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).
| 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 |
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?
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.
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:
Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Can you identify the language, and do you know where it’s spoken?
| 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 |
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.
Last night at the Polyglot conversation group a friend who is learning Welsh told me about the difficulties he had when trying to buy a train ticket to Dolwyddelan, a small village in the Conwy valley in North Wales. None of the ways he tried to pronounce it were understood by the ticket seller, so he ended up spelling it out. I also wasn’t sure what place he was referring to until he spelled it for me, even though I’m used to hearing mispronounced versions of Welsh place names.
In Welsh word stress almost always falls on the penultimate (last but one) syllable, so in Dolwyddelan it’s on the ddel, i.e. /dɔlʊiˈðɛlan/. If you put the stress anywhere else words just sound wrong or incomprehensible.
In languages like Welsh where there stress is usually in the same place it’s not so hard to get it right, but in languages with irregular stress placement, like English and Russian, it’s more difficult. You can try to learn where it goes in each individual word, and/or try to develop an instinct for it through extensive listening. I think I’m beginning to do his for Russian.
Here’s a recording in a mystery language.
Can you identify the language, and do you know where it’s spoken?