Ours Has Become the Language of the Natives

We all know that English is a crazy language, a truth popularized by Richard Lederer in his recent book, “Crazy English” (Pocket Books).

Allan Paul of Costa Mesa sends an excerpt from Writer’s Digest in which Lederer notes that English is the most widely spoken language in the history of our planet, has the largest vocabulary of all the world’s languages (perhaps as many as 2 million words), and is, in a word, crazy.

Among many anomalies, he points out that we have words to express certain things or ideas only when they don’t exist. “Have you ever seen a horseful carriage, or a strapful gown? Have you ever rubbed into someone who was combobulated, sheveled, gruntled, plussed, chalant, ruly, gainly, maculate, pecunious or peccable?”

“But still,” he concedes, “you have to marvel at the unique lunacy of the English language.”

How difficult English is for foreigners is illustrated in “English Well Speeched Here” (Price Stern Sloan), a booklet called to my attention by Jane Wyatt.

Compiled by Nini Lo Bello, it gives examples of signs, in English, seen around the world. For example, a sign in a Norwegian cocktail lounge: “Women are requested not to have children in the bar.” A sign outside a clothing store in Brussels: “Come inside and have a fit.” In a Florence shop window: “Dresses for Street Walking.” A Rome laundry suggests: “Ladies, leave your clothes here and spend the afternoon having a good time.” A Zurich hotel advises: “Because of the impropriety of entertaining guests of the opposite sex in the bedroom, it is suggested that the lobby be used for this purpose.” Equally moralistic is a sign in Germany’s Black Forest: “It is strictly forbidden on our Black Forest camping site that people of different sex, for instance, men and women, live together in one tent unless they are married with each other for that purpose.”

On the other hand, adman Stephen Baker, whose native language is Hungarian, extols English as the language of the angels in a Writer’s Digest article sent me by Meredith Brucker. “No other language is like it,” he says. “Nothing even comes close to it in sound, eloquence, and just plain common sense.”

Illustrating the versatility of English, he notes that in Hungarian jumpers could only ugri (jump). In America, they can leap, hop, vault, spring, bound, bounce, caper, prance, buck, trip, bob, skip or even go hippity-hop.

I won’t say all those words are exact synonyms for jump , but you get the idea. He points out that we have no academy to enforce standard English on us. We are free to invent and enlarge and change.

“In fact, in this country the line between ‘correct’ and ‘colloquial’ speech has become so blurred as to be nearly imperceptible to all but the most consummate wordsmiths.” (Well, everyone to their own opinion about that.)

I especially agree with Baker that “the free and uninhibited use of the pronoun you in English pretty much stands alone among speakers of the world. Americans should feel fortunate to be so blessed.”

He notes that the French, Dutch, Scandinavians and Russians have at least two second person pronouns, one familiar, one unfamiliar. Germans have three, Italians have four, the Spanish five and the Portuguese 20.

I am well aware of how important this distinction is, at least in French. Once I referred to my French daughter-in-law’s younger sister as tu , instead of vous . She seemed embarrassed; my wife and my daughter-in-law were shocked. I didn’t know what I had done wrong. My wife explained to me that one uses the pronoun tu only for persons with whom one is very familiar.

“Vivid in my memory,” Baker recalls, “is the resounding slap meted out by my high-spirited Hungarian girlfriend who felt that my switching to the familiar te after a single perfunctory kiss at the door was just a bit premature.”

As for our you , he says, “Those born and raised here rarely appreciate the impact of this unassuming but handy little word. Quite possibly you represents one of the cornerstones of democracy. Because of it, cabdriver or passenger, celebrity or ordinary citizen, worker or manager all converse on the same level playing field.”

Baker urges his fellow immigrants to learn and use their new language. “Sure, I nurture my memories from the ‘old country.’ Like everyone else, I enjoy waxing nostalgic to my children. But I do so in their native language. Which happens to be English. And you know something? My stories flow better.”

American English may be the ideal language of the free.

Hey, you --Mr. President--read my lips!