English, you snob!

The BBC is currently broadcasting a fascinating TV programme entitled ‘Worlds of English’. It deals with English as it is used in different parts of the world and, since there is considerable dialogue with local inhabitants, we are treated to unique insights concerning the evolution and use of hybrid English – Hinglish, Chinglish, Singlish, and so on. (Yes, I’ve watched just three episodes, so far!)

English was carried to the colonies and taught to the ‘natives’ who promptly adapted it to their own requirements. If they could understand each other, where lay the problem? English language teachers were horrified and sought to instill the use of propah English by drilling hapless students in grammar and vocabulary. The knowledge and ability to use correct English was the standard by which one’s erudition was judged! No more. As one savvy Singaporean put it, ‘We use Singlish to communicate with our friends and within our peer group. It’s a fun language – unstructured and accommodating. And we know when and how to use Standard English as well.’ He was affronted that Singlish was treated as pidgin. Singlish is used to communicate, therefore it is a language. How right?!

This brings me to the reason for my topic today:

I belong to a generation that was rigorously schooled in the King’s (Queen’s?) English. As part of this education, it was considered de rigueur for us to flavour our writing with the bon mot, phrases and expressions culled from Latin, French, and German. Such usage was indicative of a higher standard of language, such as exhibited by the best British Universities! So we mugged up the words and phrases: carpe diem, Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes, bête noire, la dolce vita, savoir faire, doppelganger (go figure!) and made sure that we used them within the texts we produced. We wanted to appear au fait with the language, and how! (And what is wrong with saying ‘conversant’ anyway? The Lord knows that the English language has enough synonyms to fit any bill).

My current reading brought this home. A series of essays on the work of other authors, the text is peppered with mutatis mutandis, contemptus mundi, propria persona, Zeitgeist – you get the drift. What makes it deliciously ironical is that these phrases are culled from the ‘classic’ languages, the languages of nations that were inimical to the British – at one time or the other in history, Britain was at war with France, Germany and Rome.

Yet, when it comes to the language of the colonies, the injection of local words and phrases is considered a corruption.

Why does it cause so much jhanjat (such a furore) if we choose to ghoosao (try and infiltrate) a few choice phrases of our own? Particularly those phrases which, thanks to juicy idiom, defy translation?!

And, to use such an idiom, even though out of context, why must the English be kebab me haddi? (‘play spoilsports’ would be an accurate translation, but it conveys none of the spicy flavour!)

PS: A note of caution. In the words of my favourite grammarian, David Crystal, one must first know the rules in order to know how to bend them. A strong grounding in Standard English is required for representation at the global level. One cannot carry over Hinglish and expect to be appreciated!

Clutterbumph!

Shades of ‘My Fair Lady’ and ‘why can’t the English teach their children how to speak?’ Well anyone who knows will tell you that spoken English is a minefield that is well nigh impossible to navigate.

Written English is a snap and with a little practice, words can be made to trip breezily off the pen. All you need is a collection of esoteric words and phrases, culled from adventurous reading; Google them to find out the meanings and how they can be used, bung them into your sentences and, hey presto, you sound erudite! Thanks to the creative Americans, there is no shortage of new words and we have to thank them for the growing weight of our dictionaries, reverse dictionaries, thesauruses and mental baggage.

Spoken English, on the other hand, can strip off the mask, leaving you exposed. It’s everyone’s clutterbumph (love the word – thank you, Paul Gallico). Thanks to the fact that the English language is heavy on adoption, we have to negotiate words culled from every language of the globe, ancient and modern. Greek and Latin are not too bad, the Indian languages are phonetic and therefore pose no great problems (except for the British!), German is another happily phonetic tongue – spoken as she is written. But when you come to words derived from French, your troubles begin. Pronunciation is diametrically opposite to the way the word is spelt, and why on earth anyone would want to do that is a mystery. Spanish (‘j’ is pronounced as ‘h’ and ‘ll’ is pronounced as ‘y’!!) and Italian (actually, not too bad) add to the confusion. Throw in silent letters and words that are spelt similarly but pronounced differently (cough and bough are good examples), add to them the staples of pronunciation exercises (Worcester pronounced ‘wooster’ and brougham pronounced ‘broom’) and you will be caught up in an inextricable tangle. Despite investing in a pronunciation dictionary, spoken English still sends me into a tizzy.

