How to do things with words
Jerry has a post on most-hated verbal infelicities. Solecisms, he elegantly says, but I’m going to be cagy, in order to avoid the obligatory lecture about How Language Works. There are no Mistakes; whatever most people do is Right; language is constantly evolving; lots of putative rules are just made up; language is arbitrary; what you think is a new Mistake actually goes back to Knut. Right. Got all that. Not talking about Mistakes. Talking about things I don’t like.
Because I thought I would mention a few things I don’t like.
- May instead of might. “If things had been different Hitler may have won the war.” No; he might have, but it is not the case that he may have; we know that he didn’t, so “may” is the wrong word.
- Impact as a verb.
- Beg the question used to mean raise the question.
- Dangling clauses. “Walking up the hill, a dog grabbed my lunch.”
And then there are some oddities of British English.
- Making up their own way of pronouncing Barack. I don’t get this. Why don’t people just take their lead from how he says it himself? Why do they think they get to have their own way of saying other people’s names? BBC reporters pronounce it in a really bizarre and stupid way – Ba-rakk, with the “Ba” pronounced as if it rhymed with hat. The two syllables rhyme – two short flat as, and with equal emphasis (a spondee). That’s comprehensively wrong. It’s pronounced like Barock, with the first syllable a schwa and the second accented. What’s the problem there? It’s not somehow hard for British people to say, the way a French r is hard for all anglophones to say. So why won’t they say it right? It’s so rude. It’s not as if it’s a word they already have a settled pronunciation for, so why do they insist on doing it wrong?
- Intrusive R. Laura norder, North career, Indier and China.
- Over-corrected missing R. They ah in the house. That one is perhaps a bit fussy, but it gets on my nerves. Since intrusive R is so pervasive in contemporary British English, why not just get over it and say they are in the house? People who make a self-conscious effort not to pronounce the intrusive R give an irritating little hitch when they say things like “ah in the house” – there’s a little pause and glottal stop there that just isn’t necessary. Go ahead, say are in; ah rin; it’s allowed even in your terms.
- Squeezed vowels. There are some accents (and I don’t know which ones – I don’t know enough to locate them – not Liverpool or Northern or West Country or East End or estuary) where the oo sound is so squeezed it sounds like ee. Troops are treeps. It’s irritating.
There, that’s enough being annoying for now.
There are no Mistakes, but on the other hand, there is good writing and bad writing. I’m an editor, and I do a lot of work on small verbal items of this kind. I use the subjunctive; I turn “impact” into “affect” or “harm”; I fix dangling clauses.
I also think that a lot of putative rules are made up though. The rule about prepositions at the end of a sentence, for instance – that’s a nonsense rule. Granted it can sometimes sound clumsy and inelegant to end a long complicated sentence with “of” or “for”…but it can also sound stilted and Martian to do the “of which” thing. I once had a very stilted “for which” thing in an article for TPM, and I wanted to change it into normal English, but I hesitated to do that to the author, who might think the rule is important. So I consulted Julian, and he said “normal every time!” That was what I thought. Sometimes “for which” is ok, but sometimes it just sticks out; this time it stuck out; TPM should be readable.
And that’s how it is in general. You want some flexibility, and a lot of sense of which rules (or “rules”) matter more than others, and a decent ear.
Let’s make this easy:
http://languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/
There’s a search function, but it sucks. Use it anyway. And/or look at the categories Peeving (http://languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/?cat=62 ) and Prescriptivist Poppycock (http://languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/?cat=5 ) would be good places to start. (Sorry, but the link-embedding button still doesn’t work for me.)
Noöne’s saying that! What we are trying to say, is that there are more registers and variations on the standard than dreamt of in your philosophy.
As for r+ and r- (rhoticity), I think you’ll find that these are not used by the same bloody people. It’s a variation in pronunciation from locale to locale. Same goes for vowel quality. Do you want to complain about Englishmen not having a cot-caught merger as well?
As for Barack in RP or BBC speak, Iono the cause. But I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the US pronunciation doesn’t fit standard RP phonotactics or summat. The reverse argument is made against whatever newsreader it is that pronounces “Afghanistan” with the proper Afghan inventory of consonants. It may be ‘authentic’, but it’s wrong in English. Just as noöne expects you to say Danmark, Deutschland and Köln.
ARRGLE! RARRGLE! BLARRGLE!
I hate the use of “as such” merely as a synonym for “accordingly” or “therefore”. As in: “Karma has been hurt fighting against the invading killer robots from the future. As such, we’d better do what we can to protect her.” As what, dammit?
The phrase is fine in: “Magneto is the most powerful mutant in the world. As such, he has a special responsibility to protect Utopia from the hordes of attacking killer robots.” Here, you could use “accordingly”, but “as such” is fine because you can ask “As what?” and get a sensible answer: i.e., as “the most powerful mutant in the world”. The responsibility alleged in the second sentence connects up with what we’ve been told in the first sentence about what he is. It’s much more specific than just “accordingly”.
This one always drives me crazy.
(I hope someone out there in B&W land appreciates my X-Men-related examples.)
I have a soft spot in my heart for the “Intrusive R” because Otis Redding would do it from time to time in his songs to make the lyrics fit. Sure, in speaking it is a drag, but as long as I think of Otis, I can get by.
Good rule: it is best to use the Oxford Comma. You never want to dedicate your book to “My parents, God and Ayn Rand”.
Bad rule: split infinitives. In the sentence “To boldly go where no man has gone before”, “boldly” appears before “go” because the adverb is meant to be presented as being more cognitively salient than the verb. As far as Star Trek goes, it doesn’t really matter that they’re going, that they’re men, and that they’re men going where other men haven’t — it’s that it’s done BOLDLY.
But you can’t screw up syntax: SVO vs. OVS :
Jim likes cookies or Cookies like Jim.
Yes, the BBC’s “Ba-rakk” thing is really confusing and annoying and strange. It still jars me a bit every time I hear it.
Ah, the intrusive/vanishing R thing…preserved in New England as well, famously by JFK & his problems with “Cuber.” When I lived in Boston in the early 80’s, I heard a newscaster begin a story with “Chryslah Chaihman, Lee Iaccoker…”
Speaking of Boston accents, there was also a joke running around then about what PS DS meant (pronounce the letters). Anyone know?
(Hate to follow my own post, but can I help it if no one’s contributed since then?)
Another pet peeve–we seem to be losing the past tense of “lead.” Was just reminded by reading this from another blog:
Grrrrrrrr!
I’ve noticed British speakers using a short A in Spanish words even though they use a long A in words which in America are pronounced with a short A. There’s a systematic tendency to mispronounce foreign words.
(One thing I like about Obama is his practice of using long A when pronouncing Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan.)
Benjamin: I have a reflexive problem about split infinitives because the man who taught me English in my senior years at high school was the author if a widely used and excruciatingly dull textbook of English grammar. He hated teaching about literature, and accordingly would sieze on any opportunity in a class about drama or the novel (we were not taught poetry, as he considered it beyond us) to depart from that in favour of the etymology of some word he had found in the text, and from there it was but a short step for him to pedantically grammaticise about split infinitives and the rest of the Bag of Errors.
Schoolboys are a callous lot, and there was wild cheering from our ranks when we learned the news that he had passed on. He was a devout Catholic, and in keeping with the rationalist foundations of this site I have no hesitation in deducing that he went to Heaven; because if he went to Hell he would only have lasted a short time before the whole place was driven mad, and he was kicked Upstairs.
I youthfully concluded from his lessons that grammar was the invention of some pedantic committee, probably meeting regularly in some dingy back room in the Headquarters of the NSW Education Department in Sydney. Only later did I realise that its rules are a great consensus, arrived at by millions of speakers and contributors over centuries, just as is the case for the corpus of mathematics and science, and that the business of the grammarian is deducing these rules from the way the language is actually used.
But split infinitives are undesirable because they multiply the number of verbs to blazes. From the simple verb ‘to go’ for example, we can derive the compound verbs ‘to eagerly go’ and ‘to more eagerly go’, and so on, accelerating to infinity. That is why I try to assiduously avoid them wherever I can.
