tag:theconversation.com,2011:/ca/topics/swear-words-19007/articles
Swear words – The Conversation
2024-03-05T12:03:12Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/225050
2024-03-05T12:03:12Z
2024-03-05T12:03:12Z
Wicked Little Letters: this hilarious detective story is a meditation on the art of swearing
<p>Wicked Little Letters is not a film about swearing, but it’s safe to say that swearing is a big part of what makes it such a great story. In 1920 Edith Swan (Olivia Colman), a well-to-do, devout Christian spinster who lives with her elderly parents in the southern English seaside town of Littlehampton, receives anonymous, abusive letters that are bristling with expletives. </p>
<p>Suspicion falls on Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley), the Swans’ next-door neighbour. Gooding is hard-drinking, foul-mouthed and – horror of horrors – does not clean out the bath that she shares with the Swans. Inspired by a true story, the film is part soap opera about neighbourly conflict, part cosy teatime detective story. And it’s also a showcase for some delightful swearing – <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/for-fcks-sake-9780190665067">a topic I explored in my recent book</a>.</p>
<p>In the course of telling the true story of the Littlehampton letters, Wicked Little Letters shines a light on some of the most fascinating aspects of swearing. One of these aspects is the hilarity that can result from the incongruity of encountering a swearword at an unexpected moment, from an unexpected person, and in an unexpected context. This can be unpleasant, especially if it’s you who’s on the receiving end of a sweary insult. But it can also lead to delight and glee. </p>
<p>The latter is what we get with this film, and it’s a time-tested formula. As philosopher Immanuel Kant remarked in his <a href="https://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/bernard-the-critique-of-judgement">Critique of Judgement</a>: “In everything that is to excite a lively convulsive laugh there must be something absurd.”</p>
<p>It’s unlikely that anyone who chooses to watch Wicked Little Letters is going to be caught off guard by swearing, but even so, we very much hit the ground running. The film opens in the Swans’ front room, just as Edith has received yet another anonymous letter. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">The trailer for Wicked Little Letters.</span></figcaption>
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<p>Edith herself is demure and prim, and the family gathering (her parents are sitting at the table with her) is straight-backed and proper. If this atmosphere of austere respectability is the setup, then the sweary contents of the letter are the punchline.</p>
<p>Hypocrisy is another theme explored in the film through swearing. Many characters who are outraged by the letters (or, perhaps more accurately, at the idea of letters like these being penned by a woman) are unconcerned by far more pressing moral matters. </p>
<p>Edith’s father (Timothy Spall) is contemptuous of the suffragette movement’s attempt to give women like his daughter the right to vote. Police officers who condemn the sweary letter writer unhesitatingly use similar language to gossip about their sexual escapades. </p>
<p>Hypocrisy is evident, too, in contemporary attitudes about swearing. In 2012, the team working on the Ken Loach film, The Angel’s Share, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2012/may/22/ken-loach-bbfc-hypocritical">complained about the hypocrisy</a> of the British Board of Film Classification. The board refused to grant a 15 certificate, opting for an 18 due to the film’s swearing. Yet it has awarded 15 certificates to films depicting torture, racism, violence and cruelty. All subjects far more shocking and concerning than swearing.</p>
<h2>The power of swearing</h2>
<p>The film also explores how satisfying it can be to swear. Letting rip with powerful language is so cathartic that, as <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/19590391/">research has shown</a>, it can help us withstand pain. </p>
<p>Swearing has this power in large part because we know we’re not supposed to be doing it. It’s fun because it goes against the rules. For the characters in Wicked Little Letters, there are plenty of exasperating rules to rail against. </p>
<p>The values of the time not only forbade women from voting, but also held them to high and ridiculous standards of decorum. The ridiculousness of these values did not stop women from internalising them. Rose Gooding forbids her daughter from the unbecoming activity of playing the guitar, while Edith Swan pastes on a smile while her father exerts his tyrannical authority over the household. </p>
<p>It was an especially frustrating time for women to endure such oppression. As Mabel (Eileen Atkins), a neighbour of Swan and Gooding, observes at one point, women were called upon to do all manner of traditionally masculine work during the first world war. But once the war ended, they were expected to return to docile domesticity. They had plenty to swear about.</p>
<h2>The right way to swear</h2>
<p>Toward the end of the film, there’s an entertaining discussion about how to swear properly.</p>
<p>Rose Gooding thinks that “foxy ass piss country whore” – a real turn of phrase from the Littlehampton letters – is an inept attempt at swearing. Historian Christopher Hilliard, who wrote <a href="https://www.google.co.uk/books/edition/The_Littlehampton_Libels/IjwkDwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&printsec=frontcover&bsq=foxy%20ass%20piss%20country%20whore">a book on the letters</a>, agrees. “Just what is a ‘foxy ass piss country whore’?” he asks, before complaining that multiple dictionaries have failed to enlighten him. </p>
<p>But what’s the difference between competent and incompetent swearing, and who makes the rules anyway? As children, we’re not taught by our parents or teachers how to swear. Nor is swearing a skill that tends to be taught to foreign language learners – an oversight that the linguist Geraldine Horan <a href="https://discovery.ucl.ac.uk/id/eprint/1403857/1/10.1080-14708477.2013.804533.pdf">has argued should be corrected</a>. </p>
<p>Sometimes, as in the case of “foxy ass piss country whore”, we view an unusual sweary expression as evidence that the speaker doesn’t know how to swear properly. But in other cases the same thing points to the speaker being an impressively creative and imaginative swearer. Think of the <a href="https://www.scotsman.com/arts-and-culture/film-and-tv/20-of-the-thick-of-its-malcolm-tuckers-most-cutting-insults-595074">original expressions uttered by Malcolm Tucker</a>, the notoriously sweary character in the British political satire show, The Thick of It. What makes the difference here? Very little, I suspect. </p>
<p>Whether we view someone as an incompetent swearer or an especially clever swearer probably depends largely on whether they strike us as the sort of person who is good at swearing. Well brought-up women in 1920 did not strike anyone as the sort of people to be good at swearing. This is what made the Littlehampton letters so shocking to the nation in 1920, and Wicked Little Letters such a fun watch today.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/536131/original/file-20230706-17-460x2d.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/536131/original/file-20230706-17-460x2d.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/536131/original/file-20230706-17-460x2d.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/536131/original/file-20230706-17-460x2d.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/536131/original/file-20230706-17-460x2d.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/536131/original/file-20230706-17-460x2d.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/536131/original/file-20230706-17-460x2d.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rebecca Roache does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The film is part soap opera about neighbourly conflict, part cosy teatime detective story. And it’s also a showcase for some delightful swearing – my area of expertise.
