Orwell, Shakespeare and our promiscuous languages

Έπεα πτερόεντα. 

“Winged words”.

- Homer

 

Neither a borrower nor a lender be

 

Most native-English-speaking Britons know between 20,000 to 45,000 words. 

 

William Shakespeare knew 65,000 words.  It is estimated that he invented around 1,700 English words. 

 

The whole English language consists of around 210,000 words: of which 170,000 are in use and 40,000 are obsolete. French has 130,000 words. 

 

And yet with such a vast vocabulary, why is it, George Orwell wondered, that we are always stealing sayings from elsewhere? 

 

“Why say cul-de-sac, when you mean blind alley? Other totally unnecessary French phrases are joie de vivre, raison d’etre, vis-à-vis, tête-à-tête, and esprit de corps.  For two hundred years we got on well enough with ‘coffee house’, so do we really need the word café?” (George Orwell, Tribunemagazine, 1944).

 

Seventy-six years on, those words and phrases are still used. But borrowing and stealing also works the other way too. The French love their ‘jogging’at the ‘weekend’, and then having a ‘hot dog’ for ‘brunch’.

 

And of course, there is ‘Grenglish’ and ‘Hinglish’. 

 

My wife’s grandmother, rest her soul, used the word ‘craftissa’, to describe someone devious or manipulative; translated as: “Look out! She’s crafty, that one”.

 

A few years ago, when working in India, I was watching a football match one evening in a Mumbai hotel. I was delighted to hear the Indian commentator speaking very fast Hindi and casually, regularly pepper his analysis with ‘inch-perfect pass’, ‘double substitution’, ‘fingertip save’, ‘clean sheet’, ‘back room staff’ and ‘leading from the front’.

 

When words mean nothing

 

Orwell, again in Tribune magazine, analysed the word ‘fascist’ and declared it meaningless.  He had seen and heard it used to describe the Boy Scouts, the Police, MI5, farmers, shopkeepers, fox hunting, Kipling, supporters of the war, Conservatives, the Army, Youth Hostels, Social Credit, corporal punishment and Catholics. In his view rendering the word devoid of purpose. 

 

Another example is ‘certain’, as in the phrases “of a certain age” or “at a certain time”.  In both these cases, it means ‘uncertain’.

 

The joy of pidgin

 

In the Solomon and New Hebrides Islands of the South Pacific, pidgin English is the locally constructed patois speech pattern, and the main communication method, between inhabitants who speak different languages and dialects. 

 

Orwell took great joy in its inventiveness, humour and imagination. He noted some examples. 

 

A violin is: “One small box belong whiteman all he scratch him belly belong him sing out good fella” 

 

An aeroplane is: “Launch belong fly all same pigeon” 

 

And announcing the Coronation of King George VI: “Old King George, he dead. Number one son, Edward, he no want him clothes. Number two son he like. Bishop he make plenty talk along new King. Then bishop and plenty government official and storekeeper and soldier and bank manager and policeman, all he stand up and sing and blow him trumpet. Finish.”

 

The Bard of Stratford

 

The Japanese call him ‘Shack-a-soup-ee-a’.  The Greeks say ‘Sex-peer’

 

Here are some words William Shakespeare introduced into English that we still use 400 years on: - 

 

A foregone conclusion. Alligator. As luck would have it. Bump. Eyesore. Fair play. Foul play. For goodness' sake! Gloomy. It is early days. It's all Greek to me. Lonely. Lost property. More fool you. Mountaineer. Refused to budge an inch. Seen better days. Slept not one wink. Suffered from green-eyed jealousy. Teeth set on edge. That is the long and short of it. The game is up. Toil. Tongue-tied. Vanished into thin air. Watchdog. 

 

He also invented the “Knock-Knock” joke, in Macbeth. 

 

 

James Neophytou

(Published in the Parikiaki newspaper, 27th August 2020)