Letter to Rebecca #24-10

H, apostrophes, place names, persiflage

This is the latest letter in my regular, informal correspondence with Substacker and fellow Brit Rebecca Holden, in which we take turns every other Wednesday to delve into the things that British people talk about the most. So that you can explore these unashamed clichés for yourself we’re inviting you to read our letters over our shoulders.

My next ‘Experiment in Style’ post will of course be published on Sunday. To ensure you don’t miss that…

Dear Rebecca

Thank you for your delightful letter. Lots to talk about now. Let’s start with ‘h’.

The H people

There appears to be a particular type of person who over-compensates.

For example, they will pronounce the letter “h” with the sound of the “h”. More often than not the same people, not sure of where or when to use an apostrophe, will bung one in anywhere, just in case. For instance:

“I bought a lovely bunch of banana’s.”

There is even a phenomenon known as “greengrocer’s apostrophe”.

I feel so aggrieved by this that I have joined the Apostrophe Protection Society in order to create an activist section. I will need to ensure that member’s are suitably vetted. They will then be given permanent felt tip marker’s and told to seek out any poster’s with apostrophe’s in the wrong place, or missing altogether, and then apply the necessary corrective measure’s. I hope you will join u’s¹.

The apostrophe and “h” people will also, in a vain attempt to sound grammatically correct, use “I” instead of “me”, as in:

“A similar thing happened to my wife and I.” If they thought about it for a moment, they could take out the “my wife and” part to see if it works, and they would get:

“A similar thing happened to I.”

Austen-related persiflage: wot’s in a name?

Anyway, on to other matters. I came across a website that enables you to find out your Jane Austen name. Mine is Mr Reginald Lucas of Kellynch Hall. I’d have preferred to have had “Sir” or “Lord” rather than just plain old “Mr”, but the rest of it isn’t bad. I wonder what your Jane Austen name is, Becks.

Names

Your bit about surnames made me chuckle, and reminded me of an article by Paul Jennings called Ware, Wye, Watford, in which he suggested that English placenames had a strange onomatopoeic quality. He invented meanings for various place names.

For example:

Beccles: a disease suffered by sheep.

Dawlish: slow, stagnant.

Letchworth: a libertine.

Purfleet: a racing cat.

Wembley: slightly under the weather — “I’m feeling a bit wembley today.”

Evil salad

I couldn’t click on the video about the “evil” salad ingredient. A bit of a shame because I was going to make Elaine a nice salad. 🤔

Bookishness

That blurb you quoted was astoundingly honest, or an interesting marketing ploy. I know that when I come across a scathing review it makes me want to read the book!

How about this one, which I came across in 2021. I’d rather not link to the review in case the author decides to sue me for spreading libel, but it begins like this and gets steadily worse:

“This is the most unreadable book I have ever read. Not only is it poorly written on a sentence-by-sentence level, but it is also intellectually incoherent and, at times, of questionable veracity.”

I’ve started two books recently: Adventures in Maps and The Castle of Crossed Destinies.

I was sent a review copy of the Maps one. It’s published on 7th June. It’s a really interesting and fascinating read.

The Castle of Crossed Destinies, by Italo Calvino, is a book I’ve been meaning to read for years. The stories and their relationships to each other were devised by Calvino using two Tarot packs. I’ve read only his notes about it so far, and it sounds intriguing and beguiling.

I am afraid I have to sign off now. My feet are killing me, unsurprisingly given that I’ve walked over 17,000 steps today. I don’t write with my feet, but everything’s connected isn’t it?

To anyone reading this missive, you can see the whole archive here. Rebecca should reply next Wednesday, so make sure you don’t miss that by subscribing to hers.

1. Dear Reader, please see also Rebecca’s take on all this apostrophising:

112. A letter to Terry ✒️ #26