What Shakespeare’s English Sounded Like, and How We Know It

A com­mon joke has Amer­i­cans over­awed by peo­ple with British accents. It’s fun­ny because it’s part­ly true; Yanks can grant undue author­i­ty to peo­ple who sound like Sir David Atten­bor­ough or Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch. But in these cas­es, what we gener­i­cal­ly call a British accent should more accu­rate­ly be referred to as “Received Pro­nun­ci­a­tion” (or RP), the speech of BBC pre­sen­ters and edu­cat­ed Brits from cer­tain mid­dle- and upper-class areas in South­ern Eng­land. (If you like Received Pro­nun­ci­a­tion, you’re going to love “posh” Upper RP.) Received Pro­nun­ci­a­tion is only one of many British accents, as come­di­an Siob­han Thomp­son shows, most of which we’re unlike­ly to hear nar­rat­ing nature doc­u­men­taries.

RP is also some­times called “the Shake­speare accent,” for its asso­ci­a­tion with famous thes­pi­ans like John Giel­gud and Lau­rence Olivi­er, or Ian McK­ellen and Patrick Stew­art. But as we’ve pre­vi­ous­ly not­ed in a post on the work of lin­guist David Crys­tal and his son, actor Ben Crys­tal, the Eng­lish of Shakespeare’s day sound­ed noth­ing like what we typ­i­cal­ly hear on stage and screen.

What lin­guists call “Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion” (OP), the actu­al Shake­speare accent, had a fla­vor all its own, like­ly com­bin­ing, to our mod­ern ears, “flecks of near­ly every region­al U.K. Eng­lish accent,” as Ben Crys­tal tells NPR, “and indeed Amer­i­can and in fact Aus­tralian, too.”

You can see the Crys­tals explain and demon­strate the accent in the video above, and make sense of many Shake­speare­an puns that only work in OP. And in the ani­mat­ed video at the top of the post, get a whirl­wind tour from Chaucer’s Mid­dle Eng­lish to Shakespeare’s Ear­ly Mod­ern vari­ety. Along the way, you’ll learn why the spelling of Eng­lish words—both Amer­i­can and British—is so con­fus­ing and irreg­u­lar. (“Knight,” for exam­ple, which makes no sense when pro­nounced as nite, was once pro­nounced much more pho­net­i­cal­ly.) The range of region­al accents pro­duced a bed­lam of vari­ant spellings, which took a few hun­dred years to stan­dard­ize dur­ing some intense spelling debates.

You’ll get an intro­duc­tion to the first Eng­lish print­er, William Cax­ton, and the “Great Vow­el Shift” which changed the language’s sound dra­mat­i­cal­ly over the course of a cou­ple hun­dred years. Once we get to Shake­speare and his “Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion,” we can see how rhymes that don’t scan for us sound­ed just right to Eliz­a­bethan ears. These lost rhymes pro­vide a sig­nif­i­cant clue for lin­guists who recon­struct OP, as does meter and the sur­vival of old­er pro­nun­ci­a­tions in cer­tain dialects.

When the Crys­tals brought their recon­struc­tion of Shakespeare’s Eng­lish to the stage in huge­ly pop­u­lar pro­duc­tions at the Globe The­atre, mem­bers of the audi­ence all heard some­thing slight­ly different—their many dif­fer­ent dialects reflect­ed back at them. Lis­ten for all the var­i­ous kinds of Eng­lish above in Ben Crys­tal’s recita­tion of Hamlet’s “to be, or not to be” speech in Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear What Shake­speare Sound­ed Like in the Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion

A 68 Hour Playlist of Shakespeare’s Plays Being Per­formed by Great Actors: Giel­gud, McK­ellen & More

Hear What Ham­let, Richard III & King Lear Sound­ed Like in Shakespeare’s Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Where Did the English Language Come From?: An Animated Introduction

If you’ve ever delib­er­ate­ly stud­ied the Eng­lish lan­guage — or, even worse, taught it — you know that bot­tom­less aggra­va­tion awaits any­one fool­ish enough to try to explain its “rules.” What makes Eng­lish so appar­ent­ly strange and dif­fer­ent from oth­er lan­guages, and how could such a lan­guage go on to get so much trac­tion all over the world? Whether you speak Eng­lish native­ly (and thus haven’t had much occa­sion to give the mat­ter thought) or learned it as a sec­ond lan­guage, the five-minute TED-Ed les­son above, writ­ten by Yale lin­guis­tics pro­fes­sor Claire Bow­ern and ani­mat­ed by Patrick Smith, will give you a sol­id start on under­stand­ing the answer to those ques­tions and oth­ers.

