Speak like an Anglo-Saxon

Speak like a Saxon: Know your place

2011-10-30T09:13:00.000-07:00

Life in a monastery was ordered and organised. Particular roles within the community would be dealt out accordingly, as is still the case. The Poor Claires in Assisi have their news filleter, and the Anglo-Saxons, it seems, had a filleter in the more edible sense...

Say "Ic eom twiccere" [itch ey-om twitch-er-uh] and you're the 'one who divides up the food in the monstery'. (It's a bit like being Mother at afternoon tea).

*This super specific word appears in the Old English Vocabularies, Col.127, edited by T. Wright and R. P. Wuelker (London, 1884)

Speak like a Saxon #28: Camping

2010-07-30T14:08:00.000-07:00

I'm going camping next week! A quick glance through the delightful OEME English - Old English Dictionary tells me that our Anglo Saxon ancestors had a word for a tent:

teld ['teld']

and even a word for a specially portable tent:

Ganggeteld ['gang-yuh-teld']

Now, to be honest I doubt whether the average Anglo-Saxon would have enjoyed camping much. For most of them the outside was a very scary place indeed; where monsters lurked; where the cold wind blew and where it rained an awful lot.

Pilgrims, however, might just have needed to take a ganggeteld with them as they ventured out into the wide world on their quest to meet with God.

So if you happen to be an Anglo-Saxon pilgrim on your journeys, you might need these phrases:

Gif me þone teldsticcan- Give me the tent peg ['Yif may tho-nuh teld-stick-an']
Hwær cwom teldwyrhta? - Where is the tent-maker? ['Hwaar kwom teld-wuur-ch-ta?']

Speak like a saxon #27: Party games

2010-06-13T10:47:00.000-07:00

It's barbecue/garden party/pimms season, and if you're in search of a new ice-breaker or game, then look no further than the Anglo-Saxons. They had riddles aplenty that would get the old monks and farmers scratching their heads in wonder.
Can you guess what the answer is?

Nis min sele swige, ne ic sylfa hlud
ymb dryhtsele; unc dryhten scop
siþ ætsomme. Ic eom swiftra þonne he,
þragum strengram he þreohtigra.
Hwilum ic me rest; he sceal rinnan forð.
Ic him in wunige ā þenden ic life;
gif wit unc gedælað, me bið deað witod.

My soul is not silent, nor am I myself loud
around splendid hall; us two the Lord created
at the same time. I am faster than he,
at times he is the stronger enduring.
When I rest myself, he runs forth.
I dwell in him all the time I live;
if we two are separated, I will die.

Here’s how to say it:
[Nis meen say-luh swee-yuh, nay itch sylf-a hlood
imb dricht-say-luh; unk dricht-en skop
sith at-som-nuh. Itch ay-om swift-ra thon-nuh hay,
thrag-um streng-ram hay threo-ch (like in loch)-tig-ra.
Hwee-lum itch may rest; hay shay-al rin-an forth.
Itch him in woo-ni-yuh aaa thenden itch lee-fuh;
yif wit unk ye-day-lath, may bith day-ath wit-odd.]

This edition of the riddle is taken from Mitchell and Robinson's A Guide to Old English (Sixth Edition)

Speak like a Saxon #26: Presents

2010-02-19T07:59:00.000-08:00

In 943, King Edmund gave a guy called Eadric some land and a water mill and wrote it down to make sure everybody knew. Most of it was in Latin, but the important bits, like where the land was, were in English to remove aaaany chance of doubt.

You can read the text here: http://www.esawyer.org.uk/content/charter/491.html

Next time you give someone a present, do it Anglo-Saxon style: write a big, flowery description, give yourself some jumped-up titles and then get absolutely all of your friends to sign it. Here are some important things to include:

In the name of God most high and mighty who governs the heights of Heaven, both the visible and invisible...

Taking into account the fragile mutability of this life....

I [Insert name here] king of the [insert nation] people and all the other people living around about here...

I give to my faithful friend who has the name [insert friend's name here] for his loveable compliance and his pleasing fidelity...

[Name Gift]

[Describe gift in immense detail]

This gift was conducted in the year of our Lord's Incarnation [Insert year].

Signed...

Try fitting all of that onto a gift label.

Speak like a Saxon #25: Yarrr, fighting?

2010-01-25T13:57:00.000-08:00

It's easy to think that the Anglo-Saxons and the vikings didn't often see eye to eye. There were lots of nasty things said, involving damnation and probably mothers, but it wasn't always swords and blood and daggers at dawn...

