Category Archives: Yanks vs. Brits

Could you, would you, won’t you please?

 

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It’s giving time in the US: public radio stations, which depend on member support for their operating and programming costs, put out their proverbial begging bowls at this time of year, asking listeners to dig deep and donate whatever they can. “The ask” is often creative and entertaining; the message, however, is always the same: “Could you, would you, won’t you please …?” Making a request of anyone — especially for money — is a delicate matter, and we all want to do it as politely as possible. The question is: which of those words — could, would, or won’t (or even will or can) — is most polite? Or are they interchangeable? Continue reading

Capitalizing and pronouncing Ebola (and the naming of other diseases)

ebola

There’s an epidemic in West Africa, and the dreaded “E” word is on everyone’s lips and keypads. But here’s a question: does the devastating disease deserve its capital E, and if so, why? When we write about salmonella or influenza (or flu for short), diabetes or rabies, we don’t crown the names of these deadly scourges with capital initial letters. Why does Ebola get special treatment?

The AP Stylebook explains it simply: “Capitalize a disease known by name of person or geographical area: Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease, Ebola virus.” Ebola was named after a tributary of the Congo River in Zaire (now called the Democratic Republic of the  Congo), near which the virus was first identified, so it can claim its status as a proper name for life.

And how should we pronounce the name of this awful virus? According to NPR’s standards and practices editor, Mark Memmott, as posted on NPR’s Tumblr, it should be “ee-BOH-luh” (rather than “eh-BOH-la”). But as Memmott advised in his internal memo to NPR colleagues: “It’s important to note that this is guidance, not a dictate from on high. We want to say things correctly, but we also realize that we have correspondents from around the world and that when they speak they may say some things differently. In this case, NPR’s Ofeibea Quist-Arcton is from Ghana. She says ‘eh-BOH-la.’ It’s natural to her. We wouldn’t want to try to force her to say ‘ee-BOH-luh’.” Ebola means “Black River” in Lingala, the language of the DRC’s northwestern region where the tributary can be found. But since Zaire was a Belgian colony between 1908 and 1960, the name of the river has probably been pronounced historically in a French way — i.e. “ay-BOH-luh” (with the sound of an acute accent on the initial E), so “eh” probably best approximates how the name’s first syllable sounded when the virus was first identified and named in the early ’70s. Oxford Dictionaries lists both pronunciations (“eh” and “ee”) in its pronunciation guide.

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While we’re on the subject of naming diseases, here’s another question: is it necessary to keep the apostrophe and possessive ‘s’ in diseases named after those who discovered them? Down’s syndrome, Asperger’s syndrome, Parkinson’s disease and Crohn’s disease are a few examples; is it now more common to refer to them as Down syndrome or Crohn disease? The blog Separated by a common language explains that this actually depends nowadays on which side of the Atlantic you’re on: it’s a little-known British-American usage difference. Quoting Len Leshin, MD from the Down Syndrome: Health Issues site, Separated clarifies the thinking behind this curious usage development:

“Many medical conditions and diseases have been named after a person; this type of name is called an eponym. There has been a long-standing debate in the scientific community over whether or not to add the possessive form to the names of eponyms. For quite a long time, there was no established rule as to which to use, but general usage decided which form is acceptable. So you saw both possessive and non-possessive names in use.”In 1974, a conference at the US National Institute of Health attempted to make a standard set of rules regarding the naming of diseases and conditions. This report, printed in the journal Lancet, stated: “The possessive form of an eponym should be discontinued, since the author neither had nor owned the disorder.”(Lancet 1974, i:798) Since that time, the name has traditionally been called “Down syndrome” in North America (note that “syndrome” isn’t capitalized). However, the change has taken longer to occur in Great Britain and other parts of Europe, for reasons that aren’t quite clear to me.”

For a fascinating history of Down’s syndrome and how it got its name (it was originally called “Mongolism”), read this post on Virtual Linguist.

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Epidemic or endemic?

What exactly is the difference between epidemic and endemic? Although they’re often confused with each other, they have distinctly different meanings.