It irks me to hear an Irish surname like Mahoney, with ‘hon’ sounding like the first stem of Hon(duras) pronounced, instead, as ‘(in on something). Whatever about the British doing it, I am not completely sure, but the Americans definitely do it.
I do not like the way most Irish do not pronounce ‘ th’ properly, but, I think it derives from way back in time when they spoke Gaelic. All the sticking out of tongues is only reserved for the wafer and this that and the other.
It grates on me to hear people call ‘euro’, ‘euros’, when it does not change in its plurality. I heard a broadcaster using it on the street when she was practicing for the six o’ clock national news. I pointed it out to her, so therafter upon giving me a very sour look, she reluctantly used it. I was pleased.
The Irish have the habit of saying, ‘I’m ‘after’ doing this and ‘after’ doing that and ‘after’ doing the other thing. I’d hazard a guess that it gets on people’s wick?
Oops, should have read:
It irks me to hear an Irish surname like Mahoney with ‘hon’ sounding like the first stem of Hon(duras), pronounced instead, like ‘hone’ ‘(in on something).
Mine is the why Americans use the word momentarily to mean in a moment rather for a moment.
Another thing I find annoying is when train announcements here in the UK inform you that “this train terminates here”. No it does not. The train service might well be terminating, but I expect the actual train will be used on another service.
The best advice I ever had over word usage and grammar was to follow the rules when they improve clarity and ignore them when they do not. I do not suppose I actually follow that advice consistently, or even that often.
Bad Jim, you obviously are oblivious to the regional accents in the UK and while use a long A, many others don’t. It’s also interesting to hear you think that a Brit saying a word differently to an American is the Brit mispronouncing it. Where do you think English originated?
As for how Obama’s name is pronounced, after Colin Powell made such a cock up of pronouncing his own name, we’ve long since lost any trust in Americans knowing how their own names are meant to be said.
Matt: As a boy I loved to play with my Hornby electric train, and I collected bits and pieces to go with it and the tracks: bridges, tunnels etc. One day in my favourite toy shop I bought a sign to put on the station, which had a rotating roller with various English place names and which had ‘NEXT TRAIN’ in permanent lettering above the slot through which the roller was viewed. So the devotee could make the whole thing read NEXT TRAIN – LONDON or NEXT TRAIN – EDINBURGH, or whatever. But also included was provision for any aberration, and one could rotate the roller so that the sign would read NEXT TRAIN – NOT GOING.
I proudly displayed it to my mother and one of her friends, who straight away pointed out to me its in-built problem.
I suppose I could say that that was my introduction to philosophy.
Hmm, the name “Mahoney” is usually pronounced “Marny” where I live. Not MaHUNNy or MaHONNy or Ma-HONE-ee or anything similar. Am I misunderstanding something?
I second the “lead” for “led” (or “mislead” for “misled”). I’ve noticed “lead” for “led” several times in a book that I’ve just been reading from a reputable academic publisher. Even if the (academic) author concerned isn’t aware of the existence of the word “led”, you’d expect a copyeditor to pick it up. One “lead” slipping through is understandable, but not consistent misspelling of such a simple word.
On split infinitives … I realise that it’s a pretty shonky rule, historically, and I’m known to occasionally split an infinitive. I don’t freak out if an author whose work I’m editing does it. Still, I don’t generally like split infinitives. To my ear, at least, it sounds weak, clumsy, and unnatural to say something like, “Hank McCoy is known to occasionally split an infinitive”, rather than “Hank McCoy is known to split an infinitive occasionally.”
Related to this, I also hate the journalistic construction: “Magneto today won his big fight against Proteus.” I’d always write: “Earlier today, Magneto won his big fight against Proteus.”
[…] of you might find this interesting – over at her Butterflies and Wheels blog, Ophelia Benson spells out a few things about British English and modern usage that really get on her […]
I should really take into consideration the following information in order to understand more fully the lack of ‘th’ thereof regarding the Irish in general.
“There is dental plosive vs dental fricative clarification here concerning the pronunciation of ‘th‘ in the English of people in Ireland”
http://www.irishgaelictranslator.com/translation/topic1604.html
Putting “s” at the end of something to make it a noun for a kind of share. EG: Industrials.
“Said in a statement” Why can’t reporters just say “said”?
African as a substitute for black. I am African, I was born in Africa and hold citizenship in an African country. I am also blond.
“You have to believe in something”: Total cliche with about as much relation to reality as that “something” tends to have.
The misuse of the word “tolerance.” Tolerance does not mean keeping your disagreements silent, it means not forcing others to keep silent about theirs.
And while we are at it, “respect.” “Have respect” is now translated as a nice way of saying “shut the fuck up about how utterly stupid my beliefs are.”
Which is a damn shame because the word used to actually mean something. Now it has gone the way of “hero” or for that matter, “miracle.”
George Mikes, How to be a Brit
Wow, MaRNy sounds even worse than MaHONEy ( think Cone). Yes, MaHUNNy sounds more like the one used in Ireland.
There are two Irish surnames, Mahon, pronounced as, MaAn and Maher as MaR here in Ireland, which also drop the ‘h’s like your MaRNy.
I’m surprised no one has mentioned my pet hate yet, that is the increasing use of “one of the only” in place of “one of the few”. The people who say this obviously have no understanding of language at all, the fact that it is now common amongst TV and radio reporters tells you everything you need to know about that profession.
@Matt Penfold, I work on the railway and you wouldn’t, I’m sure, like our use of the word ‘terminator’ to describe a short journey train, a fellow railwayman friend of mine used to get really annoyed at this as he claimed you should never turn a verb into a noun, I used to argue that it doesn’t matter just to tease !
@ Marie-T O’L. I don’t mind the Irish use of “I’m after” but I wish they wouldn’t say “it is” at the end of everything, as though you doubted it.
The BBC has a webpage entitled ‘How to say: Barack Obama’. It’s here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/magazinemonitor/2007/01/how_to_say_barack_obama.shtml
The usage of “it is” obviously stems from the Gaelic.
———————
“Are you coming home soon?” – “I am.”
“Is your mobile charged?” – “It’s not.
Irish lacks words that directly translate as “yes or “no” and instead repeats the verb in a question, possibly negated, to answer. Hiberno-English uses “yes” and “no” less frequently than other English dialects as speakers can repeat the verb, positively or negatively, instead of (or in redundant addition to) using “yes” or “no”.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiberno-English
———————-
Colin (lol) is CoAlin Powell. Iran (ear-ran) is – I ran – in America. Strange!
Marie-Therese @ #10: It has been said that every Australian has an Irish grandmother. Pretty true for my generation, and spot on in my own case.
Some years ago my wife and I were staying in a village in Western France, in the house of one of her relatives, who also happened to be the local Catholic priest. One morning when they were both out shopping and I was alone in the house, there was a knock on the door. So I opened it, and assumed the man standing there to be one of the local parishioners. So I asked in my impeccable French: “Etes-vous apres Pere Antoine?”
He straight away replied: “You’re Australian, aren’t you?”
It turned out that he taught English in the local high school.
I thought I had asked “are you after Father Antoine? That is, ” do you seek Father Antoine?” Subsequently, a friend who has spent somewhat more time than I living in France explained to me that what I had actually asked was “are you lower in social status than Father Antoine?”
Ah well. It’s the thought that counts.
Why couldn’t the dog have been walking up the hill? In fact, must have done that at some time if he grabbed that guy’s lunch!
Not sure it’s exactly in the right category, but what absolutely drives me mad is ‘of all time’, as in ‘one of the greatest movies of all time.’ They’ve only been making movies for a bit over a century. ‘All time’, I believe, is a bit longer than that.
On accents, though – I’m a bit nonplussed that anyone can complain about how other people pronounce things. Names, I get. When will Americans stop putting the accent on the last syllable of Sade – the singer, I mean, not the Marquis. But just how people say words? Seems a bit harsh.
