{"id":1017,"date":"2014-10-03T09:39:40","date_gmt":"2014-10-03T08:39:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/?p=1017"},"modified":"2014-10-03T10:54:26","modified_gmt":"2014-10-03T09:54:26","slug":"scots-english-do-you-know-your-teuchters-from-your-sassenachs","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/?p=1017","title":{"rendered":"Scots English: do you know your teuchters from your sassenachs?"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Mind your Language (The Guardian), 3-10-2014<\/strong><\/p>\n

Irrespective of the political fallout from the independence referendum, the UK\u2019s language patchwork is stronger having retained the rich tradition of Scots English<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"An
An illustration from The Poetical Works of Robert Burns (1888), showing Tam o\u2019 Shanter with his \u2018drouthy neibors\u2019 \u2013 thirsty fellows in the pub.\u00a0Photograph: \/flickr<\/a><\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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There is an old Scottish joke, no doubt baffling to the majority of English speakers, that goes something like this: what do you call a pigeon that goes to Aviemore for its holidays? A skean dhu.<\/p>\n

If you\u2019re not laughing, don\u2019t feel too bad, as the joke neatly illustrates how comprehension of language is intrinsically linked with considerations of geography, pronunciation and dialect. Throw in a punchline that borrows from Scottish Gaelic, and the joke becomes incomprehensible to all but most Scots.<\/p>\n

To decipher it, you need to know three things: that Aviemore is Scotland\u2019s most popular skiing resort; that the Gaelic\u00a0skean dhu<\/em>, which is the ceremonial dagger worn in your sock if you\u2019re in full Highland dress (it means, literally, black dagger), is pronounced similar to \u201cskiing doo\u201d; and that the word dhu\/doo is regional slang for a dove or pigeon. OK, the joke won\u2019t win any prizes, but I\u2019ve had worse from Christmas crackers.<\/p>\n

A note about the terminology. Scots English, used predominantly in the Lowlands and populous central belt of Scotland, is a dialect of English. Though it\u00a0has its own dictionary<\/a>, it is not a language in its own right, unlike Scottish Gaelic. It\u2019s also worth mentioning that Scottish Gaelic is pronounced something like GAH-lick, rather than the common GAY-lick pronunciation of its Irish linguistic cousin.<\/p>\n

\"Ness
Ness is made up of a collection of villages and crofts at the northern end of the Isle of Lewis.<\/span>\u00a0Photograph: Murdo MacLeod\/Guardian<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Scots has its own esteemed body of literature, most notably the poems of Robert Burns, and is peppered with words that leave most other English speakers scratching their heids (another Scots dialectal form): shuggle for shake, niffle-naffle for wasting time, the exuberantly satisfying gontrum niddles for a cry of joy, and countless others. Swithering, for hesitating, may have become more familiar during the independence referendum campaign as applied, not entirely flatteringly, to undecided voters.<\/p>\n

I have something of a fascination with Scots English, and particularly the influence of Scottish Gaelic upon it. Though I am Cheshire-born and raised, my dad is from Inverness in the Scottish Highlands; my grandparents grew up in the community of Ness on Lewis \u2013 the northernmost of the Western Isles, now officially known by their Gaelic name, Eilean Siar.<\/p>\n

During our family\u2019s regular visits up to Inverness (the amenities on offer at every service station on the M6, M74 and A9 remain burned in my mind) I remember sitting quietly outside the kitchen door just listening to my grandparents talk. Their native tongue was all rolling, melodic vowels and exotic, throaty consonants. I was engrossed. If they caught me lurking, Granny would pinch my cheek and call me\u00a0garai<\/em>\u00a0(darling). At family weddings when\u00a0shennair<\/em>\u00a0(Grandad) made slightly ponderous speeches, I had to remind myself to give him a break, as English was not his first language.<\/p>\n

