This essay on the English language was inspired by a preposterous source. The someone who inspired this essay departed this vale of tears more than 51 years ago and was generally known as my father. He was a laconic man who used country speak to convey his thoughts to the outside world. Country speak is a rural language based primarily on the English language with many touches of Appalachia throughout. In my father’s case, there were also influences from his Irish background. For example, he always used as his only epithet the word “bloody.” When the tappets on his engine in our Studebaker talked back, he would say, “Listen to them bloody tappets.” As a boy, I knew that this presaged a long night holding a flashlight while my father adjusted the bloody tappets with a feeler gauge.
When he spoke, he could tangle the English language into knots that could not be untied. His mispronunciations were legion. For example, the word “ought” was pronounced as “ort.” And then there was the term necessary, which the old man pronounced as “needcessity.” For all of his mispronunciations and his use of country speak, once in a while there were charming moments to his speech.
For example, he always used the term “presently” in place of the term “soon.” He ate his last meal of the day, which was called supper, no later than six o’clock and he would say, “Supper will be on the table presently.” One way or another, the term “presently” has been lost as we progress into the 21st century and I regret that.
My father and my mother were also quite religious. They shook their heads at sins such as playing baseball games on a Sunday afternoon, playing cards and ballroom dancing. Both of them knew that “We can’t go on this-a-way.” If we continued our sins this-a-way, it would mean the end of the world and only Jesus could save us. My father and mother lived nearly 80 years and they went to their graves bemoaning the sins that were taking place presently, which we all know that we shouldn’t carry on this-a-way.
There are two other instances in country speak which are of some interest and they do not inspire charm. For example, the word “help” is almost always pronounced as “hep.” A man could be changing a tire and someone would approach him and offer to “hep” him. What happened to the “l” in that word remains a thorough mystery.
Then there is one other thought about a person not being “worth a lick.” The term “lick” is also used for striking a blow. For example, when one splits wood, he strikes the wood to be split with a “heavy lick.” Somehow or another, in the country speak of my father and my mother, to a large extent, a person who was termed “not worth a lick” was in their estimation a worthless person. I also recall that when my mother encountered someone who looked sickly, she would say that “He looks peak-ed”. Peaked is pronounced in two separate syllables.
There are perhaps two or three other aspects of forgotten English that come to mind. For example, the word purgative has been replaced by the word laxative. My wife, Ms. Chicka, says that when atmospheric conditions cause a hump on the recreation room rug, it is “hoved”. The “o” in hove is meant to rhyme with the “o” in rose.
In black speech, you may notice that there is confusion between the word “they” and “their”. My companion from my days as a filling station attendant Mr. Dell Vanburen Barbee might say “The PO’-lice presented ‘they’ evidence” when he of course meant “their evidence”.
Well, so much for the vagaries of country speak. In spite of its drawbacks, it inspired this little essay. The English spoken by Americans has a broad span. There are drawls in the south and the clipped speech of New Englanders. One aspect of the speech used around Boston has to do with the intrusive “r” that is added to words like “America.” The Kennedys, for example, would pronounce the word “America” as something approaching “Amer-i-cer.” They would also pronounce “Africa” as “Africer.” In addition, folks addicted to the intrusive “r” would pronounce the name of the Fidel Castro haven as “Cuber”. The Kennedys are well-educated and I generally agree with their politics but I remain wondering why this intrusive “r” persists.
Aside from the Kennedys, the intrusive “r” also shows up in those who pronounce “Washington” as “Warshington”. Then I believe that you will find that a large number of Southerners insert the intrusive “i” in the word can’t. They say, “He cain’t do that.” My fellow Americans speak a number of dialects of the English language, all of which amuse and please me.
Then we have the difficulty that seems to afflict the speech of black Americans. In many cases the word “ask” is rendered as “ax.” This may be due to the influence of the Irish who often use the word “ax” for “ask.” A love song containing the words “I axed for her hand” might not be romantic at all.
