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The Online Playground

The (socio-)linguistic experiments of Padonki as a tool for virtual identities

Trudie Stoppelenburg 5967325

05-06-2017

Prof. Dr. E. Rutten Dr. E.R.G. Metz

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Table of contents

Table of contents

1. Introduction 3

1.1 Exposition of the master’s thesis project 3

1.2 Goal of this thesis 7

1.3 Organization of this thesis 8

2. Historical framework 10

3. Linguistic Analysis 17

4. Sociolinguistic Analysis 26

4.1 Heteroglossia and intertextuality on Udaff.com 30

4.2 ‘Othering’ 32 4.3 Non-verbal signage 37 4.4 Slang or not? 38 5. Conclusion 40 5.1 Conclusion 40 5.2 Further research 42 6. References 44 Empirical Corpus 51

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1. Introduction

1.1 Exposition of the master’s thesis project

Ever since the Internet became available for private use in 1993, it gave rise to the phenomenon of the so-called ‘digital networked writing’ (Androutsopoulos, 2011). This term implies the use of vernacular language as a non-confirmative ‘tool’ for online written communication. The World Wide Web has been regarded as the perfect platform for different kinds of (socio) linguistic experiments, since the emergence of new technological properties (i.e., mail, weblogs, chat) provided users with new areas of expression. It is within these areas that users had to adapt their (off-line) language to meet the demands of the new environment (see: Crystal, 2006; Androutsopoulos, 2011). Users started developing a broad variety of more pragmatic lexicons and orthographies, which were suitable for online synchronous and asynchronous messages, a phenomenon David Crystal refers to as ‘linguistic variety’ (Crystal, 2006: 6). Quite soon these new communicative options were personalized and creativity became an important trademark, since Internet users were ‘continually searching for vocabulary to describe their experiences, to capture the character of the electronic world, and to overcome the communicative limitations of its technology’ (Crystal, 2006: 67). The Internet in a way thus became a virtual space for public self-expression through the usage of this new form of creative language.

In Post-Soviet Russia this newly gained virtual linguistic freedom came to expression through the language play of a group of Runet (the Russian speaking part of the Internet) users. They went by the name Padonki1, which is an intentional misspelling of podonok. Literally this word means jerk, riffraff, scum. The Padonki group is most known for their use of the so-called iazyk Padonkaf/Olbanian2. an experimental language that carries out the idea of ‘total (linguistic) freedom’ (see: Zvereva, 2009; Gusejnov, 2009). The iazyk Padonkaf is based on divergent (counterphonetic) spelling mixed with literary expressions and the use of creative idioms:

1 Throughout this thesis I will use Padonki (with capital ‘P’) in reference to the group of writers who use the

padonkaffsky yazik, will using padonki (small ‘p’) to refer to the language itself.

2

Several translations and/or transliterations are being used, but throughout my thesis I will follow Vera Zvereva and refer to the language of Padonki as iazyk Padonkaf.

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Среди характерных особенностей «падонкафского» - намеренное искажение орфографии [...], игры со словами и нарочито сниженным стилем, декларативная отмена грамотности как репрессивной нормы.3 (Vera Zvereva, 2009: 49).

A distinctive feature of this experimental language is the orthographic spelling; words are written in a way closer related to their pronunciation (e.g. afftor instead of avtor; since as a grammatical pronunciation rule voiced consonants (in this case the [v]) become voiceless ([f]) when they are followed by other voiceless consonants ). Users of the iazyk Padonkaf also have a clear preference for the use of improper (i.e., shocking, vulgar and/or political incorrect) words and phrases, such as фтопку (в топку), ‘in the oven’ which refers to the anti-Semitic context of WW II.

Ever since their first appearances in the latter half of the 90s, Padonki has been regarded as a politically charged counterculture, mainly because of their uncensored and explicit language use. The non-conformative way of spelling in their kreativy (the weblogs they write in the iazyk Padonkaf) seemed to be an implicit charge against the ongoing desire to standardize the Russian language and – to a lesser extent – culture:

«Язык падонкаф» использовался не только для творчества и общения, но и для самоопределения (пусть и игрового) участников сообщества по отношению к лингвистической норме и ‘правильной’ культуре.4 (Zvereva, 2009: 53)

By using phrases such as the above mentioned фтопку users of padonki seemed to exclude people they considered to be ‘others’: Jews, women (although the group of Padonki wasn’t explicitly male5), gays etcetera.

Within their own group Padonki also canonized the iazyk Padonkaf – in order to establish their own specific identity – by emphasizing wrong usage of their linguistic ‘rules’ within the kreativy. The first padonki-oriented websites (Udaff.com, founded in 2001 and Fuck.ru) saw the emergence of the internet meme ‘Учи олбанский!’ (Learn Olbanian!; a misspelling of Albanian) in order to correct anyone who used ‘incorrect’ grammar (according to the spelling rules of Padonki) or made a comment that didn’t make sense. Soon after

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Amongst the characteristic features of the «Padonkaffsky» we see a deliberate distortion of spelling […], word games, a deliberately reduced style and a declarative abolition of literacy as a repressive norm. (translation T.S).

4 «Padonkaffsky yazik» is not only used as an art form and for messaging, but also for self-proliferation

(whether this is playful or not) of the members of the group in contrast with the linguistic norm and ‘correct’ culture. (translation T.S).

5 Olga Goriunova wrote an article about the characteristics of Udaff.com, stating that the users are ‘extremely

heterogeneous and form contrasting social, age and professional strata whose views strongly differ’ (Goriunova, 2006: 187).

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launching these websites, the padonki language seemed to become a part of mainstream culture when the Internet meme Preved, Medved6 found its way into the Russian society. Besides that, on LiveJournal.com (a social network where users can keep a blog, journal or diary) the use of the iazyk Padonkaf grew immensely. A 2006 online conference with Vladimir Putin marked a peak in padonki’s popularity when a user of Yandex (the Russian variant of Google) asked Putin “ПРЕВЕД, Владимир Владимирович! Как вы относитесь к МЕДВЕДУ?”7

(where Medved could either refer to Dmitrij Medvedev or to the above mentioned Internet meme; this double meaning was intentionally).

Although the above written experiments of Padonki have been the subject of a bulk of articles and papers, no thorough analysis has been made of the socio-linguistic mechanisms that Padonki use and why they use it. In this study, I do propose a synthetic (socio-)linguistic analysis of padonki slang – and on the pages that follow, I explain why such an analysis is needed and on which existing studies I build in crafting one.

Cultural historian Vera Zvereva and linguist/Classicist Gasan Gusejnov did make some first attempts at such an analysis, in order to get a clearer view of the jargon of padonki and the ideology behind it. In his article ‘Berloga, Vebloga. Vvedenie v ėrraticheskuiu semantiku’ (2005), Gusejnov gives a first insight into the language of Padonki by analyzing their word choice in the context of so-called erratives, or deliberate violations of standard spelling rules. Gusejnov states that the development of the iazyk Padonkaf is a logical consequence of the rising popularity of the Internet as a new medium, since every new medium (in this case more specific: the weblog) requires its own literary genre. Within this online creative platform these erratives are canonized (i.e., they follow certain ‘rules’) and they imply a proficient knowledge of the normative Russian language.