In 867, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Parker and Laud Manuscripts, for those who are interested) has this to say:

In this year, the same host [That's the vikings] went into Mercia [the Midlands] to Nottingham, and there took winter quarters [i.e. they camped out]. And Burhred, king of Mercia and his councillors begged Athelred, king of Wessex, and his brother Alfred [the Great one, of cakes fame] to help them fight the host; and then in 868 they proceeded with the West Saxon armies into Mercia as far as Nottingham, and there came upon the host in the fortification, but there was no serious fighting, and the Mercians made peace with the host.*

How did they do it? Possibly bribery, possibly a bit of slanging insults around...Imagine the scene (you can reproduce this in your office for a bit of fun):

Alfred: 'If you're friendly I'll give you money' - Gif þu freonde sie, giefe þe gafol ["yif thoo frey-ond-uh see-uh, yee-eff-uh thee gaf-ol"]

Viking [this is actually Old Norse]: 'You are wretched in respect to your shield fortification!' - Vesall ertu þinna skjaldborgar ["Ves-all errr-too thin-na skjald-borr-garr"]**

Alfred: 'Yer mum..' - þine modor... ["thee-nuh mow-door"]

Viking [in Old Norse]: 'Whatever' - Vera má at svá sé ["Vair-ah maw at svaw say"] (Well, technically this means 'it may be that is so', but that's not so snappy)

...at which point Alfred, in a huff, turns on his heels and hands over some gold for good measure. The vikings, thinking this is a pretty good wheeze and keen on getting some more money, stay for a bit longer...

* The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, ed. and transl. G. N. Garmonsway (1953)

**this Old Norse comes from a story called Hrolfs saga kraka

Speak like a Saxon #24: happiness

2010-01-23T14:47:00.000-08:00

Ask most people and they'd say they'd rather be happy than sad. What's the key to happiness? Some might say love or friends or peace or God. What did the Anglo-Saxons think? Lots of the literature talks about how misleading and short-lived the things of the world are. Like cake. Once you've eaten your cake, it's gone (ok, maybe the Anglo-Saxons didn't specifically mention cake, but I like it). Or fancy clothes: they wear out. So, they key for the Anglo-Saxon was God. After all, Jesus said "I have come that men may have life, and life in it's fullest" (John 10:10). Sounds like a pretty happy thing to me.

Here are some phrases that an old archbishop, Wulfstan, said to his people:

'This world is in haste and nears its end' - ðeos woruld is on ofste and hit nealæcð þam ende ["they-oss wor-uld iss on off-stuh and hit ney-ah-lack-th tham end-uh"]

'Let's love God' - Uton God lufian ["oot-an God luff-ee-an"]

'Let's claim the glory and happiness that God has prepared' - geearnian us þa mæðe and þa myrðe þe God gegearwod ["ye-ey-ar-nee-an us tha may-r-thuh and tha moor-thuh they God ye-yay-ar-wod"]

Speak like a Saxon #23: Saturday night

2010-01-17T08:47:00.000-08:00

I had a great Saturday night: an excellent concert by a wonderful orchestra that had the audience toe-tapping along. What might the Anglo-Saxons have done of a dark and rainy Saturday night?

'I drink beer' - Ic drince beor ["Itch drink-uh bey-or"]

'I listen to a harpist' - Ic hiere hearpestre ["Itch hee-air-uh hey-arp-es-truh"]

'I write a poem' - Ic write leoð ["Itch w-reet-uh ley-oth"]

'I woo the woman' - Ic awogie wifman ["Itch a-wo-gee-uh weef-man"]

Speak like a Saxon #22: snow

2010-01-10T10:47:00.000-08:00

I used to think snow was fun. The way it lands on your nose; how slippery it is and it's nice to throw at people. Now, with a bruised coccyx and wet feet, I'm with the Anglo-Saxons. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the outside world is a scary place! It's nice to look at, but going out in it takes real courage, will-power and faith. There's a poem about a man who goes out to sea as a pilgrim, giving up his life of pleasure on land to seek out the Lord. Try out some of his words...

For expressing your discomfort after you've just trudged into work through the snow and the slush:

'My feet were all oppressed with cold' = calde geþrungen wæron mine fet ["kald-uh ye-thrung-en where-on meen-uh fait"]

When it's really nasty out there and you don't hear the boss ringing your mobile:

'I couldn't hear a thing except the roaring sea' = þær ic ne gehyrde butan hlimman sæ ["there itch ney ye-hoord-uh but-an hlim-an say"]

When you get lost in the park by the pond:

'I lived sorrowfully in the ice-cold sea all winter' - ic earmcearig iscealdne sæ winter wunade ["Itch ey-arm-kay-ar-iy ees-kay-ald-nuh say winter wun-ad-uh"]

When you're soggy and cold, because:

'Hail showers fell' - hægl scurum fleag ["hay-ul skoor-um fley-ag"]

Speak like a Saxon #21: Christmas

2009-12-27T08:46:00.000-08:00

'Merry Christmas!' - gesælige cristesmæsse! ["ye-sail-ee-yuh krist-es-mas-uh"]

What to do at Christmas time? Rejoice and be merry like the Anglo-Saxons! God Almighty sought out this world and dwelt among us. Like Christians today, the Anglo-Saxon Christians celebrated the incarnation of God at this time in the deep midwinter, remembering God's immeasurable mercy and salvation. As one Anglo-Saxon writer (in a tenth-century sermon) said: 'In these days the king of all kings and the ruler of all rulers came to this world from heaven out of love for us". God made man, who in turn was to die and be raised again to everlasting life was as much cause for celebration then as it was now.