Epidemic — although it sounds more like an adjective and can be used as such — is more widely heard in its noun form, meaning “a widespread occurrence of an infectious disease in a community at a particular time” or “a sudden, widespread occurrence of a particular undesirable phenomenon” (OED). So the word is completely appropriate to describe the current outbreak in West Africa, while we can also talk about the epidemic of sexting in teenagers or the epidemic of online identity theft.

“A fashion is nothing but an induced epidemic.” — George Bernard Shaw

Endemic is more often heard as an adjective, despite being a noun too, but it is not the adjectival form of epidemic, as is often mistakenly thought. It describes a disease or condition “habitually present in a certain area as a result of permanent local factors; of common occurrence; rife.” And when describing a plant or animal, it means “native to, and especially restricted to, a certain country or area” (OED). So a condition or disease that is endemic isn’t necessarily widespread, rampant or epidemic: the word is focused more on the common and localized nature of the phenomenon than on its prevalence or severity, which might indeed be slight.

“Even modern English people are imperious, superior, ridden by class. All of the hypocrisy and the difficulties that are endemic in being British also make it an incredibly fertile place culturally. A brilliant place to live. Sad but true.”
— Pete Townshend

Pandemic describes “a widespread epidemic that might affect entire continents or even the world: e.g. the Black Death in Europe and AIDS in sub-Saharan Africa.” Thankfully Ebola isn’t yet in this category, although the fear is that it could spread to other parts of Africa (and further afield), becoming the first great pandemic of the 21st century. We all hope fervently that this will not be the case.

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In the news … (Oct 10)

HughGrant

 

TGIF. In language usage and abusage news this fortnight: Hugh Grant’s new character offers an English lesson; David Remnick talks about the New Yorker‘s copy-editors; a French MP is fined for using sexist grammar; a new documentary about grammar; and the superiority of paper over digital in book-reading … Continue reading

Glossophilia’s top 21 posts

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Celebrating its 70,000th visitor earlier today, Glossophilia brings you its 21 most popular posts so far. Subjects include Cockney Rhyming Slang and other quirky Englishisms; contranyms and homophones; when to use which and when to use that; British tea – when is it low and when is it high? and British school – when is it public and when is it private?; some modern words like yolo and like, and a not-so-modern one: dildo. And, of course, some American-British differences that we can never get enough of — this time in the kitchen pantry  …

Enjoy (them)! Continue reading

Latin littlies, i.e. e.g., cf., P.S., vs., & q.v., etc. etc. etc.

kramerv

Latin is technically dead: no-one speaks it any more. But we would be so lost if we couldn’t use Latin’s littlies — those handy abbreviations that pepper our written and spoken communications, i.e. e.g., cf., P.S., n.b., etc. etc.

As seemingly benign as they are tiny, these shortcuts actually carry their own little interesting confusions and usage questions, which we don’t usually stop to think about. Since the abbreviations are there to save time and keystrokes, why waste any more time on them?

Let’s take Roe v. Wade, the landmark decision by the U.S. Supreme Court, which prompted a hugely important national debate that continues to this day: how should we abbreviate the word versus, and how do we pronounce it when we’re saying it aloud? Should it be written as Roe v. Wade, Roe vs. Wade, Roe v Wade, or Roe vs Wade? Or even, possibly, Roe versus Wade? And should it be said aloud as “Roe versus Wade” or “Roe vee Wade”? These are big questions… Continue reading

To take or not to take an object: verbs that used to just do are starting to do something too

grow

It’s a strange verb, to grow. Usually we talk about things or people growing intransitively — ie. without an object. “The size of the crowd grew.” “She has grown so tall.” “The government’s power is growing.” There’s really no limit to what can grow, on its own, in an intransitive sense. However, when it comes to using the verb transitively — ie. when we’re talking about “growing something“, rather than seeing it grow under its own steam, then most bets are suddenly off: we only grow transitively when we’re referring to natural, living things. We grow plants, flowers and our own food; we grow beards, and our hair; we even grow pot-bellies — whether we like it or not. But it’s only recently that the transitive use of the verb itself has begun to grow: now embracing  inanimate objects and abstract items, grow is beginning to mean “expand” — and you can grow anything from your circle of friends to an economy or an international corporation’s revenue (whereas before they grew only intransitively). The New York Times Manual of Style and Usage advises against this growing trend of growing anything unnatural transitively: “The newer usage of grow to mean expand (grow the business; grow revenue) is business jargon, best resisted.”

