Writing, as I am now, about British East Africa in the early
20th Century, I have a new challenge—making my characters sound British
and still have the dialog comprehensible to modern readers on the both sides of
the pond. The task is complicated by
the fact that the scenes take place a hundred years ago.
The disparity between the two languages became apparent to
me shortly after I left school, when an English friend pointed out the
verbosity of English (as opposed to American) speech. “In New York,” he said, “a stranger needing
to break a large bill will walk up to you and say, ‘Hey, have you got change of
a ten?’ But a Londoner will approach and say, ‘I beg your pardon and please
forgive me for interrupting you, but I wonder if you would mind helping
me. I find that I am in need of smaller
money than I am in possession of. Would
you mind at all, if you can, giving me change for this ten pound note.” That friend was the first person I ever heard
utter the chestnut: the United States and Great Britain, two countries
separated by a common language.
He gave me a Xerox of a chapter of Mark Twain’s A Tramp Abroad, which I still have. It begins like this:
“There was
as Englishman in our compartment, and he complimented me on --on what? But you
would never guess. He complimented me on my English. He said Americans in
general did not speak the English language as correctly as I did. I said I was
obliged to him for his compliment, since I knew he meant it for one, but that I
was not fairly entitled to it, for I did not speak English at all--I only spoke
American.”
Twain goes on to make great fun of how the English pronounce
the language through their noses (cow vs.
käow, etc.) But then he takes up usage
and finishes the chapter, of course, with a punch line:
“When
you are exhausted, you say you are 'knocked up.' We don't. When you say you
will do a thing 'directly,' you mean 'immediately'; in the American
language--generally speaking--the word signifies 'after a little.' When you say
'clever,' you mean 'capable'; with us the word used to mean 'accommodating,'
but I don't know what it means now. Your word 'stout' means 'fleshy'; our word
'stout' usually means 'strong.' Your words 'gentleman' and 'lady' have a very
restricted meaning; with us they include the barmaid, butcher, burglar, harlot,
and horse-thief. You say, 'I haven't got any stockings on,' 'I haven't got any memory,'
'I haven't got any money in my purse; we usually say, 'I haven't any stockings
on,' 'I haven't any memory!' 'I haven't any money in my purse.' You say 'out of
window'; we always put in a the. If one asks 'How old is that man?' the Briton
answers, 'He will be about forty'; in the American language we should say, 'He
is about forty.' However, I won't tire you, sir; but if I wanted to, I could
pile up differences here until I not only convinced you that English and
American are separate languages, but that when I speak my native tongue in its
utmost purity an Englishman can't understand me at all.""I don't wish to flatter you, but it is about all I can do to understand you now."
That was a very pretty compliment, and it put us on the pleasantest terms directly--I use the word in the English sense.”
If you want, you can read the whole chapter here:
To serve my prissy desire to get history right in my novels,
I found the most wonderful website. It
gives the meanings of idiomatic expressions in Britglish and even tells when they
came into use. A boon for an American writer
who wants to make sure her British-isms are not anachronistic. If you have a mind to browse it, here it is:
For myself, my editor asked about some of the phrases I used
in Strange Gods. Here is what I answered in an email last week:
“Regards Britglish vs. Amerglish:
In this latest version, I have three instances where the characters, in dialog,
use the word “whilst” as is still commonly used by the educated Brits.
You questioned three expressions that are British-isms. We can Amercanize
them if they are too distracting. I tried to make these people sound
British to American ears and would like to maintain that, but not if it is
disturbing.
Page 100: Cranford says “Rum business.” Modern Americans would say “Crazy
business,” but that would not sound right to me coming out of that snob’s
mouth.
Page 155: Cranford again: he says “that will be an end on it,” which is
how Brits say “that will be the end of it.”
Page 206: Nurse Freemantle says, “Vera is from home.” An American would say
“Vera is not home.”
My editor said we should leave them the way I had them. I am really glad of that. If, once the book is out, I get any flack
about this from readers, I have my response ready. I will just shout, “Popycock!”
Quite.
ReplyDeleteSo I once worked with a British nurse who said she came across a patient, admitted to the hospital, who was very discouraged about his prognosis. She told him a bit about his illness and as final encouragement said, "Keep your pecker up."
ReplyDeleteIt created quite a stir.
Steph
Super title ! tjstraw
ReplyDeleteThanks to you all. Wonderful story, Steph. Thelma, the title of the blog or the title of the book?
ReplyDeleteThe title of the blog. Was not sure of your title of your new book - perhaps you'll clarify for us... Merci bien... Tibi gratias ago . ( sorry, I don't know the Italian, Belgian, Czech or Indonesian...) tstraw P.S. Everybody on CWC - be sure to catch Sandy Parshall's great notes on rewriting... she's really got it down pat!!! on a lot of posts of SinC this week.....
ReplyDelete