Rebecca Roache, Senior Lecturer in Philosophy, Royal Holloway University of London
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/192473
2022-12-06T08:50:28Z
2022-12-06T08:50:28Z
Swear words: we studied speakers of languages from Hindi to Hungarian to find out why obscenities sound the way they do
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491910/original/file-20221026-17-cubwfz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C2929%2C1954&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/annoyed-woman-holding-speech-bubble-shouting-346272818">SpeedKingz/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><blockquote>
<p>“Skalk,” I cursed in Kelvak. It’s my favourite language to curse in – there is nothing as satisfying as the harsh consonants and default imperatives of the primary Kelvaki language.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This quote is by the main character in the sci-fi novel <a href="https://www.flametreepublishing.com/the-widening-gyre-isbn-9781787581487.html">The Widening Gyre</a> by Michael R. Johnston. Writers like Johnston who invent alien profanity rely on their intuitions about what sounds offensive here on Earth.</p>
<p>We wanted to explore whether there are universal sound patterns in profanity. So we <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.3758/s13423-022-02202-0">designed a series of studies</a> involving speakers of different languages and found surprising patterns in how swear words sound across the world.</p>
<p>The idea that the sounds in such words contribute to their offensiveness violates a linguistic principle: that the relationship between the sound of a word and its meaning is arbitrary. </p>
<p>Some language experts believe this <a href="https://web.stanford.edu/class/linguist197a/hockett60sciam.pdf">principle is a defining feature</a> of language. For example, it is hard to discern anything windowlike about the sounds in “window”. The word has completely different sounds in other languages, from fenêtre in French, to شباك (“shubak”) in Arabic, and חלון (“chalon”) in Hebrew.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, there are cases, such as onomatopoeia, where words do sound like what they mean (think of the “buzz” of a bee). Likewise, people associate <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1929-04177-001">the sound i</a> with small size. And the word for nose is more likely to <a href="https://www.pnas.org/doi/abs/10.1073/pnas.1605782113">contain the nasal sound n in different languages</a> than would be expected by chance.</p>
<p>Some researchers argue swear words have <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.3758/s13423-019-01685-8">sounds that contribute to their offensiveness</a>. Philosopher <a href="https://rebeccaroache.weebly.com/">Rebecca Roache</a> suggests that “the ‘quick and harsh’ sound of swear words … plausibly <a href="https://aeon.co/essays/where-does-swearing-get-its-power-and-how-should-we-use-it">adds drama to the gleeful thrill of taboo-breaking</a>”.</p>
<p>The most popular theory is that plosives (consonant sounds made by completely blocking the flow of air as it leaves the body, such as p, t and k) allow an emphatic expression of anger or frustration. US-based cognitive scientist <a href="https://pages.ucsd.edu/%7Ebkbergen/">Benjamin Bergen</a> argued that ending a swear word with one of these sounds is useful as they “are precisely the type of word <a href="https://www.basicbooks.com/titles/benjamin-k-bergen/what-the-f/9780465096480/">you might want to cut short</a> and mumble into your beard.” </p>
<p>A 2010 Canadian study <a href="https://dam-oclc.bac-lac.gc.ca/eng/a564f10d-9f5d-48b6-8979-d14274fb7cdd">compared sounds</a> in English swear words with those in carols and lullabies. It found swear words had a higher proportion of plosive sounds and fewer sonorant sounds (speech sounds with a nasal, gliding quality) such as l and w.</p>
<p>But this could be an oddity of English. Occasionally you can find a concordance between a sound and a meaning in one language but not others. For example, more than <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/4489664">a third of English words</a> beginning with “gl” relate to vision or light, such as “glisten” and “glow”, however, this association emerged randomly and is specific to English.</p>
<h2>What we learned</h2>
<p>In our first study, we investigated whether some sounds in the swear words of distantly related languages appear more or less frequently than you’d expect. </p>
<p>We recruited fluent speakers of languages from several different language families: Hebrew, Hindi, Hungarian, Korean and Russian, and asked them to give us a list of the worst swear words in their language (some participants reported really enjoying this). Then we compared the sounds in these swear words to those in control words. </p>
<p>We did not find any evidence that plosives were particularly common in swear words. This suggests that any abundance of plosives in swear words might be restricted to English and related languages. But we did discover that a group of sounds called “approximants” (which are created with slight obstruction to the airflow, such as l, r, w, and y) rarely featured in swear words across our set of languages.</p>
<p>Then we conducted a “sweardar” experiment. We created pairs of “foreign” pseudo-words that differed in just one sound (such as yemik and chemik). One member of each pair contained an approximant and the other a control sound, for example, ch. We played them to 215 speakers of a variety of languages (Arabic, Chinese, Finnish, French, German, and Spanish). Their task was to guess which of the two pseudo-words was a swear word.</p>
<p>We reasoned that if approximants are less suitable for swearing, people would be less likely to think the pseudo-words with an approximant were swear words than the matched control words. And that is what our results showed. People consistently judged the foreign words without the approximant to be the swear words.</p>
<p>This made us wonder whether you can make a swear word less offensive by weaving approximants into it. To investigate this hypothesis, we returned to English to look at <a href="https://theconversation.com/zounds-what-the-fork-are-minced-oaths-and-why-are-we-still-fecking-using-them-today-141423">“minced oaths”</a>. Minced oaths are sanitised versions of swear words formed by altering one or more sounds. For example, changing “damn” to “darn”. </p>
<p>We tested whether the minced forms of English swear words have more approximants. Our results showed that they did, more than twice as many. So, part of the reason “frigging” seems more appropriate for use in polite company than “fucking” may be because it contains an approximant sound, r. </p>
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<img alt="Swear jar to prevent swearing, filled with money" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491904/original/file-20221026-17-jtrtyo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491904/original/file-20221026-17-jtrtyo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491904/original/file-20221026-17-jtrtyo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491904/original/file-20221026-17-jtrtyo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491904/original/file-20221026-17-jtrtyo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491904/original/file-20221026-17-jtrtyo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491904/original/file-20221026-17-jtrtyo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Some offices fine staff for using coarse language.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/swear-jar-prevent-swearing-filled-money-1086384662">Suzanne Tucker/Shutterstock</a></span>
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<h2>Strong language</h2>
<p>Cussing is regulated by law in many countries. Some words are deemed so offensive they are <a href="https://www.channel4.com/producers-handbook/ofcom-broadcasting-code/protecting-under-18s-and-harm-and-offence/offensive-language">restricted to late-night shows</a>. But swearing can be good for us.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-power-of-swearing-how-obscene-words-influence-your-mind-body-and-relationships-192104">The power of swearing: how obscene words influence your mind, body and relationships</a>
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<p>Swearing aloud <a href="https://www.hachette.co.uk/titles/richard-stephens/black-sheep-the-hidden-benefits-of-being-bad/9781473610828/">increases pain tolerance</a> and boosts physical performance.</p>
<p>Part of what gives swear words their potency is the taboo subjects they refer to.
The usual suspects include excretion and sex. However, our research suggests the sounds in swear words may also play an important role. Our results indicate swear words do have universal sound patterns - on our planet at least. </p>
<p>As to the wider universe, the jury is out. According to <a href="https://gizmodo.com/how-american-delicacy-turned-belgium-into-a-dirty-word-5931788">The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy</a>, the rudest word in the universe is “Belgium”, which contains an approximant.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/192473/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ryan McKay receives funding from the NOMIS Foundation.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Shiri Lev-Ari does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
It’s not just you – there’s a reason swearing is so satisfying.
Ryan McKay, Professor of Psychology, Royal Holloway University of London
Shiri Lev-Ari, Lecturer in Psychology, Royal Holloway University of London
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/191656
2022-10-06T17:26:10Z
2022-10-06T17:26:10Z
Politicians dropping the F-bomb: There’s more to it than you might think
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487459/original/file-20220930-1555-m9k4id.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=54%2C174%2C3258%2C1524&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">When politicians swear we might think they’re simply overcome with emotion. But there’s often more going on behind the language they use. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><iframe style="width: 100%; height: 100px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" allowtransparency="" allow="clipboard-read; clipboard-write" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/politicians-dropping-the-f-bomb--there-s-more-to-it-than-you-might-think" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>In August 2022, while dealing with QAnon conspiracy theorists who had descended on her city, mayor Diane Therrien of Peterborough, Ont. <a href="https://www.sudbury.com/beyond-local/fk-off-you-fkwads-peterborough-mayor-says-to-qanon-followers-who-tried-to-arrest-police-5706603">responded in a less than diplomatic way</a>. She tweeted at them to “fuck off, you fuckwads.” </p>
<p>Nearly overnight, Therrien became the best-known mayor anywhere in the country. Her tweet went viral and was widely commented on in national news, and even made headlines in <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/aug/23/queen-of-canada-qanon-rise-conspiracy-alarm">international papers</a>. The discussion, of course, focused entirely on her choice to use a swear word, not once, but twice.</p>
<p>Most reactions seemed positive to her choice of words. She was praised for “<a href="https://www.thestar.com/entertainment/opinion/2022/08/19/mayor-diane-therriens-f-word-tweet-makes-her-the-profane-princess-of-peterborough.html">telling it like it is</a>” and for “<a href="https://globalnews.ca/video/9067433/mayor-of-peterborough-has-strong-words-for-weekend-protesters">saying what we are all thinking</a>.” At the same time, much of the commentary made certain assumptions about her emotional state — most notably, that she was tweeting <a href="https://www.thepeterboroughexaminer.com/opinion/editorials/2022/08/26/kevin-elson-mayors-foul-language-tweet-was-fuelled-by-frustration.html">out of frustration</a>.</p>
