DeConstructing the Language of Sebbou

My latest novel is out now. THE MASTERS' RIDDLE is a science fiction epic in which an alien being is captured by members of a mysterious race. The bulk of the novel is this alien's attempts to return home...to his home planet of Sebbol. Although the novel is in English, of course, there are moments when the alien speaks - which I do partly for flavoring the scene, partly for expressing emotion, partly for fun. I like alien languages.

I first encountered alien languages in my science fiction trilogy, THE DREAM LAND, set partially on the planet of Ghoupallesz. There I had the principal language most residents used, plus three languages used by peripheral societies. With a background in linguistics, I relished the opportunity to create full-functioning languages (and even included some quirks so they were not so perfect...like real languages). (Read more about inventing languages here.) I used them where relevant whenever we have:

1) the names of things with no equivalent word in English;

2) the phrases spoken by the native speakers;

3) the phrases spoken in reply by Earth characters who know the native language;

4) the words/phrases which are added here and there to help lend authenticity to the scene.

I recognize that having extensive passages in other-than-English is tedious for a reader. Thus, I try to limit myself to following a few rules when writing with alien languages (or Earth languages other than English, for example the Hindi spoken by Indians in my India novel about tiger hunting).

Rule 1. When the character hears spoken words which happen to be in the other language, I write out some of it. This is literally what the character hears, even if he doesn't understand it.  I can then explain what it means, as appropriate to the scene. For example, an announcement over a loudspeaker.

Rule 2. When a character literally speaks in a language other than English - because the character does not know English or chooses to speak in another language - I either provide a simple unobtrusive translation or otherwise tell the reader what was said. I do not want to give up the authenticity of the scene by avoiding the foreign language. For example, whenever it is vital that the character speak his own native language (which I give at least a clue as to what it means).

In THE MASTERS' RIDDLE, there are intelligent beings from several worlds. I give each its own language although for the most part I tell the story in English. How can they communicate with each other? An advanced species would have elevated means of communication. First, there is vocalization...which is not going to be understood no matter how well heard. Next is the attempt to communicate visually with facial expressions, hand gestures, and making marks on a surface or circumscribing designs in the air. I have them doing the 'Vulcan mind-meld' in some instances, where one being touches the other and through that neural network connection they can communicate. And a few other clever methods.

But what do they communicate? Not a system of language which one of them would not know. They can only communicate raw ideas - simple ideas, basic information without nuance. No metaphors, idioms, or slang. Even when two beings knowing different languages communicate through telepathy (no physical contact; mind to mind) the effect can only be this fundamental level of ideation: e.g., 'Go, sit, there.' rather than 'Would you please step over to that rock and have a seat there?'

When I worked on Ghoupallean, the main language used on Ghoupallesz, I devised the complete grammar and lexicon, made a thick dictionary of the language, learned to speak some of it - to the dismay of people around me in public venues. For THE MASTERS' RIDDLE I held back. Sure there are a few phrases our hero speaks in Sebbou, the native language of Sebbol, described variously as chirps, squeaks, and squeals. Not a commanding language at all. It is difficult for this alien to lead the ragtag gang of other species but he possesses a unique feature which gives him an advantage: his inner Ru. 

The inner Ru is a homunculus-like entity inside the mind, a miniature man, which both advises and translates. I imagined this little being much as I pondered the drawings of Plato's allegory: a cave with someone writing on the walls. Much of the writing was actually drawing, a visual language, thinking in images rather than abstract marks that made up a formal script to represent the phonetics.

Therefore, Sebbou takes the form in the novel mostly as category 1 above: things which do not directly translate into English, primarily the names of flora, fauna, and geologic features of planet Sebbol. There are a few direct phrases which help show the way of thinking of the Aull who live on Sebbol, the way myth informs their society.

In one scene of instruction, the mentor speaks a Sebbou phrase taken from our hero's mind:

“The Process is what you do with your mind to tear space apart and project body through tangent opening. Do with power of mind, which can be greatest force in the universe. Bio-chemical, electro-chemical energies created in the brain of an advanced creature, applied to engineering problems, can move mountains—sometimes planets. Or, as you say on your world, to ‘raise the stars’.”

Toog’s face flashed bronze. “^sT’_n Ra’_q.”

“You remember expression from childhood? Took from your mind, from memories of childhood training, so can understand. Is true. This power, when focused on right spot and increased to right magnitude can rip curtain between two sides of universe. At such a moment, while rending this curtain, step through to other world.”