'Let's rejoice and be merry' - Utan we blissian and gefeon ["oot-an wey bliss-ee-an and ye-fey-on"]

'Then Mary gave birth to her son, wrapped him in swaddling bands and laid him in a manger' - þa cende Maria hio sunu, and hio mid claðum hine bewand and on binne* alegde ["thaa ken-duh Mar-ee-a hee-o sun-oo and hee-o mid claa-thum hee-nuh be-wand and on bin-nuh a-ley-duh"] (This is from Vercelli Homily 5)

'Glory to God in the highest!' - Wuldor sie Gode on heannesse ["wul-dor see-yuh Go-duh on hey-aa-ness-uh"]

* Yes, that's right. Bin.

Speak like a Saxon #20: pets

2009-12-08T06:48:00.000-08:00

What will you choose as your four-legged, furry friend? Will it be the old faithful hound or the kitty (like one Old Irish scholar who loved his cat so much the puss featured in a poem)? A goat? A sheep? A minipig?*

'There's not much meat on that' - þæt hæfð lytel æte ["that haf-th loot-el ate-uh"]

'This is my house-chicken' - þeos is mine hamhenn ["they-oss iss meen-uh haam-hen"]

'Come here, Athelstan!' - Cum her Aðelstan! ["Cum hair Ath-el-stan"]

'Heel!' - Hela! ["hey-la"]

'No Ethel, you take the dog for a walk' -Ne Eðel, nimst þu docgan to gaenne ["Ney eth-el, nim-st thoo dog-an toe gaa-en-uh"]

*http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/devon/7044897.stm

Speak like a Saxon #19: in the office

2009-12-03T10:22:00.001-08:00

I paraphrase an unknown tenth-century Anglo Saxon sermon-writer here: laziness leads to disease; hard work to salvation*... something to bear in mind while you're sitting at your desk 'working' away and eyeing up the biscuit tin for longer than is really necessary. Assuming you are working, though, you'll be needing some Old English phrases to describe your day. Some geniuses put together an Old English computer glossary a while ago, and we're all hugely indebted to them (http://www.u.arizona.edu/~ctb/wordhord.html) .

'My computer has crashed. I can't do anything' - Min searowundor forbrecede. Ic mæg nanwuht wyrcan. ["Min sey-arr-o-wun-dor for-breck-e-duh. Itch may nan-wucht woor-kan"]

'Where has the internet gone??!' - Hwær cwom eormengrundwebb??! ["H-warr kwom ey-or-men-grund-webb"]

'We have a virus' - We habban wælwyrm ["wey hab-ban whale-woorm"] (this technically means a 'slaughter-worm'!)

'Hail the webmaster/webmistress' - Wes þu webba/webbestre hal ["wess thoo web-ba/web-es-tre haal"]

* written in Vercelli Homily VII. NB this doesn't, of course, take into account salvation by faith (see Romans 3:21-31)

Speak like a Saxon #18: wearing all your clothes at once

2009-12-03T09:51:00.000-08:00

Grendel was miserable when he had to traipse, outcast, through the cold, rimy, dingy fens, and so would you be too. Appropriate clothing is the key. Grendel and his mother hadn't heard of dressing for the weather, but you can keep out the chilly blasts with lots of nice furs and woollen stockings.

'This cap is made from hare'- þeos cæppe is gearwod of haran ["they-oss cap-uh iss ye-aar-wod off haa-rran"]

'I fear no hailstones' - Ic þracie nan hagolstanas ["Itch thratch-ee-uh nan hag-ol-stan-as"]

'My cape is thick' - Mine hacele is þicce ["Min hack-el-uh iss thick-uh"]

'My tunic is not short' - Min cyrtel nis lytel ["Min cur-tell niss loot-el"]

Sadly, there was no gortex footwear back in the day....

'Oh! there is snow in my shoe!' - Eala! Ic hæbbe snaw in mine calce! ["Ey-al-a! Itch habb-uh snaw in meen-uh kal-kuh"]

Angelcynn has an interesting article on Anglo-Saxon clothing here: http://mahan.wonkwang.ac.kr/link/med/england/anglo-saxon/culture/dress.html

Speak like a Saxon #17: less than a month until Christmas

2009-11-26T14:17:00.000-08:00

It’s less than a month until Christmas. Are you ready?

Have you got everything planned? What about a Christmas tree? A recent report proved that real trees are more environmentally friendly than the plastic ones.* Which is lucky really, since the Anglo-Saxons didn’t have plastic. They didn’t have Christmas trees either, for that matter, since the Tannenbaum was a Victorian fad stolen from Germany. But, details aside....

‘We have a proper Christmas tree’ – We habban geradlic Cristesmæssetreow [“way hab-ban ye-rad-litch Krist-es-mas-uh-tray-ow”]

‘You have a fake Christmas tree’ – þu hafast leas Cristesmæssetreow [“thoo haf-ast lay-as Krist-es-mas-uh-tray-ow”]

‘Our Christmas tree is environmentally friendly’ – Ure Cristesmæssetreow is middangeardfreondlic [“oo-re Krist-es-mas-uh-tray-ow iss mid-an-yay-ard-fray-ond-lic”]

* http://www.ellipsos.ca/modules/news/article.php?storyid=9&lang=english

Speak like a Saxon #16: when you've got to go...

