Showing posts with label puns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label puns. Show all posts

Monday, 22 February 2016

Making whey (with whetstones?)

Almost a year ago I wrote here about words making way for other words in dictionaries. My use of the evanescent word burgher ...
<digression>
whose evanescence...
<meta_digression>
longtime readers may remember that I wrote here about the inchoative infix -ISC- {with its legacy of  English words that contain the letters 'sc' and have something to do with a  beginning or gradual process}
</meta_digression>
...has been dragged out over more than a century
</digression>

... led me to think, not about words replacing others but words dying out while others become more popular – even though they're completely  unrelated.
<digression>
This happened in the case of let (meaning obstacle), because of a pun caused by the Great Vowel Shift (which led to the words for obstacle – as in without let or hindrance or a let in tennis...
<rantette>
... and gawd 'elp me I'll swing for that tennis commentator who insists on saying "let-cord" (which is, for the record, hyper-correct)...
</rantette>
... and (not because of the vowel this time, but because of RBP's careless conflation of the sounds [w] and [ʍ]* into a single /w/ phoneme) in the case of whet (meaning sharpen).  
* [ʍ] is the "whispered" /w/, sometimes represented  in print as hw – still apparent in the spelling "wh" (making the word whispered strangely appropriate). 
AND I'VE COLOURED IN THIS STACK OF DIGRESSIONS 
TO MAKE IT SLIGHTLY EASIER TO MAKE SENSE OF. 
</digression>
In that blog I wrote of  "the burghers of Ealing"  – which itself seemed rather strange.
<digression>
Incidentally, burghers collocates with the and of about 10 times more frequently than burgher, as this BNC search shows; and for some reason the burghers of Ealing seems much less resonant than the burghers of Hamelin.
</digression>
But while I was looking up the spelling here I glanced down out of interest at the Usage Trends – which made me wonder what occasioned the change. Was the relative neologism burger involved?

The word burger was shortened from hamburger in 1939 – that is, 1939 was the earliest attested usage; it was no doubt gathering a head of steam throughout the inter-war years.

Here is what Etymonline says (about hamburger, as burger just has a terse cross-reference):
hamburger (n.) Look up hamburger at Dictionary.com
1610s, Hamburger "native of Hamburg." Also used of ships from Hamburg. From 1838 as a type of excellent black grape indigenous to Tyrolia; 1857 as a variety of hen; the meat product so called from 1880 (as hamburg steak), named for the German city, though no certain connection has ever been put forth, and there may not be one unless it be that Hamburg was a major port of departure for German immigrants to United States. Meaning "a sandwich consisting of a bun and a patty of grilled hamburger meat" attested by 1909, short for hamburger sandwich (1902).
So in 1902 hamburger sandwich was attested in American English; and a few years later the unrelated [w e l l... the burg- part of it was, via the placename, but the concepts burger and burgher are unrelated] burgher started to dwindle in  popularity.

Started to dwindle? How do we know? Collins helpfully lets you specify different extents for a word's changing fortunes, and taking the word frequency back another two hundred years we see something of a roller-coaster. The general trend was up throughout those first two centuries, though with many ups and downs; and there was a marked peak at about the turn of the century. But the story has been one of fairly consistent decline throughout the twentieth century and beyond – which I think justifies my use of the word started.

Of course, many other things have changed – politics, various kinds of context... Besides, I am the last (excuse the hyperbole, maybe ante-pre-penultimate) to make the rookie mistake of confusing correlation with causality. And anyway, the slide in frequency was well under way before the abbreviation was coined.. Still, it all strikes me as rather THINGish.

b

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

Not invented here

The Mysterious Origins of 10 Popular Sayings

Gosh. Mysterious. I can't wait.  
 
It was allegedly written (but obviously not proof-read) by 'the same expert linguists who edit the Webster’s Dictionary', so it should be pretty reliable. Unfortunately, the web-page grabs you by the scruff of the neck and shouts 'HAVE YOU HEARD OF US?'. I suspect that if you admit ignorance they put you through several more hoops. So my advice is to cross your fingers and say "OF COURSE – how could anyone not have '.   

The first of the ten is 'You are what you eat'. This was an easy one – it's a German pun: Der Mensch ist, was er iβt. It's attributed to Ludwig Feuerbach, according to my The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations - third edition - 1980 (my source of choice for this sort of information, for reasons discussed here). But the pun is such an obvious one that I'd be surprised if Feuerbach really got there first (in 1850 says ODQ3). 1826, say those 'expert linguists who edit the Webster’s Dictionary'. Maybe they meant 1825; this was the date of publication of Brillat-Savarin's Physiologie du Goût. In that he wrote Dis-moi ce que tu manges, je te dirai ce qu tu es. Maybe this, with the help of Google Translate,  is behind the experts'  bland and meaningless

“show a man what he eats and I will show you who he is”

which they attribute to 'French and German intellectuals'. Show a man...? I will show you who he is? What rubbish these French and German intellectuals talk! Tell me when an AMERICAN first used it....
 
