Internet Quotes: Langland on the Decline of English

4 September 2015

I’ve come across the following quotation in a number of places, such as this article from The Economist:

There is not a single modern schoolboy who can compose verses or write a decent letter.

The quotation is attributed to William Langland, author of Piers Plowman, who died in 1386. The problem is that I could only find the quotation in modern translation and it sounds distinctly un-Middle Englishy, so I doubted that it was authentic. Because I could only find it in translation, tracking it down was difficult—it’s hard to search for a Middle English quotation if you don’t have the Middle English diction. It turns out that the quote is genuine, but it is a rather free translation.

The key to finding the original, or rather originals given that Langland produced multiple versions of Piers Plowman (he continually tinkered with the poem throughout his life), was the word verse. I hazarded a guess that “compose verses” was originally the verb to versify, and the OED had the citation under “verse, v.1”

The lines appear in the middle of a rather long diatribe about the general decline of knowledge and tradecraft, as well as other ills. Wicked priests, counterfeit coinage, failed astronomers, incompetent farmers, and lost ship’s navigators all come under fire. The passage in the B-text is in Passus 15, lines 371–75:

Grammer, the ground of al, bigileth now children:
For is noon of thise newe clerkes—whoso nymeth hede—
That kan versifie faire ne formaliche enditen,
Ne naught oon among an hundred that an auctour kan construwe,
Ne rede a lettre in any language but in Latyn or in Englissh.

(Grammar, the basis of all, now beguiles children:
For there are none of these new university students—of those who take heed—
That can versify fairly or write formally,
There is not one among a hundred that can construe an authority,
Nor read a letter in any language other than Latin or English.)

The C-text has the passage in Passus 17, lines 108–11 and it reads a bit differently:

Gramer, the grounde of al, bigileth nouthe childrene,
For is noon of thise newe clerkes, ho-so nymeth hede,
That can versifye vayre or formallych endite
Ne construe kyndelyche that poetes made.

(Grammar the basis of all, now beguiles children,
For there are none of these new university students—of those who take heed—
That can versify fairly or write formally
Nor construe properly what poets have made.)

Langland says nothing about “writ[ing] a decent letter.” In the B-text he does bemoan the fact that English scholars can’t read a letter in languages other than Latin or English, but says nothing about writing them. The translation of clerk as “schoolboy” is also questionable. The word schoolboy connotes a relatively young age, but clerk, which is the ancestor of the modern cleric, referred to clergy, often used in the context of someone who could read and write. It could also refer to a university student—as in Chaucer’s clerk—but the word wouldn’t be applied to what we now dub a schoolboy. Also the word grammar has shifted in meaning considerably. In Langland’s time, the word was only used in reference to Latin. And auctour poses a bit of a problem. It is the source of the our modern author, but in Middle English an auctour was an authority, a source of knowledge; the word would not normally be applied to a poet except insofar as a poet wrote about history. Langland confuses this when he changes it in the C-text to poet. Did he mean auctour as poet, or did he change his mind as to what the passage meant as he revised it?

[Addition: Ben Zimmer just wrote me, pointing out that Langland’s letter is almost certainly a reference to the alphabet, and not a reference to reading an epistle. Langland is saying that they can’t read any other languages at all.]

So a more accurate modern translation would read something like:

Latin, the basis of all, now beguiles children. None of these new university students can compose good poetry or write formally. Not one in a hundred can properly interpret what an author has written, or even read anything at all that is not written in Latin or English.

Langland was indeed bemoaning the state of learning, but not in the way people bemoan the supposed decline of English today. He was concerned with the fact that scholars didn’t know languages other than Latin and English, and the schoolchildren were not even learning good Latin. He was not going on about the decline of English, which was in the process of re-establishing itself as the prestige language in place of Anglo-Norman French, with poets like him, Chaucer, and Gower, once again composing serious verse in it.

[Edit: I’ve rephrased the final paragraph, removing the terms acrolect and basilect, which aren’t quite applicable in this context.]

[This is the second in an irregular series of posts on various quotations posted to the internet—so irregular that the first was nearly two years ago. The internet is a wonderful source of information, but when it comes to quotations it is abysmal. I’ll lay good money down, giving odds, that any given quotation taken from the internet is defective in some way.]


Sources:

Langland, William, Piers Plowman: A New Annotated Edition of the C-Text (1978), Derek Pearsall, ed., University of Liverpool Press, 2014.

