(d) Misunderstandings.
Section 106. (I) Verbal
Misunderstandings.[1]
Here too it is not possible to draw an absolutely definite boundary
between acoustic illusions and misunderstandings. Verbally we
may say that the former occur when the mistake, at least in its
main characteristic, is due to the aural mechanism. The latter is
intended when there is a mistake in the comprehension of a word or
of a sentence. In this case the ear has acted efficiently, but the mind
did not know how to handle what had been heard and so supplements
it by something else in connection with matter more or less senseless.
Hence, misunderstandings are so frequent with foreign words.
Compare the singing of immigrant school children, "My can't three
teas of tea" for "My country 'tis of thee," or "Pas de lieu Rhone
que nous" with "Paddle your own canoe."[3]
The question of misunderstandings, their development and solution,
is of great importance legally, since not only witnesses but clerks
and secretaries are subject to them. If they are undiscovered they
lead to dangerous mistakes, and their discovery causes great trouble
in getting at the correct solution.[2]
The determination of texts
requires not only effort but also psychological knowledge and the
capacity of putting one's self in the place of him who has committed
the error. To question him may often be impossible because of the
distance, and may be useless because he no longer knows what he
said or wanted to say. When we consider what a tremendous amount
of work classical philologists, etc., have to put into the determination
of the proper form of some misspelled word, we can guess how needful
it is to have the textual form of a protocol absolutely correct. The
innocence or guilt of a human being may depend upon a misspelled
syllable. Now, to determine the proper and correct character of
the text is as a rule difficult, and in most cases impossible. Whether
a witness or the secretary has misunderstood, makes no difference
in the nature of the work. Its importance remains unaffected, but
in the latter case the examining justice, in so far as he correctly
remembers what he has heard, may avoid error. The mistakes of
the secretaries may in any event be reduced to a minimum if all
protocols are read immediately, and not by the secretary but by the
examining judge himself. If the writer reads them he makes the
same mistakes, and only a very intelligent witness will perceive
them and call attention to them. Unless it so happens the mistake
remains.
I cite a few of the errors that I have observed. From a protocol
with the suspect: "On the twelfth of the month I left Marie Tomizil"
(instead of, "my domicile"). Instead of "irrelevant,"—"her
elephant." Very often words are written in, which the dictator only
says by the way; e. g., "come in," "go on," "hurry up," "look
out," etc. If such words get into the text at all it is difficult to puzzle
out how they got in. How easily and frequently people misunderstand
is shown by the oath they take. Hardly a day passes on which
at least one witness does not say some absolute nonsense while
repeating it.
The discovery of such errors and the substitution of what is
correct brings us back to the old rule that the mere study of our own
cases can not teach us anything, since the field of view is too narrow,
the material too uniform, and the stimulation too light. Other
disciplines must be studied and examples from the daily life must
be sought. Goethe, in particular, can teach us here. In his little
monograph, "Hör-, Schreib-and Druckfehler," he first tells
that he had discovered the most curious mistakes in hearing when he
reread dictated letters, mistakes which would have caused great
difficulty if not immediately looked after. The only means for the
solution of these errors is, he says, "to read the matter aloud, get
thoroughly into its meaning and repeat the unintelligible word so
long that the right one occurs in the flow of speech. Nobody hears
all that he knows, nobody is conscious of all that he senses, is able
to imagine, or to think. Persons who have never been to school
tend to turn into German all Latin and Greek expressions. The
same thing happens just as much with words from foreign languages
whose pronunciation is unknown to the writer . . . and in dictation
it occurs that a hearer sets his inner inclination, passion, and need
in the place of the word he has heard, and substitutes for it the name
of some loved person, or some much desired good morsel." A better
device for the detection of errors than that suggested by Goethe
cannot be found, but the protocol or whatever else it may be must
be read; otherwise nothing helps. Many mistakes
are due, as
Münsterberg points out, to the fact that the word is seen for just
an instant, and it is easy to misread a word so seen if some similar
word had been heard or seen just before. The most senseless corruptions
of text occur often, and it seems extraordinary how they
may be overlooked. Andresen points out that the reason for all
popular explanations is the consciousness of language which struggles
against allowing any name to be an empty sound, and still more,
strives to give each term a separate meaning and an indubitable
intelligibility. The human mind acts here instinctively and naïvely
without any reflection, and is determined by feeling or accident.
Then it makes all kinds of transformations of foreign words.
This fits with the analogous observation that a group of Catholic
patron saints depend for their character on their names. Santa
Clara makes clear vision, St. Lucy sounds like lucida, and is the
saint of the blind; St. Mamertus is analogous to mamma, the
feminine breast, and is the patron saint of nurses and nursing women.
Instructive substitutions are Jack Spear, for Shakespeare, Apolda
for Apollo; Great victory at le Mans, for Great victory at Lehmanns;
"plaster depot," for "place de Repos."
Andresen warns us against going too far in analysis. Exaggerations
are easy, particularly when we want to get at the source of a
misunderstanding because of the illegibility of the style. Our task
consists, first of all, in getting at the correctness of what has been
said or written, otherwise we have nothing whatever to go by. Only
when that is quite impossible may we assume misunderstandings
and seek them out. The procedure then must be necessarily linguistic
and psychological and requires the consultation of experts in both
fields. Certain instructive misunderstandings of the most obvious
sort occur when the half-educated drop their dialect, or thoroughly
educated people alter the dialectical expressions and try to translate
them into high German.
It is frequently important to understand the curious transposition
in meaning which foreign words get, e. g., commode, fidel, and
famos. A commode gentleman means in German, a pliable person;
and a fidel lad is not a loyal soul, but a merry, pleasure-seeking
one; famos—originally "famous,"—means expensive or
pleasant.
It may be not unimportant to understand how names are altered.
Thus, I know a man who curiously enough was called Kammerdiener,
whose father was an immigrant Italian called Comadina, and I
know two old men, brothers, who lived in different parts of the
country, one of whom was called Joseph Waldhauser, the other Leopold
Balthasar. In the course of the generation the name had so completely
changed that it is impossible to say which is correct. Again,
a family bearing the name Theobald is of French origin and used
really to be called Du Val. In Steiermark, which had been over-run
with Turks two hundred years ago, there are many family names of
Turkish origin. Thus Hasenöhrl may come from Hassan Öri;
Salata from Saladin; Mullenbock, from Mullei Beg; Sullman from
Soliman.
[[ id="n106.1"]]
Many omissions have been necessitated by the fact that no English
equivalents
for the German examples could be found. [Translator.]
[[ id="n106.2"]]
Cf. S. Freud: Psychopathologie des Alltagsleben
[[ id="n106.3"]]
Cited by James, Psychology, Buefer Course.