“When we talk about ‘Eng­lish,’ we often think of it as a sin­gle lan­guage,” says the lesson’s nar­ra­tor, “but what do the dialects spo­ken in dozens of coun­tries around the world have in com­mon with each oth­er, or with the writ­ings of Chaucer? And how are any of them relat­ed to the strange words in Beowulf?”

The answer involves Eng­lish’s dis­tinc­tive evo­lu­tion­ary path through gen­er­a­tions and gen­er­a­tions of speak­ers, expand­ing and chang­ing all the while. Along the way, it’s picked up words from Latin-derived Romance lan­guages like French and Span­ish, a process that began with the Nor­man inva­sion of Eng­land in 1066. So also emerged Old Eng­lish, a mem­ber of — you guessed it — the Ger­man­ic lan­guage fam­i­ly, one brought to the British isles in the fifth and sixth cen­turies. Then, of course, you’ve got the Viking invaders bring­ing in their Old Norse from the eighth to the eleventh cen­turies.

Eng­lish thus came to its char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly rich (and often con­fus­ing) mix­ture of words drawn from all over the place quite some time ago, leav­ing mod­ern lin­guists to per­form the qua­si-archae­o­log­i­cal task of trac­ing each word back to its ori­gins through its sound and usage. Go far enough and you get to the tongues we call “Pro­to-Ger­man­ic,” spo­ken cir­ca 500 BC, and “Pro­to-Indo-Euro­pean,” which had its hey­day six mil­len­nia ago in mod­ern-day Ukraine and Rus­sia. Eng­lish now often gets labeled, right­ly or wrong­ly, a “glob­al lan­guage,” but a look into its com­pli­cat­ed his­to­ry — and thus the his­to­ry of all Euro­pean lan­guages — reveals some­thing more impres­sive: “Near­ly three bil­lion peo­ple around the world, many of whom can­not under­stand each oth­er, are nev­er­the­less speak­ing the same words, shaped by 6,000 years of his­to­ry.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Eng­lish Lessons

The His­to­ry of the Eng­lish Lan­guage in Ten Ani­mat­ed Min­utes

The Largest His­tor­i­cal Dic­tio­nary of Eng­lish Slang Now Free Online: Cov­ers 500 Years of the “Vul­gar Tongue”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Earliest Known Appearance of the F‑Word, in a Bizarre Court Record Entry from 1310

Pho­to by Paul Booth

You val­ue deco­rum, pro­pri­ety, elo­quence, you trea­sure le mot juste and ago­nize over dic­tion as you com­pose polite but strong­ly-word­ed let­ters to the edi­tor. But alas, my lit­er­ate friend, you have the mis­for­tune of liv­ing in the age of Twit­ter, Tum­blr, et al., where the favored means of com­mu­ni­ca­tion con­sists of ready­made mimet­ic words and phras­es, pho­tos, videos, and ani­mat­ed gifs. World lead­ers trade insults like 5th graders—some of them do not know how to spell. Respect­ed sci­en­tists and jour­nal­ists debate anony­mous strangers with car­toon avatars and work-unsafe pseu­do­nyms. Some of them are robots.

What to do?

Embrace it. Insert well-placed pro­fan­i­ties into your com­mu­niqués. Indulge in bawdi­ness and rib­aldry. You may notice that you are doing no more than writ­ers have done for cen­turies, from Rabelais to Shake­speare to Voltaire. Pro­fan­i­ty has evolved right along­side, not apart from, lit­er­ary his­to­ry. T.S. Eliot, for exam­ple, knew how to go low­brow with the best of them, and gets cred­it for the first record­ed use of the word “bull­shit.” As for anoth­er, even more fre­quent­ly used epi­thet in 24-hour online commentary?—well, the word “F*ck” has a far longer his­to­ry, grant­i­ng its apt pub­lic use recent­ly by seis­mol­o­gist Steven Gib­bons an added author­i­ty.

