Gertrude. Photo by Damon Winter/NY Times
Language Hat told me about a story in the New York Times, by Elizabeth Giddens. It is about a Rhode Island Red hen in Bedford-Stuyvesant. Take a look. One thing she says, about passers by who always ask the same questions of her, is:
We’ve considered posting an F.A.Q. sheet — yes, they’re hens; no, they don’t need a rooster to make eggs — but that would spoil the fun. People like working it out among themselves.
It’s true of our goats’ audience too, I’ve thought of painting a big sign: THEY’RE GOATS. I’d never before reflected that people might actually enjoy asking the questions, but they probably do.
A Bad Guide 
Suppose the sign was: THEIR GOATS. Would that suggest that the goats are in jealous hands ? Or would it encourage speculation about the literacy of the owners ? You might learn something useful about a person’s personality on the basis of how they reacted to such a sign.
God, I thought no one was ever going to comment on this.
Tell the truth, I’d probably put “De er geiter”, or something similar. Now why are you encouraging bad grammar? Isn’t it bad enough that I can’t spell? Or maybe that is bad spelling. I’ll leave it to the linguists.
“Their goats” may be an animal liberation thing, of course.
You mean like the “my belly” of women’s liberation ? In the German ’70s, one was confronted here, there and everywhere with cries of Mein Bauch gehört mir !.
Stu: THEIR GOATS
AJP: “De er geiter”
Geitene sine
There’s a nice ambiguity to that. It’s either “the goats’ (things)” or a play on an odd expression of affectionate appreciation, used when someone, especially children, has done something praiseworthy.:
Det var* geitene** sine, det!, lit. “that was their (own) goats, that”
I once thought of making myself a T-shirt with the words Gutten sin, but I think I ended up painting it on a jug for a student’s cottage.
* The “mirative” preterite is idiomatic in such expressions.
** It’s somewhat more common with gutten or jenta.
The “mirative” preterite
???
Mein Bauch gehört mir !
I could use this; its expansion has come in for some recent criticism.
As so often, it was women who found this new way to disarm criticism and interference, while men were still confronting each other with “What’s it to ya ?”.
Stu, you should read the chicken story if you haven’t done so. It’s quite good.
Apparently, it’s past my bedtime.
The “mirative” preterite
I dropped that casually into the discussion, didn’t I? It’s been my darling obscure feature of Norwegian grammar since I was made aware of it a couple of years ago. The preterite is used without past-ness in expressions of surprise or conclusivity: Dette var godt! “This is good!”, Du var jaggu pen! “Gee, you’re pretty!” Nå var det kaldt. “It’s cold now.”, Da var vi framme! “We’re there!”
In the Guatemalan mountain village I lived in, I toyed with doing up a T-shirt that said
“No hijos
No esposa
No novia
Tengo 36 años”
The questions were always put in that order.
Georgian uses the present perfect with admirative sense too. The underlying idea seems to be to emphasize that something only recently revealed to the speaker was in fact true in the past.
Trond, I’ll start using it immediately.
M, how do you know these things?
M, how do you know these things?
It’s just a knack that he has polished over the years. You may as well ask how Madonna knows how to make successful songs. The answer is: she has a knack, and has polished it over the years. Similarly with regard to plumbers and theoretical physicists.
There is a tendency among educated people to admit admiration and astonishment about “knowledge” knacks more than about other kinds. There is a tendency among baseball players to do the same about exceptionally good baseball players.
But after all you are probably not capable of judging whether what he says is true. If you did, you would be a knowledge knacker yourself. All you know is that he makes statements that seem to impart knowledge. Just as some of us do, some of the time.
Wouldn’t you buy the Brooklyn bridge, if it were offered to you ? If not, why not ? To know it all can make you miss opportunities.
I don’t think this is a knack in the sense of plumbers or physicists. For all I know M can plumb, and I don’t doubt he was born knowing tons and tons of theoretical physics, but finding his way around Georgian tenses is what he does on his break, the time Madonna and I use for napping.
I don’t need a bridge, thanks.
Of course, M’s prowess at findings things on the internet is legendary.
I was ready to do some debunking in this case, guessing that he started by googling “mirative” after reading Trond’s comment and that that’s what led him to Georgian. But no: When I try that, I quickly learn that another word for “mirative” is “admirative” and I see lists of languages having this feature; yet Georgian is not any of the lists I see. The plausible explanation is that he simply knows everything.
He knows everything partly because (and even though he has nine thousand books of his own) he spends much of his spare time, when he isn’t cooking, at the Boston public library. Mrs McM flies a plane and plays polo.
I probably know more about goats.
I am not trying to debunk MMcM and his works, but instead to deflate the astonishment and admiration expressed by Crown. In the approximate words of Tom Wolfe, I’m pooh-poohing the knack-claqueurs.
9000 books hin oder her, MMcM seems to me to be just another a guy with interesting stuff to relate. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be treated as a freak of erudition. I may be wrong, but I don’t think so.
