by
Harriet Powney in The Guardian, 19th July 2013
Familects – home dialects in which words are given private meanings –
reveal that everyone has a creative and playful linguistic story
Hearing a couple I know ask each other to pass
the "splinkers" – their word for sweeteners – reminded me of the
English Project's collection of family slang, Kitchen
Table Lingo, the blurb of which asks: "Does it sometimes seem like
your family speaks its own language? Whether it's a slip of
the tongue that becomes a permanent part of the family vernacular or a word
invented when all others fail, Kitchen Table Lingo is part of what makes our
language so rich and creative. After all, what other language has 57 words for
the TV remote control?"
David Crystal, who wrote the book's afterword,
expanded on what he described as these dialects of the home, or familects, in
his blog: "The book has collected a fascinating group of the
private and personal word-creations that are found in every household and in
every social group, but which never get into the dictionary ... Everyone has
been a word-coiner at some time or other – if not around the kitchen table,
then in the garden, bedroom, office, or pub. The words in this book are the tip
of an unexplored linguistic iceberg."
If, as is often suggested, the use of jargon
confirms its speakers' insider status, I suspect family words serve a similar
function. Unlike jargon, however, family words are usually playful, creating
both a sense of belonging and somewhere to let your hair down. Although that
doesn't mean serious territorial issues aren't at stake. A friend reported how
his girlfriend's use of his best friend's nickname for him, in front of the friend,
was met with a chilly silence broken only by the rustle of passing tumbleweed.
Although family words are often funny, they're
also shorthand for moments from a shared past and as such carry an emotional
resonance. In another friend's house "Geoffrey's" means it's time to
get ready for dinner. It's a long story that I won't recount, but it's known to
most branches of his wife's family and helps keep alive the memory of an uncle
who's no longer with them. Indeed, relationships often involve learning each
other's family shorthand and creating a new, joint one. I still remember the
jolt I felt, after a long relationship ended, when I went to use one of
"our" words to someone new but realised it had been emptied of
meaning.
In a process known as relexicalisation, kitchen
table lingo generally uses the same grammar as English but a different vocabulary,
the creation of which falls into clear categories. Children's coinings are one
of the most popular – a friend's family still use "foo foos" (her
brother's word for shoes) and everyone in my family understands
"bontoo" (my brother's word for broken). Other categories include malapropisms or
mispronunciations ("desecrated coconut", "Neolopitan
ice-cream") or particularly boring objects, which brings us back to those
57 words for the remote control ("hoofa doofa", "doojie" or
"pogger" are just three). Then there are things that are difficult to
define or lack a word. I can't imagine how I managed before I adopted a
friend's "poggle" (a verb or a noun) for any remnants of lunch that
remain stuck to your jumper.
When I asked friends for examples for this post,
I was impressed by how many they came up with and loved hearing the stories behind
them. If, for David Crystal, familects confirm his belief that everyone has a
linguistic story to tell, then they also illustrate how playful, creative and
emotional that linguistic story, and our relationship with language, can be.