I’m glad there are no mistakes, since my ‘r’ is often missing, and in fact it is difficult to say the ‘r’ in ‘are’, for example. The word ‘clerk’ must be pronounced ‘claak’ unless one wants to screw up one’s mouth in an awkward way. As for Barack, I would have continued to pronounce it Baa-rack, if I hadn’t just been told, since for it to sound like Barrack it would need two ‘r’s. And as for ‘lead’ for ‘led’, I cannot understand why this mistake is so often made, but it is almost universal, and it throws me every time. And I do dislike split infinitives. They are occasionally effective – as no less an authority than Fowler noticed – but usually they sound simply careless, and English is usually more elegant when they are avoided. I date the widespread use of split infinitives to the rash of computer manuals, during that brief period when they were issued with software. (I still have a shelf full, for DOS, Pagemaker, Photoshop, etc.) That may not be when it happened, but that’s when I noticed it, and I found it – still find it – very annoying. But Ophelia, you would not like my ‘r’s! It’s not so easy as you may think to sound those ‘r’s, so it’s just as well you can only read my words, not hear me speak.
To me, the interesting point is that so many people do have these pet language peeves. I presume they are sometimes ‘Us and Them’ markers (eg, whether you pronounce a t in ‘often’). Or sometimes “I had this (mad) ‘rule’ dinned into me at school and I can’t bear to be told it’s just a mindless peeve.”
My own pet peeve is the ungrammatical and mistaken label ‘split infinitive’. In English, the infinitive of ‘say’ is ‘say’. It frequently occurs thus, eg ‘I dare say’, ‘You might say’, ‘I heard him say’. In many contexts, the infinite is preceded by a (nowadays meaningless) particle ‘to’. (This is a survival of a dative form in Anglo-Saxon.) One or more self-appointed stylists (though I have never seen a definitive identification of the original culprits) invented, from nowhere, a mad ‘rule’ that it’s unstylish to put an adverb between this ‘to’ and a following infinitive. This was and is against natural English rhythms. ‘They always blunder’, not ‘they blunder always’. Likewise, to always blunder. He walks fast, not he fast walks. Likewise, to walk fast.
Incidentally, as far as I know, people don’t make ‘mistakes’ like ‘he fast walks’, though I bet most of them can’t say what the (complicated) real rules are about the placing of adverbs in English. Indeed, I offer the rule that if a rule about language usage is widely known, that usage is uncertain and probably changing.
My second pet peeve is the mindlessly recycled legend that a ‘reason’ for objecting to ‘to boldly go’ is that the one Latin word ‘ire’ is, in some contexts, rendered by ‘to go’ in English. No source is ever quoted in which any self-appointed grammarian argued on these lines. It would, of course, have been completely mad. Latin ‘eo’ is, similarly, equivalent to ‘I go’. That tells us precisely nothing about whether ‘I never go …’ is stylish in English. Conversely, Res Romana Publica was possible in Latin. It would never follow that Re French Public is possible in English.
There are two current developments which I find strange, and I’d like to know what’s driving them. ‘For Carol and I’ and ‘He told John and I’ are now becoming standard (by analogy with the long frequent ‘between you and I’?) And ‘for we journalists’ is also, I think, now the standard form. (Because ‘we-journalists’ is felt to be invariable? or because ‘us journalists’ is somehow felt to be deprecatory of journalists??)
Oh, I’m delighted – a thread where it’s OK to complain about a pet hate in British pronunciation! This is a rare thing, ya know. Disclaimer: I complain about horrible American regional pronunciations all the time, my Brit friends, so please indulge me this small treat.
Hate, hate, hate the increasingly common inability to pronounce the letter ‘l’, pronouncing it instead as if it were a ‘w’. I hear this more and more on the BBC World Service, and not just from the woman on the street being interviewed. Also from the announcers and reporters.
Examples:
“She said she wasn’t sure how she fewt about the new legislation.”
“This year’s Wowd Cup was . . .”
“Reporting from this year’s Cannes Fiwm Festival, I’m thus-and-such.”
It’s everywhere, and it drives me batshit crazy. It sounds like the speaker’s mouth has been anesthetized. It also strikes me (and I could be way, way wrong) in some cases as a deliberate affectation on the part of news announcers to sound more…working class/ordinary man on the street.
Hate also – “Different to.” I realize this is common, but is it considered the preferred construction (and by that I mean, yes, the one preferred by usage experts. Yes, I’m privileging prescriptivists out of of choice, and do not need to be lectured about that.:))
And as for ‘lead’ for ‘led’, I cannot understand why this mistake is so often made,…
Eric, I think this has something to do with it
Read/ri:d Read/red [no spelling change]
Lead/led (metal)
_____
Josh,
That sounds like Estuary English, which is indeed horrible.
One thing which jars on me is the American pronounciation of Nietzsche as Knee-chee. Makes him sound like a Tellytubby.
I’m not entirely certain that this particular pet peeve of mine fits into the discussion, but I’ve long marveled at the inability of my fellow Americans to properly differentiate (hah!) “its” (possessive case) from “it’s” (contracted form of “it is”).
Another annoyance is the improper assignment of number, as in “Neither this not that have any effect.” No. Neither this nor that HAS any effect.
Pronunciations actually don’t bother me that much but spellings really do. You’re, your, there, their and they’re! Incorrect use of these words drives me to distraction, as do apostrophes that shouldn’t be there. I saw a sign recently advertising ‘Flat’s To Let’.
I think you are mistaken, Josh. Many dialects of English have two allophones of /l/: a ‘clear’ l at the onset of syllables, eg in ‘led’ (or ‘lead’); and a velarized l elsewhere, eg in fall. This velarized l is not, in any English speaker I have heard, the same as the w sound. In some dialects (eg Australian) the velarised l is also heard at the start of syllables. But there is still a distinction between led and wed. In contrast, in Polish, velarised l (written ł) has fused with w. But this seems unlikely to occur in English, because there are so many pairs like wed and led.
The only ‘usage experts’ on different to/from/than/against/with/unto would be people who have done counts in identified corpuses of English text. Time may, or may not, establish a preferred usage. The OED comments as follows:
There is, of course, no reason for ‘considering’ any of these usages to be ‘incorrect’.
The apostrophe shouldnt be there in ‘man’s’, either, because nothing has been omitted. The OED explains:
In my opinion, written English would be improved by the complete abolition of this irritating diacritic. If you cant distinguish between cant and cant, how do you manage to distinguish between lead (the metal) and lead (being in front)?
Well I declare, from the title I could have sworn this was going to be about speech acts.
Pete Moulton:
One problem is the bizarre idea that it’s wrong to spell the possessive as “it’s”. (If I can refer to my car as it, why can’t I refer to my car’s color as it’s color?) The idea that dropping the apostrophe is allowed is okay by me—it’s just data compression on a frequently-spelled word; the idea that it’s obligatory is ridiculous. (It seems analogous to requiring the use of contractions, e.g., not allowing you to say “has not,” because there’s “hasn’t.”)
Hmmm… how about those annoying Brits, who often use a grammatically singular collective noun—e.g., “army” or “government”—with plural verbs, e.g., “the government have announced new regulations,” “Oliver’s army are on their way,” etc. (I notice that sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t—e.g., Elvis Costello says “Oliver’s army are on their way” and “Oliver’s army is here to stay” in the same verse. Is there a subtle rule I’m missing about what counts as number agreement in British “English”? Or is BSE a bigger problem than I realized?)
Clive – sure, it’s harsh. This is kind of a weekend go ahead and be unreasonable thread. It’s totally unfair.
Here’s some compensation for you. I’m a Murkan so I pronounce “butter” all wrong – I call it budder. Better is bedder, and so on. I can’t not do that, because pronouncing the Ts as Ts would just sound and feel hopelessly affected. So feel free to point and mock.
Josh – I hadn’t noticed the dark L (as I think linguists call it) until I read a Paul Theroux novel in which a woman (American I think) teases her lover for saying horriboo. After that I noticed it a lot.
Well we make up for it by pronouncing Porsche as Porsh.
She could! But one can’t tell which of them was walking up the hill, and that’s the problem.
Wise guy.
@ Paul W: According to that charming and idiosyncratic prescriptivist H W Fowler (Modern English Usage, OUP, 1926, NUMBER, 6):
On collective nouns, I’ve always understood that as rule of thumb you use the plural or singular depending on whether you are emphasising the individuals within the group or the corporate nature.
Manchester United were rubbish on Saturday. (Every member of the team)
Manchester United is worth £xmillion. (As a corprate group.)
