Occupational Hazards

In conversation recently with a musician friend it suddenly dawned on me that because he is so knowledgeable about music, musicality and musicianship it is virtually impossible for him to enjoy a concert or recital in the same way that I, as an ignorant layperson, can. Anyone with extensive knowledge of a particular subject is at risk of being unable to enjoy a work of art or manufactured item if it falls within the sphere of his or her expertise. The application of rigorous professional standards as the yardstick by which enjoyment is reaped is bound to end in disappointment.

And so, a house-painter who is paying a social visit cannot help casting an appraising eye around his host’s house and drawing conclusions about the professionalism, or lack thereof, of the work. Presumably carpenters, bridge engineers, architects, gardeners and many others would find themselves in a similar situation. That’s tough.

I have noticed that this applies to myself, too, whenever I read a book or text in English. Having spent many years as a translator/editor, it is impossible for me to read a book without mentally correcting, editing or proofreading it. This generally tends to mean that I make a mental note of the fiasco but that is more or less where it ends, and I continue reading though with a more critical eye. This in fact happened recently, when someone gave me a copy of his recently published book. As I read the text, which was generally well-written, I noticed one or two slight grammatical errors or typographical flaws which marred the flow of the narrative for me.

I took up a pencil and began marking in the margin the points which I felt needed to be corrected, and when I had finished I summoned up my courage and showed the book to the author. Contrary to my expectations, he welcomed my remarks and at a later meeting informed me that he had incorporated most of them, in the next edition of his book.

One of the occupational hazards of having spent most of my working life dealing with both Hebrew and English means that I have a special sensitivity to language, whether written or spoken. Thus, in recent times I have come to abhor certain ‘slang’ expressions in both languages, such as ‘I was sat’ in English and ‘zotti’ (instead of ‘zot’) in Hebrew. Once upon a time this kind of terminology was reserved for cheeky teenagers or persons with minimal education, but nowadays it is widely used by all and sundry, including journalists, academics and members of the professions. I still feel physical unease when I hear them, but they are used so abundantly that I am afraid I will soon find myself accepting them as part of normal speech. And don’t get me started on people who say ‘Best regards from John and I.’ Would they say ‘regards from I’? Is it just ignorance, or has the English language abandoned every vestige of correct grammar? Another annoying habit of Hebrew speakers is to omit the ‘h’ sound in words. Here, too, it seems to be endemic throughout all social levels, and in my view it puts Hebrew speakers on a par with native Londoners, also known as Cockneys, whose level of education generally tends to be minimal.

Another strange usage is the substitution of ‘mum’ for mother. I have heard Prince Harry refer to his late mother, the much-mourned Princess Diana, as ‘my mum,’ which I take to express a son’s affection for his departed parent. Or perhaps it reflects his attempt to show that he is ‘just like everyone else,’ and ‘a man of the people.’ Be that as it may, imagine my recent shock when I read in the Acknowledgements section of a serious history book about women rulers of Jerusalem during the time of the Crusades, after references about help received from various academic persons, “…and my mum read the manuscript countless times.” That is the first time I have come across this term in a context of this kind. But that might have something to do with the familiar tone the writer uses elsewhere in this section, where she also writes “X has been brilliant in corralling me to get the manuscript (ready).” According to my understanding of the significance of the word ‘brilliant’ this does not quite fit the bill, but it seems that contemporary British usage of the word has extended its meaning considerably.

I acknowledge the fact that languages change over time, and since I have not been living in England, the land of my birth, for many years, this inevitably means that, despite my best efforts, I have not kept up with all the shifts and changes of the English language in the last fifty years. Nevertheless, I’m still having a hard time coming to terms with the limitations that my education in England some sixty years ago seem to have imposed on me.

Occupational Hazards

In conversation recently with a musician friend it suddenly dawned on me that because he is so knowledgeable about music, musicality and musicianship it is virtually impossible for him to enjoy a concert or recital in the same way that I, as an ignorant layperson, can. Anyone with extensive knowledge of a particular subject is at risk of being unable to enjoy a work of art or manufactured item if it falls within the sphere of his or her expertise. The application of rigorous professional standards as the yardstick by which enjoyment is reaped is bound to end in disappointment.

And so, a house-painter who is paying a social visit cannot help casting an appraising eye around his host’s house and drawing conclusions about the professionalism, or lack thereof, of the work. Presumably carpenters, bridge engineers, architects, gardeners and many others would find themselves in a similar situation. That’s tough.

I have noticed that this applies to myself, too, whenever I read a book or text in English. Having spent many years as a translator/editor, it is impossible for me to read a book without mentally correcting, editing or proofreading it. This generally tends to mean that I make a mental note of the fiasco but that is more or less where it ends, and I continue reading though with a more critical eye. This in fact happened recently, when someone gave me a copy of his recently published book. As I read the text, which was generally well-written, I noticed one or two slight grammatical errors or typographical flaws which marred the flow of the narrative for me.

I took up a pencil and began marking in the margin the points which I felt needed to be corrected, and when I had finished I summoned up my courage and showed the book to the author. Contrary to my expectations, he welcomed my remarks and at a later meeting informed me that he had incorporated most of them, in the next edition of his book.

One of the occupational hazards of having spent most of my working life dealing with both Hebrew and English means that I have a special sensitivity to language, whether written or spoken. Thus, in recent times I have come to abhor certain ‘slang’ expressions in both languages, such as ‘I was sat’ in English and ‘zotti’ (instead of ‘zot’) in Hebrew. Once upon a time this kind of terminology was reserved for cheeky teenagers or persons with minimal education, but nowadays it is widely used by all and sundry, including journalists, academics and members of the professions. I still feel physical unease when I hear them, but they are used so abundantly that I am afraid I will soon find myself accepting them as part of normal speech. And don’t get me started on people who say ‘Best regards from John and I.’ Would they say ‘regards from I’? Is it just ignorance, or has the English language abandoned every vestige of correct grammar? Another annoying habit of Hebrew speakers is to omit the ‘h’ sound in words. Here, too, it seems to be endemic throughout all social levels, and in my view it puts Hebrew speakers on a par with native Londoners, also known as Cockneys, whose level of education generally tends to be minimal.

Another strange usage is the substitution of ‘mum’ for mother. I have heard Prince Harry refer to his late mother, the much-mourned Princess Diana, as ‘my mum,’ which I take to express a son’s affection for his departed parent. Or perhaps it reflects his attempt to show that he is ‘just like everyone else,’ and ‘a man of the people.’ Be that as it may, imagine my recent shock when I read in the Acknowledgements section of a serious history book about women rulers of Jerusalem during the time of the Crusades, after references about help received from various academic persons, “…and my mum read the manuscript countless times.” That is the first time I have come across this term in a context of this kind. But that might have something to do with the familiar tone the writer uses elsewhere in this section, where she also writes “X has been brilliant in corralling me to get the manuscript (ready).” According to my understanding of the significance of the word ‘brilliant’ this does not quite fit the bill, but it seems that contemporary British usage of the word has extended its meaning considerably.

I acknowledge the fact that languages change over time, and since I have not been living in England, the land of my birth, for many years, this inevitably means that, despite my best efforts, I have not kept up with all the shifts and changes of the English language in the last fifty years. Nevertheless, I’m still having a hard time coming to terms with the limitations that my education in England some sixty years ago seem to have imposed on me.