Not long ago we alert­ed you to the first known use of the ver­sa­tile obscen­i­ty in a 1528 mar­gin­al note scrib­bled in Cicero’s De Offici­is by a monk curs­ing his abbot. Not long after this dis­cov­ery, notes Medievalists.net, anoth­er schol­ar found the word in a 1475 poem called Flen fly­ys. This was thought to be the ear­li­est appear­ance of “f*ck” as a pure­ly sex­u­al ref­er­ence until medieval his­to­ri­an Paul Booth of Keele Uni­ver­si­ty dis­cov­ered an instance dat­ing over a hun­dred years ear­li­er. Rather than with­in, or next to, a work of lit­er­a­ture, how­ev­er, the word appears in a set of 1310 Eng­lish court records. And no, it is decid­ed­ly not a legal term.

The doc­u­ments con­cern the case of “a man named Roger Fucke­bythenavele.” Used three times in the record, the name, says Booth, is prob­a­bly not a joke made by the scribe but some kind of bizarre nick­name, though one hopes not a descrip­tion of the crime. “Either it refers to an inex­pe­ri­enced cop­u­la­tor, refer­ring to some­one try­ing to have sex with a navel,” says Booth, stat­ing the obvi­ous, “or it’s a rather extrav­a­gant expla­na­tion for a dimwit, some­one so stu­pid they think that this is the way to have sex.” Our medieval gent had oth­er prob­lems as well. He was called to court three times with­in a year before being pro­nounced “out­lawed,” which The Inde­pen­dent’s Loul­la-Mae Eleft­he­ri­ou-Smith sug­gests exe­cu­tion but prob­a­bly refers to ban­ish­ment.

For the word to have such casu­al­ly hilar­i­ous or insult­ing cur­ren­cy in the ear­ly 14th cen­tu­ry, it must have come from an even ear­li­er time. Indeed, “f*ck is a word of Ger­man ori­gin,” notes Jesse Shei­d­low­er, author of an ety­mo­log­i­cal his­to­ry called The F Word, “relat­ed to words in sev­er­al oth­er Ger­man­ic lan­guages, such as Dutch, Ger­man, and Swedish, that have sex­u­al mean­ings as well as mean­ing such as ‘to strike’ or ‘to move back and forth’” (nat­u­ral­ly). So, in oth­er words, it’s just a word. But in this case it might have also been a weapon, Booth spec­u­lates, wield­ed “by a revenge­ful for­mer girl­friend. Four­teenth-cen­tu­ry revenge porn per­haps…” If that’s not evi­dence for you that the present may not be unlike the past, then maybe take note of the appear­ance of the word “twerk” in 1820.

h/t Rick Davis

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Young T.S. Eliot Writes “The Tri­umph of Bullsh*t” and Gives the Eng­lish Lan­guage a New Exple­tive (1910)

Steven Pinker Explains the Neu­ro­science of Swear­ing (NSFW)

Stephen Fry, Lan­guage Enthu­si­ast, Defends The “Unnec­es­sary” Art Of Swear­ing

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

How Ingenious Sign Language Interpreters Are Bringing Music to Life for the Deaf: Visualizing the Sound of Rhythm, Harmony & Melody

They are greet­ed like celebri­ties, with huge cheers and applause from the audi­ence on Jim­my Kim­mel Live!, for exam­ple, and it is well-deserved—they’re stars in their own right—but you prob­a­bly won’t rec­og­nize their names. They’re Amer­i­can Sign Lan­guage inter­preters of pop music, and their craft involves not only a mas­tery of ASL, but also empa­thy, cre­ativ­i­ty, spon­tane­ity, dance, and some of the vivid inter­pre­tive moves of an air gui­tar cham­pi­on (a rare art form indeed).