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<h2>Swearing in politics</h2>
<p>This framing is not surprising. The idea that swearing functions as an emotional release valve has become well-known in the past decade: <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1097/WNR.0b013e32832e64b1">a 2009 study</a> which is often <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/07/27/smarter-living/the-case-for-cursing.html">cited in the popular press</a>, emphasizes the cathartic effect of swearing. </p>
<p>In addition, Anglo-Canadian society expects politicians to take on public personas that preclude using vulgar or “unparliamentary” language. Swearing is normalized for blue collar work sectors, or in environments like sports teams and bars — places where you can let go of rigid behaviour rules. But when politicians swear, they are often seen as overcome by emotion and in breach of expected norms. What else could explain such a social gaffe, such inappropriate-to-context speech?</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-british-politicians-keep-swearing-on-the-campaign-trail-78124">Why British politicians keep swearing on the campaign trail</a>
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</em>
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<p>As linguistic anthropologists, we examine language in its social contexts and consider the cultural meanings of how it’s used. We wonder what this narrative of emotional release might be obscuring about the social impacts of taboo words.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man in a grey suit and pink tie speaking while pointing his finger." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487457/original/file-20220930-21378-mvicnb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Romeo Saganash rises during question period in the House of Commons. Saganash served as the NDP MP for Abitibi—Baie-James—Nunavik—Eeyou from 2011 to 2019.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Adrian Wyld</span></span>
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<p>Consider another notable example. In 2018, Romeo Saganash, an Indigenous NDP MP, said in parliament that <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/romeo-saganash-f-bomb-house-commons-1.4838124">Prime Minster Justin Trudeau “doesn’t give a fuck” about Indigenous rights</a>. Saganash quickly apologized (though he has continued to stand by the sentiment) after the Speaker of the House noted that this was very clearly “unparliamentary language.” </p>
<p>In a <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/unreserved/standing-up-and-speaking-out-meet-indigenous-people-motivated-to-take-action-1.4857364/why-fed-up-mp-romeo-saganash-dropped-the-f-bomb-in-the-house-of-commons-1.4858438">CBC interview</a>, he described feeling “exasperat[ed]” and “fed up.” Yet, in the same interview, he revealed that he had, in fact, planned to make this statement in the House of Commons. As he put it, “I showed my question to them [his seatmates] just to apologize in advance to them — to them at least — but no one else knew.” In other words, his statement was planned in advance: a purposeful social intervention.</p>
<h2>The power and purpose of performative language</h2>
<p>Saganash, like Therrien, was not swearing willy-nilly, nor was he the victim of an uncontrollable outburst of emotion. Their transgressions were not accidental. To understand the force of these utterances, it is helpful to consider them performative speech occurring in response to the language and actions of others.</p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/OBO/9780199766567-0114">Performative speech</a> refers to the way certain forms of speaking constitute meaningful social action. The easiest way to understand these is through what <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/austin-jl/">language scholar J.L. Austin</a> called “explicit primary performatives.” </p>
<p>For example, an officiant “pronounces” two people to be married, and therefore they are. A new president takes an oath to assume the full power of the office. These strong performatives require certain contextual conditions in order to be effective: a random person saying the oath of office doesn’t automatically become the president. </p>
<p>Taboo language falls into the category of performatives, but their power rests on the sense that they cannot be said. The proscription on using certain kinds of words defines the moral and political meaning of different spaces and relationships. As we avoid taboos, we collectively set boundaries on how we understand a wide range of social phenomena.</p>
<p>In other words, by agreeing that the word “fuck” is prohibited or restricted, we create conditions in which saying it accomplishes something powerful. When politicians swear, the performativity of “fuck” is heightened; it becomes all the more transgressive.</p>
<h2>Language as a response to actions</h2>
<p>By saying that emotion is the underlying reason Saganash and Therrien uttered a taboo word, the general conversation misses the mark. It fails to realize that uttering a taboo word — violating the norm — is precisely what is being accomplished. </p>
<p>Furthermore, while framing taboo as emotional reaction situates both instances of swearing as reactive, they might better be understood as responses.</p>
<p>Saganash’s now viral comment was made <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/unreserved/standing-up-and-speaking-out-meet-indigenous-people-motivated-to-take-action-1.4857364/why-fed-up-mp-romeo-saganash-dropped-the-f-bomb-in-the-house-of-commons-1.4858438">in response to the government’s position on the Trans Mountain pipeline</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>…Canada will not be able to accommodate all Indigenous concerns. What that means is that they have decided to willfully violate their constitutional duties and obligations…Why doesn’t the Prime Minister just say the truth and tell the Indigenous Peoples that he doesn’t give a fuck about their rights? </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Notice the mirroring effect: Saganash’s violation of parliamentary language occurs in response to a violation of Indigenous rights.</p>
<p>In parallel fashion, when asked about QAnon conspiracy theorists, <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/as-it-happens-wednesday-edition-1.6553693/peterborough-mayor-defends-her-use-of-the-f-word-in-response-to-weekend-protest-1.6553815">Therrien commented</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>They treat communities and people with disrespect constantly. And yet they get outraged when we respond with that kind of disrespect.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Note that she frames her swearing as deliberately mirroring the “disrespect” of the protesters, not as an expression of her feelings.</p>
<p>In both cases, they are responding in kind to other transgressions. These speakers recognize the actors they are responding to with their taboo violations as the ones who initiated the transgression of social norms: building a pipeline through Indigenous territory, or by enacting citizens’ arrests over public health protections. </p>
<p>Next time a politician surprises us with a carefully placed f-bomb, remember that while they may be frustrated, there could be more to the story. When we focus on their emotional state, we lose sight of what they are trying to accomplish with their performative speech.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/191656/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Politicians dropping the f-bomb tend to be seen as acting out of emotion, but the way we use taboo language is often about what we can accomplish by violating rules.
Sarah Shulist, Associate Professor of Languages, Literatures, and Cultures, Queen's University, Ontario
Hannah McElgunn, Assistant Professor, Department of Languages, Literatures, and Cultures, Queen's University, Ontario
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/127512
2020-01-01T21:03:26Z
2020-01-01T21:03:26Z
Swearing in public is still illegal, but you probably won’t be charged if you’re white
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/306047/original/file-20191210-95130-fw3tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=166%2C22%2C2829%2C1971&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">When delivered to an unsuspecting group, especially where children are present, swearing can amount to a criminal offence.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This article contains explicit language.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>Is it ever OK to swear? Yes. Swearing can be quite acceptable when delivered to drive home a particular point to a specific audience, enhance a comedic presentation, or deal with pain. </p>
<p>I am sure, in that last context, that midwives and partners have heard it all, many times over. And no-one would begrudge the delivering mother that opportunity. But in my experience, the use of profanity is usually gratuitous, repeatedly designed to offend and, to my mind, frequently just a sign of laziness in speech.</p>
<p>In fact, when delivered to an unsuspecting group, especially where children are present, it can amount to a criminal offence.</p>
<p>So what does the law say about letting fly with a few well-chosen expletives?</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Kevin Rudd was applauded after saying “political shit storm” on TV.</span></figcaption>
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<h2>Don’t say f*ck in front of children</h2>
<p>Public profanity is an offence in every jurisdiction in Australia. The South Australian <a href="http://www5.austlii.edu.au/au/legis/sa/consol_act/soa1953189/s22.html">Summary Offences Act</a> is one good example of this type of prohibition:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>A person who uses indecent or profane language or sings any indecent or profane song or ballad in a public place; or in a police station; or which is audible from a public place; or which is audible in neighbouring or adjoining occupied premises; or with intent to offend or insult any person is guilty of an offence. Maximum penalty $250.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>But <a href="https://theconversation.com/avoid-a-bum-steer-this-summer-heres-what-australian-law-says-about-public-nudity-107525">context</a> is everything. Saying “fuck” in front of families at the local sports ground would likely lead to a fine if someone complained to the local police. But the same words used by a comedian at a performance for paying patrons later that night <a href="http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/journals/UNSWLJ/2013/20.html">will incur no such sanctioning</a>.</p>
<p>Anyone who has regularly attended live theatre in the past decade, or who watches late night television or listens to late night radio, would know that, over the years, the use of profane language has become widespread. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-c-word-may-be-the-last-swearing-taboo-but-doesnt-shock-like-it-used-to-54813">The 'c-word' may be the last swearing taboo, but doesn't shock like it used to</a>
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</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Indeed, language is forever evolving. Words that used to be uttered sparingly are now deployed in media conversations as a matter of course. They’re subject to “language warnings” informed by the various radio and television codes of conduct, with television codes being <a href="https://www.acma.gov.au/standards-tv-and-radio-broadcasters">particularly cognisant</a> of the likelihood of children viewers.</p>
<h2>Norm and Ahmed</h2>
