The function and significance of code-switching in South African poetry

Abstract

This article is an extension of earlier work by the author which explored the function of code-switching in the canon of English poetry (2011. ‘The function and significance of bilingual code-switching in English poetry with a special focus on the work of Eliot and Pound’. The English Academy Review 28 (1): 23–38). Given the dearth of research in this field, especially within the South African literary context, the current article examines the use of code-switching in South African poetry, drawing on the theoretical framework and the findings of the previous study. It begins by examining the use and function of non-English titles in the work of Sepamla, Cronin and Gwala, where the matrix language of the poems is English. This is followed by a comparison of the use of code-switching in Selepe's poem ‘My name Nomgqibelo Ncamisile Mnqhibisa’ with Sepamla's poem ‘My name is’. After a short consideration of code-switching in songs, the study moves on to a brief consideration of the use of quotations from non-English literary works in South African English poetry. The study reveals numerous functions of code-switching as a rhetorical device: it can be used for dramatic, lyrical or humorous effect, to bring out irony, to express solidarity, to make social or political commentary, to add local colour and to change perspectives.

Keywords:

• bilingualism
• code-switching
• identity
• macaronic music
• Markedness Model
• matrix language
• naming
• onomastic erasure
• protest poetry

Acknowledgements

I wish to acknowledge the collegial support of Karen Batley, Adrian Koopman, Sam Lebese, David Levey, Christine Marshall, Koliswa Moropa, Suren Naicker, Nathi Ngcobo, Bulelwa Nokele, Nosibele Nomdebevana, Robert Rademeyer and Ncedile Saule who helped me to understand the true meaning of motho ke motho ka batho babang.

Notes

These mixed codes or fused lects lie along a fairly fluid language alternation continuum ranging from the least to the most stable variety. In South Africa this continuum ranges from the multiplicity of ephemeral slang varieties to more established mixed varieties, such as Iscamto, Tsotsitaal, and Alternative Afrikaans which have become recognised features of the local linguistic landscape (see Mesthrie 2002; Mfusi 1992; Slabbert 1994). In these varieties code-switching becomes clichéd; it is no longer creative and loses its salience. This situation is described in Auckle and Barnes (2011, 108–109):

According to Auer (1999), Matras (2000a and 200b) and Gafaranga (2007), frequent CS in multilingual communities leads to a loss in salience of CS as a contextualization cue, as speakers adopt a bilingual mode of speaking with its own nascent grammatical rules. The back and forth movement between languages becomes the norm, rather than the exception.

A special effect is created by the use of these particular varieties, but it is not possible to analyse it in the same way as one would analyse ‘classical’ code-switching, as there is a loss of salience in that the contrast between the matrix and the embedded language is no longer significant. This type of poetry has its own dynamics, warranting a study on its own, which is beyond the scope of this article.

It is easy to imagine a setting which blends the classical oratorio with more modern African musical modes. The first stanza (sung in English) could be in the form of a wistful recitative, possibly in a minor key with guitar accompaniment, followed by an orchestral interlude (including African instruments such as the marimba) in a jazzy African style, accompanied by dancing and choral singing. The main section of the poem would be in the form of two arias sung in Xhosa by a tenor or bass (with a possible modulation to a major key). Between the arias there would be a chorus sung in English.

Often, there is a story linked to the song, which the elders share with the youth, and invariably this results in a kind of cultural heritage forming around the song, with most members of the community being cognisant of its history.

Note that the title of Makeba's song is spelt differently. It is extremely challenging to present a translation that would render the true spirit of this song, as well as all the nuances of word play and alliteration. I offer the following:

Men (of the Majola clan) staring sternly

Children staring sternly, be strong!

This name is derived from Afrikaans, and literally means ‘small boy’.

The first four lines of Totius's Psalm 8 are given below: Daar is geen land so ver of woes geleë,

geen strand, o eer, of wilde waterweë

geen hemelsfeer in die oneindigheid –

of oral blink u Naam en majesteit.

There is no land so distant or desolate,

no strand, O Lord, or waterway

nowhere in the infinite firmament

where your Name and majesty are not magnified.