The social interaction aspect also comes into play. How does one discourse with another whose pronunciation of common words differs radically? Shades of ‘I say tom(ah)to, you say tom(ay)to’!

Peter Piper, of tongue twister fame, will probably realise with chagrin, that it’s time to stop ‘picking pecks of pickled pepper’ and get with it if he wants to orate with sangfroid and chutzpah!

What’s With the Words?

I once read a short story, written in the first person, by an author who suffered from a rather strange speech impediment. What she heard herself saying and what she actually said were two different things. To illustrate, I quote (though not verbatim): Chancing upon her husband and young son in the middle of an argument that was going nowhere she said – or thought she said – “Stop this petty bickering!”. What they heard was, “Stop this Betty Pickering!” They promptly turned to her and said, “Who’s Betty Pickering? And why do you want her stopped?”

Well, this kind of mix up is rather uncommon in speech but very common with the keyboard. Fingers have a will of their own and very often letters are transposed or omitted with quite amazing results. One student writing about the joys of Facebook kept repeating about how wonderful it was to get in touch with his fiends (yes, spell-check did prompt me to change it!). Considering what the younger generation can get up to, and this particular student’s potential for mischief, I thought his choice was most apt and certainly descriptive!

More recently, I needed to send a message regarding a colleague and hit send before I realised that I had spelt her name as ‘Perker’ (once again, spell check popped up most helpfully!) instead of ‘Parker’. Considering that she is a real perk-me-up, perhaps this was a Freudian slip of the finger? Well, Leila, if you are reading this blog, you know that you have been featured!

Many are the anecdotes associated with mishaps in the use of English and no one had a better collection than the Reader’s Digest which published excerpts in the available space after an article. How many of you remember ‘Pardon, your slip’s showing’? Yes, I can feel the smiles.

Of Borrowed Words and Porous Grandmothers… (and unexpected adventures in the English language!)

Never did I think that I would be penning thoughts to such a ‘Durrellian’ title. Then again, experience has taught me that ‘never’ is a word that never should have been included in the English Dictionary!

When asked to coach media students in writing skills via e-learning, I had little idea of the adventure it would turn out to be.

Invited to cast their words upon the page, our aspiring media professionals were surprisingly reticent. Surely the electronic medium was familiar territory? Slowly, as the assignments began to trickle in, it became all too obvious that the reluctance stemmed from the after effects of a regimented education.

In this time of guides, cheat sheets and coaching class notes, in the scramble for that perfect 99, one’s own words are worth zilch. We are witnessing the mass produced student, programmed to replicate his, or her, stipulated ‘portion’. It is not surprising, then, that the students found the Internet a very safe place to be. Here were the words that they needed: framed, formatted and ready to download. They were in for a rude awakening!

Challenged to produce original work, most of them ultimately stuck to ‘the cat sat on the mat’ formula for their sentences. Others - too few - stepped out and took that self same cat, prodded it till it fought, bit, scratched and then sat on the vanquished mat. Here lies proof that originality is not dead. Here lies inspiration - for words breed words, which is why reading teaches writing. Here lies imagination - without it the written word would be dull indeed.

Then there were those who took the English language where it was never expected to go, coining words and employing phrases which would keep a legion of lexicographers locked in labour for years to come.

But words are never wasted. They can set one upon a novel trend of thought and the English language, when employed by the uninitiated, is rife with unintended humour. One can look upon the phrase wryly and with jaundiced eye, but laughter can never be absent. It was this recurring laughter which prompted my thoughts. Having ridden the rollercoaster from exasperation to mirth and back, I felt the need to share the experience.

Yes, words are never wasted, and my gratitude is certainly due to that delightfully porous grandmother*!

*as part of a writing assignment one student, penning a condolence letter, wrote (and I quote verbatim!): ‘…Words are pouring probably like the tears from your eyes but I cannot go on like this. Grandmother suffered a lot later in life. Maybe she became porous after all the injections she took.’