First of all, I noticed my aversion to the Diena interviewers' habit of quoting their interlocutors, characterising the attitude of their responses with the word "smej" (laughs). Diena interviews are not immediately accessible to me right now, so I will limit myself to an example from TVNET:
Javelin thrower Madara Palameika laughs that she feeds her dog the same thing she eats herself.
It really seems that this way of responding is considered stylistically refined in writing circles – this is suggested, for example, by the appearance of "smej" in the provincial press:
"No, every Grūbe is not my relative," laughs Antra in this year's 23 May issue of Talsu Vēstis.
However, "smej" now seems like mere child's play compared to the repulsive "iesmiet" (to laugh at), which has gained momentum in the so-called blogging sphere, even if it is also used by publications such as Ir (Kristīne Simsone on the zombie animation "ParaNorman"), out of a desire to accommodate the masses:
Moreover, the film's authors also wittily manage to laugh at normality...
As happens with such unpleasant words, their tackiness quickly becomes infectious, especially among those writers who, in their quest for stylistic beautification of language, immediately fall into the traps prepared by clichés. Good style is solely and exclusively individual, but the attempt to achieve an emotional effect on the reader or to belong to the "in-crowd" leads to a poor collective style, including the author among many poorly writing scribblers. A breeding ground for bad style, among others, is the internet; admittedly, it also offers an environment of lively colloquial speech where one can take a breath from normative literarism.
Most likely, the aforementioned use of "smej" has no direct connection to the barbaric "iesmiet", which exists almost exclusively in the lexicon of internet writers; however, one can hear in it a tendency to bestow the necessary emotional nuance upon the written word with a sort of Latvianized old-fashioned expression:
having a little laugh at the boys again.
There is no room for argument: with one "stroke of the pen", the writer very clearly characterizes not the boys, but herself, even though that, undoubtedly, was not her goal. It is possible that she either does not hear anything untoward in the use of "iesmiet", or she uses the word to fit stylistically into a specific chat environment.
"Iesmiet par" (to laugh at) is used widely, yet you will not find such a grammatical form in any Latvian dictionary.[1. An exception, albeit without examples, is Mīlenbahs' dictionary, where one can read: "iesmiet – verlachen machen, lächerlich werden lassen, verspotten machen", namely, the word is used with the meaning "to make ridiculous", "to mock".] And it is a pity, because the use of this word would require a correct explanation; as none exists, it must be assumed that we understand what is meant by the word anyway. Strangely enough, the meaning of the word "iesmiet" has nothing to do with laughing. I was able to verify this easily when, among the "iesmiet" usages found by a search engine, "smiet" also popped up:
Kas Jauns invited the popular Latvian sign researcher and sun-aligner Ivo Puriņš to evaluate what he sees in these paintings, which daily address our Minister of Finance. Having examined the works, Puriņš began to laugh.
We can only guess whether the "popular Latvian sign researcher and sun-aligner" actually laughed or started to jeer, that is, "laughed at". When we read, for example:
A dead ringer for Putin spotted in the Moscow metro .. It is not good to laugh at a person like that, but ..,
we understand well that instead of "iesmiet par cilvēku" (laugh at a person), one could easily use "izsmiet cilvēku" (mock a person) here. However, there are some stylistic reasons (vulgarisation of style by transferring it to the negative object being described?) that make, for example, politician Roberts Zīle, when speaking about Nils Ušakovs, use the word "iesmiet" instead of "izsmiet":
After all, as can be seen in Latvia, there are no political consequences for that, and besides, one can also laugh at the occupation of Latvia while publishing one's records of cyclist achievements.
But "izsmiet" is by no means the only meaning of the neologism "iesmiet". The slang potential has made the word popular among jokers, satisfying their desire to "show off" in some particularly mocking way. This use of the word can be well understood if we accept that "iesmiet" is what Jānis Skutelis does. The meaning of this word is expressed clearly and brightly in a news item in this year's 8 January Salaspils Vēstis (! – U.T.):
On 20 January, the local comedian and writer Maksims Trivaškevičs will hold a standup comedy show at the Salaspils youth club "Zibsnis", during which the audience will have the chance to laugh at the common and differing aspects of countries and languages ..
A wit on a blog with the mocking title "Force Texts Created by Natural Intelligence" even tries to laugh at the use of the word "iesmiet" itself:
To laugh at or to violate, in my opinion, also means to rape?