From a more or less sociolinguistic perspective, Gusejnov states that padonki users see themselves not simply as users of a certain type of slang but as representatives of a counterculture genre, which needs to be kept ‘clean’. In this notion Gusejnov sees a parallel

6 a meme in the Russian-speaking Internet which developed out of a heavily-circulated picture, and consists of

choosing alternative spellings for words for comic effect. The picture, a modified version of John Lurie's watercolor Bear Surprise, whose popularity was stoked by emails and blogs, features a man and a woman having sex in the clearing of a forest, being surprised by a bear calling "Surprise!" with its paws raised. In later Russian adaptations, the bear shouts "Preved!" (a deliberate misspelling of privet, приве́ т – "hi!"). In keeping with a popular trend of image manipulation, the iconic bear (dubbed Medved - a misspelling

of медведь, bear) has been inserted into many other pictures where his appearance adds a new dimension to the joke. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Preved).

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with several other Russian literary underground movements, like the Literatura Fakta8 who used the same - though offline - platforms to spread their ideologies. Gusejnov is the first to give a small overview in his article of the above mentioned erratives: a preference by Padonki for phonetic spelling, the use of ‘uncommon’ words in ‘uncommon’ contexts, abbreviations and loanwords.

This first analysis is put into a more structured conspectus by Gusejnov in his article ‘Instrumenty opisaniia nepolnoĭ kommunikatsii v blogosfere’ (2009). Here Gusejnov divides the erratives of padonki into three different categories: erratives that are related to breaking spelling rules, erratives that are put into use to play with “political correctness” (i.e., the use of anti-Semitic words in comments on weblogs) and erratives which are to be found in the semantic sphere of internet memes (i.e., common exclamations like ‘life is hard’ get a different connotation when used in a new context). Besides that, he puts emphasis on another communicative tool of padonki: the use of liturativy (the principle of strikethrough). These lituratives have common ground with erratives since they both are based on a pragmatic principle of language use: when making a remark that could be interpreted as improper, a Padonki writer can use the mechanism of strikethrough to put more emphasis on it (i.e., he/she plays with the explicit nature of the remark):

мне вот интересно, куда деваются потом дети, которых все детство долго пиздили с которыми занимались репетиторы, которые учились в престижных школах, ходили на музыку и пахали, пахали, пахали как проклятые все детство?9

(Gusejnov, 2009).

By the use of liturative the writer here not only foregrounds the use of the invective pizidili, but also gives his blunt opinion about these kids.

Gusejnov’s analysis is helpful – but it is small-scaled (in the first mentioned article he analyzed just six LiveJournal-users) and it doesn’t fully answer the question why Padonki use these specific types of words. Where does Padonki’s fascination for – for example – the anti-Semitic context come from? Besides that, he doesn’t give any satisfactory explanations about the social/ideological implications of this non-normative language use.

8 A group of left-winged writers that came together during the 1920s and propagandized ‘factographic’ works.

In order to create this type of literature, they favored the use of new technologies by the working class. For more about this avant-garde movement, see: http://www.e-reading.link/book.php?book=1022008.

9 ‘What interests me, is what will happen to those kids who fucked up their whole youth, who were educated by

tutors, went to prestigious schools, received musical education and worked like dogs their whole youth.’ (translation T.S.)

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Vera Zvereva analyses the rising popularity (and its decline) of Padonki from a more cultural historical perspective. In ‘Diskussii pol’zovatelej Runeta’ (2009) she provides us with a brief overview of the development of the Padonki group. Zvereva makes an interesting parallel between the online rise of Padonki and the offline Russian culture of the 90s. Within both spheres the keyword seems to be ‘freedom’. The use of playful and uncensored language is a reaction against the ‘official’ culture and a parody of the power discourse. Zvereva also states that the emergence of Padonki cannot be traced back to one ‘source’ (i.e., a founding father or a specific moment in time) (see: Zvereva, 2009). This means that the iazyk Padonkaf should be looked at from two different perspectives: as a logical consequence of new technologies and as a reaction against cultural developments. Though Zvereva’s statements are fruitful tools for understanding the new jargon, they are mainly derived from a metalinguistic corpus and not from kreativy-like blogs (where utterances to a much lesser extent contain metalinguistic statements). Lesser attention is drawn here to the specific linguistic tools of the Padonki.

1.2. Goal of this thesis

In this thesis I will take a closer look at the phenomenon of Padonki. The goal here will be twofold. First of all, I would like to gain an even more thorough insight into the padonki language. What kinds of so-called erratives are most commonly used? What type of words etcetera? My second goal is to explain how and why this playful language is used to create a specific sociological and/or ideological role. Why do the users of Padonki want to exclude ‘others’ (i.e., Jewish people, women, gays)? As the above mentioned researchers have shown, there is a linguistic as well as a cultural component involved when analyzing Padonki. The problem is, however, that no research has been done that combined these two different viewpoints. Therefore I will suggest a more sociolinguistic approach when analyzing the playful experiments of this counterculture. With this approach I can analyze their linguistic experiments as well as the social implications of this language; in my opinion this will provide us with a more complete picture of the counterculture of Padonki and its influence. Besides that, with this approach I can focus more on the politically charged role they have (or had) in society.

Alongside the two above-mentioned goals, I would like to overcome a more ‘practical’ problem with my thesis. Since both Gusejnov and Zvereva have written their articles in Russian, for non-Russian speaking researchers this impedes the possibility to get acquainted with the ideas of Padonki. On the other hand, experts who have written about

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online language in English seem to have a preference for – as professor of literature Ellen Rutten states – ‘English-speaking sources without specifying that linguistic demarcation’ (Rutten, 2014). Therefore, my thesis can/must be seen as an attempt to broaden or combine previous research regarding online language and society, using a non-Western language as research subject while writing in English.

1.3 Organization of this thesis

The first chapter of this thesis starts with an historical overview that shows in what way Russian earlier (underground) historical literary movements more or less have paved the way for the linguistic experiments of Padonki. This overview will show the ongoing ‘rivalry’ between prescriptive norms, which are (mainly) implemented by the state, and living norms, which are, whether consciously or not, used as a counter reaction against the states rigid ideas. As we will see, throughout the last few decades – starting with the cultural reforms of Peter the Great in the eighteenth century – an almost constant clash between standard and non-standard language lay the foundations for the rise of a bulk of linguistic experiments of which Padonki is one of the most recent manifestations.

The second chapter has its main focus on the linguistic features of the iazyk Padonkaf. I will use the above mentioned division and terminology of Gusejnov as a starting point from where I will give a clear view of the language play of Padonki, as used on their website Udaff.com. For this analysis I will us a total of twelve kreativy that are depicted from the website, and randomly selected between 2001 and 2006 in order to get a diachronic picture of the website. In this chapter I will show the different type of orthographical deviations that users of the iazyk Padonkaf favored. I will use the selected kreativy to make a more structured overview of the linguistic principles. Besides that the question whether or not the padonkaffsky language seemed to follow certain regularities will be answered, i.e. if there is some kind of ‘grammar’ that padonki users follow. Besides that, I will take a closer look at the implication stated by sociolinguists Vera Zvereva and Aleksandrs Berdicevskis (2014) that the language of Padonki can be interpreted as a specific type of online slang.

