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How does /lit/ feel about phonetic accent and dialect portrayal?

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How does /lit/ feel about phonetic accent and dialect portrayal?
It's a dumb gimmick that's fun in small measures and tedious if you decide to fill large chunks of your book/story/whatever with it.
Think you'll find that regularised spelling that takes little notice of how people actually pronounce and talk, making everyone sound the same, is the dumb gimmick.
Please stop; you're tainting my love of this board.
Why's that, lad?
Queneau is the only writer I enjoy that does this.

Is the entire book written like this? That'd be horrible. I was actually considering reading some of Welsh's work, but if it's written like that, I wont bother.
Different chapters are voiced by different characters so it varies but yes most of it is like that.
>mfw my next piece of erotica is in a southern dialect that is so deep it forms its own grammatical rules

Aw man. Trainspotting is the same, I presume?
You get used to it soon enough and after a while it becomes sort of addictive.
Would read. Erotica is great for vernacular but it is rarely ever done. People can be at their most basic, natural, naked and reveal their true selves in sex. Stripping away the class and pretension with the clothes.
Oh I assumed it was trainspotting, don't know but I think he did similar in skagboys.
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I'll shill it on here probably near New Year's. The basis is a slave fucking his master's daughter, so I imagine the dialect will add a lot to the bizarre, pressured intimacy between them.

If you want to check out another piece of mine, google image search pic related
It's not really necessary. Readers shouldn't need their hands held that excessively.

Good writers can get a virtually identical effect by simply using the right words and sense of phrasing.
Translated out of Lowland Scots this would lose a lot of its power. Can't imagine how weak MacDiarmid or Burns or Rab C Nesbitt would be if translated into a standard English. Get over it - or try to find a translation that will hold your hand.
I wanna bump this, because I see craps threads overtaking a lot of good questions. The dialect in OP's pic has a rich oral and written tradition - from Gavin Douglas (first British Isles translation of the Aeneid) to Oor Willy The Broons and Limmy. Why should it not be presented, by a native writer, as-is in prose form too? Because it is to difficult for you to follow?

If a writer has the ability to reproduce in text the connection between place, sound, and meaning, then it's not just a potential choice for the author but a duty. I'm not a lowland Scot, but I could have a fighting chance getting my own dialect down on paper and I do try.

Literary English is not the same as technical, scientific international English where everything must be standardized. We can and should fight to make it a diverse landscape, and show readers the value of getting out of their own brains for a while. Translation is valuable, but things get lost. Many of you know that. Should we translate Irving Walsh's characters into those of PG Wodehouse?

Not a Scot, btw.
Not really. Using dialect rather than regularized spelling can make a book inaccessible to certain readers.

I don't need this.

captcha: french fries.
In the same way that using a language makes a book inaccessible to certain readers.
How would you recreate the effect of OP image excerpt without it?
The language in the book is what the retarded scum of Scotland speak. It's like the opposite of Robert Burns.
Interesting to understand how they speak if you're into that but if you love language then there is very little value in it
You would write: "He was Scottish, you know, like groundskeeper Willie" and then everyone can adopt their own awful cod accent as they read it.
I wouldn't.
If used in dialogue, or few character narrated chapters, it's pretty useful and enhances atmosphere. Beyond that, it would be annoying and serve no other point than to stand out. So gimmicky and lazy.

Might as well switch to a different language mid sentence and throw in html for good measure, who cares if the majority will struggle with the shit!
The cunt tried tae say that thit he wis jist inside fir a fuckin traffic offence
>The gosh-darned fool, he had tried his best to claim to me that the only reason he’d been put in jail was a traffic offence

but ye ken they fuckers, they lie through their fuckin teeth cause thir nae gaunny fuckin well turn roond n say thit it wis fir noncin a fuckin bairn
>But you know such folks, they lie so well because they cannot exactly say to you that they were placed in jail for interfering with a child

Ken what they’d fuckin well git, the cunts
>Because they know quite well what might happen to them, the fools.