In the video explain­er from Vox above, we meet one of the most tal­ent­ed of such inter­preters, the poised yet high­ly ani­mat­ed Amber Gal­loway Gal­lego. She has inter­pret­ed over 400 artists—“literally every artist you could think of”—including sta­di­um fillers like Adele, Kendrick Lamar, Drake, and, as you can see below in video from last year’s Lol­la­palooza, the Red Hot Chili Pep­pers, whose melan­choly “Under the Bridge” takes on an entire­ly new ener­gy through Gallego’s expres­sive hands, face, and body (she first appears at 1:22).

As she explains to Vox, ASL inter­preters have for years com­mu­ni­cat­ed music to their audi­ences by dri­ly mak­ing the sign in Eng­lish for “Music” and leav­ing it at that. For Gal­lego, this was total­ly insuf­fi­cient. The deaf com­mu­ni­ty includes “a diverse group of peo­ple,” the Vox nar­ra­tor says, “who have a wide range of resid­ual hear­ing” across the audi­ble spec­trum. And every­one can feel music at cer­tain vol­umes, espe­cial­ly in a live con­cert set­ting. But an inter­preter, Gal­lego sug­gests, should be pre­pared not only to trans­late the lyrics of a song, but also the rhythm and, to a cer­tain degree, the melody and har­mo­ny, as well as the gen­er­al vibe, allow­ing deaf con­cert goers to be part of the total expe­ri­ence, as she puts it. (She can even inter­pret beat­box­ing.)

Since ASL already incor­po­rates emo­tive ges­tures and facial expres­sions, Gal­lego sim­ply adapt­ed and expand­ed these into a reper­toire of dance and musi­cal sign. She inter­prets fre­quen­cy, bring­ing her arms and hands clos­er to her waist for low­er sounds and at her shoul­ders and above for high notes. She com­mu­ni­cates pitch and rhythm with her face and hands in ways that both mim­ic the move­ment of sound waves and com­mu­ni­cate how much she her­self is groov­ing to a tune. “If we mere­ly show the sign for music,” Gal­lego insists, “then we are doing an injus­tice as an inter­preter.” Be warned, ASL inter­preters, she sets the bar high.

To con­vey the mean­ing of a song’s lyri­cal con­tent, a music inter­preter must trans­late a tremen­dous amount of word­play, rhyme, and metaphor into a visu­al form of com­mu­ni­ca­tion. In the Vox video, Gal­lego shows how she does this effec­tive­ly at the speed of Eminem’s motor mouth in a song like “The Mon­ster,” and, though I can’t speak to the expe­ri­ence of some­one from the deaf com­mu­ni­ty, it’s impres­sive.

Gal­le­go’s enthu­si­as­tic inno­va­tion and embrace of music sign­ing has gen­er­at­ed dozens of video inter­pre­ta­tions on her YouTube chan­nel (includ­ing clas­sics of both Christ­mas and kids’ music and the irre­sistible glee of Chew­bac­ca mom). And she has also pro­mot­ed her rock-star-wor­thy work to mil­lions on TV shows like Total­ly Biased with W. Kamau Bell and, as I men­tioned, Jim­my Kim­mel Live!, where, as you can see above, she tag teams (for the win) with two fel­low music inter­preters in a bat­tle against rap­per Wiz Khal­i­fa.

via Vox

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hip Hop Hits Sung Won­der­ful­ly in Sign Lan­guage: Eminem’s “Lose Your­self,” Wiz Khalifa’s “Black and Yel­low” & More

“Alexan­der Hamil­ton” Per­formed with Amer­i­can Sign Lan­guage

Learn 48 Lan­guages for Free Online: A Big Update to Our Mas­ter List

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Meet the “Grammar Vigilante,” Hell-Bent on Fixing Grammatical Mistakes on England’s Storefront Signs

In the age of Banksy, anonymi­ty, ener­gy, and act­ing with­out per­mis­sion com­bine to make a potent brew. Those whose work springs up in a pub­lic set­ting overnight, with­out pri­or announce­ment or trans­ac­tion, are freely assumed to be pas­sion­ate swash­buck­lers, brim­ming with tal­ent and sly social com­men­tary.

