The English language as we know it came in to being so that our
Norman overlords could converse with their Anglo-Saxon underlings. It is not very much use being a conqueror if
you cannot get your peasantry to go out and about ploughing your fields and
reaping your harvests or fighting your battles for you. Consequently all the fripperies of grammar
that beset the parent tongues were excised and we are now blessed with a
language that is so simple in construction that it has become a lingua franca
(an amusing and ironic description) for trade, commerce and general
communication round the world. This
stripped down form of speech means that someone from the forests of Papua New
Guinea can make themselves understood to a francophone from Montreal. English is a sort of Lego language in which
simple elements can be assembled using any bits and pieces of vocabulary from
any other language the speaker can lay his or her tongue to. Consequently, it is
unafraid of importing any vocabulary from any other language that might prove
useful. If we don’t have a word for an
item or an idea we import it. Or we just fabricate something vaguely appropriate
rather than trying to make it up according to some arcane set of rules as is
the practice in France.
And so, the English language outside the needs of basic
communication becomes complex in vocabulary and a minefield for those who are
unwary in its application. Because of
all the imports and coinages words slip and differentiate in barely perceptible
shades. And above all, the true English
speaker will use words in a subtle, almost poetic fashion in which basic words
assume indirect, elliptical, cryptic colouring calling up a world of strange
hidden meanings and images. The writer of English must always assume the mantel
of a poet and the writer of dialogue in English drama must become something of
a magician weaving strange incantations and spells together. (It is no coincidence that the word “spell”is
of exactly the same root as “spelling” meaning to assemble a word
correctly. The two concepts of controlling
unseen powers are directly linked).
So to record speech in English one must be aware at all
times that what is said contains drifts of meaning far beyond what the words
themselves convey. The unseen and
unspoken topics that are never uttered are usually to do with staus and
emotional engagement. Intentions in
these ideas must never be referred to directly. Thus:
Andrew visits Barry. Barry
asks “Would you like a cup of tea?” Andrew must never reply “Yes” or “No”. These are forceful, closing words which
represent a status assertion and, as such, serve to reduce one’s o own status. (The answer “yes” Implying something like: “You
are too stupid to recognise that is why I am here” and “No” implying “I wouldn’t
drink that gnat’s piss you served up last time.”) Thus Andrew must reply with a
status neutral question: “Are you making one for yourself?” and so throwing the
status problem back to Barry who must reply with a further question: “Do you
prefer Earl Grey or Typhoo?” Answer: “Can you still get Typhoo?” (Careful, that’s
nearly a status assertion in itself) “I may have some in the back of the
cupboard.” And the final: I’ll have some
of that then.”
This is typical of a complex status interaction in which
both speakers are fencing to an unwritten but well understood set of rules. There are similar rules to follow in
interactions concerning the weather which are really coded for one’s emotional
engagement with the world and must be kept carefully guarded at all times.
It used to be axiomatic that in polite society one avoided conversing
about religion, sex and politics. In our
dialogue here, of course, these are the only safe topics of conversation as
Andrew would not be visiting Barry if he did not appear to agree with his host
in these matters whatever he might think in private.