Perhaps in this entry the conjunction "vai" (or) is used somewhat playfully, but in the sources accessible to me, this is the only instance where a writer has addressed the usage of the language itself in connection with "iesmiet". Meanwhile, for example, the entry
All the participants are humour-boys; black humour is especially close and popular, which makes one smile or laugh at life and everything that is happening around us.
The author of the sentence with the conjunction "vai" (or) most likely means "jeb" (or), namely, the words "pasmaidīt" (to smile) and "iesmiet" (to laugh at) are used here as synonyms, slightly softening the sneering potential of the word. Shifting the meanings a little further, the word can quite unexpectedly acquire a tinge of despair, just like in Raimonds Pauls' song with lyrics by Austra Skujiņa, performed by Rolands Zagorskis: "Do not laugh tonight, my friend Pagliaccio, your laughing face is trembling with tears." For a look, as an example, this woeful entry, entrusted to the internet:
A sad day today. so it would be worth laughing at something, but I don't know what..., I don't want to [laugh] at myself, I've already laughed.., what then?
In such cases of usage, we are already talking about a specific state of soul that forces one to laugh sardonically at everyone and everything; in a more brutal form of expression, "iesmiet" might no longer be used, but instead "ierēkt" (to roar with laughter/sneer), as, for example:
Igors Linga: I have an innate sense of humour. I can sneer at everyone. After life, I am more of a nihilist, in principle I couldn't care less.
I must admit, however, that I may have some different sense of humour, and it really has nothing to do with "sneering". Yet, I could be wrong; no one has granted me the right to speak about the living language from a position of superiority, if even a book-reading being like Kristīne Sadovska calmly permits herself to say (although she is speaking, so to speak, on behalf of the author she is promoting):
The sincerity in this phrase harmonises wonderfully with the humour and the ability to sneer at oneself ..
Indeed, the ways of language are inscrutable. It turns out that "iesmiet" can be used not only with the preposition "par" (about/at), but also with the conjunction "ka" (that), which slightly reminds one of the already mentioned use of "smiet" introduced by Diena:
At the first moment, one wants to grimace and laugh that Barack is such a typical American that, even having reached the White House, he cannot give up hamburgers.
However, upon reflecting more carefully on the possible meaning, most likely this sentence simply contains the shortened form "iesmiet par to, ka .." (to laugh at the fact that ..), and it is no longer interesting to talk about that. Therefore, I will stop with a borrowed commentary to the lines of poetry "I laugh / warmly at its / face" (by the way, not a bad poem at all[2."1 small / yellow / leaf / this morning / in the mailbox / tries / to convince me / that I am already / calm / it tries / to make me / like / it – / having fallen / from a tree I laugh / warmly at its / face and fly / on to be." ]):
Thank you, my dear, for making me smile and laugh heartily! May all the good spirits stand in your way and may the summer sun warm your cheeks! Things are going ever more charmingly with the poetry writing.
Or rather, I could stop here, but one more aspect of "iesmiet" gives me no peace, namely, the prefix "ie-". The words "iesmiet" and "ierēkt" obviously do not correspond to any use of the prefix "ie-" known to Latvian language dictionaries in connection with a verb. "Iesmiet" does not indicate "that the action takes place in an inward direction – iebraukt (drive in), ieliet (pour in), ieraut (pull in), iesaukt (call in)"; it does not indicate "that with the action one encompasses or includes – ielenkt (encircle), iemūrēt (wall in), ietīt (wrap), iežogot (fence in)"; it does not indicate "the beginning of an action – iedarbināt (start), iekustināt (set in motion), ierūcināt (make roar)"; it does not indicate "that with the action something is prepared for further action – iebraukt (break in a horse), iepļaut (mow in a scythe), iestaigāt (break in boots), iestrādāt (cultivate soil)"; it does not indicate "incompleteness of action or a small degree of action – ieplēst (tear slightly), ieskrambāt (scratch slightly), iekrāsot (colour slightly)", nor "durability or persistence of action – ieilgt (prolong), iespītēties (become stubborn), ietiepties (be stubborn)", nor "completion of action – iedot (give), iegādāt (acquire), iegūt (obtain), iemācīties (learn), iemidzināt (put to sleep), iesist (hit)", and it also does not indicate "that with the action one influences (someone) in one's own favour – iedzirdināt (make someone drink), ieēdināt (make someone eat)".