Bit thaire’s eywis weys n means ay findin oot aboot they cunts, fuckin surein they is
>There are, however, methods of finding out their real history. of course.

N a goat the info fae a fuckin reliable source, a fuckin real mate.
>I received such information from a true friend, a very reliable source.

It wisnae jist jail gossip. Ah dinnae pey any fuckin heed tae yon shit
>It wasn't just the typical banter between prison inmates - that’s not something I typically listen to.
Writers should fight to represent the richness of their own dialects. Readers should fight to understand. Otherwise you can fuck off and read Harry Potter, or the shit you find in airport bookshops.
Is that Begby?

I like stuff written in dialect as long as it's done well.
You got it turned upside down. The way language is spoken on the streets is what allows the literary forms to exist. If it isn't being spoken "by retards" on the street, it dies. The fact that it continued to be used by retarded scum in Scotland allowed a revival of the language in literary form in 20th century. As you see in OP's pic.
No, it's just a bastardisation of Scots language mixed with English. The language is there whether spoken well or poorly by the man on the street and there are those few, like Robert Burns, who used it well.
Yes but he and other writers wouldn't exist without the continued, even bastardised (as many languages have been bastardised with English) presence of a common dialect/language. Has lowland Scots ever not been bastardised by English in its history?
>Writers wouldn't exist without language

Yes, I agree. It's just not a point worth making. As for Robert Burns he wrote both exclusively Scots things, and English with Scots influence.

I don't know what your point is if what I said above isn't it
>Might as well switch to a different language mid sentence
have you ever read T.S. Eliot?
My main points are that
1. The writer springs from the language community and relies upon them, not the other way round. Representing accurately the way the way retarded scum in a community speak, if or when you want to make them speak in your text, gives voice to the fun and violence in the normal person's expression ("noncin a bairn") that might otherwise be lost or discarded as simply the speech patterns of retarded scum

2. Lowland Scots is a dialect of English - there is absolutely nothing exclusively Scots that is not also exclusively English. It is not a language. Gaelic is a language.
It can work well.

In mony a foreign pairt I've been,
An' mony an unco ferlie seen,
Since, Mr. Johnstone, you and I
Last walkit upon Cocklerye.
Wi' gleg, observant een, I pass't
By sea an' land, through East an' Wast,
And still in ilka age an' station
Saw naething but abomination.
In thir uncovenantit lands
The gangrel Scot uplifts his hands

At lack of a' sectarian fush'n,
An' cauld religious destitution.
He rins, puir man, frae place to place,
Tries a' their graceless means o' grace,
Preacher on preacher, kirk on kirk -
This yin a stot an' thon a stirk -
A bletherin' clan, no warth a preen,
As bad as Smith of Aiberdeen!

At last, across the weary faem,
Frae far, outlandish pairts I came.
On ilka side o' me I fand
Fresh tokens o' my native land.
Wi' whatna joy I hailed them a' -
The hilltaps standin' raw by raw,
The public house, the Hielan' birks,
And a' the bonny U.P. kirks!
But maistly thee, the bluid o' Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to John o' Grots,
The king o' drinks, as I conceive it,
Talisker, Isla, or Glenlivet!

For after years wi' a pockmantie
Frae Zanzibar to Alicante,
In mony a fash and sair affliction
I gie't as my sincere conviction -
Of a' their foreign tricks an' pliskies,
I maist abominate their whiskies.
Nae doot, themsel's, they ken it weel,
An' wi' a hash o' leemon peel,
And ice an' siccan filth, they ettle
The stawsome kind o' goo to settle;
Sic wersh apothecary's broos wi'
As Scotsmen scorn to fyle their moo's wi'.