<p>Any modern history of the law of profanity in Australia must begin with the story of Alex Buzo’s 1968 play, “<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-great-australian-plays-the-front-room-boys-and-new-wave-theatre-72956">Norm and Ahmed</a>”, which was destined to be seen only by adult audiences. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/foul-mouthed-minions-some-myths-about-children-and-swearing-44916">Foul-mouthed Minions? Some myths about children and swearing</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<p>In the play, Buzo presents racial prejudice as profoundly irrational in the behaviour of ordinary Australians. The play script originally ended with the line “fuckin’ boong”. For its debut production in 1968, “fuckin’” became “bloody”. But the following year in Brisbane, Buzo’s original line was used. </p>
<p>After one performance, Norman Staines, the actor who said the line, was arrested. But it was not the use of the dreadful racial slur that had attracted the attention of the two police who mounted the stage, but rather the use of the word “fuckin’”.</p>
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<p>The magistrate’s conviction of Staines was later overturned by the Supreme Court of Queensland on the grounds the word <a href="http://ro.uow.edu.au/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1265&context=ltc">was not obscene</a> in the context of the play. The High Court later <a href="http://eresources.hcourt.gov.au/historical/showbyHandle/1/16677">agreed</a>.</p>
<p>There is little doubt the judgements of these courts set a precedent. Swearing was now acceptable if employed in the context of adult entertainment. </p>
<h2>Racist arrests</h2>
<p>There are some interesting socio-legal writings on this subject, too. Criminologist Paul Wilson discovered in the New South Wales outback town of Moree in the late 1970s that the police were using the word “fuck” liberally in their banter with each other, while <a href="https://www.anu.edu.au/fellows/jbraithwaite/_documents/Articles/1978_Pervs,%20Pimps%20and%20Power-Brokers.pdf">regularly arresting</a> Aboriginal men in the street for using the same word on the basis it was “offensive”. </p>
<p>Wilson concluded from his research experience that rule-makers are often the most flagrant rule-breakers.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/we-need-evidence-based-law-reform-to-reduce-rates-of-indigenous-incarceration-94228">We need evidence-based law reform to reduce rates of Indigenous incarceration</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>What’s more, practising criminal lawyers know police regularly use the offensive language law to give them the widest possible range of excuses to arrest someone giving them grief. </p>
<p>It’s difficult to say how many people today around Australia are charged with using offensive, profane or insulting language in any one year, but you could safely surmise it’s in the thousands. </p>
<p>What we can say from <a href="https://www.bocsar.nsw.gov.au/Documents/RCS-Annual/Report-Recorded-Crime-Statistics-2015-rcs2015.pdf">evidence</a> in NSW is that Indigenous people, who comprise 3% of the population, make up <a href="https://independentaustralia.net/life/life-display/australia-where-offensive-and-insulting-language-is-actually-a-crime,10319">approximately one-third</a> of those charged and taken to court on account of their use of language deemed by police to be offensive. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/factcheck-are-first-australians-the-most-imprisoned-people-on-earth-78528">FactCheck: are first Australians the most imprisoned people on Earth?</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<p>More recently, in 2015, a political activist <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-08-07/activist-allegedly-offensive-sign-compared-to-fcuk-danny-lim/11391878">wore a sandwich board sign</a> that linked former Prime Minister Tony Abbott with the “c” word. The activist was arrested and charged with offensive conduct. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1202701126778286085"}"></div></p>
<p>The matter then wound its way through the courts. Two years later, magistrate Jacqueline Milledge concluded the law was concerned with what would offend the “hypothetical reasonable person”, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2019/aug/30/cheeky-but-not-offensive-serial-sydney-protester-danny-lim-wins-appeal-over-sign">saying</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It’s not someone who is thin-skinned, who is easily offended […] It’s someone who can ride out some of the crudities of life. [The sign is] provocative and cheeky but it is not offensive.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>So where does all of this leave us? Can we use profanities? Yes, of course, but one should choose one’s audience carefully, lest the long arm of the law take an interest in our public utterances.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/127512/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rick Sarre receives funding from The Criminology Research Council. He is on the Labor Party (SA) State Council. </span></em></p>
Here’s when the law says it’s okay to let rude words fly.
Rick Sarre, Professor of Law and Criminal Justice, University of South Australia
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/97925
2018-07-10T04:36:54Z
2018-07-10T04:36:54Z
Should white Australian fans rap along to the n-word at a Kendrick Lamar concert?
<p>US rapper Kendrick Lamar’s <a href="https://www.livenation.com.au/artist/kendrick-lamar-tickets">Australian tour</a> kicks off this week, culminating in a headline appearance at the music festival <a href="https://www.splendourinthegrass.com/">Splendour in the Grass</a>. </p>
<p>Lamar’s most recent album, DAMN., not only topped the charts in the US, Australia, and around the world, but was also the first rap album to be awarded the prestigious <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-kendrick-lamars-pulitzer-win-blurs-lines-between-classical-music-and-pop-95213">Pulitzer Prize for Music</a>. Lamar’s historic victory provides hip hop with a level of critical recognition that has long escaped it, even as its popularity has spread from black and Latino neighbourhoods to white America and beyond. </p>
<p>However being a hip hop fan in Australia is not straightforward. For many, rap’s narratives of urban American hustle feel worlds removed from life here. These issues come to fore around the question of whether white fans in Australia should rap along to the “n-word”. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">The song DNA. from Kendrick Lamar’s Pulitzer Prize-winning album DAMN.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In May this year, at the Hangout Music Festival in Alabama, <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-05-23/rapper-kendrick-lamar-asks-white-fan-not-to-sing-n-word/9789938">Lamar invited a white fan on stage</a> to rap over his song M.A.A.D city. The young woman began to rap with the confidence of a true fan, delighted to be sharing space with him. “Man down, where you from, n—a Fuck who you know, where you from, my n—a?” she rapped, until Lamar abruptly cut the music. </p>
<p>“Woah, you gotta bleep one single word, though” he cautioned. “Did I not –” she asked, clearly embarrassed by her mistake. “You didn’t,” Lamar replied. The woman tried to continue but faltered and was ushered off stage to a smattering of uneasy applause.</p>
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<p>The n-word can be found throughout Lamar’s music, including his hits HUMBLE., which <a href="http://musicfeeds.com.au/news/kendrick-lamar-wins-triple-js-hottest-100-2017/">topped Triple J’s Hottest 100 poll</a> in 2018, and Alright, from his previous album To Pimp a Butterfly. After the incident in Alabama, <a href="https://variety.com/2018/music/opinion/kendrick-lamar-rappers-should-stop-using-n-word-1202818977/">some people asked</a>, if the word is so bad, why should anyone be using it? But in spite of hip hop’s ubiquity in mainstream culture, and the existence of local versions in Australia (such as in Indigenous and white working class cultures), hip hop remains specific to black America - and the n-word is one of its vital gatekeepers. </p>
<p>Most hip hop fans understand that when a black American rapper says “n—a”, they are reclaiming the word from its <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/cultureshock/teachers/huck/section1_2.html">original, derogatory use</a> to degrade and humiliate enslaved Africans in antebellum America. Just as some feminist movements have reclaimed words like “slut,” and LGBT communities have reclaimed the homophobic slur “queer,” “n—a” has become part of the exclusive lexicon of modern day black America. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-kendrick-lamars-pulitzer-win-blurs-lines-between-classical-music-and-pop-95213">How Kendrick Lamar's Pulitzer win blurs lines between classical music and pop</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The n-word is one crucial means through which hip hop reminds white listeners of the chasm of culture and experience between them and black America. Whether white American listeners are compelled – like the stereotypical white suburban youth devouring gangsta rap – or repelled by this, they cannot ignore it. </p>
<p>White people have a role in hip hop, but it is overwhelmingly a passive one – to listen, to take criticism, to be, at times, the butt of a joke or the target of aggression. And, most importantly, to learn. The presence of white people in hip hop, in particular their avid listenership, is part of what lends the n-word its ongoing subversive power in this space.</p>
<p>Indeed the self-deprecating white rapper Lil Dicky addresses this issue head on in his song Freaky Friday. Taking the film <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0322330/">Freaky Friday</a>’s classic “body swap” trope, Dicky has R&B star Chris Brown sing as if he were Lil Dicky, finally allowed to engage in hip hop culture on a level unreachable to the white hip-hopper. Brown, acting as Dicky, asks, “Wait, can I really say the n-word? What up, my n—a?”</p>
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<p>The premise of the joke is that white hip-hoppers secretly, perhaps even subconsciously, yearn to use the n-word – although not for the racist reasons that some might fear. White hip hop artists and fans want to sing along to their favourite song without stopping short, breaking character, remembering with a sobering pause that they are part of a world that privileges whiteness. They want hip hop to know how down they really are, the same way that punk or emo fans are able to don the image and lifestyle of their subculture.</p>
<p>But the rules are different for white fans of hip hop. In this way, perhaps, the music can make white people feel, if only momentarily, the way black Americans are made to feel with quotidian regularity. “There’s been so many things a Caucasian person said I couldn’t do,” Lamar said in defence of <a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2018/06/kendrick-lamar-cover-story">his stance on the n-word</a>. “So if I say this is my word … please let me have this word.”</p>
<p>As Solange, another recent visitor to Sydney, spells out in her song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Njp2vaBzgto">F.U.B.U.</a> – a song that explicitly reminds black audiences that her music is “for us, by us” – “don’t be sad if you can’t sing along/Just be glad you got the whole wide world.” </p>
<p>Australian white fans of Lamar should bear this in mind as we welcome him back to our shores - and stay silent when the n-word appears.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Kendrick Lamar’s tour starts in Perth tonight.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/97925/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tara Colley does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The n-word is a means through which hip hop reminds white listeners of the chasm of culture and experience between them and black America.