The phrase is a common expression and means something significant to our Aull friend and it makes him press on with his lessons. The initial /s/ is a polite hiss which initiates all speech in Aull society. The /T/ with apostrophe represents /t/ with a trailing vowel huff. The falling /n/ is a gutteral utterance. The /R/ is a strong consonant followed by a longer vowel represented by /a/ and the same apostrophic huff. The final /q/ is an emphatic grunt which acts as a conclusion in Sebbou. Therefore, 'Tin rai q'  means “raise the stars”. 

Let's try it:  s (high-pitched hiss) T (with a huff) n (deep in throat) R (almost trilled) a (normal vowel, add huff) kh (unvoiced growl)

Not bad. It's easier if you have the oral apparatus of the Aull throat and mouth. They are, after all, descendent from amphibians. If you can't do it, don't worry. You got the idea. (A glossary is included at the end of the book, if you're curious about Sebbou.)

I wanted to get on with the story rather than indulge in linguistic play, so these kind of direct expressions of Sebbou are kept to the minimum. I tell what they all say, as they communicate mostly through mind-meld or telepathy. The languages are not the main point of the story but are something real that needs to be accounted for in the story. We cannot pretend beings from different planets can all speak the same language. That would not be realistic. I am not a member of Starfleet and I do not possess a handy communicator device (although the Masters in one scene do employ a similar machine). 

But supposing these various characters happened to be in this setting with this problem? How would they communicate with each other in order to solve their problem? That's the point we have to operate with throughout the book. It's all about what's real.

NEXT: Summer vacation reading list.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2021 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

DeConstructing the Aull of Sebbol in THE MASTERS' RIDDLE

After a lifetime of imagining and the past 12 years of publishing, THE MASTERS' RIDDLE is my first novel with a non-human protagonist - not counting the tiger in my previous book Year of the Tiger who had a human-like way of thinking. I've always liked to set challenges for myself just to see if I can pull them off (see my effort in Epic Fantasy *With Dragons, or perhaps check out my vampire trilogy). For the most part I think I succeed. In every one of my novels, whether contemporary literary or science-fiction/fantasy, I delve into the gray areas of the human condition, exploring the why and why not of the situation. In part, that may be my own attempt to understand why we do what we do. Sometimes the best way to explore the human condition is through the mind of a non-human.

Our hero is called Toog, a member of the species called Aull living on the planet they call Sebbol. (You can read about the origins of The Masters' Riddle in my previous blog post.) As you learned in my previous post, our hero originally was basically a human from the same world I used for my Dream Land trilogy, then gradually transformed completely into a non-human entity as I wrote the story. Here I will describe Toog as the kind of Aull he/she became by the mid-point of the novel.

Artist's rendition of Sebbol

The planet Sebbol is in a system many light-years from Earth, a lucky find for the mysterious Masters who arrive through interdimensional portals and capture whatever beings interest them. Toog is caught in one sweep and brought back to the Masters' home world, a frozen place he soon discovers. Sebbol is a warm planet, tropical, full of watery resorts and lush in foliage - at least in the district where Toog lived. Like most planets, the terrain and climate vary from north to south. With only a 6 degree tilt (compared to Earth's 23 degrees), Sebbol turns on its axis in 30 "short-cycles" which equate to hours. The planet revolves around its sun, which they call Uf, in 668 "long-cycles" which equate to days. One revolution of their sun is called a "sun-cycle" (translation from Sebbou). All of this makes for a world with little change in seasons and long days and long years.

Because of its watery nature, the Aull evolved from amphibious ancesters. The Aull continue to conceive and are born in a nutrient-rich swamp they call a "skarg" - as opposed to a more open water area called "abo". The skarg is dense water, usually choked with plants and usually containing other fauna, but it is to these murky bogs that the Aull go for mating and return to deposit their "orb" when it transmigrates out of the female's belly to become a self-contained sphere. The orb absorbs nutrients from the skarg until it has grown sufficiently that the parents retrieve it and bring it to their abode.

At first, the "springling" is only a translucent sphere with rudimentary arms and legs, living in a swinging basket which simulates the ebb and flow of the water in the skarg. The arms and legs continue to grow until everything is transformed into an upright being able to walk and swim, called a "midling". Young Aull, like children and youth in most societies, learn the rules of their community and learn skills which are useful to the community. When an Aull has reached the milestone of no longer birthing new orbs, they achieve an emeritus status and are sought for their wisdom.

Aull society is divided into villages which tend to specialize in food production. Toog's village focuses on gardening, bringing vegetables and fruit to market. Other villages keep animals used for food. There is much trade among villages. The society is rigidly ordered, headed by a shaman - who is led by a high shaman in the district - and members of the village each have a role. If an Aull cannot work they are shunned or exiled, or the family may feed them from their own portions. It is not a cruel method; rather, it is necessary so that food stocks are not needlessly given to members who cannot contribute to the village - as happens in the story.