The battalion were downhearted. (As individuals)
The battalion was retreating. (As a single entity)
The crew were mutinous.
The crew was mustered on deck.
Oh, indeed, Ophelia, I will mock! ‘Budder’, I’m afraid, does sound terribly down market. It should be prounounced ‘buttah’, of course, everyone knows that! The reason for the ‘d’s is simply the urge to pronounce that last, silent ‘r’.
If find it grating to hear At this point to be followed by in time.
Constructions like “Barack Obama may be president of the United States, but…”. Last I checked the consensus was that he is definitely the president.
If we’re going to get into pronunciation, I nominate non-Canadian pronunciations of Saskatchewan.
Oh, this is fun!
My pet hates:
BBC presenters saying ‘gonna’ instead of ‘going to’; ‘sickth’ instead of ‘sixth’; ‘One in ten are in poverty’ instead of ‘One in ten is…’
And apologies to all you Americans, but I don’t like: ‘Get off of the bus.’
Its (possesive pronoun) is justified written without the apostrophe because we don’t write: her’s, your’s and their’s (well, I hope not!)
John (@44) I second your nomination but raise you most names based on the original First Nations words. It seems to me most translations into English or French tried to do so with as few vowels as possible: as merely one example, check out the city of Nanaimo (na-Nai-mo): Snuneymuxw.
‘errbs for herbs. Do Americans turn into Cockneys when you give them marjoram or thyme?
Marie-Therese – I t’hink that most British find the Irish way of pronouncing “th” as rather attractive, and t’hey generally like t’he Sout’hern Irish accent. I do hate though the way the souf English inability to pronounce “th” is spreading so you get “wif” and “vese” for “with” and “these”. Isn’t that “th” consonant rare in other languages and one that foreigners find hard to master, and so say “wiz” and “zese”? I’d hate to lose it in English. However, Americans, Canadians, New Zealanders and Australians still use it.
And how about this all-too-common error:
‘He should of thought of that before.’
And this supersonic clanger from Nick Clegg:
‘Myself, Vince Cable and David Cameron will be discussing the matter next week.’
I do not think (though I stand to be corrected, of course) that the expression ‘at this point in time’ was in common use until John Dean’s testimony at the Watergate hearings. He used it every other sentence, and it stuck.
Well, I’m going to run with the pronunciation thing and mention that my mother and her siblings often throw in an extra “r” where it doesn’t belong, i.e. “WaRshington state” and “I’m going to waRsh the dishes now”. They all grew up in the midwest, and I’m almost certain that it’s a regional dialect issue. I’ve heard the “WaRshington” thing my entire life (most of us live in Washington state), yet it still grates on my nerves every time.
Diane, not all we Americans say “off of” – I hate it too!
“Myself” for me or I – I detest that. I find Anthony Powell unreadable because he does it all the time. (I do know his name is not pronounced Powell though.)
Oh and that reminds me of Colin Powell, mentioned above – I read or heard somewhere that he does pronounce it the usual way at home, but Murkans always got it wrong so he simply went with it. I flatly refuse to pronounce it like colon. The guy’s name is Collin. Coll’n. Not colon.
WaRshington as middle-western – that’s a new one to me. I thought it was Boston.
I could be wrong about it being a regional dialect thing. I’m not sure how else to explain it, though. It’s a bit confusing.
On a related note: for anyone who is interested in regional American dialects and accents, this PBS site
is a fantastic and very informative resource.
As for “at this point in time” – one redundancy that is really popular in UK speak is the “in a unit of time’s time” item. In an hour’s time, in a year’s time. BBC presenters and reporters are addicted to it. It’s soooooo stupid. In an hour’s what else, you clots?
KB Player
Vese?!
F for th – initial, medial, and final.
V for th – never initial.
_____
At least in the US you are spared the BBC’s collective decision to change the meaning of the word “next”, e.g. “next on BBC2 Top Gear, but now Dr Who”. If you’re about to broadcast Dr Who, then that is what is on next goddamit.
Kids are baby goats. Young humans are children.
“Whether” implies “or not”.
I try not to be a grammar Nazi, but go to:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1935115
I think ‘in an hour’s time’ (or other time unit, e.g., ‘in ten minute’s time’) is quite common in Canada too. It does not sound unfamiliar. Certainly, here on the East Coast.
Diane Rooney:
<blockquote>Its (possesive pronoun) is justified written without the apostrophe because we don’t write: her’s, your’s and their’s (well, I hope not!)</blockquote
Some of these words are not like the others. Yours and theirs don’t sound like you’s and them’s. They’re different words, so it’s more reasonable to unique spellings for them.
Its and hers mean the same thing as it’s and her’s (if we allow regular possessivization applied to pronouns), and they’re still pronounced the same. The other pronouns are already more irregular before we get around to spelling, so it’s reasonable to have an irregular spelling too. It and her work like other nouns in this context—we <i>say</i> it’s and her’s in the same way that we say the car’s or Ophelia’s, so it’s reasonable to spell them the way we say them.
Native speakers learn pronoun irregularities before they learn to spell. They may also learn the regularities—that possessive it and her don’t need a special rule. It’d guess that the difficulty many people have with the spelling of “its” and to some extent “hers” is because the spelling rule doesn’t work like the language actually works.
IMHO it’s prescriptivist nonsense to expect people to be thinking “pronouns are irregular” when they intuitively know that the pronoun they’re using is regular in that regard. They’re thinking about “it” and “her,” not pronouns generally, so it’s utterly reasonable that they’d apply the regular written version of the regular verbal pluralization that they apply automatically, rather than treating them irregularly because some other words are irregular.
“Period of time” – is that in contradistinction to period of inside leg? – punctuation? – menstruation?
_____
Nicholas and Don, thanks. That’s pretty much what I’d intuited. And despite my snark, I actually like it—that’s how it should work, IMHO. Too bad people around here would look at me funny if I said things that way.
I was wondering whether that flexibility is related to the issue of whether “either” phrases could reasonably be treated as singular or plural, depending on context and meaning, but I haven’t thought it through.
tildeb, compare now to “at this time” and “at this point in time.” It seem to me that there’s a similar difference in emphasis—“at this point in time” encourages the listener to consider this time as just one among many along a long line, i.e., to take a long view.
Unfortunately, it often gets used habitually, and ends up as simple padding, defeating that purpose.
On the subject of time, one that annoys me is “at this moment in time”. Either say at this moment, or at this time but not both.
I have tried all my adult life to stop pronouncing ‘world’ as ‘wewd’. It’s bloody hard. All you haters should think about that some time, before you indulge in your anti-Anglosaxonism. These are real peepew wiv real lives you’re torkin abaht. Doth not a chav bleed?
Quite.
Another annoying redundancy is “reason why.” It’s everywhere.
Matt Penfold:
It’s not redundant in that way—“time” there doesn’t refer to a moment (a particular time), but to a continuum (time). So it’s like “at this point in time,” which I argue could be useful but usually isn’t.
Blame Tennyson.
That’s a silly example. Would you say “ten percent is in poverty”? The “one” isn’t just one, but – if we’re talking Britain – something like 6 million.
Also: ARRGLE! RARRGLE! BLARRGLE!
Tennyson was framed. He was using the verb “reason”, not the noun.
Tourists say, ‘will you please direct me to the train for Galway’ using the first syllable gal, as in guy, as opposed to Gal in ball. It peeves me so it does.
The Irish say pewgeot for peugeot and the British say pergeot, which I like to hear.
Ian, from which part of the old soil did she hail? She must have gone out there when it cost only ten shillings? Lots of people took advantage of the opportunity, as however else could they afford to go to the other end of the world.
I’ve only ever encountered Australians, from a distance, in the past, when I went to visit a friend in Earls Court, London. The area was then called Aussieland. I’m clueless as to whether they still go there when leaving Down Under for British shores.
Yes, KB, t’he Sout’hern Irish accent is also very popular with the British TV. Gráinne Seoige, from Galway (ball) being its latest import.
Don, I’ve pasted your post, as I’ve always wondered about the correct usuage.
I think there is a need for split infinitives; consider the possible differences between (among?):
(1) He likes only to paint flowers. [he doesn’t like photographing flowers, painting trees, eating sushi, reading blogs, exercising, etc.]
