The centennial commemoration of the start of the First World War has brought to the fore some of the music of that war, including an unsung gem that could well be the greatest fight song of all time.
(Granted, it’s not exactly unsung, since it’s a song. And the BBC recently praised it for its musical qualities.
But the song, “Pack Up Your Troubles,” has yet to be appreciated for its matchless galvanizing effect as pure language. And not really matchless, either, since it calls for a match.)
My all-time favorite Chronicle article, “Yagoda’s Unfamiliar Quotations” (mentioned here once before, in The Case of the Extra Word), is a reminiscence about a collection of unquoted quotables—memorable remarks by ordinary folk who never got famous.
You can pick up such remarks almost any day if you keep your ear tuned. Last week my partner, struggling to pinpoint why a friend’s outrageous name-dropping seemed illogical as well as irritating, burst out: “Status is not like pubic lice!” Nicely pu…
Una and the Redcross Knight
Whoa, that’s Shakespeare. (Sonnet 60.) But it’s the best description I know of the verse form invented by his contemporary Edmund Spenser for The Fairy Queen, a marathon of a poem set in an allegorical Fairyland full of “fierce wars and faithful loves” (in Spenser’s words) and populated by believable characters. If you get the olde fashyonde spelyng out of the way, and concentrate on the story rather than the complicated allegory, as I have argued in two previou…
Last week I regretted that modern editors use olde fashyondde spelyng for The Faerie Queene, the grand poem by Shakespeare’s contemporary Edmund Spenser. We modernize spelling for Shakespeare and just about every author of that time, but not Spenser. And that puts an unnecessary barrier between Spenser and the modern reader.
And as I noted last week, olde spellynge is not the only barrier for modern readers. To begin with, the title Fairy Queen (to use modern spelling) has connotations today tha…
Rayse your hand yff you prefer reedying olde wrytynges in olde-fashionede spellyng. Anyone for Shakespeare’s Sonnette 73?
That time of yeeare thou maist in me behold,
When yellow leaues, or none, or fewe doe hange
Vpon those boughes which shake against the could,
Bare rn’wd quiers, where late the sweet birds sang. …
No, thank goodness we usually get it in modern spelling. Same words, different look:
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
The game at lolmythesis.com is to reduce the main message of your thesis or dissertation down to a single line, ideally one short candid sentence. Much self-deprecating humor can be found on the site, along with occasional signs of cynicism or desperation.
Not many theses in my discipline show up, for linguistics is a minority pursuit. But I did find this one, from the University of Colorado:
“It appears, based on experimental evidence, that vowel perception is pretty much magic.”
I can well bel…
Elizabeth Bishop in 1954
I’ve been waiting 40 years for The Incredible Sestina Anthology (Write Bloody Publishing), without realizing it. Like many people, I was introduced to this poetic form by Elizabeth Bishop’s breathtaking poem “Sestina,” which originally appeared in The New Yorker in 1956 (hence the spelling of the key word “marvellous”), and which my roommate was reading for a college class. The poem begins:
September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
“What’s going on with this ’twas ever thus thing?” said my partner, Tricia. The phrase had been uttered twice before 9 a.m. on the BBC’s radio news program already that morning. Prime Minister David Cameron said it when talking about Syria, and later another Conservative politician used it in a segment about badger culling.
“A couple of years ago I’d never heard it,” said Tricia, “but now everyone’s saying it.”
Casual claims about the suddenness of additions to the language are al…
Professors of a certain age, start your engines!
And students of a certain different age, start yours too. It’s time to begin daydreaming about the coming academic year.
Not about grades and exams and papers, of course, but about the things that really matter—romance, passion, sex.
The inspiration comes from a hot new novel, My Education by Susan Choi. No, I haven’t read it, but listen to this snippet from Amazon.com:
“Regina Gottlieb had been warned about Professor Nicholas Brodeur long befor…
Every once in a while, even in the age of e-mail and Paperless Post, a professor needs to send an old-fashioned greeting card, one of those folded notes with lovely pictures and great effusions of sentiment printed on sturdy cardboard stock. Outside of a hymnal, the greeting card may be the only place most people read verse on purpose.
The greeting-card business has seen a lot of changes in 30 years. Now cards are in the drug store (in Aisle 8, just past the aspirin), or they’re near the holiday…