Tara Colley, Casual lecturer, United States Studies Centre, University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/92937
2018-03-15T11:24:40Z
2018-03-15T11:24:40Z
English swearing’s European origins
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210372/original/file-20180314-113485-wjouex.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://scienceoxford.com/z-science-swearing-author-emma-bryne/">Science Oxford</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>When learning a new language, what’s the first thing most of us do? If you are like me, you flick through the dictionary to find all the naughty words. And a quick glance on <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_2_6?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=foreign+swear+words&sprefix=foreig%2Cstripbooks%2C157&crid=2WCG4B7Q9LM0U&rh=n%3A266239%2Ck%3Aforeign+swear+words">Amazon</a> will reveal a veritable library dedicated to the rigorous pursuit of insulting around the world. We seem to be just a little obsessed – and why the hell not?</p>
<p>But we actually don’t need to reach for the nearest Collins dictionary to pick up some polyglot profanities. Many English swear words have come from different languages over the centuries. For example, the classics – “fuck”, “shit” and “cunt” – are words the language shares <a href="https://www.newstatesman.com/culture/2014/02/swearing-fascinating-history-our-favourite-four-letter-words">with older Germanic and Scandinavian languages</a>. Fuck is likely to be cognate with the Dutch “fokken”, which in the 15th century meant “to mock” – and may also be related to Middle High German “ficken”, meaning “to rub"’. Both words began to be related to sexual intercourse in the 16th century. </p>
<p>The earliest mention we have in English for fuck (in the sense of copulation) is in a Latin-English sermon from 1500. That’s right, a <em>sermon</em> (<a href="https://archive.org/details/reliquiaeantiqua01wriguoft">find it here on page 91</a>). What is particularly fascinating here is the encryption – with each letter representing the one before it in the alphabet, suggesting some level of aversion to the word:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Non sunt in cœli, quia gxddbov xxkxzt pg ifmk.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Decrypting the last four rather incriminating words gives us: "fvccant vvjvys of heli” – which, when translated means: “They [monks] are not in heaven because they fuck the wives of Ely.”. To decipher the code, we have to bear in mind the differences in both the alphabet and spelling between then and now: the letter “w” did not exist, instead, one could use “vv” to represent this sound. You could also use “j” in the place of “i”, and “v” in the place of “u”.</p>
<p>Fuck also appears in Middle English names and place names, often meaning “to strike”. Hence Henry Fuckebegger (on the record in 1286) most likely beat the poor, rather than shagging them. Shit and cunt, which both have cognates in earlier Germanic and Scandinavian languages, have also been used in placenames from the Middle Ages. Skidbrooke in Lincolnshire, for example, appears in the Domesday book as “<a href="http://discovery.nationalarchives.gov.uk/details/r/D7315481">Schitebroc</a>” – that is: “Shit-brook”. In fact, if you ever walk down a Grape or Grove Lane, chances are it used to be one of the many “Gropecuntlanes”, denoting a <a href="https://wikivisually.com/wiki/Gropecunt_Lane">medieval red-light district</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210549/original/file-20180315-104639-1x3hdyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210549/original/file-20180315-104639-1x3hdyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210549/original/file-20180315-104639-1x3hdyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210549/original/file-20180315-104639-1x3hdyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210549/original/file-20180315-104639-1x3hdyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210549/original/file-20180315-104639-1x3hdyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210549/original/file-20180315-104639-1x3hdyw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Cleaned up its act: Grope Lane in Shrewsbury.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/05/GropeLane.jpg">Dpaajones via Wikimedia Commons</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Mind your language</h2>
<p>So we know that a lot of our favourite swears are loans from the Germanic and Scandinavian language families. Well, yes and no. The <em>words</em> may come from these origins, but where their <em>use</em> comes from is where it can get interesting. I’m about to make the case that one of the most quintessentially British swear words is, in fact, kind of French. The word I’m talking about is “bloody”, as in, every time Harry Potter’s Ron Weasley exclaims “Bloody hell, Harry!” </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/e-tnkxED6xQ?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>The origins of this one seem consistent with the rest of the swear words – it’s a Germanic word that appears in <a href="http://bosworth.ff.cuni.cz/004717">Old</a> and <a href="http://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/m/mec/med-idx?type=id&id=MED5276">Middle</a> English as an adjective meaning “bloodthirsty”, “cruel” and “murderous” alongside the more obvious “bloodstained” sense. But nowhere is it used as a swear word. One could make the case that the swear use comes from contact with Anglo Norman, which was a variety of French that came with the Normans in 1066. This is because it is in Anglo Norman that we find the French word “sanglant” (meaning “bloody”) being used as a swear word. </p>
<p>Sanglant appears twice in a 1396 version of a conversation manual called the <a href="http://www.anglo-norman.net/sources/?session=SNWK4158T1520861290">Manières de langage</a>, which was essentially the textbook for learning French at the turn of the 15th century. It appears in insults such as “senglant merdous garcion” (“bloody filthy rogue”), and “senglent filz de putaigne” (“bloody son of a whore”). Indeed, sanglant as a swear word seems to have enjoyed a particularly Anglo-Norman flavour. </p>
<h2>Pour épater les Anglais</h2>
<p>In the continental French farce <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=k4gHAQAAIAAJ&dq=pathelin&pg=PP5#v=onepage&q=pathelin&f=false">Pathelin</a> (1457), the eponymous character attempts to avoid repaying a debt by babbling in various French dialects in an attempt to appear mad. He utters the words “sanglant paillart” (“bloody bastard”) while speaking in the Norman dialect. Moreover, in the <a href="https://archive.org/details/chroniquedechar02char">Chronique de Charles VII</a>, the French call the “Angloiz et Normans” (Angles and Normans) by the insult “senglans puans mezeaulx porriz” (“bloody putrid rotting lepers”). Here, the French are ironically insulting the English in one of their own tongues, which was at that time a dialect of French. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210541/original/file-20180315-104645-mxsfxs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210541/original/file-20180315-104645-mxsfxs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210541/original/file-20180315-104645-mxsfxs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210541/original/file-20180315-104645-mxsfxs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210541/original/file-20180315-104645-mxsfxs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210541/original/file-20180315-104645-mxsfxs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210541/original/file-20180315-104645-mxsfxs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Not that kind of swearing, silly! Although the Norman Conquest give English people a whole new set of naughty words.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bayeux_Tapestry_scene23_Harold_oath_William.jpg#/media/File:Bayeux_Tapestry_scene23_Harold_sacramentum_fecit_Willelmo_duci.jpg">Myrabella</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>It is only after the appearance of “sanglant” that we then get “bloody” as a swear word – which means that it is very likely that this seemingly Germanic word has assumed a Francophone character. </p>
<p>Research into the English language reveals that the UK shares more with Europe than many realise. The language contact situation is particularly diverse for Britain, with heavy influence from Germanic/Scandinavian languages. As the evolution of the word “bloody” suggests, Anglo Norman also played a fundamental role in how English speakers use words. </p>
<p>But for Anglo Norman, the key message is that this was a variety of French that was viewed in the Middle Ages as a British language. Hence, English has evolved from a background of significant linguistic diversity that has formed part of the country’s identity for centuries. And the traces of that are sometimes hiding in plain sight.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/92937/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Emily Reed does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
But the British soon got the hang of profanity.