An', man, I was a blithe hame-comer
Whan first I syndit out my rummer.
Ye should hae seen me then, wi' care
The less important pairts prepare;
Syne, weel contentit wi' it a',
Pour in the sperrits wi' a jaw!
I didnae drink, I didnae speak, -
I only snowkit up the reek.
I was sae pleased therein to paidle,
I sat an' plowtered wi' my ladle.
An' blithe was I, the morrow's morn,
To daunder through the stookit corn,
And after a' my strange mishanters,
Sit doun amang my ain dissenters.
An', man, it was a joy to me
The pu'pit an' the pews to see,
The pennies dirlin' in the plate,
The elders lookin' on in state;
An' 'mang the first, as it befell,
Wha should I see, sir, but yoursel'

I was, and I will no deny it,
At the first gliff a hantle tryit

To see yoursel' in sic a station -
It seemed a doubtfu' dispensation.
The feelin' was a mere digression;
For shune I understood the session,
An' mindin' Aiken an' M'Neil,
I wondered they had dune sae weel.
I saw I had mysel' to blame;
For had I but remained at hame,
Aiblins - though no ava' deservin' 't -
They micht hae named your humble servant.

The kirk was filled, the door was steeked;
Up to the pu'pit ance I keeked;
I was mair pleased than I can tell -
It was the minister himsel'!
Proud, proud was I to see his face,
After sae lang awa' frae grace.
Pleased as I was, I'm no denyin'
Some maitters were not edifyin';

For first I fand - an' here was news! -
Mere hymn-books cockin' in the pews -
A humanised abomination,
Unfit for ony congregation.
Syne, while I still was on the tenter,
I scunnered at the new prezentor;
I thocht him gesterin' an' cauld -
A sair declension frae the auld.
Syne, as though a' the faith was wreckit,
The prayer was not what I'd exspeckit.
Himsel', as it appeared to me,
Was no the man he used to be.
But just as I was growin' vext
He waled a maist judeecious text,
An', launchin' into his prelections,
Swoopt, wi' a skirl, on a' defections.

O what a gale was on my speerit
To hear the p'ints o' doctrine clearit,
And a' the horrors o' damnation
Set furth wi' faithfu' ministration!
Nae shauchlin' testimony here -
We were a' damned, an' that was clear,
I owned, wi' gratitude an' wonder,
He was a pleisure to sit under.
Sister, tha knows while we was on th' planks
Aside o' t' grave, an' the coffin set
On th' yaller clay, wi' th' white flowers top of it
Waitin'ter be buried out o' th' wet?
An' t' parson makin' haste, an' a' t' black
Huddlin' up i' t' rain,
Did t' 'appen ter notice a bit of a lass way back
Hoverin', lookin' poor an' plain?
—How should I be lookin' round!
An' me standin' there on th' plank,
An' our Ted's coffin set on th' ground,
Waitin' to be sank!
I'd as much as I could do, to think
Of 'im bein' gone
That young, an' a' the fault of drink
An' carryin's on!—
Let that be; 'appen it worna th' drink, neither,
Nor th' carryin' on as killed 'im.
—No, 'appen not,
My sirs! But I say 'twas ! For a blither
Lad never stepped, till 'e got in with your lot—
All right, all right, it's my fault! But let
Me tell about that lass. When you'd all gone
Ah stopped behind on th' pad, i' t' pourin' wet
An' watched what 'er 'ad on.
Tha should ha' seed 'er slive up when yer'd gone!
Tha should ha' seed 'er kneel an' look in
At th' sloppy grave! an' 'er little neck shone
That white, an' 'er cried that much, I'd like to begin
Scraightin' mysen as well. 'Er undid'er black
Jacket at th' bosom, an' took out
Over a double 'andful o' violets, a' in a pack
An' white an' blue in a ravel, like a clout.
An' warm, for the smell come waftin' to me. 'Er put 'er face
Right in 'em, an' scraighted a bit again,
Then after a bit 'er dropped 'em down that place,
An' I come away, acause o' th' teemin' rain.
But I thowt ter mysen, as that wor th' only bit
O' warmth as 'e got down theer; th' rest wor stone cold.
From that bit of a wench's bosom; 'e'd be glad of it,
Gladder nor of thy lillies, if tha maun be told.
Bit of a circuitous route you took to get to the point but I agree for the most part.