2009-11-23T12:16:00.000-08:00

When you've got to go, you've got to go. Whether you're looking for the smallest room in the house; the little girls' room or the ladies, here's what you need:

Gangpytt - ["gang-pu*tt"] (* this is the where you say an "u" sound but make your lips round)

It means quite literally the 'pit where you go'. Nice.

So, if you're looking for the toilet, you might want to ask:

'Where's the place to go?' - Hwær cwom gangpytt? ["hwar kwom gang pu*tt?"]

And once the gangpytt is full, it needs to be cleaned. That's when you call for the:

Gangfeormer! ["gang-fey-or-mer-uh"]

It's not just a toilet cleaner but, a "goings-farmer". To be crude, a s**t shoveller, perhaps. These two words, gangpytt and gangfeormer, are real, bona fide Angl0-Saxon words. I don't think it was until the Normans came along with their courtly sensibilities that we got all prudish and started calling it the 'privy.

Speak like a Saxon #15: The weekend beckons

2009-11-20T05:45:00.001-08:00

You've got two whole days off before you have to start working again. That manuscript you've been copying for years can just wait. As can the money-counting for the thegn, the weaving and the hunting. For two days, you're going to have a weekend! But what to do...

'Let's sit and do nothing' - Uton we sittan and nales don ["oot-on way sit-an and naa-less don"]

'Let's eat turnips' - Uton we næpas abrucan ["oot-on way na-pas a-broo-can"]

'Let's sing psalms' - Uton we sealmas singan ["oot-on way say-alm-as sing-an"]

You get the idea. Here are some more words you might like to fill in the gaps with:

Uton we..... gan/gamolian/sacan - 'Let's go/grow old/fight' ["oot-on way gaan/ga-moh-lee-aan/sack-an"]

Speak like a Saxon #14: The rains came down...

2009-11-19T14:54:00.000-08:00

What with all the living in huts without double-glazing and damp-proof-courses, the Anglo-Saxons probably got quite wet quite a lot. But that's no reason to be down. Oh no. When the rains fall and the floods rise, know that they'll go away again sooner or later. Life is cyclical, and so proclaim this line (pilfered straight from the poem The Battle of Maldon) in defiance:

Se flod ut gewat! - 'The flood went away*!!! ["say flohd oooooot ye-waat"]

There.

* well, technically it's translated as 'the flood went out', but that doesn't sound as good.

Saxon Phrase of the Day #8: It's windy

2009-11-18T09:41:00.000-08:00

It’s been blowing a gale today: leaves flying everywhere; bits of tree falling off everywhere and poor little birds (and people) getting blown about by the wind. In fact, our word ‘windy’ comes straight from the Anglo-Saxons. Here’s a little ditty translated for the ears of the Old English speakers out there:

‘North-wind doth blow, and we shall have snow, and what will poor robin do then (poor thing)?’

Norðanwind bleow, and we habban snaw, and hwæt þonne do earm fugel (earm þing)?

[“North-an-wind blay-oh, and way hab-ban snaw, and hwat thon-nuh doh* (*as in “dough”) ay-arm foo-gel (ay-arm thing)”]

Saxon phrase of the day #7: energy

2009-11-17T02:29:00.000-08:00

Perhaps the Anglo-Saxons had it easier than we do now. Even if they didn't have solar panels or snazzy wind turbines, at least there were watermills and more wood-burning stoves than you could shake a stick at (or a log, for that matter).

'Our power is green. It comes from the mill' - Ure cræft is grene. Hit cumað of þæm myle ["oor-uh kraft is gray-nuh. Hit kum-ath off tham moo-le"]

Saxon phrase of the day #6: elevenses

2009-11-16T04:31:00.000-08:00

It's not quite time to delve into the cauldron of boiling mystery meat that Ethel's cooking for lunch, and breakfast was a long time ago. Your stomach rumbles like the thundering viking hordes. What to do? Biscuits!

'Give me the biscuit' - Gif me þone brædhlaf ["Yif may tho-nuh bred-hlaff"]

'Where is the biscuit tin?' - Hwær cwom brædhlafcæpse? ["Hwar kwom bred-hlaff-cap-suh?"]

Saxon phrase of the day # 5: birthdays!

