What’s in a word?

I have been picked up on the overuse of the word fabulous in my last posting, by an old friend who has doubtless heard me use it far too many times, and just for good measure said that I have a tendency to use the word bizarre too much too. I guess these words are just part of my lexical “fingerprint.” This critique got me thinking about the other bad habits in my vocabulary and that of other people I know. Words, particularly colourful adjectives, seem to come and go in fashion and have a horribly way of accurately dating the user.

There are words that I would never use to describe something that are commonly used by the younger generation. I would never describe anyone or anything as fierce, pants or minging. I never go around saying that’s so random; and it took me ages to discover what a chav was. However, I might say something was well wicked or cool, which has a tendency to make me seem, well, quite uncool actually.

I suppose none of this really matters in the grand scheme of things. I will remain a constant source of embarrassment to my youngest son, who is perilously close to those teenage years, where anything I say in public will be beyond the pale. However, it does matter when it comes to my writing and I must make a point to keep my language up to date, although it feels quite alien to try and use new words, at least when I am speaking.

Moving to Ireland has introduced me to a whole new range of words and phrases. Everything here is grand, legend or class. Nobody says thank you, it is tanks a million, and sometimes you’re gorgeous is tacked on as an additional flourish. Actually that’s quite nice to hear from time to time, so I am not complaining. But it is funny getting used to a new use of the English vocabulary, especially after living in Shetland which really was a linguistic adventure.

There are lots of words that are peculiar to Shetland and it took a little while to learn the dialect, which combined with a strong accent made my first few months quite difficult. But the hardest thing to grasp was the use of English words in a different context. For example, keen and kent mean know and knew. Mind means remember and messages means shopping, and start means a period of time.

Here is a peerie (little) example of Shetland dialect, from a poem I wrote a few years ago. I hasten to add that I would not dream of speaking in dialect, it would have sounded ridiculous with my accent but I loved the sound of others speaking it, and after a couple of years it sounded more normal to me than some speaking received pronunciation. In fact hearing anyone speaking with a London accent (my own) really grated on my nerves everytime I went south for a holiday.

Ode to a Bonny Langsome Siamese Cat

Da cat wheeches doon tae da loch and stauns peerie wyes
He watches sleekit for da peerie mootie deuk
Up in da skies a muckle bonxie skröls a warning
Tiger skelps back to da hoose, greetin aa da way
Back to neeb aside da roose
Nae more work for dee, du bonny langsome cat.

Much of my writing uses Shetland as the setting and therefore having a good command of dialect can be useful for setting the scene and creating a realistic voice for the characters. Although too much dialect makes it almost unintelligible for soothmoothers (people from outside of Shetland).

Whilst reading The Help by Kathryn Stocket, earlier this week, I was really struck by how well Ms Stocket created realistic voices for her three narrators. She used just enough dialect to create the ambience of the Deep South, without making it hard to read. Within just a couple of pages I got used to the rhythm and feel of the writing and inside my head it feels like I was speaking in another accent. It was a great lesson in how to use dialect and regional accents to good effect.

I cannot speak in any other accent than my own, but I love writing in another accent and creating different personalities and voices on the page. Moving around the UK and Ireland means that I have added some colourful new words to my vocabulary, so it is about time I ditched fabulous and replaced it with something else. How about brilliant, marvellous, wonderful or splendid?

Nah, I think I’ll stick with fabulous.