While we are on the peculiarities of Irish speech, there are those Irishmen who have not yet conquered the “th” sound in English speech. For example, the Fureys, who have been described as the most popular singing group in Ireland, are incapable of using the “th” sound. Typically they refer to think as “tink” and thanks as “tanks.” Why this is true in the land of my ancestors is once again beyond my comprehension.
And then there is the thought that the “r” in words is not always pronounced by New Yorkers. A New Yorker might say about a homerun, “Did you see him hit that ‘homa’?” The New Yorkers ought to get together with the New Englanders and come to an agreement about the proper speech patterns.
As you can see, this is a pastiche of thoughts about the English language. There is even room for the Welsh to make a contribution. One of their songs, which is known I believe, to nearly every choir group, is “All Through the Night.” That is a lullaby whose first lines are:
Sleep, my child, may peace attend thee,
All through the night.
As a bit of a confession, I have been looking for opportunities to use the word “attend” in these essays. But no two ways about it, I approved the Welsh construction of “attend thee.”
Then there is the matter of the use of the word “right” so frequently in our speech. We speak of wrong or right, and we also refer to the right to life. A common expression is “I’ll be right there.” Then there is the case of right and left. As you can see in this short example, the rights certainly outweigh the lefts.
Well, so much for this very short exploration of the English language as spoken mostly by people on these shores. I have an affection for words like “attend thee” and “presently.” I am sorry to see them fall into disuse, much as I am sorry to see the term “yonder” no longer used.
My father got an assist in inspiration of this essay from my listening to a recording of Peter, Paul and Mary. In one selection, Mary Travers sings a song which is called “You Can Hear the Whistle Blow a Hundred Miles.” There are these lines:
Without a shirt on my back,
Without a penny to my name,
Lord, I can’t go back home this a way.
I was thinking about my father’s speech patterns before I heard that song but it reminded me of words that are now overlooked in the English language.
I once asked my great and treasured friend, Sven Lernevall, whose native tongue is Swedish, what he found attractive about the English language. Sven told me that the English language is a rich language. Apparently that is true. It can embrace country-speak on one hand and black speech as well as forgotten speech. It is a great gift to every American that English is the lingua franca of the whole world these days. For that, we owe Mother England a vote of thanks.
My father never knew of my writing essays but if he had known that, he might offer to “hep” me with my work. He might also say that the essays that are turned out at this table are “not worth a lick.” And finally, he might tell me that I “ort” to quit writing such trash and devote my thoughts to heavenly matters. Perhaps, after all these years, if I were to take his advice, I might find that peace would “attend” me. I find it difficult to take that chance so I guess I’ll continue to carry on this-a-way.
E. E. CARR
June 3, 2009
Essay 388
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Kevin’s commentary: This is the first language-based essay in a while. It seems they’ve become more common in recent years. Similarly-themed essays can be found here, here, and here. It is good to know that as time has gone by, Pop’s affection for words like “yonder” has not diminished.
The question that strikes me now, that has not struck me before while reading these types of essays, is this: since our language is necessarily going to keep evolving, and since I have a long time to live, which words are going to get “retired” in my lifetime? If I had to discern a pattern from all of these essays, I suppose the lowest-hanging-fruits are dialect specific; intuitively a word that only exists in the vocabulary of a smaller subset of people is more likely to phase out. And I guess there are medical terms too and adjustments for political correctness — for instance, I very much hope that I hear someone call something “retarded” for the last time while I am still young.
But there are still a whole slew of words that fall outside of even these broad-strokes patterns. “Presently” is standard English as near as I can tell but I’m not sure I’ve ever heard it used in everyday speech. For these types of words, I am extremely curious as to what dies off next. There’s probably a scientific way to approach that, but for my part I’ll probably just wait until I’m 80 and write an essay or two about words that I haven’t heard in a while. Seems like a good way to do it.