WHAT IS A COCKNEY.

Dunstan Times, Issue 3381, 4 July 1927, Page 7

WHAT IS A COCKNEY.

(By Elsa Lanchester.) The theatre-going public gives its favors curiously, but no one was more surprised than I when I found I had a reputation for Cockney parts! In no two of the Cockney plays and sketches in which I have_ taken part have I spoken the same dialect, and 1 often ask myself- the questions others ask me: “What is Cockney?” Cockney is a dialect that changes spoken by the average Londoner living in that vast conglomeration of factories, docks and houses called the East-end, but the extraordinary thing is that although they live only a mile or two away very few people in the West-end or suburbs can speak a sentence in Cockney correctly. This was brought home to me when reading the criticisms of Anthony Bertram’s Cockney play, “The Pool.” One critic said the language was that of “artistic Hampstead” rather than Rotherhithe, while others hotly maintained that here at last was real Cockney on the stage. Which was right? The former had expected Cockney as it is usually spoken on the stage, for the fact that in his criticism he confused Rotherhithe and Blackwall Tunnel —which are miles apart —shows be knew little of the East-end at first 1 hand. Most playgoers take their knowledge 04 Cockney from the various impersonators who, dressed in old clothes or pearlies, sing songs of the “My Old Dutch” type in the style of Albert Chevalier. Now, Chevalier was a fine artist, but also an idealist, and, however amusing his songs may be, neither their language nor their sentiments are Cockney. But he created a tradition. Cockney is a dialect that chnges year by year and even from district to district. Mr Bertram, who lived in Rotherhithe for some time, found that the pronunciation of certain words even varied according to the “gang” or club to which a young man belonged. But even the general ran of the language used east of Aldgate pump is very different from that often called Cockney on the stage. Ask anyone the Cockney for “lady” or like,” the the chances are they will tell you it is “lidy” with a long “i” and “loike.” That may have been the case 15 years ago, but the young Rotherhither of today calls it “lady” and “like”_ —his pronunciation cannot be phonetically distinguished from that of the purist. Cockney differs from “the King’s Tnglish,” not by reason of its drawn, but by its clippings and shortenings. “Where have you been?” for instance, becomes “Where yu bin?” the u being short and the “nave" omitted. The change that has taken place in Cockney is easily perceived when t a young man is conversing with an old one. The two men seem to be speaking different languages, for the old folk still drawl. 'There is little resemblance bewen the Cockney of Dickens and the language of East-enders today, yet there is no reason to believe that Dickens, who was a keen observer, ever wrote anything but the true Cockney of his time. Stage traditions die hard, and thea-tre-goers often prefer tradition to realism, but they are beginning to appreciate the true language and characteristics of the Cockney. The difficulty is that by the time they get used to them a new dialect will Have come in. and we shall have to start all over again!

A writer in a Home naper says:—“A cat of my acquaintance likes peanuts, will eat them when she refuses meat and milk. Evidently she enjoys the flavor, as she crunches them up with her sharp little teeth.” We may add that a resident of Oamaru at one time had a cat that developed such a strong liking for green peas that it would go along the rows and pull well filled pods, open the shells and eat their contents. Another resident tells of a cat that has taken a fancy to baked tomatoes.