(2) He likes to paint only flowers. [not trees, bushes, nudes, landscapes, etc.]
(3) He likes to only paint flowers. [not photograph them, pick them, eat them, etc.]
Admittedly, these could themselves be ambiguous, depending on emphasis or tone….
And about “towing the line”; this has a use in the context of people manually towing a small barge down a canal with ropes from the side of the canal — a steadfast singleminded task, metaphorically like steadfastly adhering to an ideological party line, which is also one of the senses in which “toeing the line” is used. Hence we have a case of two homonymous phrases coinciding in one of their metaphorical senses.
And about prescriptivism vs. descriptivism: I think at least a modest prescriptivism is essential if we want our great great-grandchildren to be able read and understand our Nachlass. My students already have enough trouble reading Mill.
Karl Pfeifer
Hmmmmmm. Now that one I see as just an idiom. It means “Yes Obama is the president but…”
So then the question becomes how does one distinguish between an idiom and a contradictory bit of nonsense?
Karl – quite – that was my main point. As an editor, and for that matter as a writer, I have to be somewhat prescriptivist. As a reader, I want other editors and writers to be somewhat prescriptivist. People who teach have to be somewhat prescriptivist. It can’t be helped.
Hmm. Another interesting inconsistency is objecting to ‘the reason why the seven stars are no more than seven”, and “20000 Cornishmen will know the reason why”, but not (I assume) to ‘a time when’ or ‘a place where’.
Ian, I think you’re haunted by the poor man!
I see what you mean when you press the case to the extreme in your example. “To more boldly go than any other man” is awkward and intolerable. But that’s not because it splits the “to” from the bare infinitive. Rather, it’s awkward because it seems to relate to the subject of the sentence in a way that the usual Star Trek tagline doesn’t. (To go “more boldly” is relative to the class of other men; to “boldly go” implies nothing about the boldness of the other men.) And the more complicated the logical relationships in the sentence, the more you have to rely on stylistic and syntactic conventions to help people parse.
I don’t know if that generalizes. But clearly there are cases where the split infinitive is acceptable, and even superior to other ways of phrasing, as in the Star Trek tagline.
I should say, that’s not JUST because it splits the “to” from the bare infinitive. The problem is that it’s a split infinitive without any rhyme or reason.
Nicholas Lawrence (#28)
From what I’ve heard, it wasn’t from nowhere; it was from the notion that Latin grammar is superior to English grammar even when speaking or writing English. Since you can’t split a Latin infinitive, you shouldn’t do it in English. Same as the ending something with a preposition nonsense. And if Robert Lowth didn’t invent either of those, he was responsible for much of their popularization.
Simple overcorrection. Get yelled at too many times for using a me in “me and mum are going to the store” and you start changing out your me’s where they’re perfectly correct. (Not that I think there’s anything wrong with my example there, either, but pedants will be pedants.)
“The reason why the seven stars are no more than seven” is the Fool talking, the Fool speaks demotic, Shakespeare matches the word to the thought and the thought to the action and the idiolect to the character. So there!
Besides, I’m sure I’ve said it myself a billion times, it’s a meme, but I avoid it in formal and/or argumentative writing.
Hi A. Noyd! [waves violently] It was nice meeting you on Tuesday.
@Karl Pfeifer:
I don’t believe it. Can you point to an example of that use? A horse (usually) or humans (rarely) towed or hauled the boat, by a rope or warp. I’ve never come across them ‘towing the line’. Neither Google nor the OED has an example of ‘tow the line’ in your claimed (or any other) sense.
Why only our Nachlass? What about stuff published while we were still alive? But I agree with Ophelia: this is the key issue: do we want to slow down changes in our language? It’s odd that we worry so much about that now. Widespread literacy, and standard-setters like the BBC, ensure that change in English is currently much slower than it has ever been. Consider the changes from Beowulf to Chaucer, and from Chaucer to Shakespeare. And remember that Chaucer and Shakespeare are still read now precisely because they were innovators in English usage.
No you don’t. You have to be clear and vivid (which you are, abundantly).
Yes. Thats nothing to do with the infinitive. Its because than has to be near the comparative it refers to. I often eat fish, and its healthy to often eat fish, but (maybe) you eat fish more often than I do.
But that involves (implicit) prescriptivism. I have to be prescriptivist about my own writing. I break lots of putative rules, but I’m immensely prescriptivist about my own writing all the same. You can’t write well if you have no rules at all.
@A Noyd:
Since you can’t split a Latin infinitive, you shouldn’t do it in English. Same as the ending something with a preposition nonsense.
Sigh. As I wrote in #28,
(a) no source is ever cited in which anyone pretended to justify the nothing-between-to-and-an-infinitive ‘rule’ from Latin
(b) if they had, it would have been obvious nonsense.
Moreover, ‘pax vobiscum’ (peace [be] you with) is perfectly good Latin.
Get yelled at too many times for using a me in “me and mum are going to the store” and you start changing out your me’s where they’re perfectly correct.
Cant be the only explanation. ‘Between you and I’ was in use long before children were yelled at for ‘me and mum are going to the store’. My own guess that in English (as in French) there is a tendency to want a ‘stronger’ pronoun near ‘and’. Maman et je is not French; usage is maman et moi. English speakers similarly use me, pronounced meee, different from he saw me, pronounced mi [like the onset of miss]
Oops.
or I, or myself.
Agreed. But, I think, this misses the point. All known human languages have complex rules. Native speakers do not make mistakes about them, and (usually) do not know what they are. For example, without stopping to work it out, can you say how questions are formulated in (current) English? Its a nightmare for people learning English as a foreign language:
Did you go swimming today? Not *Swam you today?
Do you take sugar? Not *Take you sugar?
Can you swim? Not *Do you can swim?
Is she swimming? Not *Does she be swimming?
The task of serious grammarians is to establish and explain these real rules. The practice of prescriptivists is to invent bogus rules based sometimes on nothing at all (eg the ‘split infinitive’ nonsense), or on the assumption that what their parents said is ‘right’ and what their children say is ‘wrong’. (Eg the weird and unsuccessful attempt to restrict ‘disinterested’, ie ‘not interested’, to ‘not interested for the sake of personal advantage’, when more precise words such as unbiased or altruistic or dispassionate are available for that.)
Theres lots of writing which breaks none of the real rules, and none of the invented ones, but is soggy and damnable.
I think ‘toe the line’ is the right expression, and not ‘tow’.
I don’t speak any of the other Teutonic languages, but I understand that it is possible to end sentences with prepositions when doing so. Furthermore, I understand that it was done routinely in Anglo Saxon/Old English. The habit of doing so was established among native speakers of English well before 1066 and no 18th century Latinist is likely to change it.
What I don’t understand is why the English seem incapable of pronouncing Spanish words correctly. I know they defeated the Armada but it just seems perverse. Many of them seem to make a great effort to pronounce French or German words correctly.
I’m English and I can pronounce Spanish words correctly, but that’s because I speak the lingo.
If you can’t end a sentence with a preposition what else can you end it with?
Re the problems with I, me, myself, I work for corporate lawyers who write with precision and have grammar and proscriptive English usage dinned into them. But they do say, “That meeting you and Suzy had with Carl and I.” They know that you wouldn’t say, “That meeting you and Suzy had with I” and will work it out logically that “me” should be used, but they still do it. They will then fall back on “That meeting you and Suzy had with Carl and myself.” As someone says up in the thread (it’s getting too long for comfort), having been told it’s wrong to say “Carl and me went to the shops” the “me” flashes warning lights at them and they can’t use it naturally.
Heard this on the television last night:
‘Please give him Brenda and I’s regards.’
Wonder if that’s Old (Saxon) English?
As for “toeing the line” in my school days we were assembled behind a white line painted on the ground and told to “toe the line”, i.e. place our toes exactly at the edge of that line, so I have done literally what others have only done metaphorically.
Now, when do I get to “sort the men from the boys”?
Thread getting too long is it? Maybe I’ll do a part 2.
