The Language Lady’s “No-Business-Like-Shoe-Business” Award for Linguistic License goes this summer to Kenneth Cole’s flagship Rockefeller store: The backdrop for the July window display had two wall-sized panels with July written in bold across the panels. On either side of July were gray-colored words that, on close inspection, were questions that used that word “July” in an unusual way:
July about your weight? July about how much you make? July about walking the dog? July about renting a house in the Hamptons? July about your age? July about what you did last night? July about the report? Why July to me?
Whoever dreamed that up deserves some major props (Didn’t know I knew rap slang popularized in the 1990’s, did you? “Props” is short for “proper respect.”) for using linguistic contraction in such a timely and seasonal manner. English is full of such contraction, or reduction, in our everyday speech: Whadja do daday? Didja hafta say that? I’m gonna letcha have it. Wanna go? Even the most articulate speakers, if they want to sound natural, use this type of reduction in their speech – or risk sounding too formal and stilted. But until the Kenneth Cole window display, I had never seen “did you lie” rendered as “July.” And in July! Nice.
Of course, we have Woody Allen to thank for this: his “Annie Hall” (1977) brought this type of speech into mass awareness. In the movie, Woody, playing the insecure, neurotic character Alvy Singer, who feels painfully aware of his “outsider” status because he is Jewish, complains to his friend about what he perceives as an anti-Semitic remark. Alvy says:
“You know, I was having lunch with some guys from NBC, so I said, 'Did you eat yet or what?' And Tom Christie said, 'No, JEW?' Not 'Did you?'...JEW eat? JEW? You get it? JEW eat?”
(www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaPBhxXhprg&feature=related)
It just so happens that in English, it’s easier to say words or syllables with “d” followed by “u” as a “j” sound. Try saying these out loud: graduation; “how bad you are;” “could you/would you …”
(Likewise, “t” + “u” creates a “tcha” sound, as in “nature,” or “congratulations,” when we say, “get you” and it sounds like “getchu.” That’s why when some people pronounce “mature” as “ma-toor” instead of “ma-tchoor” it sounds pretentious. But Dictionary.com says both pronunciations are correct.)
This kind of informal speech no doubt exists in other languages but, not being at native level in any, I can only give a few examples. Languages like Spanish and Japanese pronounce every syllable with more or less equal stress, making reduction less likely. However, in some Spanish-speaking countries, the “s” in words gets dropped before a “p” or “t” : i.e., “espantoso” will sound like “eh-pantoso” and “estado” will sound like “eh-tado;” for example, I believe Puerto Ricans do this all the time, whereas such pronunciation in Argentina will have people laughing at your baby-talk. In French, the “ne” often gets dropped in a spoken negative sentence: “Je ne sais pas” is typically heard as “je sais pas;” “je n’ai pas d’argent” is said, “J’ai pas d’argent” -- though never in writing.
The other day I overheard a very proper-French receptionist speaking on the phone, and she was apologizing to the person on the other end; but instead of saying, “Je suis desolee,” (zhe swee desolay) or “I’m sorry,” she was saying (repeatedly, with some insistence) what sounded like, “Shwee desolee.” That sound is just the sort of speech captured in a linguistically groundbreaking French book called "Zazie dans le metro" (1959) by Raymond Queneau:
“Doukipudonktan” is the first word of this antic novel (Louis Malle directed the 1960 movie), which is peppered throughout with many such strange-looking phonetic renderings of colloquial speech. Even French readers do not immediately recognize all these renderings. “Doukipudonktan” is actually “D'où qu'ils puent donc tant,” or “Why do they stink so much?” Other such compressions include: “Skeutadittaleur” = “Qu’est-ce qu’il t’a dit, alors?” or, “So what did he tell you?”; “Izont des bloudjinnzes”= “Ils sont des bluejeans,” or “They’re bluejeans;” “Kouavouar” = “Quoi a voir?” or “What’s there to see?” “Lagosamiebou” or “La gosse a mis la boue” or “The girl has flown the coop.” All this is meant to convey the very working class-ordinary joe sort of people these characters are. Same as when we write that way in English. The difference is, we do it in English all the time – in novels, ads, comic books, and in our own shorthand-style of writing (I’m gonna, do you wanna, see ya,” etc.) In French and Spanish (and no doubt other languages) this type of speech is spoken, but rarely conveyed in writing – even in comics like Asterix or Tin Tin.
So, we’re lucky: instead of my having to write, “I’ve got to go,” all I hafta write is, “Gotta go!” or, text message-style, “G2G.”
Monday, August 25, 2008
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Flip Flops
It’s almost too hot to write, much less read, a blog; but if you’ve got time and air conditioning, maybe a short one, sort of seasonal, would be okay. It’s now midsummer – and it’s midsummer in an election year, so have you noticed how “flip flops” are working overtime as both noun (sandal) and verb (to reverse one’s position on an issue)?
Once upon a time -- back when McDonald’s had just one franchise, when Bill Haley and the Comets were singing “Rock Around the Clock” on the radio -- there was no word for a cheap, thin-soled rubber sandal with a sort of curved, upside down Y separating the big toe from the rest of the toes. There wasn’t a word for it, because the “flip flop” had not yet been invented. Until then, people wore thin, canvas sneakers to the beach; and the words “flip” and “flop” were like two siblings – alike in many ways, but intrinsically totally opposite.
“Flip” is generally positive: A guy flips for a girl (and vice-versa); we flip coins and pancakes; and mastering flips from a diving board or trampoline is considered a praiseworthy talent – while belly flopping (ouch!) is not. “Flop” is generally bad: a comedian gets flop sweat when the audience doesn’t laugh; when a movie flops, heads roll in Hollywood. You don’t want hair flopping in your face, nor do you want to sleep in a flophouse. Flopping onto a couch is good but often associated with sheer fatigue, boredom, or depression.