2009-11-15T00:15:00.000-08:00

It's your friend's birthday today! Assuming some time had passed since the Synod of Whitby (where they argued for hours and hours about how to count days) and you were calculating the calendar the same as your friends across the road, you might know just the right day to wish them a happy birthday, saying something like this:

Gesælig gebyreddæg to þe ["yuh-sail-igh ye-bur-ed-day toe thee"]

(thanks to Ms Hilditch for this one - her 18th birthday I think was the first occasion on which this was used)

Saxon phrase of the day #4: man flu

2009-11-13T02:27:00.000-08:00

For as long as there have been men and women, there have been differences between men and women, including differences in how they cope... It's likely that even the Anglo-Saxon woman, thirteen children round her feet, spend a good deal of time mopping the brow of her disease-ridden husband:

'He has man-flu' - He hafað mannadle [hay haf-ath man-ad-luh]

Speak like a Saxon #13: Illness

2009-11-12T14:34:00.001-08:00

The Anglo-Saxon period, like many historical periods until now, was a pretty rubbish time to be ill. For a start, no-one really knew what was wrong with you, and if your local 'doctor' or 'leechman' had to guess, he'd probably say it was elves. To help you get better there'd be some herbs, some communion wafers, a bit of walking in circles, maybe some wool and quite a bit of mumbo jumbo.

Things the doctor might say to you:

'What is it?' - Hwæt? [hwat]

'Have you got water-elf disease?' – bist þu on wæterælfadle? [bisst thoo on wat-ter-elf-ad-luh?] (a real disease, apparently - check out Bald's Leechbook if you don't believe me)

‘Go to a maiden’ - ga to an mædenman [gaa toe ann maid-en-man] (she'd then sing something at you. This was also in the pukka Anglo-Saxon medical book)

‘Sing this many times...’ - Sing þis manegum siþum... [sing thiss man-ay-um see-thum]

Things you might say to the doctor:

'I am injured! stupid vikings!' - Ic hæbbe awierdnese!!Dysige wicingas! [Itch hab-buh a-wee-urd-nes-uh! Doo-siy-uh wee-king-as!]

‘I have a dwarf’ – Ic hæbbe dweorh [Itch hab-buh dway-orch] (also a real disease)

‘I am sick’ – Ic eom seoc(for a man)/seoce (for a woman) [Itch ay-om say-ok(uh)]

Saxon phrase of the day #3: manners

2009-11-10T08:27:00.001-08:00

In five minutes you have to meet the king/your in-laws/the bishop/the French emissary. It's not the moment to try out your new jokes or to be plagued with foot-in-mouth syndrome. This safe phrase will earn you brownie points and can be used in a whole variety of situations:

Wes þu [INSERT NAME HERE] hal - [Wess thoo (INSERT NAME HERE) haal]

It's roughly like drinking a toast to someone and saying "may you be healthy". Very polite, I'm sure.

(N.B. if you're saying it to more than one person, beware: grammar applies! More to follow later...)

Phrase of the day #2: some wisdom

2009-11-07T09:43:00.000-08:00

When terrorists attack (aka vikings) attack and the winter draws in; when the fragile economy crashes and it's all going wrong; remember this:

'This world is going quickly, and the end is nigh!!!!!!. (Panic!)' - ðeos worolde is on ofste & hit nealæcð þam ende ['Thay-oss wor-ol-duh is on off-ste and hit nay-a-lac-ath tham end-uh']

(this is what a famous Anglo-Saxon called Wulfstan wrote to his people in the early eleventh century).

Saxon phrase of the day #1: the price of things

2009-11-06T08:33:00.000-08:00

There wasn't time for a whole lesson today, so here's a quick phrase for the intrepid time-traveller.

Have you ever wondered how much things cost in the ninth-century? Well...

'Ox horn is worth ten pennies' - Oxan horn bið tien pæninga weorð [Ox-an horrn bith tee-en pen-ing-a way-orth]

There. Now you know.

(for other interesting facts, check out the Laws of Alfred and Ine: http://www8.georgetown.edu/departments/medieval/labyrinth/library/oe/texts/prose/laws.html#cap102)

Speak like a Saxon #12: Existential Angst

2009-10-12T13:23:00.000-07:00

Who am I? What on earth am I doing here? Is there a point? What is it? What’s over there? What if I just....? Our Anglo-Saxon ancestors were just as worried about their raison d’être as most graduates today. When someone asks ‘what do you do?’ does your heart sink down below your wool-clad knees into your leathery, festering boots? Here are some phrases that might help the conversation go a little better...

'I sit lamenting' - Ic reotugu sitte (for the ladies) / Ic reotig sitte (for the men) [Itch ray-oh-tuu-gu/ ray-oh-tig sit-tuh]

'I am looking for something' -Ic secce hwæthwugu [Itch sech-uh hwat-hwug-u]

'I can’t think of any reason in the whole world why I shouldn’t be miserable' -Ic geþencean ne mæg geond þas woruld for hwan modsefa min ne gesweorce [itch ye-thenk-i-an nay mayg ya-yond thas wor-uld for hwan mod-sef-a min nay ye-sway-orch-uh]

'The winehalls festered and decayed!!!' - woriað þa winsalo [worr-i-ath thaa win-sal-o]– (oh alas! those sceattas we all believed king Athelflathlnoth had hidden away were a lie! What to do? Our economy is ruined!)

In the end, of course, everything is pointless anyway. As one Anglo-Saxon said:

þis lif is læne [thiss lif iss laynuh] – 'this life is transitory' (as in, ‘eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you die’ and so on).