With the conclusions drawn from my linguistic analysis I will put the iazyk Padonkaf in a broader sociolinguistic perspective in the third chapter. I would like to show what kind of role this counterculture group had in society. In order to answer this question, I will use two different concepts regarding the specified field of new media sociolinguistics (see: Thurlow, C. and Mroczek K., 2011). The first idea (or concept) is posited by Jannis Androutsopoulos, a

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Greek researcher in media linguistics, and is based on the concept of heteroglossia. With an heteroglossic approach towards webpages it is possible to focus more on the layered composition (i.e., textual and non-verbal elements) of a website. The second theory I will use for my sociolinguistic analysis is based on intertextuality (/hypertextuality). The combination of these concepts makes it possible to see webpages as a discursive domain. I will look at the different mechanisms Padonki uses to profile themselves within this discursive domain of Udaff.com, in specific the above mentioned idea of ‘othering’ and the concept of intra-national translation as a means of identity building by converting the – in this case - standard Russian language. I will conclude my thesis with the final conclusions of my linguistic and sociolinguistic analysis and I will give some recommendations for further research.

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2. Historical Framework

Before analyzing the linguistic and sociolinguistic implications of the padonki language, it is helpful to embed their upswing in a broader, historical framework. Since language is a dynamic system, that constantly changes and interacts with all aspects of life, this overview gives the necessary knowledge for analyzing the padonki slang as a manifestation of the changing character of the Russian language.

Ever since the desire of Peter the Great to modernize the Russian culture at the beginning of the eighteenth century there has been an ongoing sociolinguistic conflict between what Henning Andersen in his article ‘Living Norms’ (2009) calls prescriptive and living norms. The first term refers to deontic categories that identify ‘preferred and dispreferred variants [of a language, ed.]’ (Andersen, 2009: 24). The latter notion refers to spoken or written forms of language that are considered non-confirmative (i.e., language variations that are not included in grammars and dictionaries). The sovremennyj russkij literaturnyj jazyk that is in use nowadays is the result of a century-long debate. This evolved around two opposing viewpoints, namely the rigid ideas about language that are (mainly) implemented by the state and the counter reactions that were used to oppose to this linguistic normalization process.

When Peter the Great came to power in 1682 ‘the Russian language, both spoken and written, was porous, receptive, shapeless, and lacked fixed norms for orthography or pronunciation. Polonisms, Latinisms, and Germanisms abounded’ (Emerson, 2008: 81). This is underlined by professors in literature Arthur Langeveld and Willem Weststeijn, who even state that at the time there was no such thing as written Russian (Langeveld & Weststeijn, 2005: 12). They describe the linguistic status quo at the end of the seventeenth century as a ‘diaglossic situation’ (Langeveld & Weststeijn, 2005: 12) in which a mixture of written Old Church Slavonic and spoken dialects were employed. The first attempts to implement a standardized written and spoken language were thus based on a ‘chaotic but familiar “Old Slavonic mass”: cleansing it, simplifying it, and defining high, middle and low styles according to the proportion of archaic words that each layer contained’ (Emerson, 2008: 81). The corps of regulators and translators that worked for Peter the Great was ordered to write dictionaries, glossaries and lexical commentaries in order to ‘instruct’ the mass about the proper usage of this reformed and westernized language. However, since Russian lacked equivalents for many Western abstract and technical concepts, the strategy of pletenie sloves

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(‘word-weaving’; Emerson, 2008: 81) was adopted. This ‘weaving’ of words implied a ‘dense fabric of ornamental epithets, alliterations, and assonances’ (Emerson, 2008: 81). As a consequence of this ‘unmonitored polyglot sea’ (Emerson, 2008: 82), the Russian upper class devoted itself to adopting the French language as the proper lingua franca for society interactions. They did so by hiring multiple nannies and tutors who introduced them (i.e., their children) to the French language. The lower class, on the other hand, which had the financial and social ability to hire ‘only one miserable, underpaid, often ignorant immigrant’ (Emerson, 2008: 82), got acquainted with a poor variant of spoken French, which consequently lead to a poor mixture of French and Russian.

A more radical attempt to standardize the language and to unify the above mentioned polyglot mess was initiated by Mikhail Lomonosov in 1757. His starting point was the idea that spoken Russian and Old Church Slavonic can be combined into an ecclesiastical language in order to make intellectual life accessible to literate Russians. This combination of the two languages can be divided into three styles, which corresponds with the user’s (mainly writers’) goals:

the first, “high” style to be used for tragedies, odes and elegies, should include more Slavonicsisms; the second, “middle” style, consisting of an equal mix of Russian and Slavonic, should be used for drama, correspondence, and satire; and the third, “low” style includes mostly Russian words and exists for comedies, epigrams and everyday speech.10

As we will see, Lomonosov’s division has been proven to be extremely influential in the development of the Russian literary language. However, at the end of the eighteenth century the writer Nikolaj Karamzin created a schism between conservative and progressive intellectuals, by rejecting the trichotomy of Lomonosov (see: Langeveld & Weststeijn, 2005: 14). His idea was to substitute this division by one general, civilized literary language which consisted of several stylistic variants for one concept. Karamzin implemented his own ideas by introducing French loan translations and simplifying the Russian syntax (based on French standards).

The first third of the nineteenth century is characterized by an enormous development of the literary language, with Pushkin as the major revolutionary. As Langeveld and Weststeijn describe, Pushkin put an end to the endless discussions that evolved around the

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above mentioned reformations by Karamzin (Langeveld & Weststeijn, 2005: 15). By rejecting the archaic grammar and vocabulary of Lomonosov’s ‘high style’ in his own literary work, Pushkin paved the way for a more modern variant of grammar and vocabulary that matched the spoken language of that time. Besides his efforts to fill in the gap between the spoken language of his time and the outdated variants Lomonosov proposed Pushkin can also be held responsible for substantially augmenting the Russian lexicon by devising calques. His achievements are ought to be seen though with the rigid ideas of tsar Nicolas I (1825-1855) on the background. After the failed riot of the Decembrists in 1825, Nicolas was convinced of the idea of reigning with an iron hand (see: Emmanuel Waegemans, 2009). His repressive thoughts came to expression through the use of strict censorship, which consequently led to writers using the mechanism of meždustročnost (reading and writing in between the lines). This tool has been proven to be effective until 1991, when the Soviet Union fell apart, but as we will see in the upcoming chapters some sort of ‘writing in between the lines’ is traceable within the works of Padonki writers as well. Besides this censorship, Nicolas I implemented a style of writing that supported his ideas of orthodoxy, autocracy and patriotism. In order to control writers he implemented a Tret’e Otdelenie (Third Section) to keep a strict eye on the abidance of his ideas. Paradoxically, this period in the Russian literature became well known as the zolotoj vek (golden century) with writers like Pushkin, Lermontov and Gogol as founders of the classical Russian literature.

