Do you need an excuse to watch Netflix?

I have discovered a justification for my somewhat decadent habit of watching British mystery series on Netflix.  If I spend a portion of viewing time analyzing British dialects along with trying to solve puzzles, surely I am furthering my knowledge of Linguistics, wouldn't you think?

"George Gently" is the latest crime series on Netflix that is encouraging me to consider English dialects of Great Britain.  The drama is set in the 1960's in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, located in Northeast England.

Newcastle-upon-Tyne

The two main characters are Detective Inspector George Gently and Detective Sergeant John Bacchus.

Gently  (left) and Bacchus (right)

George Gently is from London, but John Bacchus is a local boy who speaks a dialect of English called Geordie, especially when he is interviewing townspeople or speaking informally. Sometimes George has to rely on John for a translation of Geordie into Standard English in order to proceed with the investigation. I enjoy both characters; however, Bacchus' unusual accent adds to his charm (or could it be his Beatles-style haircut?)

The first difference I noticed in Geordie dialect was the use of rising intonation, with the speaker's voice going up at the end of sentences. This feature remindes me of melodic Scottish English, which I look forward to hearing when travels take me to Scotland.

I began to notice special vocabulary words used by Bacchus and other local residents, such as "nowt" (rhymes with "out') for the standard "nothing."  A female character on last night's show told Gently she had lost everything - her husband and her means of support - and now she had "nowt." And she was expecting a "bairn" (baby). Bacchus often uses a term of endearment, "pet" when addressing females (especially attractive ones!). I suppose "pet" would translate to "hon" or "honey" in Texas dialect.

The most striking feature of Geordian grammar I have observed so far is the use of the plural pronoun "us" in place of the singular pronoun "me" when referring to oneself.  John had made an illegal entry into a farmhouse to secure evidence when a young man arrived on a motorcycle and discovered his presence.  John later confesses to Gently, "They saw us in the house."  When I discussed the scene with my fellow Netflix-watcher and husband, Wayne, he said that he couldn't figure out why John had said "us." He thought maybe John was referring to the entire investigation. Amazing how one small word can lead our minds down different paths.

Although the Geordie dialect was virtually banned on British television until the 1960's and 1970's, a 2008 newspaper survey by The Scotsman found it to be "the most attractive in England."  And I would have to agree.

I look forward to spending more quality time watching BBC programs and learning more about British dialects.  And thank goodness for closed captioning to help me in my research!

Finding New Words in Old Books

Do you ever find yourself bored with using the same old words and expressions?  I do.  One of the joys of teaching a recent short course in "Golden Age Mysteries" was discovering words and expressions not common to modern American English. 

The Golden Age of Mystery writing occurred approximately between the two world wars of the 20th century, so the language used by Golden Age writers is almost a century old.  In these writings, language change as a gradual process is readily observable; after all, we can still read old mysteries with ease. But a few delightful words and expressions pop up in the writing that remind me that I am reading British literature of the early 20th century. And I may decide to incorporate some new ways of speaking into my modern American English, just for the novelty of it.

"Beastly."  What a potent adjective to describe our dislike of something or someone.  In Edgar Wallace's The Daffodil Mystery, Thornton Lyne is trying to seduce Odette Rider by referring to his poetry book.  "Most of it was written before I came into this beastly shop...." I may find "beastly" useful in complaining about the very unpleasant spring dust storms in my home town, and, even more important,  the expression may satisfy my need to use a stronger, less ladylike adjective.

"Rotten little bounder." Agatha Christie, in her first novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles,"   has John Cavendish so describe Alfred Inglethorp, an interloper who has married John's wealthy seventy year old stepmother.  Surely I can use "rotten little bounder" often to describe someone in my life who has done something I don't approve of.

"Peckish."  Now that is a word I'm sure I will use to describe my snacking habit near bedtime.  The memorable character Mr. Lugg in Margery Allingham's Look to the Lady offers food to Val Gyrth, a down and out young man, adding, "I always get peckish about this time o'night myself." 

"Sacked."  A strong alternative to "fired from a job."   Author Anthony Berkeley in Trial and Error has Ferrers tell Todhunter how morale is down in his publishing company because of many recent dismissals of personnel.  "Sacked!  Poor old Ogilvie's been sacked, to put it frankly...,"  And Todhunter is so impressed that he plans a murder! 

"Pinch."  A descriptive word for the crime of stealing.  "Pilfer" would be a synonym.  Dorothy L. Sayers makes humorous use of multiple meanings of pinch by having Pym's Advertising Agency reject the advertising slogan to accompany the image of a girl moving a cushion in a train compartment with the warning, "Don't let them pinch your seat." 

Language offers infinite possibilities to express ourselves in speaking and writing.  Why should we be confined to language of our present decade?  Creative use of language, drawing from many sources (yes, even slang) , encourages our minds to travel to new places and different eras.