The Aull are born androgynous, neither male nor female, and it is the village shaman that determines whether the springling will be male or female - depending on the village's situation, trying to keep the sexes equal in number and to provide for the skills needed. Toog happened to be designated male, although it is the female whose sexual appendage is longer when unfolded (see the appendix in the book for further explanation).

The Aull are a pre-industrial, mostly agrarian culture with religion and myths and customs, generally a pacifist society who are forced to prepare to fight the Masters. However, Aull are ill-equiped for such battle - unlike other beings captured by the Masters that Toog encounters. The adult Aull has sleek silvery skin over the head, torso, two arms and two legs. The rubbery arms end in hands with two pairs of opposing fingers, the second finger a knuckle longer and tipped with a digging claw. A heel pad can project to act as another finger or as a defensive weapon. The legs end in feet which seem too large for the body but serve well in watery situations where swimming is required. Each foot has four clawed toes which may flatten as the soles harden depending on the environment.

Moving from the warm, tropical environment of Sebbol to the harsh, arctic clime of the Masters' world causes an Aull's skin to change from silver to blue. Continued stress will cause the blue skin to fade to dull gray, even white, and become nearly translucent when in dire conditions such as starvation.

The body of an Aull is roughly humanoid - that is, looking like a human - but is not classified as human. The globe-shaped head features two large eyes in round sockets, no eye brows or brow ridges, and the eye lids open and close in a spiral motion like a camera lens. The nose does not project but has two flaps which can close it while underwater - or in a gaseous environment. The mouth entrance is small and round, even rows of uniform planet-cutting teeth inside. Due to the round head, there is no chin and the neck is limited. Inside the body, the skeleton of an Aull is more cartilage than bone. It has been noted by scientists that the Aull has a heart with three chambers and a stomach with three chambers. The Aull also has three small organs for which there are not equivalents in humans. 

A poor representation of an Aull

It is also noted that in times of stress, the Aull's suppressed defensive measures may become operative. Barbs and spines may erupt. A noxious gas may be produced to halt attackers. Electricity may be compiled and "shot" out at attackers. The best weapon, however, may be the extraordinary breadth of knowledge of the Aull's "inner Ru" - the homunculus which every Aull carries inside its head. (I have provided an appendix in the book which explains the latest examination of this phenomena. Another appendix explains the mating ritual in more detail than above here.) 

A few times, another being refers to Toog as a "frog" or "toad" or notes his/her amphibious heritage - but this is not to say that there is a direct correspondence. Some of Toog's features are more congruous to an octopus, for example. It is generally impossible to say that this is like that or the Aull is just an intelligent "frog" walking upright. The Aull is a separate and unique species of intelligent being who simply wish to be left alone - certainly not harassed by the Masters.

Other beings captured by the Masters run the gamut of other upright, two-legged creatures to worm-like beings, four-legged beings, reptilian and mammalian mostly. In the early days, the Masters took whatever seemed interesting. Later they took only the kind of beings that were best suited for certain uses. For example, the Xmburrhaltin beings, large fur-covered ape-like creatures were a good fit for the slave labor camps. Other beings had properties from which medicines could be developed - or industrial strength glue. Yet the being called Ra'aa'al was merely a spirit that inhabited other creatures' bodies. It is an iguana-type creature who Ra'aa'al inhabits when Toog meets the being from Ra’a’am’mas’sandiit. While many modern sci-fi films tend to employ insect-like alien beings as the ugly enemy - I do have one mantis-like creature just for show (and an out of place human for comic relief) - the Masters would likely kill first any such insect things they encountered rather than bring them back.

Some of the captives, once free, are determined to fight the Masters while others just want to go home. Yet how can they go home if home is on another planet? The only way is through the interdimensional doorway guarded by the Masters. 

I looked far and wide for artwork which most closely resembled the creatures in my head but, of course, did not find. I tasked my cover artist with making a collection of the main characters like a movie poster but that idea proved too ambitious. We decided to focus on Toog, the main character, but drawing him as described was daunting also (and given my artist's other commitments). So we opted for the single-image cover: a clawed hand, looking rather ominous, which may to some readers suggest a horror story but which is only meant to suggest a non-human protagonist.

Anyway, it is done now. I know how it ends. Are the Masters destroyed? Do the beings from other worlds get home? Is balance restored in the universe? Are the Aull of Sebbol saved from extinction? Only Toog will know the answers when he solves THE MASTERS' RIDDLE.