What’s more:

wyrd bið ful aræd [wuu*rd (*say this sound as an ‘i’ and pout at the same time. Just about works...) bith full a-rehd] – ‘fate is completely predetermined’ OR ‘s**t happens’*. It does indeed.

(* I am incredibly grateful to Dr R. Dance for this wonderfully concise translation).

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #11: Dating, tenth-century style

2009-04-26T07:33:00.000-07:00

Unless the cloistered life calls you to live out your days in the comfort of the nearest monastery/nunnery, you might be starting to think about finding that special someone to make your bread/hunt some viking for you. When you’ve got your ale-goggles* ready, here are some gems to get you started:

“With what hasty hands I would rush into your embraces and with what eager lips I would kiss not only your eyes, ears and mouth but indeed the individual joints of each digit of your hands or feet, not once but many times”

Quam citatis manibus ruerem in amplexus paternitatis uestrae, et quam compressis labris non solum oculos et os, sed etiam mannum uel pedum singulos digitorum articulos, non semel, sed multiores oscularer.

(Ok, so this is in Latin and not Old English, but a real-life Anglo-Saxon monk actually wrote this in a letter to his “friend”. It was too good to miss out.)

“Is that a sword in your pocket...?” = Is þæt an seax in þinum pohan...? (the seax, incidentally, is what gave the Saxons their name) [“iss that ann say-axe in theen-um po *ch* (like loch) –an”]

“Quick, it’s 999 and the world’s about to end...” = Hwæt, todæg is 999 (nigon hundrað, nigontig-nigon) ond þisse middangearde bið swiðe læne.
[“H-wat, tow-day iss nee-yon hun-drath, nee-yon-tee-nee-yon ond this-se mid-an-yay-ard bith swi-the lay-ne”]

“Your place or mine?” = þin stow oððe min? [“thin stow oth-thuh min”]

“Your lips are as red as the blood of a slaughtered sheep” = þine lippe sindon swa read swa þa blode deades sceapes. [“theen-uh lipp-e sin-don swaa ray-ed swaa tha blowd day-ad-es shay-ap-es”]

* always drink ale responsibly.

#10: Planning your holiday

2009-01-19T03:51:00.000-08:00

It’s the middle of winter and still pretty cold. You’re fed up with the ceaseless drizzle, mizzle and other assorted precipitation. You haven’t seen the sun for weeks on end, and you’ve finally polished off the last of the Christmas food. Time to spend a few happy hours contemplating your next summer getaway. Pilgrimage is probably a safe bet – travel with a purpose and free accommodation along the way. Not bad. Home or abroad, the choice is yours. A few phrases might come in handy in the ensuing discussions...

...but Æthelmod went to Rome in 962 - ...ac Æthelmod eode to Rome [‘ack Ath-el-mod ay-oh-duh toe Roh-muh’]

Norway isn’t safe right now – Norweg is deaðbærlic todæg [‘Nor-way is day-ath-bear-litch toh-day’]

We’ll take our own turnips – We bringað ure hamnæpas [‘way bring-ath oo-rruh haam-nap-as’]

...many barbarians in that place - manigfeald hæðene men in þam stowe [‘man-ny-fay-ald hay-then-uh men in tham stow-uh’]

(this is pretty much the same as Foreign Office advice not to travel...)

The boat leaves on Friday – Scip færð on Frigedæge [‘ship fair-th on Frree-yuh-day-uh’]

There are good relics at St Alban’s - Gode reliquias æt sancte Albane [‘Goh-duh rel-ick-wee-as at sang-tuh Albaan-uh’]

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #9: Winter

2009-01-06T04:14:00.000-08:00

So, it's the coldest day of the year and our boiler has broken, threatening to explode at any moment if we so much as mention the central heating. Consequently, it's freezing. It's about time, then, for some (rather enforced) historical reenactment...

...Huddling round the fire in the hut trying to keep out of the drafts; wrapped in layer upon layer of woolly cloaks, furry hoods and unidentified bits of animal skin...

Min nebb is ceald - My nose is cold ['Min nebb iss kay-ald']

Ond mine fet sindon ceald - And my feet are cold ['Ond mee-nuh fayt sin-don kay-ald']

þeos fyre is to lytel – This fire is too small [‘Thay-oss foo-re iss toe lit-el’]

Hwær cwom hatnes? – Where has the heat (or ‘hotness’) gone? [‘H-wahr kwom hat-ness?’]

Luce seo duru – Shut the door [‘Loo-ke say-oh duh-roo’]

or...

Astelle wudu in þone pytt – Put wood in’ hole (well, almost) [‘A-stell-uh wuh-doo in tho-nuh poot’]

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #8: Nativity Special

2008-12-23T10:57:00.000-08:00

Our friendly Anglo-Saxons were quite civilised, really. The Christmas story which we know so well was a popular one with our ancestors too - there are translations of it from Latin into Old English from really early on.