The Spanish rolling ‘R’ (or trilled ‘R’) is a difficult one to master. French is very nasal and is ghastly to hear most English speaking people speaking it, all the romanticism of the language goes out the window. Mind you, those of the latter who seriously study and frequently visit France are the exception. Guttural German sounds come naturally to Gaelic -speaking people. The (“Schwyzerdüütsch”) Swiss-German speaking part of Switzerland is infamous for its very guttural sounds.
Miranda,
I’m from SW Nebraska and the waRsh for wash is fairly common among older people in the high plains. I always found it odd that there seems to be an age cutoff for it as though something (TV maybe?) came along and corrected it part way through the baby boom.
This explanation is often trotted out, but no-one ever cites any evidence for it. It can’t be that simple. In many languages (eg French, Greek), you don’t use the ordinary pronouns (in French, je and me, both pronounced with a schwa) after the word for ‘and’. But people I know who say ‘the meeting with Carl and I’ also say ‘and me’, pronounced mee, in the context ‘Whos coming to the bar?’ ‘Me.’ ‘And me.’ As far as I know, no-one (yet?) says ‘And I’ in that context.
A possible explanation is that phrases like ‘Carl and I’ are now perceived by some (or most?) English speakers as invariable. If so, maybe our great-grandchildren will abandon ‘me’ altogether, which would be a welcome simplification. After all, no-one misses the ye/you distinction. Better still, our children might abandon the mad convention that I is written I, not i.
That does, perhaps, support my theory that English speakers are adopting ‘Brenda-and-I’ as invariable. I don’t know what the ‘correct’ usage is. ‘Please give him Brendas and my regards’ sounds odd to me. But then, I think the whole concept of ‘regards’ is naff!
Ophelia Benson (#78)
Likewise! And now that I know your site is much more user-friendly, you’ll probably see me here from time to time as well.
Well, for the “I” and “me”, I do remember older sisters who had been longer at school correcting “Michael and me were playing in the barn” to “You mean Michael and I” in superior tones. I think education may have something to do with this – after all, it was by seeing how some words were spelled that changed the pronunciation of them (“waistcoat” comes to mind, but there are better examples). It’s part social snobbery isn’t it? “Between you and I” is intolerably genteel.
[…] Part I of this is getting long, so I might as well start another. […]
Nicholas Lawrence (#81)
Well, I got it from John McWhorther in Word on the Street who points to Robert Lowth’s A Short Introduction to English Grammar and Lindley Murray’s English Grammar but doesn’t provide any quotes. (If my mother wasn’t borrowing the relevant Bill Bryson books, I’d check there, too.) Alas, I can’t even find where either Lowth or Murray talk about how to use adverbs with infinitives in their books, much less whether they give any justification, so the story might be made up. However, I don’t think that “obvious nonsense” is necessarily fatal to itself, especially when built around an appeal to tradition.
That may be, but you were wondering about it becoming standard. I hear plenty of people use “me and so-and-so” as an object before self-consciously changing it to “so-and-so and I.” My guess is people learn the rule for the subjective case without learning why it’s preferred, and thus don’t know that the same prescriptivist logic should prevent them from extending the rule for subjects onto objects. In the absence of any explanation, they generalize. Hearing other people generalize and encountering idioms such as “between you and I” then perpetuate the overcorrection.
(#83)
On top of that, in pretending dialects don’t exist or are merely corruptions of “proper” English, we end up calling a lot of the legitimate grammar of other dialects “mistakes.”
Marie Therese @ #69: My great-grandmother was Mary-Ann Connor from County Cork. She left Ireland with her husband and children to escape the Famine, and settled in a mainly Irish community in New Zealand. Mary-Ann had 11 children in all, 10 of whom died in infancy or childhood, mainly from TB. My grandmother Alice was the sole survivor, and she in turn emigrated from NZ to Australia.
Even at the age of 93 she still had the brogue.
How about “anyways” versus anyway?
Hate that. Also hate “alls you do is turn left at the…”
I’m a terrible prescriptivist. I hate all sorts of things. I’m a gnu prescriptivist.
Damn it, Nicholas:
OK, I hate this. I am not “mistaken.” I’m observing those different dialects, and I’m making an aesthetic judgment. I don’t like that pronunciation. It grates on me. I’m allowed to not like it, and I’m not “incorrect” for not liking it. It’s an opinion, and I’m entitled to it.
And again:
And just where do you get the idea that I posited some sort of Platonic Essence of Correct? What is it with you descriptivists? Why do you insist on telling those of us that have a preference that “there’s no such thing as correct or incorrect; it’s all about how people actually use it,” as if we don’t know that? It really irks me that descriptivists consistently conflate matters of aesthetic judgment with correctness, putting arguments in other peoples’ mouths, then lecturing them on how they’re “wrong.” For a group of people who spend their time telling others there’s no such thing as wrong, descriptivists sure do love them some lecturing about how others are wrong.
Shorter: we get to have aesthetic opinions about what sounds melodious or dissonant to us. You don’t get to tell us those opinions are “wrong.”
I’m sorry to sound short, but this tendency among descriptivists is extremely obnoxious.
Hahahahahaha – I hadn’t noticed that before, Josh, and you’re right. That’s very funny.
I’ve just been lecturing Nicholas for taking me so literally on the Part II thread. He does love him some lecturing. It’s really ok that I say budder. Nooooooooooo kidding. :- )
And to be fair, I hate the awful parochial accent I grew up with. Hated it so much I consciously worked to get rid of it when I got to college, because (yes, this is extremely bourgeois, but nonetheless true for it) it was a class marker. A sign of, well, parochial, cowtown upbringing, and I didn’t (and don’t) want to convey that impression.
I had the Upstate New York/Michigan/Ohio accent. Nasal as all hell. Examples:
“Oh my geeyyaaaaaaaaaad!” – pronounced as in “gadfly,” but worse.
“Can you pass me a piece of that eeayyyapple pie?”
“I’ll have reeeyyaaaaanch dressing for my siiyaaaalid.”
No, there’s nothing “incorrect” about that pronunciation. But it does sound “street.” It smacks of someone who’s never ventured beyond the confines of where he grew up. It sounds like a person who’s never traveled, never been near anything cosmopolitan. Almost all extremely pronounced regional accents strike me this way (NB Nicholas – this is just another opinion, nothing more). We may argue over whether it’s “right” or savory that regional dialects have ugly class connotations, but the fact is that they do, whether or not that’s ethically troublesome.
So, I worked to develop a neutral American accent, sort of a newscaster amalgam. And yes, it was a conscious class-climbing move on my part, and I don’t regret it. My friends tell me the old pronunciation comes out when I get a little too tipsy:)
Sorry, Josh. I completely agree (0f course) that you are entitled to dislike some people’s pronunciation of (for example) film. But I still think you are mistaken if you perceive them as pronouncing the l in film the same as the w in wind.
And I’m sorry I over-reacted to Ophelia’s light-hearted remarks about budder.
Nicholas Lawrence:
Then just turn on the Beeb one night.
What is with you? Do you not hear it? They do (those I’m referring to) pronounce it as if it were spelled “fiwm.” Are you just listening to a different broadcast? Or, are you being deliberately contrary? This isn’t in controversy, Nicholas; there really is such a pronunciation, and it’s not just my personal, subjective “perceiving them” as saying it. Anyone with an ear can can hear it.
So, what the hell are you on about?
Ian, @ 99
That is such a sad story about your great grandmother, Mary-Anne. To think that she went all the way to NZ to escape hardship of the famine and then suffered horrendously with the loss of almost all her children.
But there is also an upside, as it is now surely amazing to hear that she was blessed with not only longevity, but one child, of whose one offspring, in the guise of yourself, is now fit to tell the famine tale at B&W.
The Cork accent is very strong indeed and it’s unsurprising to hear that your great-grandmother never lost it at all. Corkonians are noted for having a pure lilt in their voices. I love the Cork accent, it is so homely. A lot of American & European celebrities have summer houses in Cork. The Golden Vale area is the envy of Irish farmers, who hail from town-lands, where the land is not considered good. Thanks for sharing your Irish genealogical history, Ian. It is so typical of innumerable Irish who were forced through immense poverty to leave their homeland. I know a chap in Dublin, who devotes his life to seeing that we do not forget the famine. He lobbies the government all the time and is tireless in his pursuit to see that it gets the recognition it justifiably deserves.
