So here’s something wild: Frisian used to be written in ways that would make your head spin. And I’m not talking about the standard Latin alphabet everyone uses now. I’m talking about the old writing systems that existed before anyone decided to standardize things.
Let’s start with the really old stuff. Medieval Frisian was written using whatever scribes felt like using that day. Okay, not exactly, but pretty close. There was no standardized spelling system, so the same word could be spelled ten different ways depending on which monk was having a go at it.
Old Frisian texts from the 13th to 16th centuries look absolutely bonkers to modern eyes. Scribes used special characters and letter combinations that don’t exist in modern Frisian. They had ligatures (fancy connected letters), abbreviations that look like squiggles, and letters that have completely vanished from the language.
One of the coolest examples is the letter þ (called “thorn”). Frisian borrowed this from Old English and Old Norse. It represented the “th” sound. Imagine writing “that” as “þat”. The thorn eventually disappeared, but for centuries it was just hanging out in Frisian texts looking mysterious and cool.
Then there’s the long s, which looks like an f but isn’t. Medieval Frisian texts are full of these. The word “stoarm” (storm) might look like “ftoarm” to modern readers. It confused everyone then too, which is probably why it eventually got dropped.
But here’s where it gets really interesting. During the period when Frisian wasn’t being written down much (roughly the 16th to 19th centuries), the language survived almost entirely through oral tradition. When people finally started writing it again, nobody could agree on how to spell anything.
Different regions developed different writing conventions. West Frisian, East Frisian, and North Frisian all went their own ways. Some used Dutch-influenced spelling. Some tried to create phonetic systems. Some just made it up as they went along.
The modern Frisian alphabet finally got standardized in the 20th century. Now it uses 32 letters, including some fun additions like â, ê, and ô. These aren’t just decorative – they actually represent different sounds that English doesn’t have.
The letter y in Frisian is pronounced like the English “ee” in “sleep”. So “frysk” sounds like “freask”. This throws everyone off the first time they see it.
Frisian also has some letter combinations that work differently than you’d expect. The combination “ij” is common in Dutch, but Frisian uses it differently. And “oe” makes an “oo” sound, not the “oo” you’re thinking of, but a different one. Linguistics is fun like that.
One of the quirkiest things about Frisian orthography is how it handles double vowels. Frisian loves its double vowels. Words like “koe” (cow) and “griene” (green) are everywhere. The doubling changes the sound in specific ways that take forever to learn but sound beautiful once you get them.
Modern standardization came with controversy, of course. Some people wanted spelling that reflected pronunciation. Others wanted spelling that showed the language’s historical roots. The compromise pleased nobody completely, which is how you know it’s a real language standardization effort.
Today, if you pick up a Frisian book, you’ll see mostly familiar letters doing mostly unfamiliar things. It’s close enough to English and Dutch that you think you should understand it, but different enough that you definitely don’t.
The old manuscripts, though? Those are treasures. Libraries in Leeuwarden and elsewhere hold these gorgeous handwritten texts where you can see scribes wrestling with how to capture their language on paper. Some pages have corrections, cross-outs, and margin notes where they’re clearly just trying to figure it out as they go.
The beauty of Frisian orthography is that it’s still evolving. New words need new spellings. Loanwords from English and Dutch need to be adapted. The language committee meets and debates and decides, keeping the written language alive and relevant.
So yeah, Frisian doesn’t use that secret old alphabet anymore. But knowing it existed makes reading modern Frisian way cooler. You’re participating in a writing tradition that’s been adapting and surviving for over a thousand years.
Not many languages can say that.
