Commonly-Misspelled Words

Spelling is hard. We’re usually gradually eased into it. We pick up words first by hearing them, and then at home (hopefully) and at school we’re exposed to written words, usually pretty simple ones that look as you might imagine from hearing them. Dog, cat, hat etc. Then the more we read, the more we get used to words with less phonetic spellings. That’s how you spell laugh? And though? Ok, if that’s the way it is. Sometimes, we’ll come across words we’ve heard, but whose spelling we don’t recognise. Usually at some point we’ll figure out through context that this strange-looking word is actually a common one we’re familiar with, but that can take a long time in some cases.

But despite all that, there are some words, which either through their length and complexity, or sheer counter-intuitiveness, prove quite difficult to spell. Here are some of the most-commonly misspelled words: Continue reading

Practice Makes Perfect. Or is that “Practise…”

This post is something of a companion piece to yesterday’s.

Up until early February 2008, I never gave much thought to the spelling of the word practice. Or practise, for that matter. What happened then, in the last depths of winter, to change that?

I wrote my lesson plan for my first teaching practice on my teacher-training course, that’s what happened. Somewhere within that incredibly detailed plan, I wrote something along the lines of Students practice using the target language. Continue reading

I Before E, Except…

i before e, except after c.

Most native English speakers are familiar with this rule of thumb. It’s quite handy, isn’t it? With words that have i and e together in the middle of them, it can be hard to remember what order they should be in. How marvellous then, to have a rule that’s not only easy to remember, but rhymes too! But if you’ve learned English, you’ve probably grown to mistrust anyone who claims that a rule is 100% airtight… Continue reading

Divided by a Common Language

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/

 

“Ok?” “Okay!”

Ok (or okay) is one of those words (like hiccup/hiccough), wherein I always thought the different spellings could be attributed to one being an older, more formal spelling of the word, and the other a modern abbreviation. I assumed that okay was the original spelling, and ok the modern version, after some clever individual realised that the two letters pronounced one after the other sounded the same as okay. But like hiccough and hiccup, I was wrong to assume so. Continue reading

GHOTI

How do you spell fish?

I’ll give you a few seconds to think about it.

 

*whistles*

*looks out window*

*whistles again*

Ready? Ok, did you say f…i…s…h?

Well, that’s ok I suppose. I mean, it is correct after all.

But wouldn’t you like to try spelling it differently, at least just once? For example, how about… Continue reading

What Yacht?

Just  a short post tonight as it’s late, I’ve had three pints of delicious local Buried at Sea chocolate stout, and I’m quite tired after watching Ireland dramatically beat Italy in the European Championships to qualify for the next round.

I think those last two might be related actually…

Also, well done to Wales, Northern Ireland and England for also qualifying. And well done to Italy and my Italian friends who might be reading this: you still finished top of the group, though I’m not sure playing Spain is a fair reward for that!

Anyway, less football, more English. These last few days, there’s been quite a nice yacht in Galway docks and out sailing in the bay. Apparently it’s a superyacht, according to Google. Well. it’s certainly very nice. Seeing its mast over the rooftops of the Claddagh as I’ve walked to work in the mornings has made think again about how strange the word yacht is.

Yacht.

Look at it there, with a silent ch and not caring who knows about it! It’s the only modern English word with a silent ch.

Pronouncing ch as the old Greek /k/ as in charisma, character and psyche? No problem.

Or with a soft, swishy French /ʃ/ as in machine, chef or machete? Oui, bien sûr!

But a silent ch!? It takes a really special word to get away with that. A word like yacht. Continue reading