‘Gibraltarians are a little odd. They are a resistant people.’ So explained a Spanish friend of mine when I mentioned that I was reading a collection of essays – linguistic biographies, actually – by Gibraltarians about the role of multiple languages in their lives. Having grown up in Andalusia, just steps away from the British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar, he had had his share of Gibraltarian encounters.
What did he mean when he called them ‘odd’ and ‘resistant’? I asked my friend. His answer: ‘When spoken to in Spanish, they will answer in English. When spoken to in English, they will answer in Spanish.’
Gibraltarians and their Language: 22 Linguistic Biographies doesn’t quite contradict my friend’s impression of Gibraltarians, but it does offer a great deal of nuance. Each linguistic biography illustrates a measure of proud allegiance to a language, neither English nor Spanish, called ‘Llanito’. Clearly, there are some complicated sociolinguistic dynamics at play in Gibraltar, and this volume fruitfully explores these dynamics by getting out from ‘under the microscope’ (p. 11) of disciplinary sociolinguistics and learning from the speakers themselves. These 22 testimonials not only illuminate an outsider’s casual impression of Gibraltarian communication but also provide new sociolinguistic insights made possible through the emerging methodology of linguistic biography (Busch Reference Busch, Martin-Jones and Martin2017; Franceschini Reference Franceschini2022).
As readers make their way through the book, they will find that this arrangement of 22 stories, told by the speakers themselves and organized in descending order by age, might be the optimal way to understand the lived experience of sociolinguistic nuance present in the diverse forms of multilingualism on ‘The Rock’. This approach is a thoroughly enjoyable way to absorb the themes about Gibraltarian speakers woven through the pages – and to appreciate the emergent questions and wide-ranging answers about their language: What is ‘Llanito’ anyway? What is the social value of multilingualism? How have the roles of schools, language policy and social media impacted Llanito over the last several decades? In what follows, I touch on some of the nuanced answers these 22 linguistic biographies provide.
What is Llanito?
The brief and usefully orienting introduction from the editors describes Llanito as a ‘subversive tongue’ (p. 14) but never succinctly nor technically defines it. As the reader proceeds through the linguistic biographies that follow, it seems that there are as many ways of defining ‘Llanito’ (also ‘Yanito’) as people who speak it and the stories they tell. The term is illuminated rather than defined across these multiple testimonials. These storytellers don’t orient to a static linguistic description, but to nuanced social understandings of how Llanito functions in their lives. This doesn’t stop these linguistic biographers from attempting various definitions: Llanito is ‘an intonation and an accent’ (Hernandez, p. 33), ‘our own hybrid language’ (C. Durante, p. 26), ‘social talk – Llanito, with a lot of Spanish in it’ (Cortes, p. 36), ‘a code-switching mix of English and Spanish’ (G. Durante, p. 146). Some descriptions invoke the quirky language of elders: ‘If there was a particularly strong levanter [ocean wind …] my grandfather would say: hace un baroji’ (Anderson, p. 40). Others recall the hyper-local quality of the Spanish of Gibraltarians, which is sometimes more like English: ‘Un bocadillo had until then [a trip to Madrid], been un sangwish’ (Anderson, p. 43).
Rather than categorizing Llanito as what some linguists might call a creole (Mufwene Reference Mufwene2008) or a form of translanguaging (García & Wei Reference García and Wei2014), Gibraltarians describe their speech as a special form of multilingualism: ‘We are multilingual because a third language has evolved as a result of our cultural and linguistic heritage. … There are millions of English speakers in the world as there are millions of speakers of Spanish, but Llanito is what distinguishes Gibraltarians from any of them’ (Enriles, p. 63). As another contributor writes, ‘I would like to boast that I know the science behind how I learned language. I don’t. … I would rather recount the complex, colourful, frustrating, extraordinary and joyous journey of the language of my life’ (Villa, p. 65).
