Try to read this:
cldn't blv tht cld ctll ndrstnd wht ws rdng. Th phnmnl pwr f th hmn mnd ccrdng t rsrch tm t Cmbrdg nvrst, t dsn't mttr n wht rdr th lttrs n wrd r, th nl mprtnt thng s tht th frst nd lst lttr b n th rght plc. Th rst cn b ttl mss nd y cn stll rd t wtht prblm. Ths s bcs th hmn mnd ds nt rd vr lttr b tslf, bt th wrd s whl. Sch cndtn s pprprtl clld Typglcm.
All vowels (including the letter Y when used as a vowel) have been eliminated. Do you have any idea what's being said? Some of the words, such as "ndrstnd" and "mprtnt", make sense if you're the kind of person who abbreviates when taking notes or making a shopping list, but the rest of it is blah blah blather.
Now try it this way:
I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to rscheearch taem at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the f!rist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses an you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Such a cdonition is arppoiately cllaed Typoglycemia.
The difference is that the second paragraph includes all the required letters in the wrong order; your brain rearranges the letters to form real words and make sense.
Why am I bothering telling you this? Because the difference between the two above paragraphs illustrates the challenge Robespierre had to face in preparing for his Bar Mitzvah.
The highlight of a Bar Mitzvah comes when the boy reads from the Torah. The Torah is formidable -- it's hand written in Hebrew by trained scribes who use a feather quill, special ink and specially prepared parchment. Anything resembling a vowel is eliminated in the inking of the Torah, so the reader has to guess at pronunciation based on the context of the narrative.
Why produce a document containing nearly 80,000 words and a total of 304,805 letters (how many more would it be with the vowels thrown in?) without providing any vowels to help you along the way? I don't know -- maybe G-d really wanted to make sure the Jews were truly committed to being Jewish before laying on them all the benefits (matzah balls) and drawbacks (plain matzah - blech) that come with being a Jew. Maybe G-d didn't want the Hebrew scribes to suffer from carpal tunnel or writer's (scribe's?) cramp.
I wish I could say I'd figured out this next part myself; let's just say I'm proud I remembered reading about it somewhere so I could dig it up and quote it here:
Alphabets with vowels tend to be written from left to right. Those, like biblical Hebrew, that contain only consonants but not vowels, tend to be written from right to left.
The left brain is analytical, detached, linear and logical. It splits things into their components. The right brain is holistic, integrative, even intuitive. It is good at recognising patterns and handling personal relationships, including nonverbal expressions. It plays a big part in emotional intelligence.
The left hemisphere controls the right side of the body, and vice versa. When we move our head to the right, we are using the left hemisphere. When we move it to the left, we are bringing the right hemisphere into play.
When we read something written in an alphabet, like English, that contains vowels, each word is more or less intelligible on its own. So we can use the linear, sequential left brain, which controls rightward movement, which is why English is written from left to right.
Not so when we read a text written in an alphabet without vowels. Imagine English without vowels. The letters ht, for example, might mean any of hot, hat, hit, hut, heat or hate. How do you tell which? Only by understanding the context, and perhaps even how the sentence ends. For that you need to use the integrative and holistic right brain, which controls leftward motion. That is why vowel-less alphabets tend to be written from right to left.
So the reading of Hebrew is more arduous than just studying letters and learning how to pronounce the words they form, since in Hebrew the vowels on which we English readers depend to give words much of their kick and personality, are left up to the reader's best guess. This challenge is even more pronounced if the reader is a left brain kind of guy who's unaccustomed to reading between the lines to pin down the meaning of a story (Robey, put your hand down).
Many people who prepare for a Bar Mitzvah learn a Torah portion, rattle it off from memory, thank their parents and then head off to the bank to deposit checks.
Now Robespierre, whatever he may be, is not what I'd call inherently intuitive. He's a concrete thinker: a math guy. If you ask him about a story he's read he'll regale you with all sorts of details about what happens and then what happens and what happens next, and very likely will never get to the end. If you ask him to discuss the theme or interpret the meaning he'll change the subject. Reading Hebrew, a right to left language that requires a lot of creative speculation, would not seem to come naturally to him.
But he did it, and not only did he do it but he absolutely blew it away. He chanted his Torah portion and all the related Hebrew prayers and readings confidently and fluently, speaking out boldly and bravely with no hesitation.
Is it because he's so brilliant that he pulled it off splendidly, without a hitch? Is it because young people's flexible brains are better able to pick up unfamiliar concepts than a brain like mine, for instance? Is it because he has a hidden and previously untapped resource of right braininess?
Who knows? I'm not even sure I want to know. I do know that Robey has an awful lot to be proud of.
Cupcake's next.