Moving on to the piece on 'a piece of cake' this site says the fons et origo was Ogden Nash. Frankly, I 'hae ma doots'; but as someone memorably said recently (just not memorably enough for me to remember the exact words) 'the effort involved in disproving bullsh*t is an order of magnitude greater than the effort required to produce it'. A fair amount of what that site says about origins is neither bovine nor fecal. But some of it is demonstrably wrong and the rest has editorial standards that don't inspire confidence. Here's one example:
....Nash isn’t the first person to use deserts as a symbol for simplicity and ease. Other phrases exist in the American lexicon such as “easy as pie” and “it’s a cake walk”. Deserts like that are easy to eat, too.
But don't you just hate that gritty feeling when the sand gets in your teeth? And those yucky scarab beetles – gross!

And in the final piece:
Quitting smoking? Are you going cold turkey? The phrase has become almost exclusively associated with withdrawal from drugs or suddenly stoping anything at all. [What, I wonder, is stoping? Dispensing family-planning information, perhaps...]
It’s origin goes back as early as [the sort of horrid solecism that doesn't inspire confidence] American colonists [of course, silly of me to imagine that anything didn't originate in the land of the free] and the role the turkey played as both a food source and symbol. In America, it went on to mean “talking the plain truth”. In 1921, when the newspaper The Daily Colonist said that drug addicts were getting the “cold turkey treatment”, it became a popular usage to define withdrawal from a substance. Something to think about the next time you’re battling an addition. [Me, I have trouble with long division. Addition's a piece of cake though.]

I'm sure this blog (my own, I mean) suffers from its fair share of typographical gremlins. But I have to admit to finding it irksome that such lazy, Americo-centric, and slapdash writing and editing  gets favorited and RTd so widely by teachers I respect.

b
PS Perhaps I should have tagged this as a rant.
PPS Stick at home, immersed in red wine (8)
Update 2014.06.23.10:30 – Added this footnote:
  A perhaps imperfect memory suggests to me that Kant had used it the previous century. But again, his 'er iβt nicht' seems unlikely to have been the first use of this pun.

Update 2014.08.02.15:50 – Added this PPPS (as though it were needed)
PPPS: The answer to the PPS clue: CLARINET



 Mammon When Vowels Get Together V5.2: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs. Now complete (that is, it covers all vowel pairs –  but there's still stuff to be done with it; an index, perhaps...?) 

And here it is: Digraphs and Diphthongs . The (partial) index has an entry for each vowel pair that can represent each monophthong phoneme. For example AE, EA and EE are by far the most common pairs of vowels used to represent the /i:/ phoneme, but there are eight other possibilities. The index uses colour to give an idea of how common a spelling is, ranging from bright red to represent the most common to pale olive green to represent the least common.

Also available at Amazon: When Vowels Get Together: The paperback.

And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources: just over 44,100 views  and well over 6,000 downloads to date**. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with over 2,250 views and nearly 1,000 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.













Thursday, 17 October 2013

Red letter day

Actually, it's not (a red letter day – work is progressing on the -UI- section of #WVGTbook);  but I suppose it is (an RLD) for someone.

To start this morning's In Our Time, one of the guests was describing what there was in the way of church literature before the Book of Common Prayer. The main player was the Missal all in Latin. The faithful had no precise idea of what was going on in the mass; which is why the altar boy rang a hand-bell at critical moments. The same speaker also said there were 'rubrics'.

When people don't know what's going on they can listen for the bell, watch for interesting bits of ceremony, and look at the Missal – even though they can't read Latin. Because rubrics tended to be, and usually were picked out in red (I'm not sure why Etymonline is so mealy-mouthed with its '(often in red writing)'; the word comes from the Latin rubrica  – itself derived from ruber, 'red').The man on the radio probably knew this, but didn't say it (although it strikes me, at least, as interesting and apposite).

To this day⋇, roman missals have instructions to the congregation in red. And every week-day, when there is no special theme to the Mass, is marked (in red) Feria. Students of Portuguese will recognize here the days of the week: Prima Feira, Segunda Feira.... The feira part is so common that the days of the week often have (feminine) adjectives as names: Terça, Quarta, Quinta...

The strange thing is, though (and it's been bothering me for many years) that feria means 'feast'; it's ultimately where the English 'fair' comes from (the public celebration sort of fair, that is).  So  maybe (only my guess) the typesetters of the first missals wanted to say that on the lowliest of working days the Mass was a special celebration.