But what about an anony­mous mid­dle-aged man who roams the streets of Bris­tol, armed not with sten­cils and spray paint, but a sponge-tipped broom han­dle that allows him to cor­rect the improp­er punc­tu­a­tion on local busi­ness­es’ awnings and out-of-reach sig­nage?

The so-called “gram­mar vig­i­lante,” above, became an Inter­net sen­sa­tion after a BBC reporter trailed him on one of his night­ly rounds, watch­ing him apply adhe­sive-backed apos­tro­phes where need­ed and erad­i­cate incor­rect­ly placed ones with blank, col­or-matched stick­ers.

While the man­ag­er of Cam­bridge Motors (for­mer­ly known as Cam­bridge Motor’s) hailed the unknown cit­i­zen who mus­cled his splin­tery wood­en sign into com­pli­ance with the King’s Eng­lish, else­where, the back­lash has been bru­tal and swift.

The chair­man of the Queen’s Eng­lish Soci­ety shares the anony­mous crusader’s pain, but frowns on his uncred­it­ed exe­cu­tion.

The Tele­graph is one of sev­er­al pub­li­ca­tions to have called him a “pedant.”

And the own­er of Tux & Tails, whose web­site per­sists in describ­ing the busi­ness as a “gen­tle­mans out­fit­ters,” is angry over what he says will be the cost of restor­ing a large vinyl sign, installed less than a year ago. “It looks like bird shit,” he declared to The Bris­tol Post.

On this side of the pond, Erin Bren­ner, an instruc­tor in the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia San Diego Extension’s Copy­edit­ing Cer­tifi­cate pro­gram, comes down hard in her Copy­edit­ing blog. In her opin­ion, there’s noth­ing to be gained from pub­licly sham­ing strangers for their punc­tu­a­tion boo boos:

It is not a kindness—it’s abhor­rent behavior…It also gives the world a mis­guid­ed idea about what pro­fes­sion­al edi­tors, who are also pas­sion­ate about lan­guage, do. We don’t go around slap­ping our authors’ wrists in pub­lic and telling them how wrong and stu­pid they are. 

Those with rea­son to fear vig­i­lante jus­tice for their pub­lic punc­tu­a­tion should be advised that the web abounds with apos­tro­phe usage videos, one of which is above.

Watch a longer seg­ment on the Gram­mar Vig­i­lante here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

“Weird Al” Yankovic Releas­es “Word Crimes,” a Gram­mar Nerd Par­o­dy of “Blurred Lines”

Cor­mac McCarthy’s Three Punc­tu­a­tion Rules, and How They All Go Back to James Joyce

Steven Pinker Iden­ti­fies 10 Break­able Gram­mat­i­cal Rules: “Who” Vs. “Whom,” Dan­gling Mod­i­fiers & More

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Benedict Cumberbatch Reads Albert Camus’ Touching Thank You Letter to His Elementary School Teacher

It’s nev­er too late to thank the teacher who changed your life.

Oprah Win­frey fell to pieces when she was reunit­ed on air with Mrs. Dun­can, her fourth grade teacher, her “first lib­er­a­tor” and “val­ida­tor.”

Patrick Stew­art used his knight­hood cer­e­mo­ny as an occa­sion to thank Cecil Dor­mand, the Eng­lish teacher who told him that Shakespeare’s works were not dra­mat­ic poems, but plays to be per­formed on one’s feet.

And Bill Gates had kind words for Blanche Caffiere, the for­mer librar­i­an at View Ridge Ele­men­tary in Seat­tle, who des­tig­ma­tized his role as a “messy, nerdy boy who was read­ing lots of books.”

One of the most heart­felt stu­dent-to-teacher trib­utes is that of Nobel Prize-win­ning author and philoso­pher Albert Camus to Louis Ger­main, a father sub­sti­tute whose class­room was a wel­come reprieve from the extreme pover­ty Camus expe­ri­enced at home. Ger­main per­suad­ed Camus’ wid­owed moth­er to allow Camus to com­pete for the schol­ar­ship that enabled him to attend high school.