Emily Reed, Doctoral Researcher in Late-Medieval Linguistics and Literature, University of Sheffield
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/67743
2016-11-01T11:46:08Z
2016-11-01T11:46:08Z
We translated the Marquis de Sade’s most obscene work – here’s how
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/144014/original/image-20161101-15779-6ony51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Musée des lettres et manuscrits, Paris</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Warning: contains rude words. Excuse my French. And English.</em></p>
<p>The Marquis de Sade’s earliest work of fiction, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/oct/07/marquis-de-sade-120-days-of-sodom-published-classic">The 120 Days of Sodom</a>, is also his most extreme. It tells the story of four libertines – a duke, a bishop, a judge and a banker – who lock themselves away in a castle with an entourage that includes two harems of teenage boys and girls. Four ageing prostitutes, appointed as storytellers, each tell of 150 “passions” or perversions over the course of a month. The libertines enact the passions they hear described, and as these become more violent, the narrative builds to a murderous climax. Though Sade never finished his novel, and the last three parts are in note form only, it remains a uniquely disturbing work.</p>
<p>And therefore uniquely challenging to translate. Perhaps this was the reason no one had attempted a new translation since the one first published by <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=1nI1Y7ivYkgC&">Austryn Wainhouse</a> in 1954 (and revised with Richard Seaver in 1966). In any case, Thomas Wynn and I felt a new version was long overdue, and, much to our surprise, Penguin Classics agreed. </p>
<p>Dealing with the violence was not the only challenge we faced: The 120 Days is also Sade’s most obscene work of fiction. Over the course of three years, this indeed was the issue that prompted the most discussion and debate between us. How exactly were we to translate the various rude words of the original French? Was a <em>vit</em> a prick, dick or a cock? Were <em>tétons</em> boobs, tits or breasts? Was a <em>derrière</em> a behind, a backside or, indeed, a <em>derrière</em>? Was a <em>cul</em> a bum or an arse? While <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=1nI1Y7ivYkgC&">Wainhouse</a> adopted an eccentric idiom that could be best described as mock-Tudor, we decided to try as far as possible to use sexual slang that was still in use today – as long as it did not sound gratingly contemporary. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/144011/original/image-20161101-24460-firzk3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/144011/original/image-20161101-24460-firzk3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=590&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/144011/original/image-20161101-24460-firzk3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=590&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/144011/original/image-20161101-24460-firzk3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=590&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/144011/original/image-20161101-24460-firzk3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/144011/original/image-20161101-24460-firzk3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/144011/original/image-20161101-24460-firzk3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Portrait of the Marquis de Sade, 1760.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Translating obscenity into your own language takes some getting used to. However familiar one becomes with another language, a trace of otherness always remains. Sometimes this can add to the beauty of the language, or to its mystique, but when it comes to obscenity there is a distinct softening effect. Rude words in other languages never have quite the same force, so translating them into one’s own language brings the obscenity home in more ways than one.</p>
<p>English reserve probably plays a part in the process, too. When we started translating 120 Days I soon realised I was instinctively toning the original down, avoiding words that I found jarringly ugly. I may not have overcome that entirely (no dicks or cocks for me, thank you very much!) but I realised pretty quickly that a watered-down version of Sade’s novel would be the worst possible outcome. The last thing we wanted to produce was a text that was any less shocking – and therefore potentially appealing – than the original. We had a duty to be just as rude, crude, and revolting as Sade.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143667/original/image-20161028-15783-u45qte.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The original 120 Days scroll.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Musée des lettres et manuscrits, Paris</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>To ensure consistency we compiled our own Sadean lexicon as we were translating. Once we had debated the various possible translations of a particular word we would try to settle on one and stick to it. Usually. So a <em>vit</em> would always be a prick, and a <em>cul</em> would always be an arse. </p>
<p>But this wasn’t always possible. When it came to translating <em>tétons</em>, for example, one word was not enough. One of our most treasured resources as translators was the University of Chicago’s <a href="http://artfl-project.uchicago.edu/node/17">database</a> of old French dictionaries, which includes several from the 17th and 18th centuries. </p>
<p>One of the things this showed was that <em>téton</em> was not always quite as familiar or coarse as the English “tit” (Molière and Voltaire both used it), so we had to be attentive to these different inflections. In cases like these, it matters whether the word is written by the narrator or spoken by one of the characters, whether it is said by a man or a woman, neutrally or insultingly, and so on – a man or woman writing “breasts” is very different to a man saying “tits” and very different to a woman saying “boobs”.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/143668/original/image-20161028-15775-70dli7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/143668/original/image-20161028-15775-70dli7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=923&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143668/original/image-20161028-15775-70dli7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=923&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143668/original/image-20161028-15775-70dli7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=923&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143668/original/image-20161028-15775-70dli7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1160&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143668/original/image-20161028-15775-70dli7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1160&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/143668/original/image-20161028-15775-70dli7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1160&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The term that gave us the most trouble by far was the verb <em>se branler</em> – a slang term meaning to masturbate that is still commonly used by French speakers today. There may be no shortage of English equivalents, but nor is there any shortage of Englishes to consider – and therein lies the problem. The most obvious English equivalent – “to wank” – would be unfamiliar and odd on one side of the Atlantic, while “to jerk off” would be familiar but decidedly American in its associations to English readers. We contemplated “to pleasure oneself” but it seemed a little sex-positive and a little too polite, while “fapping” had yet to hit the public (or our) consciousness. </p>
<p>Ultimately, we decided on “to frig” even though we were aware that this use of the word would be unfamiliar to many readers – particularly those too young to remember the Sex Pistols’ version of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kV6R0I2oHKY">Friggin’ in the Riggin’</a> (1979). When we canvassed our students, most thought “frig” was a euphemism for “fuck”; and indeed most dictionaries now give “have sexual intercourse with” as the first definition, and “to masturbate” as the second. </p>
<p>But “to frig” works in a way that the alternatives do not – it is compact, and usable reflexively or non-reflexively, and transitively or intransitively. We think – or hope – its general unfamiliarity might work in its favour for many readers, as this will mean it won’t have strong associations of one particular form of English. In any case, as it occurs so frequently in our translation, we hope readers will soon get used to it and that its initial strangeness will soon be forgotten. </p>
<p>Who knows – perhaps the legacy of this translation will be a return of frigging?</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Sade’s <a href="https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/253956/the-120-days-of-sodom/">The 120 Days of Sodom</a>, translated by Will McMorran and Thomas Wynn, was published earlier this month as a Penguin Classic in the UK. It will be released in North America on December 27 2016.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/67743/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Will McMorran does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
When translating The 120 Days of Sodom, we had a duty to be just as rude, crude, and revolting as Sade.
Will McMorran, Senior Lecturer in French & Comparative Literature, Queen Mary University of London
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/64020
2016-08-18T12:09:25Z
2016-08-18T12:09:25Z
Titter ye not – Swallows and Amazons goes all Victorian
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/134624/original/image-20160818-12274-1rp9xn2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Studiocanal</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In the latest film adaptation of Arthur Ransome’s <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2016/jul/24/swallows-and-amazons-review-kelly-macdonald-rafe-spall-arthur-ransome">Swallows and Amazons</a>, the name of one of the lead characters has been changed from Titty to Tatty. </p>
<p>The descendants of the family that inspired Arthur Ransome’s stories are <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2016/05/23/family-of-swallows-and-amazons-titty--furious-as-bbc-film-change/">reportedly furious</a> with the BBC, but many commentators have noted that this is not the first expurgation of Titty. The character became Kitty in a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0200383/">1963 version</a>, though in other adaptions (on radio in 2012, and in an earlier 1974 film) remained as Titty.</p>
<p>As reviewer Ben Dowell <a href="http://www.radiotimes.com/news/2015-06-26/it-seems-titty-is-too-rude-for-the-new-swallows-and-amazons-film---but-roger-is-ok">points out</a>, the name of Roger, Titty’s younger brother, remains unchanged, and always has done. As Dowell comments, many of the “slightly filthy minds” which might snicker at Titty would inevitably smirk at the moniker of her brother.</p>
<p>But while young boys are brought into this world and named Roger, it’s hard to conceive that parents would blithely name their daughters Titty – and equally improbable that those young women, in later life, would consciously adopt that as their nickname.</p>
<p>So, the rationale for the BBC (though the BBC has, it seems, remained silent on this matter), might be understandable, albeit contentious from the point of view of textual integrity. Titty is now a “swear” word, a bad word, a profanity; where Roger might imply a particular set of associations, as a name it is still relatively untarnished. But everyone knows that Titty is rude.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ztIQkixuOmc?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<h2>Swearing blind</h2>
<p>Swear words generally emerge as a challenge to social taboos, to what is forbidden in society – and this can take many forms; sexual and religious taboos being the most notable. </p>
<p>Within religious society, swear words are associated with transgressions against faith: calling the Lord’s name in vain, for example, or use of the word “damn” or “hell”. This is a significant point. We often use the terms “swearing” and “profanity” as synonyms, though they are from different contexts (legal and religious). In the English language, “profane” is an antonym of “sacred”. So the terms emerged within the discourse of the Christian church in direct opposition. Swearing in this context was to be profane and therefore a challenger of faith.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/134626/original/image-20160818-12274-1ra7o11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/134626/original/image-20160818-12274-1ra7o11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=778&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/134626/original/image-20160818-12274-1ra7o11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=778&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/134626/original/image-20160818-12274-1ra7o11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=778&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/134626/original/image-20160818-12274-1ra7o11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=977&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/134626/original/image-20160818-12274-1ra7o11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=977&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/134626/original/image-20160818-12274-1ra7o11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=977&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Edwin Booth as Hamlet, 1870.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But one could swear without profaning, a form of bad language that associated with bodily functions, particularly with sex. In our contemporary society, such swearing is more recognisable. Titty itself, as a profanity, has emerged from such a branch of practice. Take Shakespeare’s Hamlet, for example: the young prince, sitting by the side of the beautiful Ophelia, asks if he may lie his “head upon her lap”, and follows up with the witticism: “Do you think I meant country matters?” The joke resides in association of a woman’s lap with the phonetic pronunciation of the first syllable of “count/ry”.</p>
<p>This type of implicit “swearing” that Shakespeare revelled in became even more popular in the witty wordplay of late 17th and early 18th-century theatre. Comic shows of this period made exceptionally efficient use of figurative language to imply sexuality and sexual acts. <a href="http://writersinspire.org/content/aphra-behn-restoration-theatre">Aphra Behn</a>’s 1677 stage comedy The Rover, for example, makes much use of the imagery of the “bush” and the “horn”, as well as featuring another pun on “countrymen”, whose skills were as “merchants of love”. Over the centuries, theatre has made much of that type of bawdy talk as a way of circumventing social rules and forbidden phrases.</p>
<h2>Country matters</h2>
<p>Of course, Swallows and Amazons is aimed at children, not Restoration audiences. The kind of cleansing that has led to the exchange of Titty for Tatty is very much in line with what the Victorians did, censoring for children and in the process, creating taboos. Following Shakespeare’s lead, the 19th-century playwright Dion Boucicault intended to title his first play “Country Matters”. But when it appeared on stage in 1842 it was as the much more acceptable “London Assurance”. </p>
<p>Such textual expurgation has come to be known as <a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/bowdlerism">bowdlerism</a>, named after Thomas Bowdler, whose first “edited” volumes were of Shakespeare’s plays. The series, which went through several editions after its original publication in 1807, was lengthily subtitled: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>In which nothing is added to the original text, but those words and expressions are omitted which cannot with propriety be read aloud in a Family.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>So, the sanctity of the family ear became crucial and children were thus protected, for the first time, from the evils of Shakespearean obscenities. Intriguingly, Bowdler also expurgated signs of sexual innuendo. The Bard’s “tipping rams” were removed alongside the “damns”. Under Bowdler’s censorial control, we might have lost Roger alongside his sister Titty.</p>
<p>Often, in our contemporary era, profanities are headline grabbers for the publicity hungry: remember <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/fashion/features/fcuk-the-logo-that-became-a-no-no-7704257.html">FCUK</a>? One needs only to roll call the BRITS of the past ten years to witness attention-seeking swearing. In 2008, the Arctic Monkeys launched a tirade that was expurgated from the show. And in St Kitts, where “cursing” in public is illegal, rap star 50 Cent was <a href="http://www.spin.com/2016/06/50-cent-arrested-motherfucker-profanity-st-kitts/">arrested</a> recently and fined for saying “motherfucker”.</p>
<p>Swearing will exist whilst there are social taboos to break. While children this summer may have been robbed of the chance to utter titty with impunity, their time will come.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>This article was amended on August 18 2016 to correct an error concerning Roger. He was not known as “the cabin boy” in Swallows and Amazons.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/64020/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Theresa Saxon does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The film’s exchange of Titty for Tatty is very much in line with Victorian censorship of profanities for children.
