The Romance Language Sisters

As a teacher of Spanish and Portuguese, and as someone who has acheived near-native proficiency in both, I am often asked just how different the two languages are. Here's an analogy I've developed as an answer.

Imagine I show you a family portrait of four sisters. They appear elegant, radiant, vibrant. There are no twins among them, but they are all similar in age and you can definitely see a family air about them. The extension of each smile, the bridge of each nose, the arch of each eyebrow and the curve of each breast show variations on the same Latin family theme. In fact two of them, you decide, seem to resemble each other very closely indeed.

After I show you the portrait, I introduce them to you in person, and you exchange a few words with each of the four sisters. You learn that their appearance was no indicator of how they speak, because the two that you had previously categorized together by physical resemblance, you have now split apart by speech, each with one of the remaining two sisters. Two of the four, although speaking different languages, seem to speak quite nasally and slide more often between their words, while the other two speak with non-nasal, sharp, clear vowels in their also distinct languages. Among the four of them, they seem to be able to understand each other to some extent, though this varies by context and speaker.

Finally you learn their names and the key to the analogy. The two who look the most similar of face and body are named Spanish and Portuguese. But Spanish, when speaking, shares with her sister Italian the use of sharp, clear vowels, while Portuguese, and her sister French, speak with a greater range of vowels, including nasal ones, as well as slipperier-sounding consonants.

The analogy is not perfect. What about the extended family, with sisters like Catalan, Galician, Haitian Creole, and Romanian? What about dialects and other variations within one language, such as Continental vs. Brazilian Portuguese? Obviously it is a more complex issue than my simple portrayal allows; however, I find that at least for the typical perceptions of most Anglophones, the humble little analogy proves insightful for characterizing (if not explaining) the visual similarities between written Portuguese and Spanish, as well as the spoken affinities between Italian and Spanish, and between French and Portuguese.

Palenque: Luna llena

Esa noche la robamos del día:
Del día, con sus turistas,
la noche plena, húmeda, tropical.
Y la luna llena, de pilón.

Dejamos atrás las hamacas alquiladas
de Semana Santa,
mil novecientos ochenta y nueve.

El guía nos llevó sigilosos por el sendero selvático.
Presagio de sensaciones prohibidas.

Entramos en el recinto fosforescente
de cal iluminada, de hueso pulido y relamido
por la lengua de la luna.

Subimos una colina y presenciamos hechizados
la llegada de un singular shamán emplumado,
que arrojaba plegarias canturreadas desde la base
de la Pirámide de las Inscripciones.

Esquivamos el rito solitario y subimos
donde no debimos:
alturas del Observatorio,
alturas del viaje de los hongos alucinógenos
ofrecidos de repente, pero casi de obligación.

Calamos, bajo estrellas multiplicadas,
horizontes milenarios
y no por eso nunca antes vistos.

De regreso por la selva túrgida
nos detuvimos en el Baño de la Princesa
a nadar como recién nacidos,
desnudos como tímpanos enteros y estirados
entre la urgencia retumbante de las ranas
y la nítida sordez del sagrado mundo sumergido.

En algún momento regresamos
sin consecuencias evidentes.
Sin embargo es mentira,
porque sigo allá en Palenque,
tendido en una hamaca de vibraciones,
en sueños repercusivos,
en ecos que se alejan
sólo cuando no se aproximan.

Como la luna.

El cofre de tesoro

Hallarás este cofre de tesoro

en alguna antología ocultada,

y una vez la gran tapa levantada,

verás puras frases labradas de oro.

Voces, palabras, y signos de un foro,

las letras en multitud combinada,

formarán la escena cristalizada:

mímicas del habla, como de un loro.

No podrás vencer la amarga sorpresa.

No hay cálice, corona ni amuleto,

ni rastros de piratería ilesa.

Mas descubrirás el magno secreto:

el cofre es la poética belleza,

y el único botín, este soneto.

cada quem

tem quem fala dormido e de pé, né?
tem quem não percebe o fluxo da maré,
o empurrão do sangue,
o pestanejo da lua,
nem mesmo estando
mergulhado
na faísca de estrelas e ondas.
tem quem não pode perceber
nem conceber
a vitalidade de cada
momento de cada
um de
cada
cá dá
cadê
a consciência do
cada
QUEM?