During his own lifetime however, Pushkin was not unanimously taken seriously. If known today primarily as the greatest Russian poet at home and abroad, Pushkin’s contemporaries repeatedly accused him of being too Romantic (i.e., not modern enough) and not Russian enough (see: Emmanuel Waegemans, 2009). One of the main reasons for this hatred was Pushkin’s political point of view, stating that ‘a political system that relied on repression could not count on a secure future’ (Ascher, 2002: 103). It wasn’t until the end of the nineteenth century that Pushkin’s influence on the Russian language and literature was widely acknowledged, and eventually ‘Pushkin the poet, prose writer, and dramatist became for Russia what Shakespeare is for the English-speaking world, an unsurpassed standard’ (Emerson, 2008: 97). As we will see, even the rebellious writers of Padonki used Pushkin as an literary example, by referring in their manifest to his famous ‘без грамматической ошибки я русской речи не люблю’ quote.11

11

‘without grammatical mistakes, I do not love the Russian language’. http://stcreserv.narod.ru/Raznoe/AS_bez_oshibki.html.

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The end of the nineteenth century is known for several (minor) attempts to reform the orthography of the Cyrillic alphabet in 1862. The Russian linguist Shakhmatov saw this reform as a ‘continuation of the Cyrillo-Methodian tradition, given that the initial impulse to create a Slavic writing system was to render speech faithfully in writing as part of a living tradition.’12

The biggest impulse however for the transformation towards a more modern spelling form, was implemented in 1917 by the before mentioned Shakmatov. His orthographic reform succeeded the Bolshevik revolution of 1917 (with all its consequences for Russian society at large). Ingunn Lunde and Tine Roesen have mapped the linguistic implications of this major social transition. They delineate this period as characterized by

linguistic liberalization, instability and change, which included not only semantic shifts, the obsolescence of concepts and words from the “old social structure” and the activization of native word formational processes, but also radical transgressions across different spheres of language usage. As a result, the “language question”— the negotiation and articulation of a new linguistic norm — permeated all spheres of social, cultural and political life. (I. Lunde & T. Roesen, 2006: 7).

On a concrete level, this first of all meant a reform of the spelling, which was carried out in 1918 by the ‘People’s Commissariat for Education of December 23, 1917 and took effect with a decree of the Council of People’s Commissars of October 10, 1918’13. This orthographic reform was intended to increase the level of literacy among Russian speakers, both native speakers and second-language speakers, in order to carry out the socialist ideology within a ‘population that was highly stratified with a relatively small literate elite and a vast underclass of peasants and workers with little to no literacy’14

. The Bolsheviks saw the written and spoken language as essential tools in forming a national and collective identity, based on the principles of the Marxist ideology. In order to implement their ideas, the Bolsheviks came up with their ‘likbez’-campaign (Russian: ликбез; abbreviation for ликвида́ция безгра́мотности [likvidatsiia bezgramotnosti] or ‘elimination of illiteracy’). With the implementation of this rigorous plan in the Soviet Union all people from 8 to 50 years old were required to become literate in their native language. Reading rooms across the country where mandatory courses would be given, would not only prove themselves to be useful tools for the improvement of the for the propagandizing of the Bolshevik’s ideology.

12 http://russiasgreatwar.org/media/culture/orthography.shtml. 13

http://russiasgreatwar.org/media/culture/orthography.shtml.

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One major linguistic issue that had to be tackled was the fact that the Soviet Union held place to more than 130 different languages, amongst which there were languages (e.g. Ukrainian) that differed linguistically from the literary Russian language that was common these days. In order to accomplish a rapid facilitation of the socialist ideology the Russian orthography was simplified by the elimination of four archaic letters (ѣ, і, ѵ, and ѳ) and the ъ (the yer, or hard sign) at the end of a word15. This simplified alphabet drew, in the words of Ingunn Lunde and Martin Paulsen, a ‘visible typhographic line between the old and the new orders’ (Lunde & Paulsen, 2009: 7). Besides that, it was the time of a bulk of linguistic experiments, which implied a shift in linguistic norms. One of the more better known examples of these linguistic innovations is the invention of zaum by the poets Viktor Khlebnikov and Aleksei Kruchenykh. The main characteristics of zaum are sound symbolism and language creation; it was a ‘transrational language’ that goes beyond the meaning of common everyday language16. This so-called avant-gardist period in literature (and language) can be best described by what Roman Jakobson characterizes as a ‘landslide of the norm’.

With Stalin’s rise of power the above described linguistic experiments came to an end. The implementation of the kul’tura rechi, - i.e. the forced emphasis on the Russian language as the lingua franca in the Soviet Union - meant a strict prescriptive movement in order to promote the new norms of the standard Russian literary language. The grammars and dictionaries that were written in this period were used to consolidate the new standard language, which meant the usage of Russian as the common spoken and written language and the convert of the Latin alphabet into Cyrillic (see: Barbara Anderson and Brian Silver, 1984). The establishment of the Soviet Union of Writers in 1932 implied the state control in the field of literature. The membership of the Union became obligatory for professional writers, and writers who didn’t acknowledge the Union were faced with enormous difficulties for publication. As a result, samizdat and tamizdat (respectively private publication and publication abroad) were newly developed mechanisms used by writers to get their work published.

After Stalin’s death, in Lunde’s words, ‘the post-Stalin period was characterized by an absence of linguistic debates, and the language of the public sphere was ‘hyper-normalized’’ (Lunde & Paulsen, 2009: 8). On the other hand though, this period saw an enormous rise in linguistic experiments within underground literary movements. One example of this playful use of language is the use of стёб [stëb] in the 70s and 80s, with Daniil Kharms as one of the

15

http://www.indiana.edu/~libslav/slavcatman/RussianSpellingCheatsheet.html.

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‘founding fathers’ of this ironical and sarcastic style. The main idea behind stëb is that it implies a ‘parody of elements of socialist culture’ (Beumers, 2005: 245), with which the authentic ‘Soviet hero’ (Beumers, 2005: 246) could be mocked.

After the collapse of the Soviet State the language of the public sphere liberalized (see: Ryazanova-Clarke, 2002). Through the use of (new developments) in mass media, the population gained access to ‘public speaking’ (Ryazanova-Clarke, 2002: 133). The culmination of this process of liberalization was the abolition of censorship and self-censorship. As Ryazanova-Clarke states, this newly gained linguistic freedom had a ‘negative effect as well as a positive one’ (2002: 135). On the one hand, the liberalization meant an enrichment of the Russian language through the use of the ‘human factor’ (Ryazanova-Clarke, 2002: 133). In contrast with the rigid Soviet discourse (which implies there was only one valid discourse), a plurality of discourses came into being which were characterized by personal values. On a concrete level this meant - amongst other innovations - that television presenters and personalities gave their personal opinions in interviews and used signature language, with the result of being marked as ‘language trend leaders’ (Ryazanova-Clarke, 2002:133). The post-Soviet period also gives rise to linguistic experiments such as the use of irony and word play (e.g. ‘parody of official phraseology, slogans, citations from the speeches of communist leaders or from the well-known books and articles authored by them’ (Ryazanova-Clarke, 2002: 134) and the recurrence of the before mentioned stëb as a popular stylistic tool.