As for the language community, yes that's true but the language community is all those who speak that language and the Scots dialect. Scummy people who speak like Begby + Robert Burns does not nearly account for all people who speak Scots. The same way I wouldn't say a writer from London necessarily relies too heavily on Cockney to get his words across. They all rely on the language and the different ways in which it is spoken/dialects which are available to them to get across what they mean. Some do it better than others.
There's a great tradition of it in poetry. Just little of it in prose. It does work well, usually from someone native with the dialect. Otherwise it can come across as cliched, stereotyped, racist. See the Groundsman Willy comment above. There's a difference between using allowing linguistic patterns to bring something out in a character, which takes a degree of understanding, and using them to reduce or demean a character, which takes a degree of ignorance.

It's interesting to see resistance to reading dialects of English, but also resistance to reading foreign works in translation.
>Lowland Scots is a dialect of English - there is absolutely nothing exclusively Scots that is not also exclusively English. It is not a language. Gaelic is a language.
The dialect--language continuum doesn't allow for that kind of distinction.

Then again I agree that there's nothing really special about lallans and it is only racists scots that think it is something significantly from the northumbrian accent.
Not my cup of tea and generally a mild example, throwing simple German into English lyrics (only read Waste Land) isn't too different from Tolstoy mixing Russian with French. All languages spoken by at least fifty million of people, in a combination, where one would expect that an educated reader would at least have the gasp of two.

Hardly as obscure as regional Scottish dialects, Finnegans Wake or a hypothetical clusterfuck out of English-modern Greek-some Mandarin dialect-Catalonian-French and slang from Campton thrown in. Why would any sane reader fight through that?
I've heard greater music of language, economy of expression, and humour down the pub than anything expressed in my own 'national' literature. That's a problem with our literature. But it would be a greater problem if things were the other way round. Some who do it well have the thought and means to write it down, but there's many who don't even bother, hangin round talkin funny shite in bars.
I think it's fair to say that characters like Begby, Rab C, and Limmy were not created for people who do not have a passing interest interest in the lives of the Scottish underclass. Target markets, and all that.
Seems the same to me. One implicit and the other more explicit.

With one you can manipulate the interpretations more and the other naturally is more exact.

I of course prefer the ambiguity of potentials because I am a big baby.
What nationality is that?
I'm from Belfast in NI, mixed family. Father's side hails from Airdrie.
Yes, Begbie in Skagboys.

It's a nice book if you liked Trainspotting/Porno. Sort of a prequel, same group of lads but in their youth.
pretty much ruined it 2bh
Not doing it is a complete violation of show, don't tell.

It would be like starting off that chapter by saying he's speaking in a Scottish accent, and then putting it all in modern English. What if I don't know what a Scottish accent sounds like? What if he speaks mostly with that accent, but mispronounces things as well? You can't easily convey that without spelling out exactly what's being said.
Cool, something I would add though is that when you are in the moment literally living the scene it's far more likely you find things funny than when reading. If you were to get the best prose stylist in the world to recreate the scene of a joke you heard in a pub or actually experience that moment, it seems obvious which one you'd likely find funnier.

I think it's more a restriction of the medium than writers necessarily being less gifted comedically. Though I agree in a sense as the funniest people I know make me laugh more easily and longer than any book ever has and that probably none of them would make good writers
>doing it is a complete violation of show, don't tell.
Contrary to what talentless creative writing workshop teachers think, imitating Hemingway is not the only decent way to write.
It's very clearly Scottish.
You particularly are a retard.
Anyway I'll hold your hands here, really spoonfeed you.
>It's very clearly Scottish.
Great for dialogue, much more enjoyable and vivid than "he spoke in a Scottish accent."

