More Shakespeare than you know

Think you don't know any Shakespeare?  You'd be surprised.  Happy Shakespeare's birthday. 

- "For goodness sake" - Henry VIII

- "Neither here not there" - Othello

- "Mum's the word" - Henry VI, Part II

- "Eaten out of house and home" - Henry IV, Part II

- "Knock knock! Who's there?" - Macbeth

- "All's well that ends well" - All's Well That Ends Well

- "With bated breath" - The Merchant of Venice

- "A wild goose chase" - Romeo and Juliet

- "Too much of a good thing" - As You Like It

- "A heart of gold" - Henry V

- "What the dickens" - The Merry Wives of Windsor

- "Puking" - As You Like It

- "Lie low" - Much Ado About Nothing

- "Dead as a doornail" - Henry VI, Part II

- "Not slept one wink" - Cymbeline

- "Foregone conclusion" - Othello

- "The world's mine oyster" - The Merry Wives of Windsor

- "In stitches" - Twelfth Night

- "Naked truth" - Love's Labour's Lost

- "Faint-hearted" - Henry VI, Part I


- "Send him packing" - Henry IV

- "Vanish into thin air" - Othello

- "Own flesh and blood" - Hamlet

- "Truth will out" - The Merchant of Venice

- "Give the devil his due" - Henry IV, Part I

- "There's method in my madness" - Hamlet

- "Salad days" - Antony and Cleopatra

- "Wear your heart on your sleeve" - Othello

- "Spotless reputation" - Richard II

- "Full circle" - King Lear

- "There's the rub" - Hamlet

- "All of a sudden" - The Taming of the Shrew

New words

I learned a new word. It's isogloss.

I like words. I've been a professional writer for most of my working life: journalist, public relations officer, communications manager. They are my talent, so it's quite rare when I learn a new one. I've already added it to my 26 words A-Z page .

One of the things about being a professional wordsmith is that I pride myself on being able to dissect words to work out what they might mean. I had no idea with this one.

The first part of the word, iso-, is derived from the Greek isos. It means 'equal'. It's sort of like the stem of isobar (a line on a map that shows connected points of equal pressure).  Or isomer (a compound with an identical chemical formula to another substance, but with differently-shaped molecules, like diamond and graphite).

The second part, -gloss, escaped me at first. It wasn't until I knew what the word meant that I made the connection. Like glossary, it's to do with language. In fact -gloss also derives from Greek, from the word glossa, meaning language.

So an isogloss is a line that defines the limit of a language, or more accurately in the study of linguistics, the limit of a dialect. It's the point at which "our 'ouse" (the way I pronounce the word) becomes "are 'arse" (the way they pronounce it in South Yorkshire).  Or similar boundaries in other parts of the country.

If you read my other blogs you'll know that this kind of thing fascinates me. I recently wrote a post about how different accents affect people's perception of the speaker. I discovered this word in a radio broadcast by the poet Ian McMillan called The 'Arse that Jack Built. It's still available online. Take a listen.

A quick break

ghoti

NaNo aside, I thought I'd give you something a little different this morning, though a lot of you might know it. Can you read that word above? It demonstrates one of the challenges that people learning English can face.

Think gh as in 'enough', o as in 'women' and ti as in 'nation'.  And what do you get?

*Diolch a nos da. A consideration of language

As a writer I pride myself on my use of language and extensive vocabulary. I have had a series of good teachers in the past, not just at school but also during my career as a journalist. When I am faced with a different country I am determined to try a few words, at least, of the local tongue. I can say hello, please, thank you and two beers in several languages, and I was even taught, one unusual Christmas Eve, to say Merry Christmas in Icelandic. (Gleðileg jól)

But I'm in Wales, and I have to admit that the local language is totally baffling. Not only are individual letters pronounced completely differently from English (For Rhug, hear Rig) but even within Welsh some letters are interchangeable. C and G, for example, often sound and mean exactly the same. So the Cymraeg live in Cymru, or Gymru (pronounced Cummri) depending on what appears to be the whim of the writer.

Yesterday I tried my first ever foray into Welsh speaking. (I can't say that the North Walian attitude towards my Englishness has encouraged me to try to be friendly to the locals, but ...) The nice lady in the pub at Llechwedd Slate Caverns  (I was proud of my attempt to say Llechwedd because I wasn't TOO far off) was kind and so when she brought my bowl of lobscows (pronounced surprisingly like it looks) I said 'diolch', to which she replied 'croeso'. When I admitted that it was my first attempt at speaking Welsh she said it sounded right and I'd done well.

It's a start. But I'm a long way off mastering Welsh and I doubt if I'll be doing any writing in it any time soon.

*Thank you and good night.

Reciting poetry and reading aloud

I wonder....

 Do kids still learn poems "off by heart" and have to recite them at school?
Back when I was a youngster (and God were a lad - as they say where I come from) we were encouraged to learn poems and recite to class members. Or at least read them aloud. I suspect that it helped create the love of language that has given me a career for most of my life.

There was a time when I knew this one - or at least the first verse - but I had simply forgotten it until it turned up on Platform 2 of Belper Station as part of the poetry trail (see yesterday's post). As soon as I started reading this it came back to me.

For K it triggered a memory of an old film that some of you might remember too. The Night Mail by W H Auden.

Do you remember any poetry and do you ever recite it?