“To come upon, discover, find.” This is what the rhetorician signifies by the word ‘invent.’ And such is the sense of invention that Lerer uses when he spins insightful narratives on the history and development of the English language. But English can also be approached, not just as some well-defined object waiting to be found, but rather as a variable and pliant instrument for discovering our own, personal language of experience. From Lerer’s introduction:
“All of us find or invent our language. We may come up with new sentences never heard before. We may use words in a unique way. But we are always finding our voice, locating old patterns or long-heard expressions, reaching into our thesaurus for the right term. And in inventing English, we are always inventing ourselves—finding our place among the welter of the words or in the swell of sounds that is the ocean of our tongue.”
While certainly true, this quotation nevertheless elides a fact which Lerer himself will return to throughout Inventing English—that English oftentimes stands between people. While English can be a unifying standard, it can also be a theatre where social and epistemological differences are played out. Seen this way, the vocalizing of any given language, or variant of a language, can be interpreted as a political act. And so there might be no meaningful recounting of the history of English without some perceptive understanding of how speech and writing, both of the powerful and of the powerless, constitute moments of political agency.
It seems Chaucer knew this. He could see how his English was strewn with the sounds and concepts extracted from a host of sources. Church Latin, common Anglo-Saxon, Viking Danish, and aristocratic French all had a profound impact on the English of Chaucer’s day. From his perch in London, Chaucer espied dialects of English from all over medieval England. He made use of specific dialects to reflect the nature or origin of the characters he would go on to create. As Lerer says, “Chaucer evokes the high style of the Francophile court, the coarseness of the commoner, the Latinism of the scholar—and everything in between.”
In the history of any language, and English provides no exception, a word is sometimes borrowed from another language even though an equivalent word with the same sense is already in use. Doublets are formed in this way, an example of which is ‘will(Saxon) and testament(French)’. Scholars have known for a long time that there can be a difference in prestige favoring one half of the doublet. Consider the doublets for animals on the medieval estate. The English peasant knew all about the cow, sow, sheep, calf, and deer, yet the carnivorous francophone aristocrats who dominated the estate only knew of the animals as food: beef (French for cow), pork (French for sow), mutton (sheep), veal (calf), and venison (deer). In time, the French terms for the farm animals would become specialized as English terms for the food coming from that animal. Lerer says this example is an over-simplification, but i can think of no better way to make apparent how social stratification can be written into language itself.
English has undergone quite a few significant changes in its historical development. In Chaucer’s day, and even much earlier, there were two sets of forms for the second person pronoun: thou, thy, thine, and thee were used in the singular as informal/intimate forms, whereas the old plural forms you, your, and ye were more formal and came to be used to address a single individual, politely. This is not unlike French ‘tu’/‘vous’ or Spanish ‘tu’/‘usted.’ In his Canterbury Tales, Chaucer used the English pronominal system to map relative levels of prestige and respect. These forms were still in use in Shakespeare’s day. The ‘you’ form ultimately won out, of course, and now contrasts with the reinvented plurals “y’all” and ‘youz guys.’
Lerer culls through the archives of English literature to illustrate how these and other dramatic changes transpired in our language’s history. There was an interesting relationship between the English spoken in medieval times north of the Humber river and the Londoners’ English destined to become one of the standards of today. On account of this contact, ‘hem’ became ‘them,’ regular verb forms like ‘goeth’ and 'drinketh’ became ‘goes’ and 'drinks,’ while the irregular verb ‘be’ became even more irregular with the introduction of the ‘is’ and ‘are’ forms. It seems implausible that Northumbrian English would be so influential on the language of London and throughout the realm. But that is what seems to have happened, perhaps on account of relative prestige, but more likely through linguistic behaviors adopted as part of a fad or fashion.
Perhaps the greatest permutation of English during its long written career would be the great vowel shift. If you read today’s English while pronouncing the vowels as if they were Italian, you’d have a bit of the sense of what Chaucer’s English sounded like. I will not go into the mechanics of it, but imagine vowels being represented in an analogical space depicting tongue position. The movement of certain vowels engenders the movement of other vowels which are now pushed from their customary space, the process repeating in a sort of chain reaction. Why? As Lerer states: ‘the sounds of English may have changed in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries as part of a larger, social process of replacing a lost prestige language [Norman French] with a prestige dialect—a dialect not keyed to region but to social class, to education, and to wealth.’ Vowels in English are more variable than consonants. Think about an Australian or a Scottish accent; the consonants are the same, but the vowels all sound weird to speakers of another dialect of English.
To this day, accents are still being formed. Labov et al, in “One Hundred Years of Sound Change in Philadelphia”, made use of the latest in speech recognition technology (and lots of statistics and charts) to map precisely the vowel space of individual Philadelphians, even of speakers long dead whose speech had been recorded for posterity. It seems that, potentially, there are minute vowel shifts going on all around us. These small gradations of sound are not easily perceptible to the naked ear, but longitudinal study confirms the fact that sound change is omnipresent, even when it does not have the dramatic consequences of the great vowel shift. Labov and company determined that these changes have been the product of speakers bending their speech away from what Philadelphians often see as stigmatized accents, the ones bearing the sounds of New York City and of the American South. As noted by Lerer, sociolinguists like Labov enrich historiography by bringing to the fore how people with slightly different languages have understood, or misunderstood, each another over the course of time.
