The Bookman

Evening Post, Volume CXXXI, Issue 127, 31 May 1941, Page 15

The Bookman

NEW ZEALAND ENGLISH STANDARD AND SLANG Professor Arnold Wall's "New Zealand English," described as "A Guide to the Correct Pronunciation of English, with special reference to New Zealand conditions and problems," originally published in 1938, reappears in a second edition, "revised and enlarged." Simultaneously submitted i'or review is "New Zealand Slang," by Mr. S. J. Baker, author of a "Dictionary of Australian Slang and Colloquialisms.'" Both books, attractively printed and bound, are published by Messrs. Whitcombe and Tombs. Both are extremely interesting, the - first dealing with "standard" English as recommended for New Zealand use, the second with New Zealand English as it is spoken, particularly slang and its historic growth. Both represent a great deal of research, the results of which are set out in a scholarly way of particular value to those concerned with educating the public, whether in the school1, over the air, or from the platform. The new edition of "New Zealand English" introduces the phonetic representation authorised by the University of New Zealand for use in all its examinations with the adoption of the "Standardised International Phonetic Alphabet." Incidentally, lovers of good print will be shocked once more by this "printers' pie" of about all the types in the world's fonts of various languages and including mathematical signs. It is a pity type designers could not have been called on to invent new forms of letters for an international alphabet; it could have been done. Then . there is the more important question of "standard" English. What is "standard" English? The author describes it variously as the English "spoken by the 'best' speakers in the Old Land," the "speech of the besteducated and conscientious (but not too conscientious) speakers of English, especially in Southern England" and, quoting Professor Daniel Jones in his "Pronouncing Dictionary," "that pronunciation most usually heard in the families of Southern English people who have been educated in the public schools." Why, an American, an Australian, a New Zealander, or a resident of the British Isles who does not hail from Southern England, may well ask, this criterion? Why should one speak this "standard" English? The author disarms the criticism in the first sentence of his introduction: "This book is designed for use by residents in New Zealand who wish to speak 'good' English, or 'standard' English, as spoken, etc.; it is not intended for those who wish to develop a new dialect of English in this country, nor for those who openly say that they care nothing for standards or authorities but mean i to pronounce English words as they please."

11 It is interesting to quote Mr. Baker's "New Zealand Slang" on this point (Chapter X): Even the best-educated Xew Zealanders, unless they are freshly-returned from England, after fairly long residence there, do not speak with the educated Southern English accent (which is loosely accepted as "standard" Eiibi lish pronunciation), and, moreover, New ZeaI landers with a "borrowed accent" tend to lose it rapidly on returning to their country. Mr. Baker also quotes the editor of "National Education" (March, 1940): "New Zealand speech is distinctively of New Zealand. Nothing is to be gained and much to be lost by foisting a Southern English dialect upon our children." A "Southern English dialect" is exactly how the millions of "outsiders," the vast majority of the Eng-lish-speaking people, would describe it. There is no particular harm in it, if people choose to use it, naturally or artificially, in ordinary social intercourse; it is different when it is imposed—or when an attempt is made to impose it —on the listening public the world over by the 8.8.C. and its imitators overseas. It will no doubt be impossible to assess the damage done before and during the present war to the cause for which we are fighting by the "standard" English of the 8.8.C. announcers and commentators, but let the average reader and listener consider his own feelings when listening in to the news and the talks that follow. It is well known that Americans, on whose friendship so much in this war depends, dislike the 8.8.C. speech and manner intensely, and much prefer the broad accents, say. of J. B. Priestley, the Yorkshireman, whom they insisted on having back to the microphone from retirement, or of the British Labour leaders, in the Cabinet and out, with their speech of the shires or of Scotland and Wales. Above all, they prefer Mr. Churchill himself, who, emphatically, does not speak "standard" English, but has a marked Midland accent and intonation. President Roosevelt, everyone must admit, speaks the best of English, but it is certainly not "standard." Why then should we be asked to listen to "standard" English from the 8.8.C. and the local broadcasters? The fact is that there is the greatest need for a standard English for international broadcasting, but it could not. be the "standard" English recommended by the 8.8.C. and ProfessorWall, which is a most difficult dialect to master in all its shades of vowel sounds and syllabic stresses. Even the most versatile artists at Hollywood have failed in their attempts, but this is not to say that they have not improved on their original American. For an English to be used internationally the first essential would be a purification of vowel sounds and an approach to uniformity. It is not refinement that is wanted, but clarity,! simplicity, and strength. "Standard" English is "refined" enough in all conscience and could never, as such, be- , come a universal language. The subject cannot be amplified further here beyond saying that the "experts." "professional phoneticians." "scientific men," of whom Professor Wall (p. 6) speaks as making a "lifestudy of English pronunciation," might well turn their attention to this vastly more important problem of studying how to create an international English, for all purposes, that will be easy to understand when heard or read and ! easy to speak and write. To do the job might call for the appointment of an international committee, including representatives of the peoples of the British Empire and of the United States, but the job could be done. It would be easier and far more useful than trying to impose "standard" English on the worlds (Q.). '

