Herbstlaubtrittvergnügen

In typical British fashion I’m going to start this blog by referencing the weather. When I woke up this morning (one hour earlier than normal as the clocks had gone back), the skies were blue and clear. Having been warned that ‘stormageddon’ is due to make landfall tonight, we decided to make the most of the sunshine and take a walk in Greenwich Park. As we were walking, I felt a sudden burst of what can only be described as Herbstlaubtrittvergnügen – a joy of kicking through piles of leaves.

Unfortunately, this isn’t a real word. It’s something that Ben Schott made up in his new book ‘Schottenfreude: German Words for the Human Condition’ – you can read (and listen to) excerpts from the book here. For a language geek like me, this book is a dream. One of my favourite things about German is the way you can just tack words together to create whole new words. The 63-letter long Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz is a prime (pardon the pun) example of this, though unfortunately it ceased to exist earlier this year.

Herbstlaubtrittvergnügen prompted me to do a bit more research on ‘untranslatable’ words (and by that I mean words that don't have a one-to-one match – all words can be translated, of course). Two of my favourites on this list are the Inuit word iktsuarpok, which is the sense of anticipation that makes you go outside and check to see if anyone is coming, and the Spanish term sobremesa, which means to hang around after a meal and chat to the people you ate with.

I think it’s interesting that these cultures felt the need to create these words in the first place. The Inuit people live in very remote areas, and probably don’t get that many visitors – so I imagine the sense of anticipation they feel when they think someone’s coming to visit is indeed great. And we all know the Spanish are a very sociable lot who love their food. So sobremesa (literally ‘about the table’) is probably a national pastime.

It’s a bit like phubbing I suppose – words only ever come into existence if there’s a need for them. So next time you’re left wondering why there isn’t a word for something you’re trying to say, why not just make it up instead? 

He, she or they?

Reading this article the other day reminded me of one of my biggest bugbears. It’s when people are so afraid of discriminating that they insist on writing the clunky and awkward ‘he or she’ and ‘his or her’ rather than using ‘they’ and ‘their’.

But would you ever say that out loud? ‘I’ll phone the person at the shop, but I’m not sure he or she will have those fluffy giant pandas in stock?’ Or, ‘Everyone should bring his or her homework to class so that he or she can present it.’ No, probably not. So why write it?

Our language is constantly evolving, and with it our impression of what is ‘grammatical’. That's why the singular form of ‘you’ – ‘thou’ – was squeezed out some time ago and replaced by the plural ‘you’ (except for in some parts of Northern England and Scotland where ‘thou’ is still used, but that’s a different blog altogether). So what’s stopping us from using ‘they’ in the singular too?

We won’t be the first. As the Guardian article points out, great writers such as Shakespeare and Lewis Carroll weren’t afraid to use the singular ‘they’. And I found this in Oxford Dictionaries online:

“Some people object to the use of plural pronouns in this type of situation on the grounds that it’s ungrammatical. In fact, the use of plural pronouns to refer back to a singular subject isn’t new: it represents a revival of a practice dating from the 16th century. It’s increasingly common in current English and is now widely accepted both in speech and in writing.”

And with that ends my first sort-of-grammar rant. There will be more, I promise.

Then came the text messages

Here’s a (not so nice) little update on the ‘Go home’ debacle. Turns out the UKBA/Home Office has now sent 40,000 texts demanding that people leave the country. Of course, this has sparked outrage over how much the messages may have cost UK taxpayers. But for me the best (read ‘worst’) part is what the texts actually say:

“Message from the UK Border Agency. You are required to leave the UK as you no longer have right to remain.”

Apparently those who received the texts included several hundred people who have lived in Britain for decades and do have the right to remain. Can you imagine? If I got a text like this, my first thought would be ‘erm, how do they have my number?’ The second would be ‘why do they think it’s okay to talk to me like this?’ And then I’d promptly delete the message. It really does beggar belief that such a huge, important authority as the Home Office has made such a mess of this.

Phubbing: the birth of a word

I phub, and I expect you do too. On the bus, at home, in a bar. Everyone’s at it, phubbing.

If you’re wondering how a new, trendy word like this came about, watch this short video. Turns out McCann Melbourne made it up for the Macquarie Dictionary in Australia. With the help of a few experts, of course, including a cruciverbalist (that's someone who makes up crosswords for a living, duh). I love phubbing – the word that is. And I applaud such a clever marketing stunt.

NB: This blog does not in any way encourage phubbing at all. It is a very rude and bad bad thing – see this website for some terrifying stats if you don't believe me.