Theresa Saxon, Senior Lecturer in English Literature, University of Central Lancashire
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/56145
2016-03-21T19:27:46Z
2016-03-21T19:27:46Z
Dinky-di Aussies: how slanguage helped form a new national identity
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115726/original/image-20160321-4417-1pithr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A new exhibition gives us an insight into the daily life – and language – of Australian soldiers in World War One. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source"> Courtesy of University of Melbourne Archives, University of Melbourne.</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>They called it slanguage. A unique language developed by soldiers on the front during World War One. It was a creative fusion of Australian slang, blue words and bits of French and other foreign phrases. </p>
<p>Classic pieces of Australiana, such as “digger” and “dugout”, were coined in the trenches. Slanguage even gave us the term “Aussie” – a word originally seen by some as downmarket and lower-class. </p>
<p>This collection of new terms and phrases described the new realities of modern warfare, and it became a fleeting publishing phenomenon. When one of the most famous Australian troop publications was created in 1918, it was called Aussie.</p>
<p>Aussie was highly successful, at home as well as abroad. Ten thousand copies of the first edition were produced; there were 100,000 copies by the third and the whole 13 issues were republished in a bound edition in 1920. Aussie magazine, slanguage and other mementos of trench life are showcased in a recently opened University of Melbourne exhibition.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=718&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=718&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115398/original/image-20160317-30234-n27429.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=718&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Aussie magazine, issue 12. CLICK TO ENLARGE.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“Compree”, (from the French <em>compris</em>) meant “I understand” or “Do you understand?” “Merci bokoo”, obviously, meant thank you (from <em>merci beaucoup</em>). “Finee” meant done, finished (<em>fini</em>) and if you wanted something done right away, it’d be “toot suite” or “on the toot” (<em>tout de suite</em>). </p>
<p>Resorting to explicit language in print was of course inconceivable, so commentators on trench life wrote around it in Aussie: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Bert stopped laughing when Bill had used his extensive vocabulary sufficiently. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>The editor of Aussie, Phillip Harris, argued in his first editorial:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Others don’t like our slanguage. But Aussie would remind these friendly critics that there is a lot of slang in the talk of our Army. And whatever defects our Aussie vernacular may have, it certainly has the virtue of being expressive. Aussie merely aims at being a dinkum Aussie […] And, after all, the slang to-day is the language of to-morrow. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>“Dinkum” was not a preferred term of those friendly critics either, nor was “bonzer” or even “digger”. These slang words were associated with a lack of education and an embarrassment to the reputation of Australia, particularly in relation to the home country of many, Great Britain.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Here’s AUSSIE. He comes on strength of the A.I.F. […] His one object in life is to be bright and cheerful and interesting — to reflect that happy spirit and good humour so strongly evident thorough the Aussie Army. […] And that can only be given by you [the soldiers] in your own language and your own way. […] In short, make him a dinkum Aussie. </p>
<p>[…] Aussie does not consider that it shows lack of education for a Digger to call a gentleman a Digger—and the Digger who objects to being called a Digger doesn’t deserve the compliment. […] </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Bright, cheerful and interesting stories were the primary focus of this magazine created in France, in the field, under the patronage of the Australian Imperial Force (AIF). </p>
<p>For Harris, the Spirit of the AIF was to be found among the soldiery, not in the higher sphere of commandment. To capture that spirit, to get the tone “right”, Harris saw the vernacular as it was spoken in the trenches as central to conveying in print the otherwise predominantly oral culture of them. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=835&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=835&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=835&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1049&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1049&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/115407/original/image-20160317-30234-1volpk3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1049&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Aussie magazine, issue 5. CLICK TO ENLARGE.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Indeed, the slanguage of Australian soldiers was quite colourful to say the least, and soldiers took great pride in it. </p>
<p>Swearing was clearly a show of masculinity in this male-dominated environment and strong expletives were well suited to its harsh reality.</p>
<p>Long stretches of expletives were particularly welcome in extreme situations involving fear, anger, frustration, an unwillingness to cooperate and other strong negative emotions. They resulted in a form of reappropriation through the language of a situation that otherwise completely escaped them:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>He [a grumpy Australian soldier with a temper to match that of the weather: cold, wet, miserable] vomited three mouthfuls of the great Australian slanguage over the figure on the road [that blocked his way back home with his cart] […] He emptied another collection of variegated slanguage over her, [..] He asked the atmosphere emphatically what the unprintable language it thought of the woman [which turned out to be a statue] […]For the first time on record his remarkable accumulation of high-power language had lost its impelling power!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>An interesting counter-example may be found in a piece entitled: “Why we should have an instructor in politeness in Corps staff”. In this comic story, a caricature of “soft”, elaborated language is used amidst the harsh reality of the trenches.</p>
<p>There is also a clear comment on social class and on the old-fashioned values of the “old” world that the British Empire represents: dinkum Aussies have dinkum names and don’t talk that talk:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[…]First Digger: Cuthbert, I have reason to believe that the foe has succeeded in striking my shoulder with a projectile. May I beg of you to bind up the wound?
<br>
Second Digger: Dear! dear!—how unfortunate! It is almost enough to make one say a wicked word. I shall gladly bind up your wound, Clarence. […] </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Of course it would be misleading to solely equate Aussie magazine with its preoccupation with foul language. In fact, detractors of the magazine were primarily bothered with words like “Aussie”. </p>
<p>Harris, who was not a linguist, responded in his second editorial with an incredibly modern statement, that foreshadowed the sociolinguistics (study of language in its social context of production) of the 1960s:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[…] Some say that Aussie is not a nice word. But Aussie is the name that has been practically universally adopted by the Australian soldier for himself. “Aussie” means “Australian soldier” and “Australia”. It’s short and friendly-like. One seldom hears the word Australia or Australian used over here in our general conversation. Therefore, it is not for Aussie to judge whether it is a good word or a bad one – whether it is a soul-stirring euphony or a lingual catastrophe. It is used by his cobbers and that’s good enough for Aussie. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>If the impact of Aussie as a title is somewhat lost on 21st century Australian readers, it is clear that back then its claim for one’s own distinct identity from other colonial troops and dominions would not have gone unnoticed.</p>
<p>It was 1918, and Australia was slowly coming to terms with its identity, distinct from its British counterparts. Slanguage – celebrated by Aussie magazine – was a powerful tool to shape and claim a new collective identity. Irreverence, self-deprecating humour and (s)language worked hand in hand to sustain that fiercely independent and proud Aussie spirit.</p>
<p><br></p>
<hr>
<p><em><a href="http://library.unimelb.edu.au/france">Somewhere in France – Australians on the Western Front</a> is a free exhibition held at the University of Melbourne, Baillieu Library, level 1, Noel Shaw Gallery until 27 June.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/56145/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Diane de Saint Léger does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
When Australians went to the Western Front, language failed them. So they invented slanguage: a mix of slang, French words and creative swearing that, among other things, gave us the word “Aussie”.