Cut to 1957, when the “flip-flop” summer sandal was invented: The name was probably derived from the sound the backless shoe makes as you walk -- fffflp-flllllop, fffflip-fffflop. (These are also called thongs and beach shoes). Flip-flops have morphed over the years from the still available cheap and plain to the more popular snazzy, sporty, patterned – even diamond-studded. Flip flops have become such a fashion statement that in 2005 the Northwestern champion women’s lacrosse team wore flip-flops to meet President Bush at the White House, apparently not perceiving what a fashion faux pas this was – some dubbed it “The Flip-Flop Flap “ -- until they ended up in the national news. (As I had to explain to my own teenagers – their toes should have been covered; yes, even for George Bush).
But flip-flop, the verb, only recently came into everyday use: in the 2004 presidential election, presidential nominee John Kerry was seen as switching his stance on the war in Iraq, and that became known as “flip-flopping.” According to salon.com, the Republicans used Kerry’s changing positions to make him look weak and waffling, compared to what Republicans called Bush’s “firm” (as opposed to “stubborn” or “intransigent”) stance. Kerry’s flip-flopping was used against him with deadly precision -- we know who was elected.
Flip-flopping, the verb, then lay fairly dormant for the next three years until the 2008 presidential contenders hit the campaign trail last year. Early on in their runs for the nomination, Democratic contender John Edwards flip-flopped on issues, as did Republican contender Mitt Romney – as reported in multiple news articles. And not long after their flip-flops both of those “coulda-been-a-contender” contenders were has-been contenders. Flip-flopping is not good if you want to run for president. That was presumably why Hillary Clinton never voiced the slightest remorse for having voted for invading Iraq – despite the war’s unpopularity with her voter base, she did not want to be brought down by the flip-flop curse. (It was other things that brought her down instead).
These days, as both presumptive presidential nominees Barak Obama and John McCain modify, hone, or outright reverse their positions, the “flip-flop” verb has appeared attached to their names in news articles everywhere. To the press, no matter how slight or subtle a politician’s change of position may be (granted, with politicians, it’s rarely either) when a politician changes his mind for what seems to be political expedience, it’s all flip-flopping.
However, since both Obama and McCain have flip-flopped on certain issues, the curse of the flip-flop curse has been canceled out – one of the flip-floppers has to win. So you could say that whoever wins will have flipped (reversed) the flip-flop flop this time.
Once upon a time -- back when McDonald’s had just one franchise, when Bill Haley and the Comets were singing “Rock Around the Clock” on the radio -- there was no word for a cheap, thin-soled rubber sandal with a sort of curved, upside down Y separating the big toe from the rest of the toes. There wasn’t a word for it, because the “flip flop” had not yet been invented. Until then, people wore thin, canvas sneakers to the beach; and the words “flip” and “flop” were like two siblings – alike in many ways, but intrinsically totally opposite.
“Flip” is generally positive: A guy flips for a girl (and vice-versa); we flip coins and pancakes; and mastering flips from a diving board or trampoline is considered a praiseworthy talent – while belly flopping (ouch!) is not. “Flop” is generally bad: a comedian gets flop sweat when the audience doesn’t laugh; when a movie flops, heads roll in Hollywood. You don’t want hair flopping in your face, nor do you want to sleep in a flophouse. Flopping onto a couch is good but often associated with sheer fatigue, boredom, or depression.
Cut to 1957, when the “flip-flop” summer sandal was invented: The name was probably derived from the sound the backless shoe makes as you walk -- fffflp-flllllop, fffflip-fffflop. (These are also called thongs and beach shoes). Flip-flops have morphed over the years from the still available cheap and plain to the more popular snazzy, sporty, patterned – even diamond-studded. Flip flops have become such a fashion statement that in 2005 the Northwestern champion women’s lacrosse team wore flip-flops to meet President Bush at the White House, apparently not perceiving what a fashion faux pas this was – some dubbed it “The Flip-Flop Flap “ -- until they ended up in the national news. (As I had to explain to my own teenagers – their toes should have been covered; yes, even for George Bush).
But flip-flop, the verb, only recently came into everyday use: in the 2004 presidential election, presidential nominee John Kerry was seen as switching his stance on the war in Iraq, and that became known as “flip-flopping.” According to salon.com, the Republicans used Kerry’s changing positions to make him look weak and waffling, compared to what Republicans called Bush’s “firm” (as opposed to “stubborn” or “intransigent”) stance. Kerry’s flip-flopping was used against him with deadly precision -- we know who was elected.
Flip-flopping, the verb, then lay fairly dormant for the next three years until the 2008 presidential contenders hit the campaign trail last year. Early on in their runs for the nomination, Democratic contender John Edwards flip-flopped on issues, as did Republican contender Mitt Romney – as reported in multiple news articles. And not long after their flip-flops both of those “coulda-been-a-contender” contenders were has-been contenders. Flip-flopping is not good if you want to run for president. That was presumably why Hillary Clinton never voiced the slightest remorse for having voted for invading Iraq – despite the war’s unpopularity with her voter base, she did not want to be brought down by the flip-flop curse. (It was other things that brought her down instead).
These days, as both presumptive presidential nominees Barak Obama and John McCain modify, hone, or outright reverse their positions, the “flip-flop” verb has appeared attached to their names in news articles everywhere. To the press, no matter how slight or subtle a politician’s change of position may be (granted, with politicians, it’s rarely either) when a politician changes his mind for what seems to be political expedience, it’s all flip-flopping.
However, since both Obama and McCain have flip-flopped on certain issues, the curse of the flip-flop curse has been canceled out – one of the flip-floppers has to win. So you could say that whoever wins will have flipped (reversed) the flip-flop flop this time.
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