Linguistics in its modern sense is very much a modern construction. We use lots of tools to break down the intent of language, the structure of language, to try and ascertain a sense of the author’s meaning. We acknowledge that sometimes writers don’t even understand the reason for the words chosen, or can’t articulate how the aesthetics they employ translate from the conceptualization to reader. To answer those questions, to make sense of what is otherwise a muddled stew, we journey far from the realm of grammar (sometimes intentionally) to philosophy, to theory, to rhetoric, to history.
And in an SCA framework, using the tools of modern analysis definitely has a place in some contexts. I remember when I was doing my graduate work, I got into a lively debate over a couple of pints about a similar question. I was analyzing the music of Guillaume Du Fay (1397ish to 1474ish) using modern musical theory (Schenker, most specifically, but undoubtedly German theory from the late 1800s) and not the prevailing musical theory at the time. The question from my fellow devotee of discussion was whether or not that was “The Right Way” to do it. Being a modernist (well, frankly, a postmodernist but we’ll let the distinction slide for now) I of course argued that using the most number of tools we could made the analysis better and more complete. They vehemently disagreed, citing the huge tract of academic research that never, ever, ever did it my way. No trends there at all, no sir.
But that dialogue in taberna has sort of stuck with me, only to rear its head again. After a conversation with Magnus, I decided (I like to think that I decided it, but perhaps I was shuffled into this decision) to look into the origins linguistic study. The question before me now is what I can learn about how linguistics was viewed in a medieval sense, by actual medieval people, if anything at all. What can I learn from studying the old methods, and how can it inform the process that I go through when I am breaking down texts contemporary to the methods? Can I further define the aesthetics that particular word choices represent when they are used in a proto-medieval (i.e. SCAdian) context? Can I think like a medieval author, or a linguist, who is seeing a text written from the time period that I am inserting myself into? Can I understand what I am reading at a more organic level?
If the answers to those questions were “No”, this would be a very short project. Fear not, this is going to be a very long discussion. And it’s going to span an almost impossibly wide swath of time (well over one thousand years). More to come!