On the other hand, a malaise of the Russian language has been noticed, since the excessive use of stylistic inappropriate language, vulgarizations and the introduction of English loanwords resulted in a poor standard of speech (especially in high-ranking organizations such as the Duma). Consequently several open debates were initiated on the present state of the Russian language. The question was raised whether the language should be protected or not.

As a result, in 1997 a federal programme was set up under the name of ‘The Russian Language’. As part of the implementation of this programme, in January 2000 the Council for the Russian Language was established under the Russian Federation government. (Ryazanova-Clarke, 2010: 135).

One of the outcomes of this programme was the 2002 law demanding ‘all official languages within the Russian Federation to use the Cyrillic alphabet’ (Sebba, 2006: 100). The

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implementation of this decree caused a lot of controversy, not in the least because of its ideological implications. As Sebba states, ‘debates on orthography become symbolic battles over aspects of national, regional or ethnic identity’. In this case the use of one specific writing system (Cyrillic) would – according to the Russian government – inevitably lead to a more unified country. Besides that, there is the close linkage between language and religion that Sebba emphasizes: ‘the association between the Orthodox religion and Cyrillic was very powerful’ (2006: 109), and - consequently - has a connection to nationhood. The idea that a unified alphabet would lead to a stronger (international) identity was soon questioned by a minority of intellectuals. One of their main objections was that Cyrillic has many deficiencies and will not be able to meet requirements of new technologies and other global developments. They stated that the Latin alphabet is much more convenient and ‘[i]f Russia wants to keep pace with the progressive world and become part of Europe, it must completely go over to the Latin alphabet’ (Sebba, 2006: 112). Even nowadays, the question whether or not a government has the right to regulate a national language is a burning one in Russia. The latest ‘outburst’ of national legislation is a 2014 law banning ‘profanity from theater, movies, public performances, music and books’17

.

The underlying idea that is visible within all the above mentioned moots is that ‘where there is unease within a society about aspects of social change, rather than debate these directly, people may use language as a scapegoat — or rather, as a symbolic battlefield’ (Sebba, 2006: 115). It is within a similar sphere of so-called ‘unease’ that the linguistic experiments of Padonki came into being. Their language can be seen as one of the most recent manifestations of the (attempted) liberalization of the Russian language.

17

http://globalvoicesonline.org/2014/09/22/how-russias-anti-profanity-law-is-affecting-independent-filmmakers/.

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3. Linguistic Analysis

As seen in the historical framework, the padonkaffsky iazyk is pre-eminently considered a Russian occurrence. The language can be placed in a long historical line of literary (underground) movements that came into being during major social and/or cultural developments. In order to get a more clear view of the specific features of padonki I will firstly elaborate more in detail on the language itself. My main focus in this chapter is on the linguistic mechanisms that have been used within the kreativy, which can more or less be seen as the ‘building blocks’ of padonki. Combined with the conclusions from the upcoming sociolinguistic chapter this will give me a more thorough insight on the playful mechanisms of padonki. The current chapter will show the padonkaffsky ‘grammar’, insofar as we can speak of a grammar in the strict sense of the word.

My analysis is partly in line with previous research that has been done by the Russian linguist Gasan Gusejnov. In his 2005 article ‘Berloga, Vebloga. Vvedenie v ėrraticheskuiu semantiku’, Gusejnov provides his readers with an overview of the most common padonkaffsky words and expressions based on a small scaled research study of LiveJournal (Живой Журнал; abbreviation ЖЖ) (for the complete list, see: Gusejnov, 2005). Analyzing this online language, he concludes that the increasing popularity of padonkaffsky jargon is a logical consequence of the extended use of the Internet as a new (literary) medium: “Когда появляется новый медиум, литература не просто чрезвычайно быстро к нему приспосабливается, но вырабатывает свои, специально для данного медиума вызванные к жизни жанры.”18

(2005: 1). Users of the Internet, i.e., users of the weblog, thus adapt a new writing style that is more suitable for the online environment. Gusejnov’s view implies a more or less practical notion regarding the playful language of padonki:

Предварительный разбор этого способа обращения с языком может быть полезен для тех, кто изучает русский язык как иностранный, и для носителей языка, испытывающих трудности при общении в новой для себя поколенческой или профессионально-поколенческой среде.19 (2005: 1). 18

‘When a new medium arises, literature doesn’t just quickly adapt to it, but rather releases its own genres that are specifically brought to life for this medium. (translation T.S.).

19 Preliminary research on the ways of dealing with this language can be useful for those who study Russian as a

foreigner, and for native speakers who are experiencing difficulties with communicating within this new generational or professional-generational environment.’ (translation T.S.).

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Gusejnov thus sees research regarding this online language as a fruitful tool for – for example – language acquisition. My analysis however, will put more emphasize on the specific linguistic ‘ideas’ behind the padonkaffsky language; in other words, I attempt to have a more in-depth approach towards padonki (especially when combined with the next chapter). Gusejnov also states that we cannot ignore the fact that the language of padonki is not just a ‘game’ but a ‘mechanism’ that preserves and maintains cultural memory’ (Gusejnov, 2005). This observation underlines the fact that there is some sort of sociological and/or ideological idea behind the linguistic mechanisms of padonki. Here again Gusejnov makes a direct connection between the rise of a new medium (Internet) and the development of a new literary genre.

The above-mentioned ‘practical’ approach of Gusejnov is clearly visible in his trichotomy of so-called erratives, i.e., deliberate violations of the standard spelling rules. His 2009 article ‘Instrumenty opisaniia nepolnoĭ kommunikatsii v blogosfere’ (2009) provides researchers with a basic method for describing the communication methods that are used in the sphere of weblogs. At first glance, Gusejnov states, it seems that the virtual arena provides its users with the perfect conditions for an open and complete communication process (e.g. certain ‘offline limitations’ like censorship seem to fade into the background). However, ‘на практике, [..], оказывается, что эти необыкновенно льготные условия, наоборот, делают коммуникаций еще более неполной’20

(2009: 275). Since the Internet eases the possibility for inventing new literary genres and languages/slang, it is even more difficult for both native and non-native speakers to gain a thorough knowledge of all the different online variants that come into being. When it comes to padonki, Gusejnov sees difficulties regarding not only the phonetic spelling of their kreativy, but also the connotative meaning of a plentitude of their expressions. Gusejnov divides the above-mentioned erratives into three different categories:

1) Erratives that are concerned with breaking spelling rules. In the case of padonkaffsky jargon it is noticeable that this mostly implies the phonetic spelling of words: аффтар/афтар instead of автор, ‘author’ or превед instead of привет, ‘hello’. This category is the easiest one to recognize, since it ‘only’ requires a proficient knowledge of the spelling norms of a certain language (i.e., the standard Russian language) and it leaves aside, amongst others, the pragmatic and semantic aspects of a language. Bloggers that use this norm breaking type of errative shouldn’t be looked upon as illiterate or dyslectic, because ‘в

20

In reality it appears that these unusual favorable conditions, on the contrary, make communication even more diffuse. (translation T.S.).

