I hope you have an enjoyable and suitably spooky day today, whether you’re dressing up, trick or treating, or staying in with some horror movies. To celebrate, I’m going to have a look at some of the words we associate with this day. Continue reading
The English language has an amazing variety of accents, not just internationally, but within different regions of countries. One of the most recognisable, and oft-imitated, is the Jamaican accent. And of course people often imitate it badly. And when they do, a common remark is that they sound more Irish than Jamaican. Well, that’s no coincidence… Continue reading
Hooligan‘s a great word, isn’t it? The sound of it really matches what it represents. Now the word is mainly associated with troublemakers at football games, but it’s been around for quite a long time. It first appeared in British police reports in 1898, and seems to have been based on the surname Houlihan. Coming from the original Gaelic surname Ó hUallacháin, it came to be used to represent a stereotypical comic Irish figure in music-hall shows in the late 19th century.
Given the stereotypes of Irish people in cities like New York and London at the time, it’s not such a surprise that the name became a synonym for an angry, violent, and probably drunk, individual. The word was also quickly absorbed into Russian as khuligan, to refer to violent young men harassing people on the streets, and political dissenters. Continue reading
It feels like ages since I’ve written anything, but I’ve had a well-earned holiday. First a few days in Barcelona, which is a fantastic vibrant city full of great sights and food, which is really all I ask for.
I arrived back in Dublin on Sunday evening, but I didn’t go straight back to Galway. Instead, I extended my holiday with a few days in Northern Ireland. Even though it’s ridiculously close, it was actually only the second time I’ve crossed the border. I think the main reason for that is because when I was young, there were regularly stories about the violence and terrorism taking place there. Even though the situation’s vastly improved now and it’s all very peaceful up there, I think I’ve still been influenced by the less-than-attractive image of the region’s past. I think before I continue, a (very!) brief history is in order. Continue reading
England and America are two countries divided by a common language – George Bernard Shaw
When you’re here, let’s speak American – Sarah Palin
George Bernard Shaw, of course, was Irish, which just goes to show how confusingly international the English language can be. While there are a number of national and regional variations of English around the world, the greatest division between forms of English is that between American English and British English. Most other forms of English tend to be largely a variation, or mix, of one of these two, with varying influences from other languages of that country.
There are two main areas of difference between British and American English. The first is vocabulary, with different words being used to describe the same thing: cookie/biscuit, tap/faucet, vacation/holiday, hood and trunk/bonnet and boot, lorry/truck, and the whole fry/chip/crisp fiasco. The second is of course spelling. Two of the main changes are: words ending in -re in British English changing to -er in American English, and -our changing to -or.
It’s quite easy to live with these changes, and they tend to cause little confusion for native speakers (except for the occasional Briton who goes on holiday to America and asks for a burger and chips). And yet, people can get very passionate about these differences, and defensive of their English. I think a lot of that can be attributed to simply preferring the way one has always done things, and instinctively resisting any alternative to that. I think almost all of us have that instinctive resistance to change to some extent, and a sense that our way is unquestionably the right way. However, I think that when it comes to language, there’s a little more to do it than that.
I think that the English we use is also inextricably bound up with our national or cultural identity. And why not? We use it every day to communicate our thoughts, and it can be a clear signifier of where we’re from. Look at how American English differs from British English. Looking at it objectively, it certainly seems more logical. English pronunciation can be notoriously confusing, due to its origins in, and borrowings from, other languages. Changing -re to -re, for example then, just makes the spelling of words closer to how they’re pronounced. And with words like colour and flavour, is that u really necessary? No? Get rid of it then. It’s understandable that a new country, conscious of setting out on their own in contrast to their former coloniser, would like to establish its own identity. Language is an easy thing to change, and is an obvious sign of difference. In addition, the ideals of the Founding Fathers were strongly influenced by the Enlightenment ideals of logic and reason, and it makes sense that in creating a uniquely American form of English, they would try to impose some logic on the language. It’s a modern, forward-looking form of English, not relying on using old forms simply because they’ve always been used.