Some of the most supple thinking to take place in English manifested itself in the writings of the renaissance, a time which we now know to have been one of sociolinguistic upheaval. While the great vowel shift “made the language of the age of Chaucer largely opaque by the time of Shakespeare,” it was Shakespeare himself who generated a great deal of opacity for the modern reader. Lerer attributes to Shakespeare the coining of 6,000 new words. I can’t see how this could be true. Shakespeare might have been the first to use these words in a written text, or the first we know of to do so. But thespians being thespians, I am sure Shakespeare was immersed in a universe of creative talkers. Saying that one person single handedly invented a hefty chunk of the English language seems a bit fantastic. Be that as it may, the renaissance in England was probably the best of times for those who thrived on linguistic anarchy.
Out of this anarchy, there stormed a desire to standardize and so to control English. Caxton operated his printing and publishing business from Westminster, where the Chancery charged him with printing and publishing the laws and precedents of the court in an English that all could understand. And so not only spelling, but also grammar and vocabulary, became centrally regulated by the English government administration. Shortly afterwords, a movement called Orthoepy emerged. Orthoepists postulated a necessary connection between correct pronunciation/grammar and moral worth/character. They were reformers who sought to correct society’s ills by forcing all to speak properly, following a strict standard. While the orthoepists were among the first to analyze systematically how speech sounds are produced, they were seriously flawed in their linguistics otherwise. For example, they maintained that the meaning of a word is a product of the meanings of that word’s individual sounds. But the different meanings of ‘cat’ and ‘rat’ is not a function of what ‘c’ means versus what ‘r’ means. Pronunciation of sounds serves to distinguish words from each other, but meaning does not reside in the individual sounds themselves.
Linguists during the Enlightenment were often lexicographers. By writing dictionaries, Samuel Johnson in England and Noah Webster in the United States made their mark on how English was to be conceptualized by the everyday users of the language. For their long historical understanding of English, they were rewarded with profound insights into the nature of language change. Interestingly, both Johnson and Webster appear to have come to the same conclusion: language is continuously changing and cannot do otherwise. Johnson saw language as being under the domination of the moon, in other words, as both mutable and transitory. The American Webster believed likewise that holding back the progress of language is like holding back the Mississippi river, “the motion of which, at times, is scarcely perceptible; yet even then it possess a momentum quite irresistible. Words and expressions will be forced into use in spite of all the exertions of all the writers of the world.”
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. That seems to have been the motto for nineteenth century American writers of dialect like Mark Twain. As Lerer puts it, “the study of American dialects became, in part, a celebration of American identity and the fuel for a distinctively American philology.” While many writers experimented with ‘dialect,’ none were as successful as Twain. Instead of offering apologies for the deviant nature of their talk, American authors like Twain turned the tables on their critics by making use of the wealth of folksy forms found out in the real world.
African American English presents another facet of America’s dialect wealth. Some black Americans, like Frederick Douglass and Martin Luther King, made use of the high style of traditionally white rhetoric in order to share their astute acumen and moving experiences with a largely white audience and readership. Other writers of color have found greater rhetorical power in their own range of dialects. Lerer makes it clear that there is no single, unified standard of black English vocabulary, syntax, or pronunciation. But that has not stopped black folks from having a solid impact on English. By way of slavery, words from west African Wolof found their way into the informal vocabulary of English speakers practically everywhere. ‘Hip’ comes from a Wolof word for “to open one’s eyes, to become aware of what is going on.” ‘Cat’ comes from a Wolof person marker. ‘Dig’ comes from a root in Wolof meaning “to understand, to appreciate.” Significantly, these borrowings from Wolof are not symptoms of cognitive decay or social insouciance. Rather, they are indices of how a language like English can become invented or revived by way of contact with the most unlikely of sources. Linguistic innovations, including slang, form part of the ongoing history and development of the English language. Through cloud-tethering technology and the language space of social media, innumerable speakers (or those posting texts) have also had a far-reaching impact on their language.
Lerer closes his literary history of the English language by inspecting how biblical translation provides clues to our understanding of linguistic conservatism. The King James bible translation, for example, drew on words for rhetorical effect which in the seventeenth century already sounded archaic. Hence, obsolete forms like ‘brethren’ or ‘confound’ were used in place of the more popular and newer words ‘brothers’ and ‘confuse.’ Such words as ‘brethren’ become borrowings from the past and so formed doublets. The King James translators also made a point to import much of the syntax of biblical Hebrew. Such choices made the translation less transparent, but they also gave the English words a ring of old-time authority or an aura of mysterious power.
Overall, I found Lerer’s Inventing English to be a wonderful endeavor. Not only does it place contemporary debates about the decay of English in their proper historical perspective, it also serves as a wonderful work of social and political theory. I have skipped over some of Lerer’s prime movers in the history of English, most notably Milton, Orwell, Priestley, Wulfstan, and the Oxford English Dictionary. But I hope to have conveyed Lerer’s main point, that English has a dynamic history, one which emerges, resurrected from the dead page, as a living legacy, bridging the gap between our rich cultural heritage and whatever worlds we might come upon in the future.
To offer a criticism of sorts, I feel that Lerer’s history of English is discernibly one-sided at times. Although we learn a bit about how scientific discoveries together with colonial misadventures have been compounding the legacy of English with new words for new ideas, we hear very little from Lerer of how English can be “invasive” instead of inventive. All over the world, languages are perishing, never to be recovered, and English is often at the forefront of these language shifts and language deaths. We should not denigrate historians of English like Lerer who guide the reader through all the triumphs and traumas experienced by speakers of English. But it is of no use to disregard the social and cognitive trauma caused to speakers who feel compelled to turn their backs on their own linguistic heritage in order to reinvent themselves as participants in the power of English. But to anyone even mildly curious about how English has evolved and grown through the ages, you can’t go wrong with the discoveries to be found in Seth Lerer’s Inventing English.