Weekend Word Wrap: The development of American English

I'd like to start this post by taking a breath so that we might all reflect on the last 6 months; just to note our blog's development and allow ourselves to take it in, to feel ever so slightly self-congratulatory, as a group "“ you, our loyal readers, and us, your loyal bloggers. Yes, we've come a long way since those incipient posts back in the early summer -- and it's high time someone said so.

Ready, set, reflect:

Having done that, let's get on with the Word Wrap, which, today, will give you something else to reflect on: the early development of our English language. Well, not all 15 centuries, "˜cause you certainly need not bother yourselves with the Jutes invasion of Britain ca. 400. And we might as well skip over the destruction of Lindisfarne in 790 on the northeast coast of England, which signaled the start of the Norse raids, which continued until the year 1050. And why on EARTH would anyone waste your time rattling on about the Black Death, which killed many of the ruling classes, contributing to the rise in status of the English working man, who spoke neither French nor Latin, y...A...w...n

No, all you really need to know about the early development of our language is this: in the early 1600s, the Brits arrived in Virginia and brought with them some pretty funky fashions, as well as some sexy accents, some of which are still around today. (The accents, not the getups.) (Though come to think of it, I have seen some folk in LA wearing cloaks recently. So perhaps they're making a comeback.) Read more about the accents after the jump.

This comes from a cool book I read recently called Does Anything Eat Wasps:

The first permanent English immigrants to North America settled in Jamestown, Virginia, in 1607, while 13 years later the Pilgrim Fathers landed further north at what is now Plymouth, Massachusetts. The Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language by David Crystal tells us that these two settlements had different linguistic consequences for the development of American English. The Jamestown colonists came mainly from England's West Country and spoke with the characteristic burr of these countries. This pattern can still be heard in some of the communities of the Jamestown region, especially Tangier Island in Chesapeake Bay. Because of the relative isolation of this area, this "Tidewater" accent has change only slightly in 400 years and is sometimes said to be the closest we will ever get to the sound of Shakespearean English.

The Plymouth colonists, by contrast, came from eastern England. These accents dominated in what is now New England, and their speech patterns are still the main influence in this area.

So remember that next time you park your car in Harvard yard.

6 Wordsmiths Who Couldn't Spell

This month marks my 6-year anniversary blogging for mental_floss. It also marks mentalfloss.com's 6-year anniversary in the blogosphere. To celebrate the more than 2,000 daily posts, I'll be republishing some of my favorite posts from these last half-dozen years, starting today, running to the end of the month. Hope you enjoy this stroll down memory lane...

(Originally published on Feb. 3, 2009)

1. Alfred Mosher Butts

Best known for: inventing Scrabble (first called Lexiko, and then later, Criss Cross Words)
But did you know: We owe our Scrabble addictions to the Depression? Butts was an architect who suddenly found himself unemployed. With nothing but time on his hands, he set about to invent a board game (he must have been, er, bored, without work).
So how bad was his spelling? By his own admission, Butts says he wasn't a good speller, and was delighted when his Scrabble score hit 300. Apparently his wife Nina, a former school teacher, usually outplayed him.

2. William Faulkner

faulkner.jpgBest known for: his stream of consciousness technique in such celebrated novels as his 1929 classic, The Sound and the Fury
But did you know: the title of the novel comes from a Macbeth soliloquy? "It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
So how bad was his spelling? One of Faulkner's editors at Random House, Albert Erskine, said, "I know that he did not wish to have carried through from typescript to printed book his typing mistakes, misspellings (as opposed to coinages), faulty punctuation and accidental repetition. He depended on my predecessors, and later on me, to point out such errors and correct them; and though we never achieved anything like a perfect performance, we tried."

3. F. Scott Fitzgerald

f-scott-fitzgerald-1921.jpgBest known for: The Great Gatsby
But did you know: The novel didn't sell well during Fitzgerald's lifetime? (fewer than 25,000 copies)
So how bad was his spelling? Preeminent American literary critic Edmund Wilson described This Side of Paradise as "one of the most illiterate books of any merit ever published."

4. Ernest Hemingway

hemingway.jpgBest known for: those great stoic characters, like Robert Jordan in the 1940 novel For Whom the Bell Tolls
But did you know: Hemingway was decorated as a hero after being injured during WWI? And served as a war correspondent in both the Spanish Civil War and WWII? (in case you ever wondered how he got all those Spanish Civil War details down so well in For Whom the Bell Tolls)
So how bad was his spelling? Whenever his newspaper editors complained about it, he'd retort, "Well, that's what you're hired to correct!"

5. John Keats

john-keats.jpgBest known for: the 1820 poem, Ode on a Grecian Urn
But did you know: tuberculosis took the young Keats in 1821, at only 26 years of age? The same disease had already claimed his mother and younger brother.
So how bad was his spelling? In a letter to his great love Fanny Brawne, Keats spelled the color purple, purplue. This generated a longer conversation between the two, as Keats tried to save face by suggesting he'd meant to coin a new portmanteaux - a cross between purple and blue.

6. Jane Austen

HI08_JaneAusten_1.jpgBest known for: her elegant novels, like Pride and Prejudice, published in 1813
But did you know: she'd actually written the novel a good 15 years earlier, under the title First Impressions, but the publisher rejected it? (Let this be a lesson to all ye aspiring writers!) Then, after Sense and Sensibility was published in 1811, there was interest in the older story, which, after some editing, was eventually published with the title we know today.
So how bad was her spelling? She once misspelled one of her teenage works as "Love and Freindship" and is infamously known to have spelt scissors as scissars.

Check out all past Weekend Word Wraps>>

Phrase Origins: The Real McCoy and On The Wagon

We use these hackneyed expressions all the time (hence the hackneyed element), but where do they come from? I’m reviving the Weekend Word Wrap feature from years ago to take a look at a couple each week or so. First up, The Real McCoy.

The Real McCoy

Our version is actually a variation of the original Scottish phrase dating back to the mid 19th century, “A drappie o’ the real MacKay" What’s interesting here is that the ay in MacKay is actually pronounced like “eye.”
But what about the real meaning? Well, there are a few interesting theories. The first refers to a brand of fine whisky that was made in Scotland in the 1850s and then was marketed as 'the real MacKay' starting in 1870. Another theory involves Elijah McCoy, a Canadian inventor who was educated in Scotland, who invented a successful machine for lubricating engines that wound up spawning myriad copies, all inferior to the original. The design was patented in 1872.

On The Wagon

The term “On The Wagon” also has a few origin stories but my favorite derives from prisoners who were on their way to jail on the back of a wagon. They were allowed one last drink in the local pub before the enforced temperance inside their cells. The other popular one, and the one many say is more accurate (though one can never be sure) is about being "on the water wagon." Back in the day, water wagons would come through town hosing down the streets to keep the dust from getting out of hand. So if you were sitting atop this wagon, you were drinking water, not alcohol.

Have any phrases or expressions you want me to take a look at next week? Leave your suggestions in the comments below.

Check out past Weekend Word Wraps here.


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