As for why some people seem to resent American English? I think it’s partly just resentment at the new form of English, daring to make a change. But also, the UK is very old compared to the US, and has accrued a lot more traditions. One can observe many seemingly archaic rituals and institutions in relation to government and the monarchy. And one can look at British English as a similar institution. Does it make sense that words that end in -re sound like -er? Not anymore, but then how on Earth could one imagine changing the spelling of a word that’s existed for so long? Logic and reason are all well and good, but sometimes you just have to accept things as they are and work with it. I don’t think that’s a uniquely British attitude by the way, but rather a more general European one. So many of our nations are so old, and we’re so often reminded of our history, that we can be resistant to change. Plus, the cultural exchange common in a small continent with many differnet countries means that different languages influence each other, and we get used to the fact that some of the results of these influences might not seem so logical. So why simplify things then, when we’ve learned to live with language’s eccentricities?
I should state for the record, by the way, that being Irish, my English is mostly British English, with a lot of influence from the Irish language. As a result, I do instinctively prefer the conventions of British English, and when I see American English spellings my brain does tell me that they’re wrong. And yet I use some Americanisms, like, for some reason, the way I pronounce yoghurt. So I think that gives me a little objectivity in comparing the two forms of English. And I suppose the way Hiberno-English can incorporate some American English reflects the nature of Irishness. We’re culturally and geographically very close to the UK, but we’ve long felt an affinity with the United States, largely due to the numbers of Irish people who emigrated there, and we’re very exposed to and influenced by American culture.
George Bernard Shaw might have been joking when he made his pronouncement about British and American English, but there is some truth to it. Some things can get lost in translation, but at the same time, whatever variety of English we speak, we still speak the same language, and despite the many differences, that still unites us. Still, be careful if you go to England and tell someone that you like their pants.
Image: https://idea-udl.org/conferences/past-conferences/london-new-york/
It might surprise some people to notice how common the surname English is in Ireland. But there is a logic to it. The surname, in a variety of forms, was actually quite common around different areas of the modern-day United Kingdom, being recorded as far back as the 12th century. With the variety of different tribes and ethnic groups in these islands, and Europe in general, the name English was given to someone to denote that they were of Anglo-Saxon origin, particularly in border regions where lots of mingling would be expected.
The more common surname Walsh has a similar history. This may be less surprising when one considers how it’s still often pronounced in the west of Ireland: Welsh. And of course there’s Scott too!
Another surname with a seemingly similar origin is Ffrench. Yes, there are two f‘s, that’s not a typo. It’s not so common, but is to be found around my hometown of Galway, being the name of one of the 14 historically powerful and wealthy families of the city, who were known as The Tribes of Galway. At first I assumed it simply meant, well, French. Given the extent to which Norman culture influenced Ireland after the invasion of 1169, it wouldn’t be surprising. That influence is still evident in many Irish names. Burke comes from the Irish De Búrca, which in turn comes from the Norman De Burgo. Any name with Fitz is of Norman origin, with the prefix meaning son of. So Fitzgerald, for example means son of Gerald. And yet, while Ffrench is French in origin, it doesn’t actually mean French. It comes from the old Norman Irish name Defraine, which has been anglicised in many forms such as Frayne, Freyne, Freeney, French, and Ffrench. Defraine originally comes from the French word Frêne, meaning place with ash trees.
I love how surnames developed simply as a means to give us information about someone, like what their job was or where they were from. In your country and language, do people have surnames which come from nearby nationalities?
The above is the longest place name in Ireland, and is obviously quite a mouthful. It’s an Anglicisation of the original Gaelic name Muiceneach idir Dhá Sháile, which, as you all know, means “pig-shaped hill between two seas.” Most modern placenames in Ireland are similar Anglicisations. For example, many Irish towns begin with Bally- or Balli-, coming from the Irish word Baile (town) being part of the original name. A town like Ballycastle would have originally been name Baile an Chaislean (town of the castle).
Such Anglicisation can lead to redundancy. This is often the case with rivers, as many of them begin with Owen-, from the Irish word abhainn, meaning river. So Abhainn Buí, meaning the Yellow River, was translated to the River Owenboy.
Some pretty ordinary sounding placenames have such origins, but some can be a bit of a mouthful due to some clumsy translation: Continue reading
English-Language Thoughts 