NEXT: The language of the Aull, Sebbou

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(C) Copyright 2010-2021 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

The Riddle behind THE MASTERS' RIDDLE

These days it's often a surprise when I open my eyes and discover I'm not really in the dream I was having after all. It's momentarily disconcerting and I usually wish to remain asleep to continue in that realm of fiction. I've heard the term 'lucid dreaming' used to describe the variety of slumber stories wherein the dreamer is an active participant, directing the dream as though directing a cinematic drama. I am an actor in that drama, as well. I am also its audience and its most ardent critic. I also sell tickets.

Being in the dream is what being the reader of a novel is all about. If it's a good book, I forget where I am, where I came from, my home world, as it were, while in the pages of text. Perhaps that's my special ability: to conjure in my mind all sorts of strange things, organize them into a coherent and compelling narrative such that others who attempt to enter the world I create will be likewise mesmerized into forgetting their true existence outside the pages. 

I've always known I would grow older, but I never quite imagined growing old. There were advantages to growing older but none, so far as I can see, in growing old. The stories are not better. I'm compelled to go back to my youth and dig around there to find something to work on now. That leads me to the starting point of my latest novel, a science fiction epic (in scope, not length) titled THE MASTERS' RIDDLE. Mind the apostrophe placement for I intend the reference to be plural and possessive. The riddle belongs to all of them. It is a collective riddle. 

So, in the twilight of just-before-sleeping and in the throes of just-before-awakening, I have come to realize exactly how this novel began. Ideas will come and go like traffic on a highway and some of them catch my eye or even dare me to crash into them, and that is this:

One day in my teenage years I returned home bitter and broken and threw myself down upon my bed. I have no recollection what might have thrashed me; in those days it likely could have been my crush of the week who did not know I existed and who may have turned away to go on to class without ever seeing me pining away for her and taking her innocent rejection of me, having never noticed my presence among a throng of students in the corridor, as a measure of my worth in society. 

Regardless of the exact nature of the instigating factor, I lay on my bed, my back to the bedspread - my mother always insisted on making the bed each morning - and I placed my hands up beside my head in some kind of horizontal surrender gesture. As I lay there, I began to wonder what it would be like - a common wonder of the time - to be a prisoner, moreover, a prisoner who was fixed to his bunk by having his hand bolted to the surface of that bunk or bed or floor or whatever thing he lay upon. So I lay there imagining the sensations I would experience. Perhaps that was a kind of Asperger's syndrome thing - which I didn't have any knowledge of back then. The result was a new story - part of one, anyway. I got to my manual typewriter and tapped out a rudimentary version of what you now have as Chapter 1. That was it; that was all. And it sat for many years.

Then, in 2014, urged on by fellow writers, I participated in the great National Novel Writing Month competition (NaNoWriMo) in which we are challenged to write 50,000 words within a month, the minimum length for a novel. I searched my files for a suitable idea worthy of such a month, something which would excite me and drive my writing forward. I chose my scrap of story idea: a captured alien (i.e., someone from another world than Earth) who had to escape and get home.

Because I had, by then, completed my sci-fi steampunkish epic THE DREAM LAND Trilogy which involved another world accessed via an interdimensional doorway, I saw my prisoner protagonist as another human-like person but from the planet that serves as the setting for much of the Dream Land trilogy. However, as I wrote further during that November, my alien became little by little less human. I got way off track by the end of the month. I got way past his escape (that's not a spoiler because if he doesn't escape we don't have a story) and . . . umm, other spoiler bits . . . when the month ended. I had composed 55,555 words and "won" the competition. But the story and the novel were not yet finished. 

I stopped at a bad place, a natural pause in the plot which did not have any planning for what would come next. A deadly situation. So it was natural for me to set it aside and work on other projects. I dabbled on THE MASTERS' RIDDLE a bit once in a while. I tried to think of a better title, which dated from that angst-ridden horizontal imagining of my youth but could not come up with one - so I embraced the title and decided to play further on the riddle motif right to the end. One thing I did in the interim was to insert a whole chapter in the middle of what I'd already written for NaNoWriMo which takes us back to our hero's home and the "people" there who wonder what has happened to our hero. Then back to the prison planet we go to continue the story.

All right, great, got this far, now how to proceed? It was turning into something very interesting to me, especially after I let my protagonist completely shed his/her human persona and be his/her alien self - totally and unabashedly non-human. All of his/her cohort were non-human, too. That allowed me to delve into different biology, mythology, and languages. Those alien features enabled many plot twists that would have been unavailable to a human protagonist. But where to go next? As someone who may have been a great writer whose name has been long forgotten (by me, at least) once allegedly said: If in doubt start again . . . maybe from way over there.

