Showing posts with label ambiguity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ambiguity. Show all posts

Monday, September 28, 2009

Word Play

My husband, like me, is a linguist; unlike me, he prefers to use his linguistic abilities to study any language other than English.  I like to learn other languages, but when it comes to dissecting and analyzing language, I prefer English because it absolutely fascinates me.  Its history, its vocabulary, its quirky sentences that don't follow any pattern expected in the language, its word play. . .

Originally, this post dedicated to word play was prompted by an episode of I Love Lucy.  In one episode, Ricky promises Lucy that he will buy her a mink stole.  When Lucy tells Ethel about the stole, Ethel comments on how expensive it must be, and Ricky begins to tell her that he will be getting the stole wholesale.  Lucy, knowing what he is going to say, kicks Ricky in the shin to keep him quiet.  Afterwards, Ricky tells Lucy, "Don't kick the shin that stoles you."  How great is it that we can say such a sentence in English?  One of the many reason I love the sitcom is the use of word play to make jokes.  Ethel leaves a room, saying she's going to "put on a new face," and Fred crosses his fingers, saying he hopes it works this time because every time she says that she always comes back with the old one.  Ethel comments that Ricky and Fred are cut from the same mold, and Lucy replies, "Yeah, and they're getting moldier all the time."  The examples go on and on.

However, since this blog is devoted to books and reading, I couldn't let the entire post be about word play examples from a TV show.  I promised myself I wouldn't write this post until I had a good example from a book, and yesterday morning, Bridget Jones's Diary, which is also the current "Book of the Week" (see the left sidebar), gave me such an example (taken from page 50):




***
I made a complete arse of myself today, though.  I got in the lift to go out for a sandwich and found Daniel in there with Simon from Marketing, talking about footballers being arrested for throwing matches.  "Have you heard about this, Bridget?" said Daniel.

"Oh yes," I lied, groping for an opinion.  "Actually, I think it's all rather petty.  I know it's a thuggish way to behave, but as long as they didn't actually set light to anyone I don't see what all the fuss is about."

Simon looked at me as if I was mad and Daniel stared for a moment and then burst out laughing.
***

How could anyone not love analyzing a language that allows such extensive play with its words?  Whether it's misunderstanding phrases like "throwing matches" and taking them literally or making a verb out of a noun like "the shin that stoles you," English offers its speakers/writers the ability to be creative and have fun while using it.

Historically, the ability to use words as more than one part of speech in English until Middle English, when the language was losing inflections on its words, making it so a noun could look like a verb or adjective and, thus, could be used as either in creative ways.  Many of our "new" words in English are actually old words used in new ways.  One such example appeared in the Anchorage Daily News on July 28, 2009: "Rain was also expected to cause water to pond in low-lying areas across the Kenai."  When I read that sentence the first time, I had to read it through several times before understanding it because I had never heard "pond" used as a verb before.  The American Dialect Society nominates and then votes for the Words of the Year--most of which are old words/phrases that are being used in new ways.  One of my favorites is the 2006 Word of the Year: plutoed, meaning "to demote or devalue someone or something."  I've not actually used the word in my speech yet, but perhaps I will find something to pluto in the near future. . .

Do you have any favorite instances of English word play?  Or, at the least, any recent instances that you've noticed?

Happy reading, and happy searching for interesting instances of word play!

Monday, September 14, 2009

Budding Linguist

Children's books inspire language play.  Kids most likely have no idea just how fun the language can be in the books they are reading, yet that language fun can open doors of interest.

I already said I went on adventures with Amelia Bedelia as a child, one of my favorites being the hardback version of Amelia Bedelia and the Surprise Shower.  Its tired red edges and faded front picture showed its age, but the inside of the book was pristine (even at a young age, I took care of my books).  One of the great things about Amelia Bedelia books is that they show off the fun you can have with ambiguity in the English language.  In the surprise shower book, Amelia is one of the guests for a surprise wedding shower.  What does Amelia bring with her to the shower?  A hose, of course.  After all, what is a shower without water spraying over all the guests?  Amelia has a tendency to take things quite literally, which leaves kids shaking in laughter and people like me amazed at the quirkiness of our language.  Reading books that explore the nooks of language planted a seed that would grow much later in life when I found out that there was a whole study devoted to having fun with language (linguistics).

As I read to my son, I notice the many ways children's books play with language that, sadly, adult books do not always do.  Take alliteration, for example.  While reading a book about the Backyardigans (Super Senses Save the Day!) to my son, the massive amount of alliteration made the story more fun to read out loud.  One great alliterative sentence is "The alarm sounded, and the four Super Senses skidded to the scene."  The author, Irene Kilpatrick, included many such alliterations that make some sentences roll right off your tongue and others like tongue twisters that make you work for the correct pronunciation.  Anyone who thinks that writing children's books must be easy should first look at all the elements the authors have to think about, starting with how to make the language fun for a child to listen to.  I especially like the authors/script writers who work on the Backyardigans--how could I not love a group of singing and dancing animals whose songs have words like "duplicitous" worked into them?

A lot of adult books don't have that quality of readability about them.  One author whose work I've noticed lately that does have that quality is Sir Conan Doyle.  His Sherlock Holmes stories and books were meant to be read aloud, and I find myself whispering the words as I read because they also roll right off my tongue, with poetic stress patterns, alliteration, and even some near rhymes.  Not all books need language that begs to be read out in front of an attentive audience, but I sometimes wonder if I would be more willing to listen to stories or books on tape (er, CD) if the language of modern-day books were more "listener-friendly."

Last night, my husband leaned over my shoulder and started reading out loud from the pages of the book in my hand; I shut the book and asked him to stop.  If I had been holding a Sherlock Holmes book, I would have been inclined to hand him the book, ask him to keep going, and let myself float away on sentential tides ... "I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a very stout, florid-faced elderly gentleman with fiery red hair.  With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door behind me." ...

(Excerpt taken from "The Red-Headed League")

Happy reading, whether it be aloud or to yourself!