HHHE chrysanthemums hung heavy A heads against the rain-wet hedge.. Each shining hedge leaf, as bright as an emerald, threw up the lovely copper and bronze of the curling petals until they looked like flowers fashioned of metal. Aunt Searle was proud of her beautiful blooms, but to Carol, who spent most of her lonely hours in the garden, their tousled locks belonged to imagined playmates. She had named each one—names very different from the splendid titles in the gardener's catalogue. That 'tall flecked brown head belonged to "Nicky," a mischievous elf of a girl. The delicate, pale gold head belonged to Eleanor, a languid child who was a model of good behaviour. The sturdy red-curled one belonged to Ginger, a ragamuffin who was always planning some new mischief. Carol kept her garden children strictly secret. Aunt Searle. had she known, would have said in her crisp voice, "You are too old for such babyish games!" But Aunt Sea lie was at that moment in the drawing-room, pouring pale amber lea into fragile teacups of hyacinth blue. In her mind Carol could see her long, pale fingers lifting the tall, silver teapot, passing thin sandwiches, and speaking in her quiet, precise voice to her visitor, a new neighbour, Mrs. Simon Wills Carol had wanted to look longer at Mrs. Wills but she had been gently shepherded out of the drawing-room with just a fleeting memory of an oval face above dark furs and a mouth that 1 curved as though everything was a joke. Mrs. Wills came from America.

Carol sighed. She was tired of pretending. She sauntered towards her peephole in the hedge and looked through. She was looking to see if she could see anything of Marigold, the child who lived across the road. She waited some time and at last was rewarded with a gleam of scarlet on the opposite drive. She held her breath with excitement. Somehow, watching Marigold always made her feel like that, for the yellow-haired girl did some surprising things. Sometimes she climbed the tree by the gate and swung by her legs. She dressed up in strange costumes and today she was wearing scarlet shorts! What would Aunt Searle say if she saw them. She had already told Carol that she did not consider the newcomer a suitable playmate. "The child is allowed to run wild," she had objected. "And I don't approve of her father's books!" Carol had no argument against that. Suddenly Aunt Searle's voice made her start and draw back from the hedge. "Carol!" called her aunt from where she stood with Mrs. Wills at the front door, "Something that'll please you—Mrs. Wills has invited you to a party." "It's for my little Veronica," smiled Mrs. Wills. "All her young friends are coming. There'll be fireworks and games!" Carol managed to find breath enough to say thank you. It was to be a fancy dress party and Aunt Searle was making her a "Lavender Lady" frock. It was flowed and frilly with dear little bows of lilac satin. The party guests had been asked to,

arrive at four. Aunt Searle took Carol in a taxi and left her at the Wills's doorway. The "Lavender Lady" was welcomed in the lantern-hung hall and taken into Veronica's apple-blossom bedroom to leave her warm cape. There seemed to be peals of laughter, bumping noises, and running footsteps all over the house, and from the danceroom music was drifting. It made her feet in her satin slippers long to dance. Veronica in her quaint, drawling voice called to her to hurry, and together they ran down the stairs. Down in the hall a tall pirate in shining black boots and a scarlet sash levelled a gun at her in startling fashion. "By my cutlass!" said he gruffly, "here's a comely maiden!" As he leaned forward his brass earrings, swung beneath his close-drawn 'kerchief and a blacked tooth gave him a sinister smile, but his eyes twinkled. "A dance, fair maid, or away you'll sail in the 'Jolly Roger'," bullied the pirate. When Veronica laughed merrily, Carol joined in too, and away she ran with the pirate. She soon found out that he was not nearly as fierce as he looked. He too understood the game of "Lets Pretend." Together they watched the fireworks breaking into fairy rainbows, flowers, and spirals against the dark sky. The evening was vanishing like mag':. Carol wished it might never end. She was going to fee] lonelier than ever when it came time to say •'Good-bye." If only Aunt Searle didn't think that boys were too rough for playfellows! Aunt Searle had said that Mrs. Wills would drive her home but, as theyj

gathered to say good-night the pirate announced: "My good man Long John will be steering the homeward course. I should be honoured, fair maid, if you would accompany us. Our hostess has given her consent." Carol's eyes sparkled. She wondered who was "Long John," but she was soon to know. He came sweeping up the drive at the wheel of a long car. His coat collar was turned up and his [ hat down, so that Carol could not see much more than a pair of twinkling eyes. "To the helm, man," commanded the pirate, "and follow my orders or it'll be the worse for 'cc!" The big man turned obediently and with a churning of gravel, the car turned homewards. The pirate lounged back in. the seat and. pushed back his 'kerchief impatiently. CaroJ gaped, for under it had tumbled a crop of yellow-gold curls. ■. '. . "We'll, that was good fun," breathed the pirate-ess contentedly. "I'll see you tomorrow, perhaps. I live just across the road. "Yes," put in Long John. "You must come over and play with Bobbie." They pulled up outside her own door and Carol had scarcely collected her breath when Aunt Searle appeared and began to talk to Long John. "I've always called you 'Marigold,' n said the Lavender Lady sleepily. "O, I'm no garden flower!" laughed Bobbie, and Carol felt guilty, as, in a flash she seemed to see in a row the chrysanthemum children, "Nicky" and "Ginger" and "Lady Eleanor." She> wouldn't need them any more. KM*/.