Go home and reconsider those ads

Last week I was relieved to read that the Advertising Standards Authority had banned the ‘Go home or face arrest’ ads sent out in London by the Home Office. But I’m baffled about why they aren’t considered ‘offensive and irresponsible’ – just ‘misleading’.

London is one of the most diverse and vibrant cities on the planet – something that anyone who lives here will tell you is one of the best things about it.

And of course illegal immigration isn’t good – but this is completely the wrong way to go about dealing with it.

Anyone with an ounce of sense can see these ads would only give nutters like the BNP more fodder, fuel tensions in local communities, and put the fear of god into immigrants – including some who are possibly fleeing horrors in their own country. How is any of that helpful?

But also, from a marketing perspective, since when was this type of manipulative messaging considered effective? Did the person who came up with the concept give thought to their audience and the situations some of them might be in? Or think about the wider repercussions of this sort of scaremongering? Did they even think at all?

Of course, this isn’t the only marketing blunder the Home Office has made of late – check out these posters in their Glasgow and Hounslow immigration reporting centres. They include uber-helpful messages like ‘The plane can take you home. We can book the tickets’. Fantastic stuff, isn’t it?

I’m glad that the ‘Go home’ posters have got the boot and won’t be rolled out to the rest of the UK. But it still worries me that someone even came up with the campaign, let alone signed it off. Sort it out Ms May.

Hats off to Romania

Remember all that hoo-ha about how Romanians and Bulgarians were going to come over and steal all our jobs once work restrictions were lifted? At one point there was even talk of the UK government advertising over there to counter immigration. Well, now Romania’s fighting back with this website, which encourages Brits to visit – or even set up home – in their country.

I think it’s a brilliant response. After all, how would you feel if the world suddenly started dissing your country and suggesting everyone wanted out?

My favourite feature of the site by far is the ‘More reasons to come over’. These include arguments like ‘Our draft beer is less expensive than your bottled water’, ‘Summer here lasts three months, not three hours’, and ‘We speak better English than anywhere you’ve been in France’.

Having been in Romania earlier this year, I can vouch for all these points. What’s more, the people there are really very nice. Okay, parts of Bucharest could do with a makeover and the country definitely has a stray dog problem. But given it was still under the leadership of a communist dictator until 1989, it has come a long way.
(FYI, apparently people were forced to abandon their dogs when old apartment buildings were torn down to make room for new high rises in the 1970s).

So I say we give Romania a break, and Bulgaria for that matter. And when you’re planning your next holiday, think about visiting there. The Transylvania forests are one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.

Quite a word

I think it’s fair to say that ‘quite’ is quite a problematic word. At least it is if you’re one half of an Anglo-American couple.

My husband recently dropped the Q-bomb while we were at a friend’s house for dinner – in an attempt to compliment her on the meal. He said, “That was quite good”. Luckily she knew he meant well and we were able to laugh it off. But when I went to explain to him afterwards why ‘quite’ doesn’t work that way, I struggled.

I didn’t have to look far for a good answer. The Macmillan dictionary gives this explanation:

"In British English quite usually means 'fairly': The film was quite enjoyable, although some of the acting was weak. When American speakers say quite, they usually mean 'very': We've examined the figures quite thoroughly. Speakers of British English sometimes use quite to mean 'very', but only before words with an extreme meaning: The whole experience was quite amazing."

Anyway, all this got me thinking about all those other little misunderstandings we have. Sometimes it seems we’re speaking the same language, but we’re not. In British English, phrases like 'Yeah right' and 'Thanks a bunch' are really only ever used sarcastically and can cause offence – but in the US they’re genuine signs of agreement or gratitude.

And then there are those funny US expressions that sound downright inappropriate to us Brits. 'Fanny pack' (bum bag), 'double fisting' (to have a drink in each hand), 'give someone the stink eye' (evil stare)… the list goes on. My husband likes to call his English 'English 2.0' – though to some, these might sound like it's regressed! 

I'm sure this is something I'll blog about again. In the meantime, watch out people – the English language really is a minefield. And if you need anything transatlanticlated, this little Tumblr site set up by the Guardian’s New York office is nice.

Small things that make a big impression

While I was nursing my Pret coffee in front of my computer this morning, this little chunk of copy caught my eye.

I was already a big fan of Pret’s plain speaking, personable brand. But this napkin reminded me that even the smallest things can have a huge impact on how brands and products are perceived.

 

Plenty of other companies already do this (you’ve probably seen the cute little reminders about recycling and nuts on Innocent smoothie bottles) but more really should pay this kind of attention to detail.

So thank you Pret for making me smile this morning. I might just take you up on your offer next time a member of staff goes all “serviette-ish” on me, and throw an evil eye* their way.

* Interestingly Americans call this the ‘stink eye’. See my next post for more on British v US English.