Disappear is another dodgy suspect when it comes to its transitive use. Continue reading

TGIF : That Gerund Is Funky (Aug 29)

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TGIF. In language and usage news this fortnight: grammar rules that can sometimes be broken; a socialite’s guide to elegant expletives; a mispronunciation leads to the renaming of a TV show (if only briefly); the fading art of diagramming sentences; and a childhood spelling error of adult proportions.

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“You shudder at a split infinitive, know when to use ‘that’ or ‘which’ and would never confuse ‘less’ with ‘fewer’ – but are these rules always right, elegant or sensible?” In The Guardian, linguist Steven Pinker identifies 10 ‘grammar rules’ it’s OK to break (sometimes). Continue reading

Who pronounces foreign words more correctly: Yanks or Brits?

swords

Nowadays it seems to be good etiquette to pronounce loanwords as closely to their native pronunciation as possible. So how do the Yanks and Brits fare comparatively in the face of this challenge? Brits are known to lean more  towards pronouncing words literally/phonetically as their English spellings prescribe, whatever their origins; Americans, on the other hand, are more bravely inclined to try and approximate the original pronunciation — even if the attempt is ultimately misguided. (The subject of “hyperforeignisms is tackled further down — and Eddie Izzard puts in his two cents too.) As well as the particular sound of the word’s vowels and consonants, it’s also a matter of syllable emphasis that helps determine how much a word sounds like its foreign forebears. 

Although Americans and Brits tend to agree on the pronunciation of most of their linguistic immigrants, there are a number of words that we approach differently depending on which side of the Atlantic we’re from. Here’s a selection of those words, and I’ve denoted with a larger flag the nation that seems to come closer to the original pronunciation (based on both sounds and syllable emphasis). Strangely enough, despite the theory above about Brits sticking to their own phonetic rules, 9 of the 16 words below are pronounced more “authentically” by the Brits, at least by my reckoning. Go figure.

herb:    unionjack HERB        usflag  ERB

 

croissant:   unionjack  KWAH-song        usflag kruh-SAHNT

 

valet:    unionjack  VAL-lett        usflag  val-LAY 

 

fillet:   unionjack  FILL-uht         usflag  fi-LAY

 

mauve:  unionjack  MOHV (rhymes with drove)       usflag  MOV

 

crepe:  unionjack  CREP          usflag  CRAYP

 

address (noun, postal sense):  unionjack  a-DRESS       usflag  ADD-ress

 

cigarette:   unionjack  si-guh-RET       usflag  SI-guh-ret

 

paella:    unionjack  pah-YEAH-luh       usflag   pah-YAY-yuh

 

basil:   unionjack  BAZ-il         usflag BAY-zil

 

lieutenant:  unionjack  lef-TEN-uhnt       usflag  loo-TEN-uhnt 

 

humo(u)r:  unionjack   HYOO-muh         usflag   YOO-murr

 

Van Gogh:  unionjack  van-GOKH (like “loch”, Lochness) or van-GOFF    usflag  van-GO

 

schedule:    unionjack  SHED-yool       usflag  SKED-yool

 

Risotto:    unionjack  rih-ZOT-toe       usflag  rih-ZOH-toe

 

Pasta:   unionjack  PASS-tuh (“pass” like “lass”)      usflag  PAH-stuh

 

Please add other words to the comments section below.

Now we come to “hyperforeignisms”: this is where English-speakers try unsuccessfully to emulate the pronunciation of the word’s original language — by getting either the country of origin or the native pronunciation wrong.