What, then, after all, does this mysterious "ie-" indicate in the word "iesmiet"? Unfortunately, I do not know, and I am unlikely to find out. But I have a bad suspicion that "iesmiet" (really to laugh at) could have some connection to "ietusēt" (to go party), namely, that the origin of the word should be sought in its connection with youth slang, where this "ie-" is relatively common, well, for example: "iepūst" (with the meaning "blow me"); "iebraukt" (with the meaning "to understand" or with the meaning "to punch in the face", although that, perhaps, is no longer youth slang, but there is "iedot tablo" (give a punch)); "ielogoties" (with the meaning "to log in to one's profile"); "iemest" (pa lampu) (to drink alcohol); and, it turns out, one can also say "iemērkt" (to dip/screw) (regarding a man's activity in sexual intercourse).
An indirect answer, perhaps, could be sought in another colloquial word "ievērtēt" (to evaluate/check out), although in this case, there is nowhere near such a wealth of meanings as in the word "iesmiet". Reading
Please check out a naked lady from Ludza
or
Grandchildren suggested checking out the Eurosong,
I fail to see any difference in meaning between "ievērtēt" and the word "novērtēt" (to evaluate), well, or in a narrower sense – "izvērtēt" (to assess).
"Ievērtēt" in 2013 was a contender for the title of "non-word of the year" alongside "šarmēt" (to charm) and "amizēt" (to amuse). This may testify to the language sense of our terminologists, but unfortunately not to their patriotism. Because as early as 10 February 1940, Latvian President Kārlis Ulmanis said (I quote a little more broadly):
And I will add that this year, 1940, will also be a heavy year. We are protected from war. Good, let us rejoice in that and be consciously grateful in our hearts so that we can properly appreciate and repay it with our work and our efforts. Repay – to whom? To ourselves!
Unfortunately, "appreciating" (ievērtēt) the fact that "we are protected from war" and rejoicing, not to mention "repaying ourselves", did not happen. I assume that it was precisely 1940 and the years that followed that were the reason why the word "ievērtēt" almost disappeared from the newspaper lexicon, continuing its existence mainly in the press of the diaspora, but it is being reborn in the new age and – for reasons incomprehensible to me, but most likely it has nothing to do with patriotism – among architects.
- In [year] architect Jānis Dripe writes:
.. the direction of thinking and perhaps also the burden of years, which in the late seventies no longer allowed one to perceive or assess the very latest currents of world architecture.
Doctor of Architecture Jānis Krastiņš in his 1996 article "In the Mirror of Changing Views" insists precisely that the word "ievērtēt" in the "formulation developed by specialists" is very important. In this:
Restoration is renewal, excluding hypothetical alteration and taking into account (ievērtējot) historical layers.
Mr Krastiņš explains right there how the word in this formulation should really be understood: "It means carefully analysing and evaluating everything that has arisen in different historical periods, and balancing what of everything found in one building is to be preserved, what is not, and what is to be restored or created anew." Mr Krastiņš seems to think that "ievērtēt", unlike "novērtēt", is a broader concept that characterises the ability of specialists to look at a complex phenomenon in a comprehensive and deep way. Perhaps, with the doctor's light touch, "ievērtēt" already seems established among architects; as a replica to what Jānis Krastiņš said sounds the claim included in the architects' internet magazine A4D:
Such an approach allows one to assess and exhibit the architectural and urban planning signs of the architectural thinking of various time layers of the Latvian Riflemen Square space.
But, say, on the website of the latest generation architectural office ARTEKS we can read:
We work, being aware that an architect is a professional for whom it is significant to consider both the client's instructions and the interests of society.
Since the ARTEKS professionals have placed this phrase under the heading "Philosophy", I will also take the liberty of referring to Socrates as a specialist in his field: ".. since they were excellent masters of their craft, each of them thought that he was very wise also in other, even the most important matters, and these delusions overshadowed their wisdom."
Language is the kind of thing that mistakenly leads every user of it to consider themselves an expert. The dramatically serious use of the word "ievērtēt" is indeed only found among "specialists", creating a justifiably comic impression. But I will no longer burden you with either the coefficient "that evaluates the stress accumulation caused by fatigue in the foundation soil material", or with the fact "how one evaluates the amount of bark for round timber, the volume of which is obtained without bark". I will simply finish with the words of internet rhymers: "Good evening, travelling friends. We are people who like all kinds of entertainment – both to check out art and architecture, and to eat well and squeeze in some wild entertainment somewhere."
Article first published in the July 2016 issue of the magazine "Rīgas Laiks"