Thanks for the link, M&M. I haven’t had time to digest it yet, but I will. Now I’ll just note that Scandinavian languages are mentioned on p. 342 with reference to Kjetil Rå Hauge (inter alia), the very same linguist who made me aware of the (ad)mirative in no.fag.spraak.diverse a couple of years ago.
Quite right, oh Grumbly one. But in general, being able to acknowledge & remark on these differences (as long as you don’t hurt someone’s feelings or cause excessive embarrassment) seems (to me) important. It’s similar to all the people coming to ask me if the goats are sheep, and how old are they, etc.
“I probably know more about goats.”
Beckett knew more about radishes.
And cricket.
I used to live next to one of the few cricket grounds in Dublin, in Ranelagh. Not sure if SB ever waved his willow there.
Why do Scotland & Ireland play less cricket than Wales & England? They all play football.
Not sure. The weather? Less public schools? Smaller middle class…
Also, minted people in Ireland favour horses and field sports, are they maybe less popular in Wales, but do those sort of people play cricket in Wales…
It’s a darn mystery. And why does the England team have always a couple of Welsh players, yet never thinks to change its name…
I don’t think it would necessarily be class bound in those places. I went on a rugby tour in Wales when I was fifteen, and all the schools our team played were comprehensives in steel or mining towns, much more working class than English teams; it was an all-inclusive national sport, at least for boys, like cricket is in the Caribbean.
That’s what I’m suggesting, AJ, that in Eire it *is* more classbound.
They also have some other sports, too, lacrosse, the one where they hit each other with sticks for an hour.
Oh, I see. Do you have Irish family (isn’t Pinhut an Irish name)?
Pinhut is a made up name. As it happens, I do, my mother’s family are the Desmonds and my fathers are the Kennedys.
Genetically, I felt at home in Dublin, lots of men who look similar to myself, but it was such a pain with the English accent, but more, realising, “Hmmm, perhaps I don’t feel English, but I’m certainly not Irish…”
Did I tell you the worst, this month I met an American professor and she asked me, “Your English is so good, and what part of Latin America are you from?” This was without me having mentioned Guatemala! Can my voice really have incorporated that sound?
Maybe I’ll change the name again, Umberto Pinhut
Umberto O’Pinhut sounds Joycian.
Whichever place is mentioned, Pinhut used to live just around the corner.
He’s a widely-travelled authority on Taiwanese election posters.
Only England, Ireland, US, Guatemala and Taiwan, Trond.
They’re spread out, so they count for more than Norway, Sweden & Denmark.
Here’s a fine Chilean adventurer, AJ, Bernardo O’Higgins, who has many statues of himself dotted around Latin America.
Poor old Bernardo, remembered in this case with no balls and two right legs.
Brings to mind this :
According to photographer Andres Serrano, when he told Joyce he wanted to capture his soul, Joyce replied: “Forget the soul. Just get the tie right.”
Lord knows why that says Andres Serrano, Joyce died before he was born, and Serrano’s known for things more transgressive than faithfully snapping neckwear.
I bet here‘s why you thought of Andres Serrano. The painter in question was Patrick Tuohy, I believe.
I had to Google the quote, and then I copied and pasted it. And yes, somebody, somewhere, has combined them to devastating effect (for the facts).
But I never *thought* of Andres Serrano as the painter in question (I’d hate anybody to think that)…
Yes, that makes more sense. My apologies.
Thanks, I felt like one of these, but it’s wearing off now.
Do you have a favourite, AJ?
I’m the pale blue one with the heavy black eyebrow. I can’t remember his name.
When you look at the Tuohy painting, you can see why Joyce was worried.
The mixup may come from the NY Times piece or maybe from someone who was reading the book where the quote’s supposed to have been found, Who’s Who In Hell, by Warren Allen Smith, you can see why both Serrano & Joyce would be in that.
“Mrs McM flies a plane and plays polo.” Bloody hell, that sounds demanding. Doesn’t the noise of the engine upset the pony?
Hahaha. Where have you been, dearie?
Wonderful story, thank you! It’s lovely how the chickens could unite the neighbourhood.
While I read this some noisy ducks are claiming for bread. Or that’s what I think, because I saved them some… Diego says they don’t actually need me, they have enough food at their home. ¡Aguafiestas!
I have enough food at home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to go to restaurants.
That’s a curious argumentation pattern, Crown: the search for variety as justification for any kind of action. “I have enough love at home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to chase more downtown”.
What’s curious? Plenty of people take part in your reductio ad absurdum. Variety is the spice of life, ask any duck.
Yeah, that’s why so many of them end their days as Spicy Duck Curry.
AJP, you can’t possibly be Sam the Eagle, he’s the conservative one who “works behind the scenes of The Muppet Show as self-appointed censor and advocate of cultural, educational acts.” http://muppet.wikia.com/wiki/Sam_the_Eagle
Oh, no! Thanks. It’s so easy to be attracted by a eyebrow and then find you’re with completely the wrong muppet.
Thanks, AJP, your argument was perfect, very inspiring.
As – you – can – see.
What lovely pictures! Is that Uruguay?
Yes, a tiny part of Uruguay (a corner outside our spot in the apart hotel where we stayed)