\"Gaelic
Gaelic language signs point the way at Ludag, South Uist, looking over the Sound of Eriskay.<\/span>\u00a0Photograph: Murdo MacLeod\/Guardian<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Gaelic remains the first language of many people in the Hebrides, and the more remote parts of the coastal Highlands. My aunt, from the island of North Uist, spoke Gaelic exclusively at home with her five sisters and two brothers, and was only forced to speak English when starting school aged five. Though now the matriarch of a growing English-speaking family, she still admits to thinking \u2013 and very occasionally swearing \u2013 in Gaelic. The word\u00a0donas<\/em>, which equates to little devil or imp, was a particular favourite.<\/p>\n

What had never occurred to me, until I thought to ask my aunt about it, was that many of these generations of Gaelic speakers never learned to read or write in the language \u2013 or even stick to consistent spellings, which is why you\u2019ll often find three or four different versions of a given name depending on which part of the Highlands or islands you are concerned with. For example, the Gaelic equivalent of Kirsty can be variously spelled Ciorstaidh, Ciorstag or, closest to its pronunciation (to English eyes), Curstag.<\/p>\n

Written Gaelic is, however, undergoing something of a revival \u2013 at least in metropolitan areas. In 2005, the Scottish parliament passed the Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act, seeking to secure Gaelic\u2019s status as an official language of Scotland, equal with English.\u00a0The number of pupils beginning their primary education in Gaelic has risen by 13% in the past year<\/a>, according to the latest figures. But the language continues to struggle in rural areas and the Western Isles, mirroring the population decline as young people leave their communities for jobs in the cities.<\/p>\n

As Bill Bryson notes in Mother Tongue, his examination of modern English usage, speakers of Scots, particularly in the Highlands, have developed certain speech patterns clearly influenced by Gaelic phrasings, saying \u201ctake that here\u201d rather than \u201cbring that here\u201d and \u201cI\u2019m seeing you\u201d in preference to \u201cI see you\u201d. And many Gaelic words have become accepted part of Scots vocabulary: sl\u00e0inte, ceilidh, bothy, caber.<\/p>\n

These words \u2013 and the many others not of Gaelic origin that make up the bulk of Scots vocabulary \u2013 enrich the language inordinately. In chip shops, for example, who can deny that adding the word supper is a far classier way to say \u201cand chips\u201d? That \u201cred pudding\u201d is a more appetising prospect than sausage in batter? (Just remember to say you want a carryout, and not a takeaway, unless you want to sound like a sassenach (see below).<\/p>\n

A few more of my favourite Scots words and expressions follow. Feel free to add your own in the comments below. And sl\u00e0inte!<\/p>\n

Some examples of Scots English – and their translations<\/h2>\n
\"Some
Edinburgh festival tourists negotiate some dreich weather.<\/span>\u00a0Photograph: Alamy<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Drouthy<\/strong><\/p>\n

Thirsty, although more along the lines of wanting a strong drink. In the Burns poem Tam o\u2019 Shanter, the drouthy neibors (neighbours) may well be alcoholic.<\/p>\n

Sassenach<\/strong><\/p>\n

Derogatory Highlands word for a Lowland Scot or English person.<\/p>\n

Teuchter<\/strong><\/p>\n

What a Lowland Scot might term a Highlander after being called a sassenach.<\/p>\n

Dreich<\/strong><\/p>\n

If at least three of the following types of weather are happening simultaneously, it\u2019s dreich: overcast, wet, cold, misty, gloomy.\u00a0Was last year voted Scots\u2019 favourite word<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Blether<\/strong><\/p>\n

What my aunt does on the phone to her sisters. Gossip, talk at length without pause.<\/p>\n

Wheesht!<\/strong><\/p>\n

What you might say to someone who is blethering too much; Shush!<\/p>\n

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Mind your Language (The Guardian), 3-10-2014 Irrespective of the political fallout from the independence referendum, the UK\u2019s language patchwork is stronger having retained the rich tradition of Scots English An illustration from The Poetical Works of Robert Burns (1888), showing Tam o\u2019 Shanter with his \u2018drouthy neibors\u2019 \u2013 thirsty fellows in the pub.\u00a0Photograph: \/flickr There […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1018,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2,13,56],"tags":[153,172,152],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1017"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1017"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1017\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1018"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1017"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1017"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jesusromerotrillo.es\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1017"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}