Fluency is a funny thing. I was talking to another 43er, Taj, about this goal when we met.
And it got me to thinking. Just what is fluency? For example, I can say whatever I want in English, but sometimes I can’t follow convoluted things that other folks say (like at a particularly abstract paper in an academic conference). And I’m a native speaker of English.
I speak and read Latin reasonably well, but I need a bit of help with some of the really fancy poetry. I can get a text message on my phone and show up at the right place. For that matter, I could write this entry in Latin, but then no one might be able to read it (vel quidquid velis scribere illo modo possum). So I consider myself fluent for most purposes, though if I were to appear in ancient Rome I might only be able to get a low-skill job.
But what about Spanish? Obviously I’m not fluent. I can speak a little, but understand even less—but I can read. I read a book on the history and development of the Spanish language from antiquity to modern times. In Spanish, with no English. So clearly for that purpose, I’m fluent. But I can’t go to the local supermercado and order a half-pound of ground beef or a steak with the fat trimmed of. I wouldn’t know what to ask for. In that case, I’m not fluent.
Or in the case of Russian, I can make the alphabet out. Well enough that I navigated a visa application for my boss (all of the hotel confirmations and supporting documents were in Russian). Certainly, I derived useful communication out of the documents, but that’s not fluency.
Or is it? So just what is fluency? Is it totally situational? Like with the Russian hotel reservations. Or is it a whole package? Like the way I deal with English or Latin. Is there a sliding scale in between knowing nothing and not thinking about what the other person is communicating? Like the way I read the book in Spanish but can’t order a lean steak.
Slippery thing human language. I’m glad I’ve got it as a tool to use.
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