I try. I really try. I really really try not to notice mistakes in other people’s writing, and really really try not to blog about it here. If the blog in question was just anyone’s language-related blog, I’d say ‘ouch, then bite my tongue (or the digital (in both senses) equivalent), but it’s the blog of a Major Language-Related Website, so I’ll say ‘ouch’, then blog about it here.
One post referred to the A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones character Thormund Giantsbane and the British writer Road Dahl. Ouch and double ouch.
In real life, the spelling Thormund exists, but Tormund is much more common. (Thormund more closely reflects the original Old Norse Þórmundr.)The ASoIaF/GoT character is Tormund, although the spelling Thormund is occasionally used, more often on websites less related to the books or tv series.
In real life, Roald is still used in Nordic countries and among Nordic emigrants (but less so than in the days of Roald Amundsen and Roald Dahl). Road isn’t a name anywhere, though there are several occurrences of Road Dahl on the internet, including goodreads and IMDb. (I have a vague memory of first thinking that his name was Ronald.)
I’ll be generous and say that both spellings are the result of momentary inattention and muscle-memory influence from the much more common words Thor and road. But please proofread, especially if you’re a blogger on a Major Language-Related Website.
(Before anyone points out any mis-spellings in this post (I have re-read very carefully!), please note that this is not a Major Language-Related Website.)
I have written several blog posts with the tag ‘lost in autosubtitling’, most recently three days ago, so you may think I have a dim view of technological approaches to language. But sometimes technology gets it right, even when humans have made the mistake in the first place.
Yesterday morning I read a Facebook post in which someone complained about the “peroquialism” in a certain book sometimes considered an Australian classic. My first thought was that it was related to colloquialism – that is, “characteristic of or appropriate to ordinary or familiar conversation rather than formal speech or writing”, but the lack of a first l made that unlikely. (All the speech-related words have loqu– or loc-, from Latin loquī to speak.) When I searched for it, a well-known search engine suggested “Did you mean: parochialism” – that is “excessive narrowness of interests or view” Continue reading →
In August 2015, when I went to Korea for the second time, my working visa was delayed, so I had to do the ‘visa run’ to Fukuoka, Japan. While I was wandering around a suburb of that city, I saw a modern buildingdevoted to the study and performance of traditional Noh theatre. I thought that their slogan could be “What part of Noh don’t you understand?”. Unfortunately, on searching the internet, I found that Pat Byrnes, a cartoonist for the New Yorker magazine, had beaten me to it. I thought I mentioned this in my blog post of the time, but apparently not. Certainly I mentioned it on Facebook.
I’m back to choir rehearsals, courtesy of my new, daytime job. My local choir was practicing ‘Steppin’ out with my baby‘ (video) by Irving Berlin (not the choir’s usual repertoire). For a moment, I thought the words were ‘There’ll be smooth sailin’ ’cause I’m trimmin’ my nails’ (well, the bit just before that is ‘I’m all dressed up tonight’ and the bit just after is ‘In my top hat and my white tie and my tails’. What else does one do before a night out?). Then I looked again and saw that it’s actually ‘I’m trimmin’ my sails’.
The relevant definition is:
3. to adjust (the sails or yards) with reference to the direction of the wind and the course of the ship.
I just watched a video in another language, subtitled in English by someone who isn’t a native English speaker. S/he spelled beautiful as beautifle several times. The word is beauty + full, so I could cope with beautyfull (with beautifull and beautyful as other possibilities). The subtitler obvious has access to technology and the correct spelling is only ever a few clicks away.
No English word ends –tifle and only three – rifle, stifle and trifle – end in -ifle, and all have the long I sound. If we wanted the short i pronunciation, we’d have to write beautiffle.
Can I spell any better in that other language? No, but if I had to put something in that other language on the internet, I’d get someone who can, to check it.
PS As spelling mistakes go, it’s at the less serious end of the scale. It’s perfectly clear what it means, it doesn’t change the meaning and it’s not accidentally funny or rude.
I’ve been sorting through paper documents and computer files, and been finding all sorts of miscellaneous things. One is a photocopy of a page from a textbook, at the bottom of which I wrote two sentences spoken by two students. This is at least two-and-a-half years old (that is, before I went to Korea the second time) and is more likely to be closer to four (I vaguely remember that it dates from when another teacher and I swapped upper- and lower-level classes for two days each week – these sentences came from the lower-level class).
The activity was “Speaking: Real life”. Seven scenarios are given, and I got the students to write their sentences before they spoke them (which is why I was able to copy these two sentences; I probably wouldn’t have had time if they had just spoken them). One scenario is “You are buying a ticket in a railway station. The clerk says the price of the ticket but you don’t understand him. What do you say?”
One student wrote (and later said):
Sorry I not good English so you writing this paper please.
The second sentence isn’t related to the same activity, and I can’t think of the context. Anyway, another student wrote:
I can’t ride motorcycle, because I’m not learn ride bicycle yet. But I have learn drive car before.
These sentences are “wrong”, but in many ways they are very “right” – most of the right words are there, in the right order, and there’s absolutely no doubt what those students meant; most of what is missing is the “grammar”.
Unfortunately, I can’t remember what I said about those sentences, or how I went about correcting them.
Today is our 10th wedding anniversary. Our wedding was held in a major church in Seoul. Everything was said in Korean and English (my father, sisters and brothers-in-law and all but one niece and nephew travelled and there was a sprinkling of colleagues and people from the English-language congregation of the church). The Korean priest speaks English passably, but the English part of the service was read by a Canadian deacon, who was in Korea as an English teacher. He read the new testament reading in English then Korean, and a friend of my wife read the old testament reading in Korean and English (delightfully mixing up ‘there was everything [viz ‘evening’], and there was morning – the sixth day’). We sang one hymn and said the Lord’s prayer together in both languages.
Afterwards, there was a buffet dinner in the church’s dining room, at which I welcomed people in Korean then English, then about 50 people attended a quieter, more informal reception at a small reception centre near Namsan. I also welcomed people and made a short speech in Korean there, and my wife and I sang a song in Korean.
There was a karaoke machine, which was kept busy. One song listed was Eidelweiss, a ‘Swiss fork song’. This is wrong three times: it’s not a fork song, it’s not even a folk song,* and it’s not Swiss. In the world of the musical/movie, it’s an Austrian song of unexplained origin. At the concert (at least in the movie – I’ve never seen it on stage), Captain von Trapp introduces it as ‘a love song’, and expects the audience to know it and join in. In real life, it was written by the Americans Oscar Hammerstein II and Richard Rodgers. So it’s really an American Broadway musical song.
(*I could write more about the English letters l and r and the Korean letter ㄹ, but I won’t.)
(PS A Swiss fork song might be sung while eating fondue.)