I was meaning to carry on the theme of redness by marvelling at  Borges' use of rubricar in the story known to many English readers as 'Death and the compass' but which has the original title La muerte y la brújula (which is better, because it doesn't telegraph the solution†). But I have words and words to do, and promises to keep and words to do before I sleep‡.

b

† Note, if you're that interested in the writings of 'un mero literato de la República meramente argentina': The whereabouts of the final murder in that story is predicted not with a compass but with un compás – which can be used to contruct a rhombus given an equilateral triangle. The English 'compass' and 'pair of compasses' (for the few who insist on giving it its proper name, not just 'compass') are too close for comfort, and you can't tell me that Borges, with all his English learning, didn't know what he was doing when he used that bilingual pun.

Update: 2013.10.18.10:30
‡repaired the misquote (which is now a misquote on only one level!).

Update: 2013.10.21.17:10

Well, until 1966, at least; and where the Latin Mass is said (if it IS – I'm a bit out of touch with this stuff) I imagine the missals used still say it.



 Mammon (When Vowels Get Together V4.1: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs – AA-AU, EA-EU,   IA-IU, OA-OU, and – new for V4.1 – UA-UE.  If you buy it, contact  @WVGTbook on Twitter and I'll alert you to free downloads of the forthcoming volumes; or click the Following button at the foot of this page.)
And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources:  32,700 views**,  and  4,400 downloads to date. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1637 views/740 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.













Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Tearjerker

In a new production of The Winter's Tale (whose actress was interviewed on this morning's Woman's Hour), Falstaff's doxy/moll/squeeze/whatever is called 'Doll Tearsheet'. Well, she's always been called that, but it's /teə/ as in tare - not /tɪə/ as in 'teardrop'. When I 'did' it at school (a painfully [in at least two senses] RC one) it was the not the 'tare' sort - and the archaic tare, incidentally, was a word that we good Catholic boys were well acquainted with; we were going to be the world's wheat, not its tares.

The version of that name that we were taught was the sort redolent of wronged chastity, like Desdemona or (a heroine we studied a year later) Hermione - in The Winter's Tale. Which brings us back neatly to Woman's Hour - another interview had mentioned the 'new' trend of 'slut-shaming'. New? When accused by Leontes of infidelity, Hermione bewails her condition: 'myself on every post proclaimed a strumpet' (which, by the way, recalls that adolescent tendency I have mentioned before of latching onto a situation in culture [there it was music, here it is literature], but this is not A to Markworthy* and I shall draw a veil over the details.)

But this production calls Ms Tearsheet  /teəʃi:t/, which has a couple of possible meanings, with reference to a working-girl's life: one is the one mentioned on the radio this morning - referring to damage to bedlinen. This is quite possible, though it seems to me that wear (in both its senses - treating bed-clothes as if they were working clothes, and causing damage by, ahem, repeated movement) might have been a more apt choice. The meaning that appeals to me refers to a book of customers or invoices. She services one, and then tears off a sheet before proceeding to the next.

Enough of this. The Schedule calls.

b


*The title of my once-planned (and indeed started - if three or four thousand words counts) autobiography, named after the first volume of the two-volume SOED, to be written before I was forty. I'm afraid now it would have to be called Marl to Z.

Update: 2013.10.02.16:05
Header updated:


 Mammon (When Vowels Get Together V4.0: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs – AA-AU, EA-EU, and  IA-IU, and – new for V4.0 – OA-OU.  If you buy it, contact  @WVGTbook on Twitter and I'll alert you to free downloads of the forthcoming volumes; or click the Following button at the foot of this page.)
And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources: nearly 32,400 views**,  and  4,400 downloads to date. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1570 views/700 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.
 

Sunday, 21 October 2012

Homonymic schomonymic. They're puns already



Gwynneth Lewis, the first Welsh Poet Laureate, on the radio just now said that Dafydd ap Gwilym had done something /frɒm ðə geʔ gəʊ/. And because her accent was quite broad, and I was expecting lilting things like /’let.tə/ for ‘letter’, I misheard in a way that suggested a reptilian version of ‘from the horse’s mouth’. But geckos don’t enjoy the same position as horses in figurative English, so I was momentarily flummoxed.

But she wasn’t in the least aware of any possible pun; the perpetrators of puns often aren’t, particularly when the pun is in the mind of the listener – and depends on over-interpretation of an accent that the speaker, quite naturally, sees as unimpeachable. Perhaps the most interesting puns are ones like this – where the speaker is unaware of the pun (or ‘homonymic clash’, as I learnt to call puns when I was studying at the feet of Doctor (now Professor) Erik Fudge. [Sic]

+ various updates to the footer, the most recent being on 2013.10.06.12:05




 Mammon (When Vowels Get Together V4.0: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs – AA-AU, EA-EU, and  IA-IU, and – new for V4.0 – OA-OU.  If you buy it, contact  @WVGTbook on Twitter and I'll alert you to free downloads of the forthcoming volumes; or click the Following button at the foot of this page.)
And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources: nearly 32,400 views**,  and  4,400 downloads to date. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1570 views/700 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.