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интернет-сообществах, практикующих эрративы, от пишущих требуют владения «

новой нормой»’21 (Gusejnov, 2009: 277).

2) Erratives that are connected to breaking the rules of ‘political correctness’ (Gusejnov, 2009: 277). This type of erratives implies a trespassing of certain moral and/or ethical codes. When bloggers for example use expressions like фтопку (в топку), ‘in the oven’ or в газенваген, ‘in the gas van’ they refer to the delicate contexts of WWII and in specific the anti-Semitic ideas of the national-socialists. It is obvious that these types of expressions are controversial and are certain to trigger (negative or positive) reactions. They are mainly used in comments to bluntly repudiate bloggers or commenters who misuse or ignore the ideas behind the padonkaffsky jargon. (see: Gusejnov, 2009; Goriunova, 2006). This type of erratives clearly requires more knowledge regarding the original context of the expressions.

3) Erratives that are related to the semantic sphere of internet-memes. This type of erratives is regarded by Gusejnov as the most difficult type of deviations. These expressions can be found within so-called internet-memes (‘[…] the propagation of content items such as jokes, rumors, videos or websites from one person to others via the Internet’ (Shifman, 2013: 362)). Bloggers on padonki-sites seem to use, at first glance, the simplest and most common exclamations, but in fact they intentionally mock certain individuals or groups. The before mentioned meme of Preved, Medved is a good example of this type of erratives.

Besides these three types of erratives, Gusejnov implements another mechanism which is used quite often in padonki weblogs: the so-called literatives (‘liturativ’, from the Latin word ‘litura’, ‘alteration’ (2009: 281)). Gusejnov states that this type has not been described before within linguistic research, therefore he came up with his own terminology. With the concept of literatives, Gusejnov means that bloggers apply the mechanism of strikethrough in their posts. The goal of strikethrough is twofold. First of all, bloggers use it to write words that are normally a taboo and consequently censored. Second, they use strikethrough to express opinions and/or feelings that can be offensive to others, i.e., people outside the ‘community’.22

The problem with Gusjenov’s distinction however - if he really wants to make it a useful tool for L2-learners and/or native speakers who aren’t familiar with padonki - is that it is too general. He underlines the fact that there are regularities within the padonkaffsky jargon (otherwise he wouldn’t have come up with his trichotomy), but he doesn’t divide these

21 In online communities, using erratives requires of writers knowledge of the ‘new norm’. (translation T.S.). 22

For more about this topic, see: A. Piperski & A. Somin: ‘Strikethrough on the Russian Web: Semantics, Syntax and Technical Issues’, 2013.

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common erratives into subcategories. Therefore, I would like to extent and revise this initial division made by Gusejnov. I want to define the type of ‘rules’ that writers who utilize the iazyk Padonkaf use seem to follow within their own discourse. Since users of Udaff.com seem to make statements about the ‘wrong’23

usage of their language, they imply that there is some kind of division between ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. Gusejnov’s list with padonkaffsky words does not make notion of these implications and - furthermore - it leaves out the question whether or not these rules only apply to lexicon only or also to syntax. Another question I would like to answer by conducting this analysis is where the padonki preference for phonetic spelling comes from (Gusejnov’s overview also leaves out this aspect of the padonki language); why did they decide to use this resemblance with spoken language?

In order to come up with an analysis that continues where Gusejnov has left, I decided to use a larger corpus of texts. Also, I did not use LiveJournal as a source for data, since I wanted to see if the trichotomy of Gusejnov is useful within other contexts as well. All my data were taken from the section kreativy (creative stories) from the website Udaff.com. As mentioned before in my introduction, this website is one of the original padonki-sources. The site is launched in 2001 by Dmitry Sokolovsky (its so-called ‘founding father’). The section kreativy is the oldest part of the site and its name represents the padonki culture. Texts were selected randomly between 2001 and 200624 to get a diachronic picture of the website. I took two texts per year, so I ended up with a total of twelve texts. I have also incorporated the first twenty comments underneath each entry, to get a picture of the characteristics of the different reactions. Since I am looking at the webpage as a whole, and not only the texts (on which I will elaborate in the next chapter) I have decided to make print screens of all the pages with a kreativ (see: Empirical Corpus for a complete overview). This way I can use them for my heteroglossic and intertextual approach in the next chapter as well.

The current chapter has its focus on the purely linguistic features of padonki, therefore I will only use the first type of erratives (deviations that are concerned with breaking spelling rules). I will schematize the different types of linguistic mechanisms that I have found in my

23 Важным событием стало официальное закрепление в поисковых системах "правильного" написания

некоторых эрративов [...]. Символично, что в 2008 г. в бумажной версии вышла книга Дмитрия Соколовского "Библия падонков: учебник албанского", в которой авторитетно заверяется «подлинная» генеалогия «езыка», описываются его нормы и правила словообразования, [...] (Zvereva, 2009: 57), ‘An important event was the formalization of the “correct” spelling of some erratives in search engines […]. It is symbolic, that in 2008 a paper version of Dimitry Sokolov’s book “The Bible of padonki: learn Olbanian” appeared, in which an authoritative “authentic” genealogy of the “yazyk” is given, while describing the norms and rules of word formation, […]’ (translation T.S.). This quote shows that the users of Padonki applied certain rules and principles to their language. (see also Gusejnov, 2005; 2007).

24

2001 is the year in which udaff.com went online and 2006 highlights the end of the popularity of the

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data and use the most exemplary utterances to clarify them. The other two types of deviations will be discussed more in detail in the next chapter, since they embed a sociolinguistic aspect as well. An important caveat to keep in mind, however, is that my analysis is only based on texts from udaff.com. More research is needed to show whether or not this scheme will prove itself useful for all blogs, journals etcetera that made use of the iazyk Padonkaf.

Since the padonkaffsky jargon is an online written language, the form of a word, i.e., the way it is written, is an essential part of its aesthetics. The first users of padonki decided to follow the credo ‘write as you hear’ and therefore favored a phonetic spelling norm. This new language was attractive for active users of the Internet for a multitude of reasons. First of all, they were tired of the constraints of formal rules: In the online world writers did not have to follow the offline linguistic norms that were initiated by ‘repressive institutions’ (Berdicevskis & Zvereva, 2014: 126). Second, online users were looking for a more convenient and informal form of digital communication’ (Berdicevskis & Zvereva, 2014: 130), one that is also connected with the human nature of speaking and writing, i.e., with mistakes.

