Latvijas ceļu karte

Latvian Road Map. 1: 200 000. 1940. Road Atlas of Latvia. Commissioned by the Karl Ernst von Baer Foundation, in association with Hans Feldmann, Wolfgang Kreft, Ingeborg Lilienblum, and Guntars Martinsons. Edited by Wilfried Schlau. J. G. Herder Institute. Marburg/Lahn, 1991. This is a work prepared by the Johann Gottfried Herder Institute, of interest and value not only to tourists traveling to Latvia, but also to linguists, especially researchers of proper names. Its foundation is the photographic reproduction of the text of the “Latvian Road Atlas” (“Latvijas ceļu karte”), published in Riga in 1940: 59 maps and indexes. This atlas was written in Latvian. In order to make it more accessible to foreigners, the authors of the work under review “Germanized” it in a highly ingenious way, with characteristic German pedantry: they included a foreword in German by the principal editor, W. Schlau; explanations in three languages (German, Latvian, English); and various indexes, the two most important of which are an alphabetical index of Latvian place names with their German equivalents and an alphabetical index in German and Latvian. Each contains approximately 2,500 place names. What makes them particularly interesting to linguists is that Latvian place names are not “transliterated” into German, that is, not “rewritten” in German letters, but are given their traditional German equivalents. They often differ considerably from the Latvian forms, for example: Latvian Aizpute – German Hasenpoth, Latvian Bačiūzi – German Backhusen, Latvian Barkava – German Borchhof, Latvian Bebrene – German Bewern, Latvian Beja – German Begenhof, Latvian Bertava – German Borkwitz, Latvian Birkinele – German Berckenhagen, Latvian Bundžas – German Bunsenberg, and so on. There are also many cases where the German name is entirely different: Latvian Binuži – German Kudling, Latvian Beļupe – German Gaidup, Latvian Belava – German Kortlenhof, Latvian Biksere – German Libbien, Latvian Biriņi – German Koltzen, Latvian Brunava – German Windsheim, Latvian Bukas – German Suddenbach, Latvian Bunka – German Funkenhof, Latvian Izliede – German Fischröden. There are quite a number of such cases. They show that the German language substantially altered Latvian place names. A closer analysis of these lists could yield interesting material for identifying patterns in the adaptation of Latvian place names into German. The indexes also show, among other things, that there were cases of translation from Latvian into German, and sometimes perhaps vice versa—from German into Latvian—for example: Latvian Augstrozės – German Hochrosen, Latvian Augšciems – German Hochendorf, Latvian Baltāmuiža – German Weißhof, Latvian Baltezers – German Weißen see, Latvian Ezermuiža – German Seehof, Latvian Jaunmuiža – German Neuhof, Latvian Kalnmuiža – German Berghof, Latvian Liep as – German Lindenhof, and so on. This, too, is a fairly common phenomenon, possible only in a particular situation—that of bilingualism (provided, of course, that it occurs naturally in everyday speech; bureaucratic and written translations are another matter, and these also seem to have existed, but distinguishing the two types of translation without specialized studies is very difficult). Alongside these two large indexes, the editors also added detailed lists, in German and Latvian, of the place names on each map, including urbanonyms (street, square, and park names), hotels, cultural monuments, petrol stations, and the like. These, like the two indexes mentioned above, are once again interesting from the point of view of Latvian–German language interference. It should also be emphasized that the reprinted— 243 —indexes include all those found in the “Latvian Road Atlas.” There are as many as twelve: indexes of parishes, villages, railway stations, lakes, rivers, major hills, and so forth. The indexes occupy most of the atlas and constitute an important source on Latvian place names. Not to mention that they help atlas users find their way around easily. The publication is beautifully designed, and the quality of the reprinted maps is exemplary. One can only regret that Lithuania does not have an atlas of its own. Aleksandras Vanagas 244