Thinking about staging a properly traditional Nativity Play? Some familiar bits:

Narrator: þa hine þa to Bethlem comon – Then they came to Bethlehem. [‘tha hee-nuh tha toe Beth-lem kom-on’]

Narrator: ond þa cende hio sunu – And then she gave birth to a son. [‘ond tha ken-de hee-o sun-oo’]

Narrator: ond hio mid claðum hine bewand ond on binne alegde – And she wrapped him with swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger (not a ‘bin’, although it sounds a lot like it!). [‘ond hee-o mid clath-um hee-nuh be-wand ond on bin-ne a-lay-de’]

Angels: Wuldor sie Gode on heanness ond sybbon eorðan þam mannum þe godes willan sien – Glory be to God in the highest and peace on earth to those men who are in God’s favour. [‘wool-door see God-e on hay-ah-ness ond sib-bon ay-orth-an tham man-um thay god-es will-an see-en’]

Props might be a bit of a difficult point. Fair enough, sheep are quite easy to get hold of and tea-towel substitutes wouldn't be too hard. Camels for the wise men might be tricky, though - for a start Anglo-Saxons were confused about what camels were. They weren't too sure of the difference between camels and elephants...

Speak Like an Anglo-Saxon #7: Entertainment

2008-12-04T13:05:00.000-08:00

No TV... but even worse, no internet. No Facebook. No Email. No BBC news website. No DVD-nights. No cinema. No Wii. No radio. No CDs. No Scrabble... The list goes on. But our Anglo-Saxon ancestors didn’t just sit round twiddling their thumbs all evening, whilst the wind (and other things) howled outside. Oh no. “In the good old days, we had to make our own amusements”... I bet you’ve heard that one before. Well, it’s true. Story-telling and music seem to have been pretty big back then. Not much has changed, then...the difference was that back then you didn’t just get to loaf around in front of Corrie listening to your iplayer. Instead you’d be listening to some geezer in your hut. Chances are you even knew him. Heck, that geezer might have to be you now and again. The stories and poems which survive are pretty impressive. They probably survive because they’re impressive. We don’t really know whether your average Anglo-Saxons sat in their hut of an evening telling each other bits of Beowulf as we know it today. There was probably quite a lot of harp-twanging and making-it-up going on. So, a few rules of thumb if you’re called on to do a party piece:

1) The world is generally a miserable place. Everybody dies eventually. Lots of people die sooner. Metal goes rusty and wood rots. How about a refrain along the lines of:

Eala! Nis þis lif lang – Alas! This life is not long.

2) The countryside is horrible. You might’ve had to camp out under a tree once. That was horrible. It was rainy and cold and miserable:

Ceald is se regnscur se fealleð on me – Cold is the rain-shower which falls on me

3) If you’re doing poetry, it all gets a lot more complicated. There were rules, man. Rules. You’ve got metre, alliteration and a load of other fancy things to think of. Might be better to cadge some lines from other poems, whack them together in a different order and hope no-one notices. So, some useful lines of poetry:

Hwær cwom mearg? Hwær cwom mago? Hwær cwom maþþumgyfa?– Where is the horse? Where is the friend? Where is the treasure-giver?

þa wearð afeallen þæs folces ealdor – Then the leader of the people was cut down (pretty bad if he’s paying your wages)

ða hine heowan hæðene scealcas – Then the heathen warriors cut him down (happened quite a lot)

Wulf is on iege, ic on oþerre – Wulf is on one island, I’m on another one (long distance just doesn’t work)

bengeato burston ðonne blod ætspranc – wound-gashes burst when blood gushed out (mm, nice and gory)

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #6: Eco Special

2008-10-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

I wonder what the Anglo-Saxons would have thought of our own lifestyles if they'd been able to time-travel forward... There's no doubt that a thousand years ago we English lived far more eco-friendly lives... no oil, no food miles (well, not counting the odd piece of imported Norwegian dried cod), local, sustainable produce, decentralised energy. The list goes on. To get by in the Anglo-Saxon economy you might need some of these:

Where has all the oil gone? = Hwær cwom ele?
[‘H-where cwom ey-le?’]

I use no oil = Ic bruce nan eles
[‘Itch brroo-ke nan ey-les’]

Now the watermill is turning = Nu seo myle bið wendende
[‘Noo sey-o mü-le bith wend-end-e’]

I make this cheese = Ic macie þas ciese
[‘Itch mak-i-e thas chee-eh-suh’]

Here are my chickens = Her sindon min cicen
[‘Hair sind-on min chicken’]

My home-turnips are better than these viking turnips = Mine hamnæpas beoð beteran þonne þas wicingan næpas
[‘Mee-ne haam-napas bey-oth better-an thon-ne thas wick-ing-an napas’]

Three chickens for your sheep = þrie cicen fore þine sceap
[‘Three-uh chicken for-e theen-e shee-ap’]

Can you mend my cloak? = Cannst þu minne bratt aseowan?
[‘Cannst thoo min-ne brrat a-say-o-wan?’]

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #5: Outside

2008-10-10T14:23:00.000-07:00

For our pre-Conquest ancestors there was no rosy, post-victorian romanticism of the natural world. Let's face it: it was nasty out there. Who knows what lurked in the darkness... But, should you find yourself traipsing about in the olde Englishe countryside, some of the following might come in handy:

Where has the path gone? = Hwær cwom pæð? ['H-where cwom path?']