As read aloud by actor Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch, above, at Let­ters Live, a “cel­e­bra­tion of the endur­ing pow­er of lit­er­ary cor­re­spon­dence,” Camus’ 1957 mes­sage to Ger­main is an exer­cise in humil­i­ty and sim­ply stat­ed grat­i­tude:

Dear Mon­sieur Ger­main,

I let the com­mo­tion around me these days sub­side a bit before speak­ing to you from the bot­tom of my heart. I have just been giv­en far too great an hon­our, one I nei­ther sought nor solicit­ed.

But when I heard the news, my first thought, after my moth­er, was of you. With­out you, with­out the affec­tion­ate hand you extend­ed to the small poor child that I was, with­out your teach­ing and exam­ple, none of all this would have hap­pened.

I don’t make too much of this sort of hon­our. But at least it gives me the oppor­tu­ni­ty to tell you what you have been and still are for me, and to assure you that your efforts, your work, and the gen­er­ous heart you put into it still live in one of your lit­tle school­boys who, despite the years, has nev­er stopped being your grate­ful pupil. I embrace you with all my heart.

Albert Camus

The let­ter was grate­ful­ly received by his for­mer teacher, who wrote back a year and a half lat­er to say in part:

If it were pos­si­ble, I would squeeze the great boy whom you have become, and who will always remain for me “my lit­tle Camus.”

He com­pli­ment­ed his lit­tle Camus on not let­ting fame go to his head, and urged him to con­tin­ue mak­ing his fam­i­ly pri­or­i­ty. He shared some fond mem­o­ries of Camus as a gen­tle, opti­mistic, intel­lec­tu­al­ly curi­ous lit­tle fel­low, and praised his moth­er for doing her best in dif­fi­cult cir­cum­stances.

Read­ers, please use the com­ments sec­tion to share with us the teach­ers deserv­ing of your thanks.

You can find this let­ter, and many more, in the great Let­ters of Note book.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Albert Camus: The Mad­ness of Sin­cer­i­ty — 1997 Doc­u­men­tary Revis­its the Philosopher’s Life & Work

Albert Camus, Edi­tor of the French Resis­tance News­pa­per Com­bat, Writes Mov­ing­ly About Life, Pol­i­tics & War (1944–47)

Hear Albert Camus Deliv­er His Nobel Prize Accep­tance Speech (1957)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Her play Zam­boni Godot is open­ing in New York City in March 2017. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Theater Dictionary: A Free Video Guide to Theatre Lingo

It’s 11 o’clock. Do you know where your show­stop­pers are? Or, more to the point, do you know why a musi­cal-com­e­dy writ­ing team seeks to ori­ent its show­stop­ping num­ber at “eleven o’clock”?

The The­ater Devel­op­ment Fund’s The­atre Dic­tio­nary is an ongo­ing attempt to define and doc­u­ment the­ater terms for both the rab­ble and any bud­ding prac­ti­tion­ers who’ve yet to mas­ter the lin­go.

Each term is accom­pa­nied by a loopy slap­dash skit. Not all of the per­form­ers exhib­it the pedi­gree Veron­i­ca J. Kuehn and Nick Kohn of Avenue Q bring to “Eleven O’Clock Num­ber,” above, but cast­ing admin­is­tra­tors and tick­et booth reps in star­ring roles lend a homey egal­i­tar­i­an­ism, such as when stu­dents from the Yale School of Drama’s Depart­ment of Dra­matur­gy and Dra­mat­ic Crit­i­cism are giv­en free license to explore the ori­gins of “vom.”

(This loosey goosey approach also allows for uncred­it­ed appear­ances by oth­er the­atri­cal tropes—the marathon rehearsals where pop­corn con­sti­tutes lunch and one actor repeat­ed­ly com­plains that his work has been insuf­fi­cient­ly acknowl­edged.)

A “What Does This Word Mean” tab for each term anchors the video silli­ness, pro­vid­ing his­tor­i­cal and anec­do­tal con­text. It’s in keep­ing with the Dictionary’s greater goal of bring­ing the­ater to the peo­ple, let­ting every­one play with the toys.