The most common (and more or less visible) deviation within the first category of erratives has to do with the reduction of unstressed vowels. In Russian, the phonemes /o/ and /a/ and the /i/ and /e/ are only distinct when they are in a stressed position, while all four of them become reduced when the syllable is unstressed. This means that /o/ and /a/ phonetically merge into [ɐ], while /i/ and /e/ merge into [ɨ]. A great example of this deviation is shown in the following sentence, derived from the 2003 kreativ written by Амиго ‘Amigo’ (see: empirical corpus, text 5): “Пачиму в Питере, да и в маскве тожы праходит так мало реальных, большых мераприятий КК.”25

Other instances of this derivation are found in the kreativ by Мама Чоли ‘Mama Choli’ (see: empirical corpus, text 10). This text has by far the most examples of different types of ‘rules’ (on which I will elaborate in the upcoming paragraphs). Some of the examples are: пирваначальный ‘initial’, атвликать ‘to distract, вапрос ‘question’, миня ‘mine’ (gen./acc.), вазможно ‘possible’.

Another deviation that I came across was the misspelling of reflexive verbs with –ся (/sja/). I have found a plentitude of examples in the kreativ of Член Пиздидиума ‘Chlen Pizdidiuma’ (see: empirical corpus, text 9): промахнуца ‘to mishit’, сомневаеца ‘to doubt’, шывеляца ‘to move lightly’, решаеца ‘to decide’, пытаеца ‘to try’. I have only found instances of this type of errative in infinitives and in sentences with third person singular –

25

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also when used as impersonal constructions. The spelling form of the suffix here more or less resembles the spoken variant. In all these examples the combination of the two phonemes /t/ and/ s/ is notated as /ts/. This can be explained by the fact that the plosive [t] and fricative [s] get contracted when pronounced, and therefore sound the same as affricate [t͡s].26 Since [t͡s] traditionally is always hard, as a consequence the [æ] (/ja/) becomes reduced and the suffix is pronounced as [t͡sə].

This phonological reduction of vowels is quite common in standard Russian, and therefore an ‘ideal tool’ for the linguistic plays of padonki. Another instance of this derivation is found when voiced consonants in an unstressed position (also at the beginning of a word) are replaced by their voiceless counterparts. In line with this category of deviation I can also add the ‘rule’ of replacing voiceless consonants at the end of a word with their voiced counterparts. Examples of the first type of reduction have been found in the kreativy of Мама Чоли ‘Mama Choli’, in the 2006 entry by Ренсон ‘Renson’ (who gives a review in padonki style of David Cronenberg’s ‘A History of Violence’) and in the work of Член Пиздидиума ‘Chlen Pizdidiuma’ (see: empirical corpus, texts 10, 9 and 11, respectively). Most examples replace the voiced fricative [v] by the voiceless fricative [f]: вооружифшись ‘armed’,приделоф ‘region/area’, заказаф фсяких ‘after ordering all’, фсё ‘everything’. The second type of derivation is an uncommon one, since it isn’t a rule in the pronunciation of standard Russian; voiceless consonants at the end of a word never become voiced. Although this type of derivation is found less often in my data, I added it to my analysis since it shows a more ‘creative’ (instead of phonological) principle of the language of padonki. The words человег ‘human being’ and красавчиг ‘beauty’ (mas.) (which are found both in the interview with Sokolovsky, written bij Amigo; see: empirical corpus, text 5) are two examples of this playful mechanism.

Another remarkable mechanism that is used, is the replacement of iotated vowels (the appearance of a palatal /j/ before a vowel at the beginning of a word or between two vowels in the middle of a word) with a combination of a vowel (/a/ or /o/) and the short i (j/). The iotation of vowels creates a diphthongoid: two adjacent vowel sounds occur within the same syllable. When pronounced, this diphthong forms two separate vowels, and this is visible in the written form in the kreativy. One example is found in ‘Discotteque’, written by Идиолаг

26 There is, however, a discussion about whether or not /ts/ can count as one phoneme or not (since it is basically

a contraction), but I will not go in to detail about this delicate question. For more thorough thoughts about this question, see: Kortlandt, F. ‘Phonetics and Phonemics of Standard Russian’,1973.

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нах27

‘Idiolag Nakh’ (see: empirical corpus, text 1): йоп [ i͡op], which is normally written as ёб [ i͡op] ‘fuck’ (imp.). What is visible here as well, is the replacement of voiced [b] with the voiceless [p] at the end of the word. Another example is taken from ‘Это пиздец’, written by Инженер нах ‘Inzhener Nakh’ (see: empirical corpus, text 6) in 2003: Вьйобывать (instead of Въебывать ‘to get the fuck out of here’), and Мама Чоли ‘Mama Choli’ (see: empirical corpus, text 10) used the word йумор instead of юмор ‘humor’.

The Russian language normally favors a phonemic spelling system, i.e., ‘write in a way that retains the most consistent spelling of morphs across different word forms’ (Berdicevskis & Zvereva, 2014: 130). Padonki however seems to do the exact opposite in some cases. The most clear cut example of this deviation is found in the caption underneath the picture that has been placed by ФимаПсихопадт ‘FimaPsikhopadt’ (see: empirical corpus, text 8) on the main page of udaff.com in 2004: никаких аффтаритетафф, чистый креатифф! ‘no kind of authorities, clean creativy!’. There are three instances of double /f/ in this sentence, but when pronouncing these words the double consonants will sound as one single consonant in normal speech; one will hear [f] and not [ff]. Here the spelling doesn’t approach pronunciation (as would have been expected of padonki), but rather moves away from it. The credo of ‘write as you hear’ is clearly violated.

The last mechanism I would like to add is the overuse of interjections, uppercase, punctuation and the exaggerative repetition of consonants and vowels to resemble (instances of) spoken language. Gusejnov does not make mention of this type of erratives, but I tend to label these ‘deviations’ as the breaking of a ‘grammatical rule’ as well, since the use of these playful tools is also concerned with phonetical principles. I have found the most deviation of this type in the texts of Амиго ‘Amigo’ and Инженер нах ‘Inzhener Nakh’(see: empirical corpus, texts 5 and 6, respectively). The first sentence of Amigo’s kreativ: ‘Суууууууукааааааааааааа!Йоптваююююю! Это пиздец!!! Да ну это нахуй...да ну бля..ну что за хуйня то???!!! Ахуеть бля!’28

includes a multitude of examples within one short sentence sequence. I have found the interjections бля ‘fuck’ and да ну ‘by gad’, the overuse of the exclamation and question mark (‘???!!!’) and the repetition of /a/ and /jo/ in the first two words. All these mechanisms are clearly put into use to resemble spoken language; when reading the first two words, сука ‘whore’ and йоптваю ‘fuck that’, it is almost as if one can hear the writer express his dissatisfaction. This is also expressed through

27 Note the fact that the second part of his name is an abbreviation for ‘на хуй!’ (na khuĭ), which can be translated as ‘go to hell’ or ‘fuck of’.

28

‘Whoooooooore! Fuckthaaaaaat! That’s fucked up!!! By gad, that’s fucked….by gad, fuck…what’s that shit???!!! That’s fucked up!’ (translation T.S.).