So I did. I introduced a new character out of the blue. The idea was to show my alien protagonist's view of where he was then show his enemy's view of the same world. Now wouldn't that be interesting? Then they meet. What could go wrong, right? Thus began part two from a completely different point of view . . . for a while. Then they meet under difficult circumstances. Now we see our hero from someone else's perspective. Neat, huh? Most of the remainder of the novel is the two of them working at cross-purposes and in reversed roles - e.g., the prisoner becomes the warden while the guard becomes the prisoner. In this way I can show more angles of the story prism.

But there is still that pesky riddle to solve. Fortunately in fiction all answers are available. Perhaps the answer is the riddle itself. All one needs is a spirit guide to lead the way to discovery of the meaning of everything. And the discovery of that answer will save our hero's society from extinction - a not unworthy goal even bigger than simply returning home to family and a job with stories to tell.

Perhaps I've raved enough at the light of day, calling the dogs of night once more, and should halt before the gates of spoilers open wide. For that is all ye know and all ye can know for the remainder of time . . . or until the last page is turned. I keep stating unequivocally that THE MASTERS' RIDDLE is my last novel - but I said the same after EPIC FANTASY *WITH DRAGONS for I believed then that I had said everything I wanted to say about everything and had nothing more to add. I have no other projects well enough along that I could expect to finish them soon, but I will continue to write . . . something. Who knows if it will be something that is eventually completed and foisted upon an undeserving world. Only the goddesses know for sure.

NEXT: The amazing world of the Aull of Sebbol.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2021 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

Independence Day: Not the Movie

Dear Independents,

Most of the past several Julys (Julies?) I've been posting your summer reading list and then fleeing to parts unknown. Not this year. Last July was the lockdown. Before that I did a driving tour of Canada. Prior to that I went to China four Julies in a row to teach at a university. Before that I taught a class at my own university. Earlier Julys have faded but I remember a lot of summer classes as a student, a few days near a beach, more days indoors next to the air conditioner, and a little dip in a pool or two.

However, as fate would have it, I have a new book launching today. It's a science fiction novel about an alien (undocumented non-human being?) who through no fault of his (her? its?) own is captured by a mysterious race (species?) that tortures and enslaves him. This cruel treatment leads him to want to escape, moreover to return to his home and be with his family. But there are obstacles, of course, or we wouldn't have a good plot. 

There is no direct connection between this story and Independence Day, commonly known as 4th of July. I looked back to past July blog posts and found none that had an American holiday theme. So I suppose I'll have to start one since I'm still around today.

Yes, it's been a tough time lately. Almost everyone has suffered in a multitude of ways. I think I've skated by fairly well unscathed by all the happenings, both viral and social. I've never been a big rah-rah kind of guy but I can get choked up by some displays of patriotism, the same bald-faced nationalism that most nations have on their birthdays.

Then part of me says "now wait a minute" and I can easily list some things "we" (people long gone ahead of me?) got wrong, did wrong, or failed to do when it should've been done. It's a complicated history, we understand, and one that cannot be told in black and white. We try, but the grays (not the aliens!) are overwhelming. Take any geographical area, any group of people, any planet of intelligent creatures, and there will be the good and the bad - and for movie buffs also the ugly. 

There: I said it. Now let us work toward returning to the righteous path, staying the course, keeping to one's lane, and/or being the best we can be. It's not too difficult. Some people I know like to say we should treat people how we would want to be treated. This may seem a bit narcissistic to some of us. Or not. All is in the mote of the eye of the beholder. But we can still dream, can't we?

(No, I'm not drunk. Just short of sleep and typing too fast. But you get the idea.)

So why not give my latest novel a good read, be filled with the wisdom of First Goddess and hope you return home before it's too late, as our friend Toog wishes. It's kind of like The Shawshank Redemption but with aliens. Actually I've never seen more than a passing minute of it. And, yes, an interdimensional portal. And alien languages, some inter-species seduction, and new military hardware on a frozen, dying world. Perfect for a read beside the pool or on the beach.

Note: there is an actual human among the captives, but this is just for comic relief.

Thanks in advance. Enjoy!

Sincerely,

The Author

Here is a handy dandy link to the Kindle version (click on the word 'Kindle').

Here is a professionally designed link to the Paperback edition (click on the word 'Paperback').

NEXT: The insider info dump about THE MASTERS' RIDDLE.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2021 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.