In these linguistic biographies, each a distinctive journey of a life in language, Gibraltarians show how their language is a living, active way of being for them, not an object to be described and defined. Each of these accounts leans heavily on context and interaction to illuminate not simply what Llanito is, but what it does, socially.
The multifaceted value of Gibraltarian multilingualism
The portraits of Gibraltarian language in many of these biographies also illuminate the value of multilingualism more broadly. These proud speakers see multilingualism as a powerful way of engaging with the world creatively, of enjoying other people and places, and as a useful tool for finding a job and building a career.
Several contributors have chosen to express their Gibraltarian identity and to portray Gibraltarian society through creative endeavors – as playwrights, poets, novelists, journalists or podcasters – intentionally calling on their multilingual repertoire. One contributor, Jackie Villa, founded a theater and puts on plays that include English, Spanish and Llanito. Another, M. G. Sanchez, has written novels using distinctly Gibraltarian multilingualism to portray his homeland. Sanchez describes with hope what he sees as a ‘spirit of revival and renewal’ manifested in creative writing and new cultural organizations that support writing in Llanito (p. 81). Another Gibraltarian playwright describes a long struggle to understand her own relationship to multilingualism, her decision to ‘hang up her hangups’ about ‘not speaking another language fluently’ as she develops an intimate sense of her own ‘accent of the region’, including its ‘slang words and cultural references’, even creating a new Llanito dictionary (Calderon, p. 95). A singer-songwriter and fiction writer also expresses a poignant backstory to his own embrace of multilingualism, describing his younger self as feeling ‘alingual at times’ (Moreno, p. 99). Through his creative life, however, he became ‘more and more linked with all the versions of myself’ (p. 104) and all the forms of language he uses to express himself.
Other contributors express how their distinctly Gibraltarian, Llanito language runs through their memories of friendships, family ties or romance. Many describe thoroughly multilingual childhoods with fondness: ‘my foundation in language was forged from my life in the patio, with its vibrant, diverse and colourful spectacle of words (Villa, p. 67). Contributors universally express the importance of Spanish and Llanito as portals into emotion, informality, friendship and family. As Sanchez recalls, ‘the moment the kids stepped out into the playground we went straight into Llanito mode, speaking mostly in Spanish with odd English interpolations here and there’ (p. 75).
In addition to Llanito’s importance as a vessel of creativity, emotion, memory and friendship, most biographies also describe the practical usefulness of ‘Llanito mode’ and the way it facilitates the growth of an expansive multilingual repertoire. One contributor describes his multilingual journey as one of ‘careering through language’ – as he literally builds a career by drawing on his multilingual talents (Porro, p. 54). His professional life spanned stints as a French, Spanish and Italian teacher, a linguist-analyst for the UK government, and a legal translator in Europe. He built a career out of his facility with multiple languages, a fluidity of engagement he sees as rooted in his Gibraltarian upbringing. Others describe how their distinctively Gibraltarian multilingualism led them into careers as teachers, bankers or realtors.
The many threats to Llanito language and culture
Despite the obvious creative and practical value of Llanito in the lives of Gibraltarians, as well as the emotional connections and memories their unique forms of multilingualism carry for them, most contributors also describe the gradual waning of this form of communication from their lives. Many of these biographies recall distinctive features of their life – schooling, travel to the United Kingdom, increased access to popular media – that pushed them away from Llanito.
In some cases, the rigidity of standardized forms of language education in schools, and the language policy that bolstered that monolingual curriculum, drove away any form of Spanish. Stories of rigidly oppressive school contexts predominate in the testimonials from older Gibraltarians. In school, writes one, ‘You were expected to keep the two languages in separate compartments and there was a feeling that the purity of English had been besmirched [when mixed with Spanish]!’ (C. Durante, p. 25). Another older contributor describes ‘the strap that killed Llanito’ (Cortes, p. 35). While at home, he ‘happily and confidently switched languages without giving it a second thought’. But while at school, in the 1960s and 1970s, the punishment for speaking Spanish at all was a ‘leather strap on the palm of your hand’ (p. 35). Enriles corroborates, ‘I would never dream of speaking to a teacher in Spanish’ (p. 59). Moreno describes the colonial undertones of these impositions: ‘We were subjects of Her graceful Majesty the Queen after all and we should refrain from speaking any Spanish at all.’ Moreno’s next sentence makes the sarcasm explicit: ‘I didn’t quite understand why the old woman in the faraway castle cared for our linguistic preferences, but I did my absolute best to obey where possible’ (p. 98).