This water is iron-hard. = þis wæter is swa heard swa isern. ['This wat-ter is swa hey-ard swa is-ern']

Do you see the tree? = Siehst þu þæt treow? ['See-ist thu that trey-ow?']

Yes, it moved. = Giese, þæt eode. ['Yee-esse, that ey-od-e']

Oh! Oh! A wolf! = Eala! Eala! An wulf! ['Ey-ala! Ey-ala! An wolf!']

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #4: At the dinner table

2008-10-02T14:34:00.000-07:00

Presuming you're still alive by tea-time and you've suitably ingratiated yourself with the locals, you may well find yourself comfortably reclining with your ancestors. The cauldron is boiling; delicious smells waft through the hut and out of the chimney hole. You eagerly wait on your bench for the culinary delights... It's time for your best Anglo-Saxon table manners:

Please pass ... = Gif me ... ['Yif me'] (literally 'give me' - bluntness probably wasn't a bad thing...)

... the knife = ...þone seax ['thoh-ne say-axe']
... the cheese = ...þone ciese ['thoh-ne chee-eh-suh']
... the bread = ...þone hlaf ['thoh-ne h-laff']
... the delicacy = ...þone swetmete ['thoh-ne sweht-may-te']

If things aren't going too well and the food is less palatable than you'd hoped, the following phrase might come in handy:

I need the bucket immediately = Ic hæbbe nyd for þam fæt. Sona. ['Itch habb-e nid* for tham fat. Soh-na']

* The sound of Old English 'y' is hard to explain. Some say it's like the French 'u'. Try saying an English short 'i' with pursed lips... That might work. Or you might just look silly.

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #3: Small talk

2008-09-22T08:40:00.000-07:00

So, you’ve managed to survive the first five minutes of life in ye olde England. What next? Try out some pukka small talk, straight from the pen of an Anglo-Saxon monk:

What do you do? = Hwelcne cræft canst þu? [‘H-welch-ne craft canst thu?’]
(literally ‘what craft do you know?’)

I am a monk = Ic eom munuc [‘Itch e-om mun-uc’]
I am a hunter = Ic eom hunta [‘Itch e-om hunt-a’]
I am a shepherd = Ic eom sceaphierde [‘Itch e-om she-ap-hee-urd-uh’]

I make cheese = Ic macie ciese [‘Itch mak-ee-uh chee-eh-suh’]

Oh dear, that is hard work = Eala, þæt is micel gedeorf [‘Ey-al-a, that iss mitch-el ye-day-orf’]

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #2

2008-09-21T01:15:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you were suddenly transported into an Anglo-Saxon hut? Could you make yourself understood? Or would Brit-Abroad syndrome strike, as you gesticulate wildly and speak as s-l-o-w-l-y as possible? Use these simple basics to stay alive in the murky tenth century.

My name is [Bob] = [Bob] is min nama. [‘Bob iss min nam-a’]

Hello, I am an Englishman/woman. = Hwæt,* Ic eom engliscman. [‘H-wat, itch e-om englishman']

I am not a Viking = Ic eom no wicing [‘Itch e-om no wi-king’]

I have no money/gold = Ic hæbbe nan goldes [‘Itch hab-be nan gold-es’]

Where is the toilet? = Hwær is gang? [‘H-wahr iss gang?’]

Next week: getting past the basics.

* Hwæt is your general attention-grabbing word in Old English and can mean pretty much anything between 'Oi, you over there' and 'what ho', 'indeed' and 'listen up'.

Speak like an Anglo-Saxon #1

2008-09-21T01:07:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered whether you could get by in tenth-century England, faced with those fearsome, fur-wearing Anglo-Saxons? Could you understand them? Could they understand you?

The first important lesson is that you actually know a lot already. Okay, so some things in English have changed – the Norman Conquest and the past millennium have a lot to answer for – but you’d be surprised how many Anglo-Saxonicisms have survived through the years despite generations of attempts to teach ‘proper’ grammar. How many times have you heard someone say ‘That was well bad/good/hard/another adjective’ and despaired at the failing standards of today’s English? ‘Surely you mean “that was very bad”?’ you think. Think again. A thousand years ago 'well', in the place of our 'very', was perfectly acceptable. A text of the late tenth century proudly states ‘The weather was well cold’ [sic].

The same is true of double negatives. In our mathematical, thinking, two negatives make a positive. Yet not so for the Anglo-Saxons - more you say ‘no’, the more you mean it. Like ‘there’s not nothing’ (Nis nænig) would mean ‘there’s not anything’ to your average pre-Conquest Englishman. Remind you of anything? What about the line from the Ghostbusters – ‘I ain’t afraid of no ghosts’? I distinctly remember having to sing alternative words in a primary school play – the far less catchy ‘I’m not afraid of any ghosts’ to satisfy grammatical mores. Little did the teachers realise that the original was completely legitimate use of Anglo-Saxon grammar.