{"id":32045,"date":"2015-07-20T04:00:30","date_gmt":"2015-07-20T08:00:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/?p=32045"},"modified":"2015-07-19T10:53:06","modified_gmt":"2015-07-19T14:53:06","slug":"british-humour-derives-from-the-sloppiness-of-our-language","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/2015\/07\/20\/british-humour-derives-from-the-sloppiness-of-our-language\/","title":{"rendered":"British humour &#8220;derives from the sloppiness of our language&#8221;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>In <em>sp!ked<\/em>, <a href=\"http:\/\/www.spiked-online.com\/newsite\/article\/why-british-humour-is-lost-in-translation\/17196\" target=\"_blank\">Patrick West<\/a> discusses the wellspring of British humour:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>The English have a reputation for being a funny people. This, I think, derives from the sloppiness of our language, the messiness of which leads to misunderstandings. Indeed, the word \u2018funny\u2019 itself has two meanings.<\/p>\n<p>Consider the old joke. \u2018My dog has no nose\u2019, says one. \u2018How does he smell?\u2019, asks another. \u2018Terrible!\u2019 This works because the English verb \u2018to smell\u2019 means both to sniff and to emit an odour. This joke wouldn\u2019t work in Italian, where there\u2019s no room for confusion. <em>\u2018Il cane sente l\u2019odore del cibo\u2019<\/em> means \u2018the dog smells the food\u2019; <em>\u2018Il cane puzza terribile\u2019<\/em> means \u2018the dog smells terrible\u2019.<\/p>\n<p>Romance languages also use reflexive verbs much more than we do, which also removes ambiguity. In Catalan, <em>\u2018ofegar\u2019<\/em> means to suffocate someone or something else, and <em>\u2018ofegar-se\u2019<\/em> means for oneself to suffocate. In English, \u2018to suffocate\u2019 can mean to asphyxiate or to strangle, two very different things.<\/p>\n<p>Italian has <em>\u2018sentire\u2019<\/em> meaning \u2018to feel (something)\u2019 and <em>\u2018sentirsi\u2019<\/em> meaning \u2018to feel\u2019 \u2013 the latter pertaining to your internal self. To feel cold is <em>\u2018sentire freddo\u2019<\/em>, while to feel like doing something is <em>\u2018sentirsi di fare\u2019<\/em>. English doesn\u2019t have that distinction.<\/p>\n<p>[&#8230;]<\/p>\n<p>English is ripe for misunderstanding. Children are amused by the construction \u2018I feel like an apple\u2019, as they are yet to comprehend that \u2018like\u2019 is the equivalent of the preposition \u2018similar to\u2019, as well as a verb. That \u2018your\u2019 and \u2018you\u2019re\u2019 sound the same gives us verbal jokes like the one I heard on BBC Radio 4 this week:<\/p>\n<ul>\n<p><em>\u2018Two nuns are driving along when the devil suddenly appears on their car bonnet, surrounded by fire and brimstone. One nun says to the other: \u201cQuick, show him your cross.\u201d The other leans out the window and shouts, \u201cGet off my fucking bonnet!\u201d.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<\/ul>\n<p>Then there\u2019s the dual role of the apostrophe. In speech, \u2018Gerrards Cross\u2019 can either be a village in Buckinghamshire, a cross that belongs to Gerrard, or the state of mind of a Liverpool footballer who hasn\u2019t been picked for the England team.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In sp!ked, Patrick West discusses the wellspring of British humour: The English have a reputation for being a funny people. This, I think, derives from the sloppiness of our language, the messiness of which leads to misunderstandings. Indeed, the word \u2018funny\u2019 itself has two meanings. Consider the old joke. \u2018My dog has no nose\u2019, says [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,57],"tags":[400],"class_list":["post-32045","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-britain","category-humour","tag-language"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2hpV6-8kR","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32045","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=32045"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32045\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":32046,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32045\/revisions\/32046"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=32045"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=32045"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=32045"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}