Langland, William, The Vision of Piers Plowman: A Critical Edition of the B-Text Based on Trinity College Cambridge MS B.15.17, A. V. C. Schmidt, ed., Everyman, 1995.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s. v. verse, v.1

Finding Movie Quotations

5 July 2015

Ever get a line from a movie stuck in your head but you can’t remember the film it’s from? Or you’ve got a twenty riding on a bar-bet about the accuracy of a TV quote?

Despair no more. The site QuoDB.com has the answers.

The site is a huge database of movie and television scripts, and it will pinpoint down to the second where in the film the quote appears. For instance, I looked up the word multi-pass:

01:09:24 Multi-pass.
The Fifth Element (1997)
01:09:18 - And this is?
01:09:21 - Leeloo Dallas. Multi-pass.
01:09:24 - Multi-pass.
01:09:25 - She knows it’s a multi-pass.
01:09:27 - My wife. We’re newlyweds. Just met.

The site tells me the word appears five other times in the film, and details on those are only a mouse-click away.

Definitely a site worth bookmarking.

[Tip o’ the hat to Languagehat]

Kryptonite in the OED

25 June 2015

The latest additions to the OED Online includes an entry for kryptonite. Definition:

In the fictional world of the comic book hero Superman: a substance that renders Superman weak and powerless. Hence in figurative or allusive use: something that can weaken or damage a particular person or thing; an Achilles heel.

And the dictionary includes the following note:

Kryptonite is most commonly depicted as a green mineral that came to earth from Krypton, Superman’s home planet, following its destruction. Other types have appeared in various comic books, films, etc., each having different properties.

Kryptonite first appears on the Superman radio program in 1943. It’s comic book appearance dates from 1949. The earliest figurative use cited by the OED is from 1965.

The Word The Internet Didn’t Know

25 June 2015

Not really.

The word parbunkells got a flurry of press coverage starting a few days ago, such as this piece from Popular Mechanics. Artist Julia Weist rented a billboard in Queens to feature the word, claiming that it was a forgotten seventeenth-century word that did not appear on the internet. Gizmodo declared the word to be “dead to the digital world—and to almost every living person.” Weist was trying to make a point about how information is shared over the internet, telling Gizmodo:

The word has also become a shortcut to a portrait of meaning making and content production on the Internet, both human and non-human, in the sense that you can search for it and see spools of information, reaction, conversation, re-context- ualization and response. In that sense it’s all or nothing, and now that word has been used, the more usage the better.

But she chose a bad example to make her point, and the mainstream media covering the story got a lot wrong. 

The story is kind of an object lesson in not making claims until you’ve done some research or at least spoken to experts in the field. Parbunkells, or parbuckle as it is more usually spelled now, is not a forgotten word. It does have a life of its own on the internet and in meatspace. It’s even in the OED. And if you Google parbunkell, the search engine offers help by asking, “Did you mean parbuckle?” So the word, while rare, wasn’t exactly hiding. Two minutes of poking about would have turned it up.

The OED defines the word as, “a rope, cable, etc., arranged like a sling, used to raise or lower heavy objects vertically.” Popular Mechanics and many of the mainstream outlets that reported the story gave its definition as the vague, “coming together through the binding of two ropes,” proof that writing a good definition is an acquired skill. The word, used mainly in naval and maritime jargon, is attested to as early as 1625, and the early spellings are parbunkel or parbuncle. The word’s origin is uncertain. It may be a borrowing of a Scandinavian term. The par- element is related to pair. The -bunkel is the uncertain bit. In the seventeenth century the spelling parbuckle began to appear, a folk etymology or eggcorn created out of confusion with buckle. The parbuckle spelling quickly became the standard.

The word is first recorded in 1625 in Henry Mainwaring’s Nomenclator Navalis:

A Parbuncle is a rape which is used in ye nature of a paire of Slings.

It also appears in John Smith’s 1627 A Sea Grammar, which is evidently where Wiest found it. Mainwaring’s book exists as a manuscript in the British Library, but has been reprinted at various times over the centuries. Smith’s book is available via Early English Books Online.

The word is still in use. The OED has a citation from as late as 1997 in the Daily Telegraph.

Gizmodo asks, “It’s easy to fall into the trapping of thinking the internet knows everything, but it doesn’t. Oddities like this makes you wonder how much other knowledge is lying on dusty shelves, waiting to be rediscovered.” To which I respond, does Gizmodo know how to use the internet?