Diane de Saint Léger, Languages and Linguistics , The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/45272
2015-07-29T10:20:55Z
2015-07-29T10:20:55Z
What if your cute little angel starts to say dirty little words?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/89850/original/image-20150727-7626-1wqra0a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Are the Minion toys using the F-word?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/90412460@N00/9200694448/in/photolist-g4p3kb-oYu6Y1-h8E2G6-f22XUU-f4uc9y-uCFEwL-fd3dD8">Bro. Jeffrey Pioquinto, SJ</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>How do young children learn to swear – and why do they seem to do it at the most inappropriate moments? </p>
<p>Recently, a group of parents have become convinced that the <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/minion-toys-mcdonald-happy-meals-curse-parents-article-1.2287755">Minion toys</a> in McDonald’s Happy Meals are saying, “What the f—k!” To protest, they have taken to the airwaves to warn others about the potentially corrupting influence of the mealtime treat. </p>
<p>McDonald’s responded to the criticism by explaining that Minions are just speaking Minionese, “a random combination of languages and nonsense words.” The company says <a href="http://theweek.com/speedreads/565414/parents-convinced-that-minions-toys-mcdonalds-happy-meals-are-saying-what-fk">nothing</a> they say can be translated into any known language. </p>
<p>As a child psychologist and early childhood educator, I study how children learn to communicate their feelings – and am well-acquainted with their ability to use new words at the most embarrassing moments. </p>
<p>So, are children today swearing more than they did previously? Well – yes and no.</p>
<h2>Why children curse</h2>
<p>Children are <a href="http://www.livescience.com/8667-3-kids-learning-swear-earlier.html">learning to swear</a> at an earlier age. <a href="http://www.mcla.edu/Academics/undergraduate/academic-programs/psychology/timothyjay/">Timothy Jay, a psychology professor</a>, suggests that the rise in profanity among children is not surprising, given the <a href="http://pps.sagepub.com/content/4/2/153.short">general rise</a> in the use of swearing among adults since the 1980’s. </p>
<p>“By the time kids go to school now, they’re <a href="http://www.livescience.com/8667-3-kids-learning-swear-earlier.html">saying all the words</a> that we try to protect them from on television,” says Jay. “We find that swearing really takes off between (ages) three and four.” </p>
<p>However, children do not appear yet to be using worse swear words than in the past – just common swear words more often, according to the <a href="http://www.mcla.edu/Assets/uploads/MCLA/Ashley/Faculty/Children%20cursing_Psyc_Jay.pdf">new research</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/89952/original/image-20150728-3945-upyx4i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/89952/original/image-20150728-3945-upyx4i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/89952/original/image-20150728-3945-upyx4i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/89952/original/image-20150728-3945-upyx4i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/89952/original/image-20150728-3945-upyx4i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/89952/original/image-20150728-3945-upyx4i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/89952/original/image-20150728-3945-upyx4i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">When young children swear, they are usually repeating what they’ve heard.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/aarongilson/5419284543/in/photolist-9fTfup-6kTiJr-9fTexk-8iP2A5-7Gh11X-6KkyMp-6JMMkb-47wDss-6DhTtY-5B8MHf-pLwdL8-8Utyb5-69QZWh-cFayz-iGt5-CjrmT-b6zXfM-6T8sJA-9Bopx-byAAEt-6C6yb1-q7wxN-5h3ZuD-5d5rGW-7ugnyF-7byFRE-jbW9Qs-5B8N2j-rBEsFP-6r8FqT-rdyWk-pY4m2a-aqU5XR-9wRYn-9G8TJr-kNvEna-pAXdTj-nPG5Qd-9WVcdr-iSfi2-cerP4j-9qh6c8-qNT3C-qNTQG-7sQukA-cqB46h-jiJKf-5vwYzP-5fvx2f-59ogX2">aaron gilson</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When young children swear before the age of two or three years old, they are usually just repeating what they have heard. Because they are learning to use language to communicate, children mimic words to make sounds and to see how those around them will respond. Through these responses, children come to understand what the words mean.</p>
<p>So, before taking your young child’s insult to heart, it may be important to realize that she may have no idea what she is actually saying. </p>
<p>When slightly older, children swear for different reasons. If they do not hear a word often, they may be using it because they do not understand that it is offensive. </p>
<p>Perhaps they have heard it pass through the lips of someone they admire. And they say it in an attempt to be similarly cool. Or, they might just like the sound of it. </p>
<p>By the time children are in pre-K and kindergarten, they often begin to realize that curse words are offensive and may quit swearing on their own. But, as I have <a href="http://drtraviswright.com/wp-content/uploads/Wright-2014-Revisiting-risk-re-thinking-resilience-Fighting-.pdf">found</a> in my clinical work, they may still “drop the bomb” when they are scared, feeling frustrated or want to hurt others. </p>
<p>While working as a school counselor, I found that some children like the attention receive when “talking dirty” and may use profanity to show off in front of their peers. </p>
<h2>When words have superpowers</h2>
<p>As I have found in my work, when words get an extreme reaction, children are <a href="http://drtraviswright.com/wp-content/uploads/Wright-2013-I-keep-me-safe.pdf">more likely</a> to view that word as important and retain it for future use. </p>
<p>Likewise, given that most people curse when they are frustrated, shocked, thrilled, or otherwise emotionally charged, profanity is usually uttered with a little extra “oomph!” </p>
<p>Children in the midst of developing their own vocabularies are like language vacuum cleaners, sucking up as many words as they can. Emotionally charged expletives <a href="http://www.mcla.edu/Assets/uploads/MCLA/Ashley/Faculty/Children%20cursing_Psyc_Jay.pdf">stand out</a> like superheroes. </p>
<p>Though they may not know what they mean, curse words are internalized as words with superpowers. And they get <a href="http://drtraviswright.com/wp-content/uploads/Wright-2013-I-keep-me-safe.pdf">used</a> when normal words just won’t fit the bill. </p>
<p>That’s why children often curse at the most embarrassing moments – when visiting the dentist for the first time, in the grocery checkout aisle when told they can’t have a package of gum, on the first day of school or when your boss is invited over for dinner. </p>
<p>In each of these examples, children might be confronting new or different expectations, experiencing fear, frustration or disappointment, or <a href="http://drtraviswright.com/wp-content/uploads/Wright-2014-Too-Scared-to-Learn.pdf">receiving less attention</a> than might be typical. </p>
<p>Likewise, during times when you are distracted, nervous or frustrated, your child’s anxiety may also be <a href="http://drtraviswright.com/wp-content/uploads/Wright-2013-I-keep-me-safe.pdf">heightened</a>. Because they have learned, perhaps from you, that curse words are for moments when we aren’t really sure what else to say, it often seems that they let them fly when we most wish they would not. </p>
<h2>How to clean up the potty mouth</h2>
<p>To prevent younger children from cursing, prevention is the best strategy. </p>
<p>If children are not exposed to profanity, <a href="http://www.livescience.com/8667-3-kids-learning-swear-earlier.html">they will not begin</a> using it. Though television, cartoons and the world at large are full of curse words, children are most likely to hear adult language at home. </p>
<p>It may not help that parents can sometimes be hypocritical when it comes to swearing. Nearly two-thirds of adults surveyed who had rules about their children swearing at home found that they broke their own rules on a regular basis. </p>
<p>This sends a mixed, confusing message about swearing and when it’s appropriate. </p>
<p>For older children, understanding why your child is cursing and what the cursing is meant to communicate is important in determining how best to respond. For example, if the child swears only when frustrated, he may not have another way to express himself. </p>
<p>Suggesting more acceptable language or providing more constructive outlets for his frustration will redirect the behavior. And cursing should diminish. </p>
<p>So, if the “Minions parents” are talking too much about “WTF” in front of their children, they can be sure that their children will likely be using the expression the next time they need to communicate a big emotion. </p>
<p>My advice: if they don’t like what the toys are saying, throw them away and don’t make a big deal out of it!</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/45272/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Travis Wright does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Did your child just drop the F-bomb? What can you do?
Travis Wright, Assistant Professor of Multicultural Education, Teacher Education, and Childhood Studies, University of Wisconsin-Madison
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.