Pax, Josh, please! We are needlessly arguing about a minute technicality. I accept your word for it that you have heard some people pronounce film as fiwm. I haven’t, and I think such a pronunciation is rare in the UK. However a pronunciation of film using the so-called ‘dark l’ is common. This ‘dark l’ is very different from the ‘clear l’ the same people use in, for example, like,and it is also different from (but similar to) the w they use in wed. You can hear both in, for example, little. I have never heard anyone pronounce little the same as they pronounce whittle. (And please let’s not get started on the difference between English and Scottish wh.)
Ophelia: If “Barack Obama may be the president etc.” merely means ““Yes Obama is the president but…”, then why not say ““Yes Obama is the president but…”? Or “although barack Obama is the president.” There’s no need for an idiom that is less clear than the alternatives to it. You are proud to be a prescriptivist — then BE a prescriptivist.
Marie-Therese @ #108: Thanks for that.
After arriving in Australia my grandmother Alice met and married an itinerant native-born stockman named Richard Martin. Richard’s father used to tell all and sundry that he had been captain of a square-rigged sailing ship, but just as likely his maritime experience had been in the hold of one as a guest of His Majesty.
One of my favourite songs at the moment is ‘The Fields of Athenry’ by Pete St John, which is set in the Famine and deals with some of the human consequence of it. I understand that it is very popular with Irish football fans and was on top of the Irish charts for about a year. So I would say folk-memory of the Famine is very much alive.
Crop failures were only part of it. According to my reading, all through the Famine years Ireland was a net exporter of food.
Just a thought but this is something that really winds me up….
The language is called the “English” language for good reason, after many, many years of Americans, Australians, etc. bastardising my beautiful mother tongue I get irritated and a little defensive when American commentators decide to have a dig at the way we English speak OUR language.
That’s right it’s OUR language, you’re borrowing it and mangling it in the process so don’t be so ready to have a go at others.
I quite agree there are some regional accents in this country which are absolutely appalling but compared to the Australian upwards inflection or the American drawl, Scouse (Liverpool accent) sounds like honey so leave us alone!
Josh – about those parochial drawn-out vowels – a college friend of mine once told me a touching (but mostly hilarious) story about moving from somewhere to somewhere – one of the somewheres was Rockport Illinois, but I forget if it was the departure or the destination – as a child and being asked a question in class and beginning with “Wayyyullll” only to be interrupted by a gale of shaming laughter from the entire class.
Chris no it’s OUR language because there are more of us than there are of you so HA!
Ok speaking of Ls…Nicholas, you probably know: is there a special New York L that is pronounced very far forward so that it’s extra light or thin – and sounds odd and prissy to others?
This isn’t just me – it was a joke once on “Friends” – one of the times Rachel and Ross were battling, and Ross exclaimed “I was asleep!” – Rachel mockingly echoed the way he said “asleep” – with that prissy-sounding L. You know the one I mean? Does it have a name? Who uses it?
The one other person I know of who uses it is Terri Gross. It kind of drives me nuts. But then she has so many affectations of that kind, my threshold is drastically lowered for her.
Actually, Ophelia, there’s more of US than there is of YOU, so there!
BTW, I can’t begin to explain how happy I am to hear you, of all people, quoting Friends. I’m in love!
Couldn’t agree more on the dangling prepositions. Now, I have attuned myself to pick up on them whenever I write one, and then I go back and think how it would sound if I “fixed” it. Sometimes it turns out to be clearer or more natural, so I switch it. If it doesn’t, I leave it.
I’ll admit I have a slight bias towards rearranging (the “for which”) if I think both are equally clear. But yeah, the point is clarity more than anything else.
Ophelia,
As much as I hate to say it you show rather some ignorance in your response. The English language is so called with very good reason, and in fact I would argue that the American use of language is so backward and bastardised that it is no longer the same language I speak. In fact I can’t even type the word bastardised, spelt correctly without this stupid “American English” spellchecker trying to correct me.
We invented the language, the tongue of Blake, Wordsworth and Shakespeare. It is a beautiful language, nurtured in England, and then shipped out to the colonials, yes, that would be you, COLONIALS.
Shut your face and leave MY fucking language alone!
Thank you Kindly
:-)
@ Ian #111
Aye, most probably your great grandfather was sent off to Van Demons’ land for some minor misdemeanour or because of having looking crooked at his boss. Or some such ridiculous thing of that nature. Life was terribly cruel. Well, being a male Granuaille kind of figure maybe helped save his mental bacon.
That folk-song is also an old favourite of mine. I know it off by heart. I used to play (and sing) it regularly on a Martin guitar (smuggled in from America) until the latter was stolen from the boot of a car. Paddy Reilly does the definitive version, but he is kind of an old-fashioned singer and not too much to my liking at all, despite his rendition having being very popular in Ireland.
There is an Irish Famine Monument located on Custom House Quay, Dublin, it depicts sculptures of very thin starving people, walking towards the ships on the docks. It was built in memory of those who left for other countries (mostly the USA) in hope of better lives. Ireland was struck with a great famine between 1845-49 when it was hit with potato blight, that destroyed most potatoes in the country. One million people died of starvation or disease caused from lack of food. “To Hell or Connaught” was the adage. Connaught would be the poorest boggy land in Ireland and hence sending them there. Ethnic cleansing, so to speak. BTW, the sculptures have such sad haunted faces that make one instantly cry.
Yes you invented it and then we improved it, the language of Jefferson and Madison, Thoreau and Dickinson, Twain and James. So HA.
And the language of George W Bush, so HA HA.
And of Barack Obama, so HAHAHA.
Still. We go from electing a Bush to electing an Obama. I have no way to explain or excuse this. I surrender.
In his autobiography, Yeats writes that his poem was influenced by his reading of American writer Henry David Thoreau’s Walden(1854), which describes Thoreau’s experiment of living alone in a small hut in the woods on Walden Pond, outside Concord, Massachusetts
Walden contains some of the most brilliant writing I know of. It’s very idiosyncratic, and very eloquent.
The poem influenced by William Butler Yeats was none other than “The Lake Isle of Innisfree”. The Rose being another infamous one.
Emily Dickinson wrote nearly 2,000 short poems and is the greatest female American poet of the nineteenth century. She only published seven poems and was almost unknown as a poet during her lifetime. She is on the Irish school curriculum as well as W. B. Yeats. So that should speak for itself. So too is Margaret Atwood, Arthur Miller, Richard Wilbur, John Steinbeck, Mildred Taylor and plenty more famous American writers.
August 2, 2010 at 11:15 am @ OB #125
Thoreau writes in Walden:
Note how T uses ‘I’ seven times in this short piece, because he probably wants to personalise it and own it. There is also ‘w’ alliteration in the opening line to gently let you flow swiftly through the woods, like water flows to its current. To ‘front’ the ‘facts’ of life, equates with firmness, uprightness as he had made a deliberate decision to go to the woods, he did not go on a whim or because of some ideological reason. He wanted to live the real life.
Well observed.
Notice also the unusual cadence. His writing doesn’t lull you, it wakes you up. And that last sentence…classic Thoreau. The pun in “life is so dear” and the switch of gears – and the interestingness of “I did not wish to live what was not life.” And the suggestiveness of not wanting to practice resignation unless it was quite necessary – ah he’s terrific.
I once memorized a paragraph from Walden…I wonder if I can figure out what it was…
Yup. Found it.
I see young men, my townsmen, whose misfortune it is to have inherited farms, houses, barns, cattle, and farming tools; for these are more easily acquired than got rid of. Better if they had been born in the open pasture and suckled by a wolf, that they might have seen with clearer eyes what field they were called to labor in. Who made them serfs of the soil? Why should they eat their sixty acres, when man is condemned to eat only his peck of dirt? Why should they begin digging their graves as soon as they are born? They have got to live a man’s life, pushing all these things before them, and get on as well as they can. How many a poor immortal soul have I met well-nigh crushed and smothered under its load, creeping down the road of life, pushing before it a barn seventy-five feet by forty, its Augean stables never cleansed, and one hundred acres of land, tillage, mowing, pasture, and woodlot! The portionless, who struggle with no such unnecessary inherited encumbrances, find it labor enough to subdue and cultivate a few cubic feet of flesh.