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the use of uppercase in НЕТ ‘no’ and ПЕРВЫЙ ‘first’. In the interview with Sokolovsky, the use of бля is also quite common, just as expressions like Бугагагагагаг ‘haha’, гыгыгыгыгы ‘hihi’ and Эээээ ‘Hmm’. The first two can be categorized as onomatopoeias; they imitate the sound of laughter and giggle. The latter one resembles the expression of doubt, i.e., when one is uncertain of what to say. What is clear within this category, is the fact that this overuse and exaggerative repetition emphasizes the playful character of digital writing; it is what Brenda Danet calls the ‘meta-message “this is play”’ (see: Danet, 2001 for more about the primacy of play); the pragmatics of spoken language are used here within the written context.

What is obvious in all these examples is that the norms of orthography are violated. They are an example of what Berdicevskis & Zvereva call ‘anti-orthography’ (Berdicevskis & Zvereva, 2014: 131). The morphological principles of the Russian language, i.e., the structure of the language’s morphemes is taken over by the phonetical principles, i.e., the properties of speech sounds, and these are converted to the orthography of the padonkaffsky jargon. Furthermore, my division shows that the language of padonki can be interpreted as not as creative as the users try to carry out; to a large extent padonki follows the principles of the Russian grammar (but in a more or less reversed way). The only ‘real’ creativeness is the moving away from spelling rules, by writing double consonants in words when that is not necessary (i.e., in normal Russian speech one would not hear the difference between one or two consonants). Consequently, we could state padonki isn’t a typical ‘secret language’, since the principles of this language (i.e., grammar and style) are fairly easy to grasp for speakers with a certain proficiency in Russian.

This chapter has shown that the users of padonki had a preference for the violating of orthographical norms. This can be explained by the fact that padonki is a visual language and orthography is the first thing that meets the eye. Androutsopoulos underlines this idea by stating that ‘[…] that what characterizes language and discourse online is […] a heightened attention to all aspects of written language as a key mode of signification’. (Androutsopoulos, 2011: 280). Therefore it seems to be the most convenient playful tool that can initiate the shifting of linguistic conventions and emphasize the fact that language cannot be institutionalized. However, as my ‘grammar’ has shown, it is important to keep in mind that even padonki is not immune for regulation. Especially the latter part of the conclusion – the fact that padonki is not unregulated and as free as it seems to be at first glance – is a fruitful addition to Gusejnov’s initial analysis. He completely ignores the idea that there is a

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consistency behind the orthographical playfulness and consequently leaves out the so-called ‘bigger picture’ of the Padonki subculture.

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4. Sociolinguistic Analysis

The previous chapter focused on the linguistic tools that users of padonki utilized on udaff.com. My analysis showed that the orthographical (morphological) features and the violation of norms seemed to be a reflection of the libertinage of the bloggers on udaff.com. The usage of their vernacular Russian was not only a conventional choice within the Internet, but also an explicit statement against offline regulation and the before mentioned standardization of the Russian language, which was regulated by the government. Their idea of a complete freedom of speech is visible on a more (extra)textual (i.e., not only text, but also hyperlinks, images etcetera) level as well, regarding for example themes and stylistic registers. The focus in the current chapter will therefore shift from the smaller linguistic elements to the ‘bigger picture’, to the (extra)textual elements and the interaction between these different mediums. Together with the findings from my linguistic analysis, I will be able to provide a more in-depth picture of the Padonki experiments.

The interdependency between language, (social) identity, history and culture is a transnational phenomenon that gained a lot of attention within the research field of sociolinguistics (see: Herring, 1996b; Danet and Herring, 2003b), and – more recently – within ((post)colonial) translation studies29 (see: Meylaerts, 2006; Grutman, 1998; Shamma, 2009). With the emergence of the World Wide Web, ample sociolinguistic research has been done concerning concepts like language variation, bilingualism and the relationship between online and offline, written and/or spoken language and, in specific, the relationship with new technologies (see: Androutsopoulos, 2006; Darics, 2013). From a more postcolonial angle translation studies focused on ‘questions of identity, representation, and difference’ (Shamma, 2009: 185), taking into account the political aspects of (in the case of Padonki) intra-national translation and emphasizing the problematic relationship between the ‘Self’ and ‘Other’ (i.e. users of padonki versus non-users).

According to Erika Darics, computer-mediated communication (CMC) fascinated researchers from the early onset on because it was – amongst other things - seen as a ‘resource for identity representation’ (Darics, 2013: 141). This means that users who utilize online language show who they are (or, who they would like to be) through the use of this

29Following Shamma’s definition of postcolonial translation studies, stating that asymmetrical power relations

are the defining element of the postcolonial ‘situation’, the Russian-speaking domain can be looked upon as the arena where these unequal power relations have defined the course of its linguistic and cultural development (Shamma, 2009: 187).

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vernacular language. As we will see in the upcoming chapter, the use of padonki provided writers on udaff.com with the ideal circumstances for this kind of online (discursive) identity representation, and a means to address unequal power relations by ‘translating’ standard Russian into their online dissident variant (see: Shamma, 2009).

The past few years the focus within sociolinguistics gradually shifted towards the more specified field of new media sociolinguistics (see: Thurlow, C. and Mroczek K., 2011). According to Androutsopoulos, the problem however with research regarding internet linguistics is the fact that ‘most language-focused research on new media tends to situate itself within established approaches in socially oriented linguistics’ (Androutsopoulos, 2011: 277). One of the limitations with this way of looking at the World Wide Web is that researchers study online language as if it approximates offline conversational interaction. Androutsopoulos sees new ways of conducting research in which ‘exaggerated assumptions about the distinctiveness of new media language’ (Thurlow & Mroczek, 2011: xxi) are challenged. He suggests that researchers should move beyond their interest in the ‘formal features of new media language’ (Thurlow & Mroczek, 2011: xxi) and instead focus more on the ‘situated practices of new media users’ (Thurlow & Mroczek, 2011: xxi). By using Androutsopoulos’ approach, I have the possibility to look at the language of Padonki not solely as a linguistic experiment with all its ‘formal’ features (hence the previous chapter), but also as a tool for the construction of one’s online identity. I will elaborate on this aspect of the iazyk Padonkaf in the upcoming analysis. One of the characteristics of the Web 2.0 environments Androutsopoulos talks about, in comparison with ‘older’ web settings, is the fact that the language used here is no longer the main (and therefore the most present) feature of these environments:

[…], in contemporary Web 2.0 environments language comes integrated in visually organized environments, verbal exchanges tend to be more fragmented and dependent on multimodal context, and meaning is constructed through the interplay of language and other semiotic means. (Androutsopoulos, 2011: 279)

Androutsopoulos’ definition implies an interactive approach towards websites, where verbal and non-verbal signs, as utilized by the users of these sites, construct meaning. Although the content on the padonki site udaff.com mainly consists of textual elements (especially in the first couple of years of its existence) I tend to label it as a ‘web 2.0 environment’ as well. There are a few logical and practical arguments for this choice. First, according to the

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