Some of the def­i­n­i­tions are prac­ti­cal short­hand…

Oth­ers are couched in long­time, pos­si­bly archa­ic the­ater lore…

I’d exer­cise cau­tion with some of this lin­go. Even though many of these terms are born of prac­ti­cal­i­ty, overus­ing them may cause oth­ers to view you as the most obnox­ious of self-declared Triple Threats, the kid in the com­e­dy-tragedy mask sweat­shirt, prone to belt­ing out the entire sound­track of CATS at the slight­est provo­ca­tion. (“Thanks, 5!!!”)

Some of these terms have unex­pect­ed crossover appeal, most recent­ly Ghost Light, above. Know­ing the mean­ing of the term will help you bet­ter appre­ci­ate the pow­er of the Ghost­light Project, a post-elec­tion com­ing togeth­er of the­ater artists and audi­ences in defense and sup­port of vul­ner­a­ble com­mu­ni­ties.

You can browse the The­ater Dic­tio­nary com­plete glos­sary here or watch the videos on TDF’s Youtube chan­nel.

The The­ater Dictionary’s FAQ con­tains infor­ma­tion on how pro­fes­sion­al the­atre com­pa­nies and orga­ni­za­tions and col­lege-lev­el the­atre pro­grams can apply to con­tribute a video.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

100,000+ Won­der­ful Pieces of The­ater Ephemera Dig­i­tized by The New York Pub­lic Library

Young Orson Welles Directs “Voodoo Mac­beth,” the First Shake­speare Pro­duc­tion With An All-Black Cast: Footage from 1936

Take a “Breath” and Watch Samuel Beckett’s One-Minute Play

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Her play Zam­boni Godot is open­ing in New York City in March 2017. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Largest Historical Dictionary of English Slang Now Free Online: Covers 500 Years of the “Vulgar Tongue”

greens-dictionary-of-slang

“The three vol­umes of Green’s Dic­tio­nary of Slang demon­strate the sheer scope of a life­time of research by Jonathon Green, the lead­ing slang lex­i­cog­ra­ph­er of our time. A remark­able col­lec­tion of this often reviled but end­less­ly fas­ci­nat­ing area of the Eng­lish lan­guage, it cov­ers slang from the past five cen­turies right up to the present day, from all the dif­fer­ent Eng­lish-speak­ing coun­tries and regions. Total­ing 10.3 mil­lion words and over 53,000 entries, the col­lec­tion pro­vides the def­i­n­i­tions of 100,000 words and over 413,000 cita­tions. Every word and phrase is authen­ti­cat­ed by gen­uine and ful­ly-ref­er­enced cita­tions of its use, giv­ing the work a lev­el of author­i­ty and schol­ar­ship unmatched by any oth­er pub­li­ca­tion in this field.”

If you head over to Amazon.com, that’s how you will find Green’s Dic­tio­nary of Slang pitched to con­sumers. The dic­tio­nary is an attrac­tive three-vol­ume, hard-bound set. But it comes at a price. $264 for a used edi­tion. $600 for a new one.

Now comes the good news. In Octo­ber, Green’s Dic­tio­nary of Slang became avail­able as a free web­site, giv­ing you access to an even more updat­ed ver­sion of the dic­tio­nary. Col­lec­tive­ly, the web­site lets you trace the devel­op­ment of slang over the past 500 years. And, as Men­tal Floss notes, the site “allows lookups of word def­i­n­i­tions and ety­molo­gies for free, and, for a well-worth-it sub­scrip­tion fee, it offers cita­tions and more exten­sive search options.” If you’ve ever won­dered about the mean­ing of words like kid­ly­wink, gol­lier, and lint­head, you now know where to begin.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Cab Calloway’s “Hep­ster Dic­tio­nary,” A 1939 Glos­sary of the Lin­go (the “Jive”) of the Harlem Renais­sance

Oh My God! Win­ston Churchill Received the First Ever Let­ter Con­tain­ing “O.M.G.” (1917)

Free Online Eng­lish Lessons

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast
Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.