Korriganed

Korriganed are apparently small creatures that live under standing stones (dolmen/menhirs) in Brittany. They feature in one of the lessons in my Breton course and are explained thus:

“Les korrigans doivent être des êtres particulièrement petits, puisque ce mot est formé de korr, “nain”, puis du diminutif -ig puis du’un autre diminutif – obsolète aujourd’hui – -an. Il s’agit donc de “petits petits nains.”

Or

“The korrigans must be particularly small beings, since the word is formed from corr, “dwarf”, and the diminutive -ig and the another diminutive – now obsolete – -an. So they are “little little dwarfs.”

When I read the explanation in French I saw the word nain and thought it was the Welsh word for grandmother, not realising that is means dwarf or midget in French. So for a while I believed that the Korriganed were tiny grandmothers. Later I realised my mistake and discovered the actual meaning of that word.

According to legend, the Korriganed erected the standing stones in Brittany.

Do you mistake words in one language for words in another at all?

Quockerwodger

A quockerwodger

I came across the wonderful word quockerwodger on the BBC Radio 4 programme Wordaholics. Surprisingly it doesn’t appear in the OED, but on World Wide Words it is defined as “a wooden toy figure which jerks its limbs about when pulled by a string”, and also a politician whose strings are pulled by someone else.

It’s origin is uncertain and it doesn’t appear to be related to the dialect words quocken (to vomit/choke), or quocker (a man who goes harvesting at some distance from home).

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg Brezhoneg
se vendre to sell out gwerthu rhth i gyd; gwerthu’r cwbl gwerzhañ holl (?)
la sueur sweat chwys c’hwezenn
suer; transpirer to sweat chwysu c’hweziñ
suer/transpirer comme un boeuf to sweat like a pig chwysu fel mochyn/ceffyl
la scène musicale the music scene man cerddoriaeth (?)
ouvert aux éléments open to the elements agor i’r gwynt a glaw; agor i’r tywydd mawr
le pavé paving stone carreg balmant; fflacsen pavez
la gare routière/d’autobus bus station gorsaf fysus gar ar c’hirri-boutin

Pseudolanguages

One way English speakers play with English is by making into Pig Latin. This involves move the first sound of each word to the end and adding “ay”; for example Pig Latin becomes Ig-pay atin-lay. If a word starts with a vowel you might add hey, way or yay to the end. This creates a sort of pseudolanguage that sounds vaguely like Latin and can be used as a secret code, or just for fun.

I found an article today about language games like this in other languages.

I knew about Pig Latin, though had never played with, and about Verlan in French, but not about the equivalents in other languages. Have you played any of these games? Do you know of any others?

Grammar and usage

Last week a friend suggested that it is grammatically correct to say “I go to the bar now”, even if it’s more usual to say “I’m going to the bar now”. We suggested that in English as spoken in the UK the first would be considered wrong, even though it’s understandable. My friend insisted that this is down to usage rather than grammar; that the first version is grammatically correct, and that in varieties of English spoken in Uganda and other parts of East Africa, the first version is more common. We then had quite a discussion about the differences between grammar and usage.

For me grammar is a description of how a language is used, rather than a set of rules on how a language should be used. Rules in a descriptive grammar arise from usage and can change as usage changes, whereas in prescriptive grammar the rules are seen as absolute and unchanging and are based on a theoretical ideal of the language that few people actually use. What is your view on this?

The simple present tense in standard English is often used to indicate a habitual action, e.g. “I go to the pub every Thursday night”, while the continuous present tense is used for current action, e.g. “I’m going to the pub on Thursday night” (a specific instance). I hadn’t thought much about this distinction until I learnt Irish and found that there are different tense for habitual and non-habitual action: “Tá sé ag dul go dtí an teach tábhairne ar oíche Déardaoin” (He’s going to the pub on Thursday night); “Bíonn sé ag dul go dtí an teach tábhairne ar oíche Déardaoin” (He goes to the pub on Thursday night). The second version might be rendered as “He does be going to the pub on Thursday night” in Hiberno-English.

If you have learnt English as a second/foreign language, do you find the differences between the simple and continuous tenses difficult to grasp? This is likely to depend on whether there is such a distinction on your native language.

New song – A Panda in a Poncho

A panda in a poncho in a park

This is a nonsense song that I wrote in March and finally got round to recording today. It began with the sentence ‘There’s a panda in poncho playing ping-pong in the park’ and developed from there. I made up a tune, and found that it also fits to the tune of ‘She’ll be coming round the mountain’. If anyone feels like doing some illustrations for it, please do.

A Panda in a Poncho
There’s a panda in a poncho in the park
Playing ping-poing with a purple ardvaark
While a pig in a wig sings a song about a fig
And an fox washes rocks in a box.

There’s an fox washing rocks in a box
And giving a lecture about grandfather clocks
While a giraffe in a scarf has a laugh with a calf
And poodles eat noodles with a fork.

There are poodles eating noodles with a fork
While a chimp plays chess with a stork
And baboons in bonnets recite silly sonnets
And a gorilla makes faces in a mirror.

There’s a gorilla making faces in a mirror
And chatting with a cheeky chinchilla
While a goat in a boat plays bagpipes to a stoat
And a weasel weaves teasels on an easel.

Here’s a recording:

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg Brezhoneg
avoir une idée en tête; être obnublié par qch to have a bee in one’s bonnet chwilen yn dy ben
être imbu(e) de soi-même to be full of oneself bod yn llawn ohonat ti dy hunan
imbiber qch de to soak sth in gwylchu/mwydo rhwybeth mewn intrañ; spluiañ; gouzourañ
s’imbiber de to become saturated with dirlenwi efo/gyda gouzourañ
le noisetier hazel (tree) cyll kelver
la dépression; la cuvette hollow pant; cafn; ceudod izelder
le tourbillon whirlpool trobwll; pwll tro mordro(l)enn(ad); korvent; troenn-vor
le mode de comportement pattern of behaviour patrwm ymddygiad patrom emzalc’h
l’élastique (m) rubber band band rwber/lastig stirenn; lastikenn

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

On Anglesey not far from where I live, there’s a place with quite a long name: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, or Llanfairpwllgwyngyll, Llanfairpwll or Llanfair PG for short. It has the longest officially recognised place name in Europe which was contrived during the 1860s by a local man who wanted to attract visitors to the town – with great success. It was originally called Llanfair Pwllgwyngyll.

The name breaks down into the following parts:

Llanfair [[ɬanvair] = St Mary’s church
– llan = church, parish, village
– fair = mair = Mary – the m of a feminine word mutates to f in a compound like this

Pwllgwyngyll [puɬɡwɨ̞ŋɡɨ̞ɬ] = hollow of white hazel trees
– pwll = pool, pit, hollow
– gwyn = white
– gyll = cyll = hazel trees

gogery = near the (not entirely sure about this part)
go [ɡo] = under (?)
ger [ɡɛr] = near
y [ə] = the

chwyrndrobwll = rapid whirpool
– chwyrn [χwərən] = rapid
– drobwll [drobuɬ] = trobwll = whirpool (tro = to turn, pwll = pool)

Llantysilio [ɬantɨ̞siljo] = St Tysilio’s church

gogogoch = (of the) red cave
gogo [ɡoɡo] = ogof = cave
goch [ɡoːχ] = coch = red

This post was requested by André Bosch.