Uh, Richard Wilbur? <sheepish face>
Damned American education!
–Diane, Michigan
Chris 2112 @ #113 & #119: “…I quite agree there are some regional accents in this country which are absolutely appalling but compared to the Australian upwards inflection or the American drawl, Scouse (Liverpool accent) sounds like honey so leave us alone!”
We are further enlightened by:
“We invented the language, the tongue of Blake, Wordsworth and Shakespeare. It is a beautiful language, nurtured in England, and then shipped out to the colonials, yes, that would be you, COLONIALS.”
Actually old chap, I think you have your history a bit buggered up. The language was not ‘invented’ in England and then shipped out like so many Austin cars (remember them?) there to be learned of, picked up and driven. The people who carried it with them into the colonies had just as much a claim as YOU to be the ‘inventors’. It was a collective, not individual invention, just as it happens, like the Austin car. Every person who has ever used it can rightly claim to be a part of the inventive process.
I can’t speak for Blyke or Werdswerth, but Shykespeere almost certainly spoke with the accent of his native Warwickshire. The closest thing to that on an easily accessible recording is the voice of the inimitable Pam Ayres. Joseph Fiennes played him in ‘Shakespeare in Love’ as speaking with received pronunciation, and his lines have been delivered that way by theatrical greats like Olivier and Richardson over sufficient years to become the ‘correct’ way to do it for the major characters in his plays.
Judith Dench played Queen Elizabeth in the abovementioned film as speaking the received way. Actually, Queen Bess probably spoke with a Cockney accent, and for YOUR words would probably have sent you to the Tower, there to await being hung, drawn and quartered; or worse, being shipped off to America, there to spend the rest of your life in that hellhole of incorrect speech.
As for Old Bill, he would no doubt have had his revenge on you by writing you into one of his plays: say as a sidekick to Nick Bottom in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. Or he might have waxed poetic about you, in the manner he has Falstaff threaten Prince Hal with:
“Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! If I be ta’en, I’ll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.”
@
Nicholas Lawrence
August 1, 2010 at 11:44 am
@Karl Pfeifer
KP:
Wm. F. Switzler, Report of the Internal Commerce of the United States (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1888), p. 28:
They were from HO to 100 tons burden, and were supplied with oars and long blade-like rudders similar to those now used for steering rafts. There were various ways of propelling. the keel-boat, among them rowing, (the system more commonly resorted to), cordelling, warping, bushwacking, towing, and sailing. ”Cordelling” consisted of making a rope fast to the masthead, the crew hauling it over their shoulders on shore, or otherwise towing it. “Warping,” which was resorted to only in very swift currents, consisted of towing a line by means of a small skiff or canoe of the keel-boat and making it fast to the body of a tree close to the bank, the keel-boat end of the line being carried over the shoulders of the crew from forward to aft, the leaders dropping out and falling in behind until the shore-end of the line was reached, when the boat would be held fast until a second line was towed forward and tied to another tree. The first line would be cast off and hauling resumed until slow water was reached. It will be seen, therefore, that navigation by this means was both slow and laborious. “Bushwacking ” was resorted to when running close to banks lined with willows. These were grasped by the crew, each man walking from fore to aft and drawing, the boat forward in much the same manner as by “warping.” The other plans of rowing, sailing, and towing need no explanation.
KP:
That could be included too. “Nachlass” in a narrow legal sense refers to the active and passive assets of an estate; presumably published personal manuscripts to which the deceased had retained copyright would fall at least into the latter category in not the former. True, your sense of “Nachlass” as just being unpublished materials is probably more familiar. But there is an even broader sense which just refers generally to stuff left behind by our predecessors, which can of course also include published-in-their-lifetime works. This last use of “Nachlass” (which I hesitate to call nonliteral since it actually seems more literal) is kind of like our extended use of terms like “heir” or “inherit” when we talk about, e.g., what we have inherited from the ancient Greeks or the traditions that we are heirs to.
Cheers.
Karl
@Karl
Many thanks. I was wrong (on both counts). The Switzler source is particularly interesting.
@OB #116
Yes, I’ve noticed it, and it must have a name, but sorry, I don’t know it.
Nicholas:
Not so fast. The Switzler quote does refer to a rope and various ways of pulling “or otherwise towing it,” but the only literal occurrences of the phrase “towing the line” (or “line was towed”) do not refer to what people claim “tow the line” means. It’s talking about towing a slack line forward to make it fast to something forward of the boat, so that others can pull it taut and use it to tow the boat. It’s not talking about the familiar operation of towing the boat by pulling on a (taut) line.
That’s a description of peculiar operation, not a common term for a familiar activity, suitable for a popular metaphor.
If that was “towing the line,” it’d be a pretty odd thing to say, and wouldn’t mean accepting the common burden.
I’ve still yet to see any evidence that anybody used the phrase “tow the line” to mean towing a boat (or other vehicle) by hauling on a (taut) line.
I’d be surprised if nobody ever did, because that’s the kind of infelicitious thing people occasionally do, but it would be odd and jarring in the same way as talking about “rowing the oar” or “steering the rudder”. People would “get” it, but it wouldn’t have a good ring to it, so people wouldn’t use it to describe something else.
I suspect that “tow the line” came into popular use purely by misunderstanding the more common phrase “toe the line,” and imagining a clumsy false etymology.
@ Diane G #130
Richard Wilbur uses figurative language and extended metaphors to reveal the theme of the poem, “The Writer”. I thoroughly enjoyed disecting it indeed.
Oops, should have said ‘dissecting.’
Yes, and you should have said it dis-SECTing, not DIsecting.
But I see that howjsay.com gives both: http://howjsay.com/index.php?word=dissect&submit=Submit
I love howjsay, but that’s just wrong.
Thanks, Dave W, for link, it shall definitely come in real handy.
Marie-Thérèse, sorry for the tardy response–I hope you see this. I did not want to dash off & read a poem online while trying to catch up on my inbox–poetry usually suffers that way…
But did remember to look that one up when I was in the mood for poetry…still read it online, but took time to savor it and am glad I did, and glad for the reference–thanks! (Not sure I’d have enjoyed formal dissection, though–that always seemed like a real interest-killer to me, back in my classroom days…)
Diane: the paragraph in link sums up succinctly ‘ The Writer’ by Richard Wilbur in one. “The Pardon” is another one I will have explicate, as it too is on the curriculum.
http://www.radessays.com/viewpaper/3781/Analysis_of_Richard_Wilbur's_Poem,.html
Adrienne Rich & Sylvia Plath are also on the Irish Curriculum without fail every year. “Aunt Jennifer’s Tiger” by the former is a powerfully full of imagery. Thev lattter had a very turbulent life. In ‘Poppies in July’, Plath seems so emotionally exhausted that she has given up the rational pursuit of the truth or any kind of vision. She longs for drugged relief, for a ‘colourless’ state: ‘Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules’.
Book-wise, “The Secret Lives of Bees” by Sue Monk-Kidd is also up there.
——————-
Erm… don’t ask me where I got the name Dave W, Paul W? I’m baffled!
Marie-Thérèse
Dave W. is a familiar name around here, and mine is easily confused with his. (You’re in good company confusing them.)
Thanks again. I am such a Philistine, sigh. Compared to my lit classes of some 40 years ago, now, which barely mentioned the 20th century, I noticed my children’s classes paid quite a bit of attention to more contemporary writers.
I’m from Yorkshire and the people in southern counties drive me crazy with, as pointrd out in this forum “TREEPS” instead of “TROOPS” , “DRAWRING” instead of “DRAWING” and LAW RAND ORDER” instead of “LAW AND ORDER”. Sorry about our pronunciation of your President’s name. However no one pronounces more words wrongly than people from USA. Whatever one thinks of Hitler, his name was Adolf not Aydolf. Of course one we have heard a lot of is people from USA pronouncing the name of a country as EYE RAQ instead of IRAQ (The I is short as in dish or ship). Also the city of Moscow should be pronounced with cow as in slow or go not as in the bovine female from which we get milk!