It’s true what you said about structure forcing a person to organize thoughts into a specific format. Mandarin and Cantonese have no verb ‘to be’. So the concept of time is difficult to pin down.
When will it be ready?
- Tomorrow.
Great, thank you. I’ll call before I come by.
- OK.
Hi, I’m here to pick this up. (present ticket)
- It’s not ready.
OK, when can I get it?
- Tomorrow.
Great, thank you. I’ll call before I come by.
- OK.
(repeat ad infinitum)
It is also because of that structure that people choose the language in which they would prefer to write. Arab Christians *never* write to their parents in Arabic and never speak to their children in Arabic. It’s a language they pick up in schools. At home and in church, they speak French. It’s the language of emotional intimacy.
Czech author Milan Kundera writes in French. Nabokov writes in English and then translates his own work into Russian.
I have always thought that children raised with two ormore languages have certain advantages in all their school subjects because of being able to approach problems from slightly different directions.
Seems to me that is easily explained by the fact that the author grew up in a different culture. It's not necessarily the language. I've been fluent in Spanish, as my second language. Never noticed any difference in my brainwaves when speaking it :)