French pronunciation works by geological principles: over the years, what looks like an intricate arrangement of vowels and consonants gets eroded and folded down to what’s essentially a nuanced grunt.
Where is this and how would you pronounce the “g”?
Also, you made me think about a story about a shop in a southern Norwegian city, where the owner put up a sign around lunch time: “e æ a å eder” (I am off to eat), the shop owner across the street saw it and made his own sign saying “e æ a e å” (I am off as well (lit. I am off I also))
French pronunciation works by geological principles: over the years, what looks like an intricate arrangement of vowels and consonants gets eroded and folded down to what’s essentially a nuanced grunt.
I think you actually just described Danish.
Why pronounce a consonant when you just can swallow it and use a glottal stop instead?
“A g å a ø i a å” is a proper sentence where I come from.
It means: A goat on an island in a river.
Where is this and how would you pronounce the “g”?
Also, you made me think about a story about a shop in a southern Norwegian city, where the owner put up a sign around lunch time: “e æ a å eder” (I am off to eat), the shop owner across the street saw it and made his own sign saying “e æ a e å” (I am off as well (lit. I am off I also))
It’s North Jutland. The g is pronounced as “ge” almost like German “geh”.
I’m not native, and even after 15 years I sometimes still don’t understand the local dialect.
The Norwegian Kamelåså joke about Danish is funny because its true.
Sounds like Australian. Or strayn, as I would say to a fellow denizen of this beloved wonderhell.
That’s just called language