parents moved to Ethiopia from Calcutta - which is where I was born, and still, in most senses, belong to. The Ethiopians were, and I am sure still are, a very proud people, and foreigners had no option but to learn their language Amharic (which has the same roots as Hebrew) if they were to survive there. This my parents did most willingly, as it was their interest in other cultures and languages that had brought them there in the first place. I, of course, acquired it naturally and spoke it alongside my mother tongue with ease – as most bilingual children clearly do. Thus, language was never a monolithic construct for me, and I was sensitized to the distance between a word and its referent almost as I became conscious. I am not aware that being exposed this early to two languages had any particular consequences for my personal development, and Amharic is now completely lost to me, or if not lurks so deep in the recesses of my mind that it may as well not be there. In some ways, I was not even conscious of navigating between two languages, and so did not learn one of the most valuable lessons from the process of ungluing word from object – which to my mind is tolerance. Indeed, when we moved to Zambia when I was four, and I was suddenly surrounded by English speaking children, I reacted with anger rather than bewilderment – how dare they speak in a language I do not understand! – I remember thinking. Soon of course I was speaking English fluently myself, and it has occupied a prominent position in my life ever since, although I still