That faraway castle seemed to exert a magnetic pull on many Gibraltarians, and several contributors leave Gibraltar and go to the UK for university and more English education. The British curriculum enforced so rigidly in Gibraltar schools was intended to lead them in that direction and prepare them for success. Even so, many describe how, upon arrival in the supposed Motherland, they were seen as inscrutable outsiders due to the way they spoke. This unwelcoming context, far away from their multilingual homeland, pushed many of these Gibraltarians to further abandon Llanito, at least for a time. ‘Am I a fool and a foreigner, then?’ (p. 103), Moreno asks, recalling his feelings at the awkward reception he gets in England, despite his British passport and British education in Gibraltar. While these foreign encounters often led to shame about one’s language and identity, they also fostered a subsequent awakening: a recognition of linguistic and cultural hybridity, and an appreciation of their own multilingual abilities.
With modernity, and the advancing global reach of mass media technologies, another set of complicating dynamics came into play affecting Gibraltarian language. As one contributor writes, ‘from the 1990s onwards … satellite TV and the Internet were linguistic and cultural game-changers’ (Trinidad, p. 108). The tendrils of standardized and colonial languages could reach into the old patios and kitchens of extended families and multiple generations, once holdouts of Gibraltarian language hybridity. The ubiquitous influence of popular media and new technologies meant that schools were no longer the sole sources of English language. Many describe enthusiastically embracing English-language TV and popular music as children and, in turn, using less and less Spanish at home.
But some contributors also describe new media as facilitating Llanito communication. While TV and cable seem to have smoothed the path for English domination in Gibraltar, popular internet-based social media may also have revived an informal context of communication where a Llanito resurgence is possible. As one Gibraltarian writes, hopefully, ‘In WhatsApp of course, Llanito is rife’ (Cortes, p. 36). Another laments the way autocorrect tends to expunge the ‘rich diversity’ of forms of written Llanito but recognizes that ‘the occasional gem can still be found and admired on Gibraltarian Facebook groups’ (Trinidad, p. 108). The optimistic linguistic biographers in this volume further attest to the potential of new media for reviving interest and facility in old Llanito ways. As Gibraltarian novelist M. G. Sanchez writes at the end of his own contribution, ‘This very book you are holding in your hands bears testimony to this spirit of revival and renewal’ (p. 81).
Gibraltarians and their Language, as suggested by Sanchez, succeeded in providing this reader with a vivid look into that spirit of revival and renewal, as well as a snapshot of the historical trajectory of multilingualism on Gibraltar. It also modeled a unique approach to documenting language diversity, through the voices of speakers themselves. This approach illuminates the nuance of multilingualism more broadly and offers a refreshing epistemological shift by locating expertise in those Gibraltarian ‘citizen sociolinguists’ (Rymes Reference Rymes2020). Still, I was left with some niggling questions regarding the methodology and the kinds of conclusions we can make by using it: How were these stories gathered? Over email? Over beers? Why these 22 individuals? How were they selected and who was left out? What made these Gibraltarians worthy of inclusion? How are they related to the editors? One of the editors is a contributor – why not the others? I was hoping a concluding chapter or epilogue would bring answers to these questions and return to the editors’ own new questions emerging from this collection of biographies.
That said, each of these stories offers up its own slice of insight, and I was able to build my own impressions out of those slices. I strongly recommend this book to all who have professional or personal interest in Gibraltarian language or any form of linguistic diversity, and to teachers and professors who want to convey the importance of linguistic biography as both a research method and a form of writing. I hope to see more studies that emulate this format.