Take the word parmesan. Although it names an Italian cheese, it actually derives its spelling from French and therefore should sound like PARM-uh-zan (and that’s how Brits verbalize the stuff they sprinkle on their spaghetti). However, it is often mispronounced as parm-uh-ZHAHN by Americans, who are presumably trying to approximate the Italian name for the cheese — parmigiano, which is pronounced parm-uh-ZHAHN-o in Italian). Sorry guys: it’s a French word.

Lingerie is another one. Americans often call their intimate clothing luhn-juh-RAY — making the final syllable sound like the many French loanwords that end in -é, -er, -et and -ez  and are pronounced “-AY”. Yes, lingerie is a French word. But it ends in ‘ie’ – and that sounds like ‘ee’, not ‘ay’. Oy. Repartee also falls into this category: even though it’s from the French word repartie (which sounds like party with a “re” in front), it’s often pronounced by Americans as reparTAY.

Here’s an interesting one. Forte — when referring to a personal strength, something you’re especially good at (or, in fencing, the strongest part of a sword) — comes from the French word, meaning “strong”, and therefore the final ‘e’ should be silent: “FORT”. This shouldn’t be confused with the Italian word forte, which means loud, whose final ‘e’ is pronounced “AY”. But we all say FORT-ay when we’re talking about our personal strengths — just proving that pronunciation isn’t necessarily one of them. Hey — it sounds foreign, so surely we must be saying it correctly.

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Let’s give Eddie Izzard the last word on this subject of pronunciation. Take it away, Eddie:

Jolly hockey sticks, and other jolly posh stuff

Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge Visits St Andrew's School

Do you ever have the urge to talk like a posh git Brit? When the need to sound like an overgrown English public schoolboy overwhelms you, just pepper your language with some of the following words and expressions – most of which are horribly outdated and only uttered nowadays by non-Brits pretending to be posh Brits — and you’ll be  well on your way to becoming a toff, a pompous twit, or a good old-fashioned Hooray Henry in no time at all. Jeeves and Wooster would be proud. Bottoms up, old boy!

By George! By golly! By ginger! By gosh!: Basically a posh old version of OMG! The “minced oath” or exclamation dates from the early 1600s, when “George” and the other g-words were used as substitutes for God to avoid blasphemy. The expression started off as “for George” or “before George,” according to the Oxford English Dictionary. The OED’s earliest example is from Ben Jonson’s 1598 play Every Man in His Humor: “I, Well! he knowes what to trust to, for George.” Here’s Henry Higgins, in one of the expression’s more famous examples: Continue reading

Faff, naff, chuffed and nous(e)

naff

Faff, naff, chuffed and nous (rhyming with mouse). Oh dear: I’m going to miss Blighty.

“We’ve been sat in the car park for a good 15 minutes, faffing about with the satnav and trying to make Rupert’s new phone work.” — The Telegraph reporters at Glastonbury

“We will leave to one side the subtle humour – or otherwise – of Mr Cleese’s performance in the naff Pierce Brosnan Bond film Die Another Day.” — The Telegraph about 007’s latest

“’I’m afraid I have to default on these bonds.’ ‘No you do not!’ ‘Naff off, Gringo…'” — International Financing Review wondering what power a US court should have to determine whether a foreign sovereign nation can or cannot declare its ability to pay its debts. 

Chuffed to bits – Lewes Railway Station looks blooming lovely for summer” — Sussex Express on the transformation of Lewes Railway Station’s gardens and planters

“Former England striker Gary Lineker has expressed his belief that the Three Lions lacked tactical nous on the field in their World Cup defeats.” — Sports Mole on the World Cup.

Yeah — these colloquialisms are Britishisms at their very best. You’ll hear them only on one side of the Atlantic — the more eccentric side — but by gum do they do the trick for anyone who cares to use them. Isn’t faffing around just the perfect expression for that thing we all do sometimes when we’re very busy achieving sod all?

Here’s what the words mean and where they come from. And below them are 18 more that are equally expressive and quirky — and peculiar to us limeys.

Continue reading