Gets fucking exhausting if it goes on for long stretches, like OP's pic.

you'd be surprised how well you start to put together a Scottish accent in your head
It turned me off Confederacy to be terribly honest family
Wardine say her momma aint treat her right.
ahahahaha, if you're being serious you really have made a goose of yourself
I can't think of an example where show don't tell doesn't apply. Care to provide one without breaking out the Hemingway sucks meme?
I don't mind it if it's in dialogue, but it's inexcusable everywhere else.
How do you even mean 'doesn't apply'? That's like saying 'I can't think of an example where vanilla ice cream not chocolate ice cream doesn't apply'.
What I'm saying is I can't think of an example where it would be for a writer to tell instead of show. What are some examples?
It's not a meme, you jaded faggot
Dialect portrayal is a stretch to begin with because dialects are in theory non-standardised and as such only really spoken, and why does an author need to show me that a person's an incomprehensible hick instead of just telling me he's Scottish?
He's doesn't necessarily feel the need to show you anything. He's quite likely not writing for you at all.
My initial point remains
Dialect portrayal is also vulgar in that plebs are plebs are vulgar and what's vulgar is shit

Whatever your point is you make it incoherently.
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My bad
What I mean to say is that dialects are vulgar as they are spoken by vulgar people, and what's vulgar doesn't make good, pretty literature.
That's not much better. You do know that vulgar means common and not horrible or disgusting? Saying common language is spoken by common people is not insightful, cloaking it by repeating the word vulgar doesn't help.

Dialects are spoken by everyone. What you are calling dialects are simply one type of lower class dialect. There are dialects associated with upper class, wealthy or educated groups as well. Standard English, which still differs between regions, is just another dialect that has been historically regarded as having most prestige.

Your conclusion is just wrong. Hope that helps.
This is seriously triggering to me.
bump-op-a- loo-bop
Mark Twain makes me cringe, the "fooked in da bum" shit in infinite jest likewise. Most times it doesnt work, sometimes kills the whole suspension of disbelief. Strangely enough I have no problem with it in older (pre-1900 feel) lit.
It's hard to retain this knowledge so what is the point of reading this garbage? You could read this passage 100 words per minute and still not retain it, ridiculous.
Have fun missing out in Chaucer, father of English literature. Also you won't know the joys of Baudelaire and Rabelais. A good deal of literature really. One reason Dante is considered innovative is that he wrote in the more common and pedestrian language of Italian rather than in the divine tongue of Latin.
>It's very clearly Scottish.
Is this a ruse?
Indifferent to it, as to all regional literature written in dialect.
Or take out the nonstandard spellings and punctuation while preserving the word choices. It's perfectly accurate and doesn't insert an artificial degree of distance between narrator and reader. If he's using words like "bairn" I can tell that he's Scottish and would speak with some form of Scottish accent. You don't need to overdemonstrate.
>The cunt tried to say that he was just in for a fucking traffic offense, but you ken they fuckers: they lie through their fucking teeth, because they're not going to fucking well turn around and say that it was for noncing a fucking bairn. Ken what they'd fucking well get the cunts. There's always ways and means of finding out about they cunts, fucking sure there is, and I got the info from a fucking reliable source, a real fucking mate. It wasn't just jail gossip. I don't pay any fucking heed to yon shit.
This is kind of what he does with more regular speaking characters though. He only goes all out with certain characters and it does work well that way.
>tfw wardine be cry
"Some form of Scottish accent" is an interesting way to put it. I can understand your point, but it's our perspective as reader that decides what is overdemonstration. The writer, in trying to represent these characters, is first of all answerable to the kind of people he is trying to represent. You give voice to a Glasgow hood, you gotta do it well.

Would you demand Rab C to be dubbed into something more accessible to London and the US? Is "wean", for example, a word choice or a nonstandard spelling of "wee one"?

A lot of the resistance to the use of dialect in English literature in this thread has taken the form of 'hick, retard, scum, pleb, vulgar...'.

Ultimately it's a form of arrogance - it's not written for you. If you have no interest in it, pass over, and find something else.
>being this American. It's Scottish you mong.

I enjoy it when it's done well, for example in Confederacy of Dunces and in As I lay Dying.
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This is how i feel about it
:- )
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