An overeducated rant, directed against one Michael Heim, author of Contemporary Czech:
I don’t know what things are like on your planet, but most Earthlings who learn a foreign language want to speak it. Not recite paradigms in it, not change masculine pronouns to feminine ones and vice versa, and not learn grammatical rules and counter-rules to the point where they’d be terrified to carry on a conversation even if they had the vocabulary. We do not need to learn all the cases, verb tenses, and pronouns in the first month. The idea is to practice the basic stuff until you can actually use it in conversation. There’ll be time for the hard bits later. Right now we must talk.
Oh, you say, but I did include some sample conversations in the book. Let’s take a look at some of them, shall we?
In lesson four, we learn how to say “How many novels by Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy do you have?”
In lesson five, we learn “They say that this book deals with interesting problems of both Czech and Russian literature,” and “A symbol interests us not only for what it represents, but also for what it is.”
In lesson seven: “‘People’ is mainly an ethnographic term, but for certain philosophers it also has a political meaning.”
In lesson eight: “I invited several of my students who are interested in the French nouveau roman and modern French literature in general.”
In lesson ten: “Although several of her heroes are aware of the tragic quality of life as a whole, even in these instances there can be no talk of the author’s paying special attention to their psychology.”
In lesson eleven, we learn how to tell time and make small talk about the weather.
At no point do your students learn how to order food in a restaurant, go shopping, talk about what they do for fun, make a doctor’s appointment, ask for directions, check into a hotel, read a train timetable, or call the fire department. Apparently, they have research assistants to do these things for them. (How the research assistants will learn enough Czech to pull this off is another question, but it certainly won’t be from your book.)
OK, I guess you probably thought you were writing for academics, but have you ever met an academic? Do you know they have lives, like everyone else? Hath not an academic senses, organs, dimensions, hobbies, interests, addictions? Do you realize how important it is for an academic to be able to form one of the following sentences:
“I would like a cup of coffee.”
“May I please have a cup of coffee?”
Your book doesn’t give me the slightest clue how to say either of these things in Czech, but I just might be able to manage:
“I shall be obliged to relocate your literary institute to a nouveau site within your posterior orifice if I do not instantaneously receive a portion of caffeinated liquid. With milk.”
That’ll do.