Homeless lady learns a new word

[Ned, the serial killer] went down like a board, as stiff as a 2-by-10. [Pearl, the homeless lady] landed in the middle of his back.

I glanced at Pearl’s face, which was a mask of bruises. One eye was black, one tooth was missing, and a cut at the corner of her mouth oozed blood. She’d positioned herself in the middle of Ned’s back, and the gravity was sufficient to hinder the rise and fall of his chest.

She said, “Sh–. I think I broke my hip again, but right now I’m numb and it doesn’t feel like nothing.”

She bounced a couple of times and I heard an oof of air escape Ned’s lungs. She bounced again, though she winced as she did so. “What’s this here? What I’m doing. You’re a smart girl. I bet you know.”

“As a matter of fact I do. It’s called ‘compressive asphyxia,’ which is mechanically limiting expansion of the lungs by compressing the torso, hence interfering with breathing.”

“Hence. I like that. I’m setting here bouncing on Ned, hence making it impossible for him to draw breath. That’s what he did to them little girls, isn’t it?”

“That was his method of choice.”

Y is for Yesterday, by Sue Grafton, p. 487

Best Rhyme of the Summer

There’s just some things that leave a man no choice

Like a compass needle needin’ its true No-o-orth

some country song

I didn’t know that choice rhymed with North, did you?

But they do! Once you have heard them in this song, you cannot deny that they do!

And those words will rhyme for you forever after.

This is my favorite kind of rhyme — unexpected, gutsy even, but once you hear it, it clicks into place and feels so natural.

Here’s my professional, I-used-to-be-a-linguist analysis of why choice and North do, in fact, rhyme.

Both have an /o/ followed by a sound that narrows the vocal cavity but doesn’t stop the air (/i/ or /r/, which is a liquid), followed by a voiceless fricative articulated near the front of the mouth (/s/, or theta).

In case you are wondering, the country song in question is Love You Anyway by Luke Combs, which is in the subgenre of Self-Pity (Male Singer).

Time for some Poetry!

Last week, I had the pleasure of reading, and discussing with a class of children, The Lake Isle of Innisfree by William Butler Yeats.

Now, Yeats was such a prolific playwright and poet, and he had such a complicated — not to say convoluted — personal philosophy, that in my university days I actually took an entire class just about Yeats. And I didn’t become an expert, either. Taking a class just sort of orients you to the man. Anyway, perhaps I was a bad student, but I don’t recall reading this particular poem.

Yeats was almost a terrorist, but it turns out, he could write an evocative poem about the beauty of nature with the best of them. (Actually, there might be quite a few terrorists who could do that.)

I’m going to analyze the poem first, and then post it down below, so you can see the different elements coming and marvel at Yeats’ mastery of the language. But if you like your poetry straight, no appetizer, feel free to scroll down and read it first.

I could say a lot about finding peace in nature, and how far that’s a valid concept and what its limitations are, but I won’t. The impulse is universal enough that elementary school students can understand it. I’m sure you’ve felt it, and I’m sure you’ve had your own thoughts about it too. What I want to discuss is the masterful way that Yeats slows the reader down.

The most obvious way is his use of three stressed syllables at the end of a line. The first stanza ends with the words “bee loud glade,” and there is no way to read this except slowly and with emphasis. This is also true of the last three words of the poem, which will echo in the reader’s mind: “deep heart’s core.”

Secondly, Yeats makes you repeat yourself a lot. “I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree.” Repeating the verb, and chaining it on to more detail, prevents the reader from hurrying the line, and it gives the impression that the speaker is rather relaxed. (Relaxed would not have been the first word I’d say, if you had said to me, “Yeats.”)

Finally — and I know this may sound a little strange — this poem has a lot of l’s. Glade, glimmer, linnet, slow, clay and wattles, lake water lapping, shall, will, while, always … the list goes on. L is not the easiest sound to say, as consonants go. You have to put your tongue on the roof of your mouth and leave it there for a moment, allowing the air to flow around it … much like water around an obstruction in a lake. Because [l] is voiced, it gives a warm, rich, liquid rather than an airy feeling. In fact, [l] is classified as a liquid, a consonant in which the air flow is not completely obstructed. As you read this poem that keeps forcing you to slow down a bit and to practice your l’s, you can almost feel the peace dropping over you.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:

Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear the lake water lapping with the low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

William Bulter Yeats

I’m a D— Fine Latin Teacher!

This is from an old Doonesbury comic by Gary Trudeau. My dad used to be a big Trudeau fan and had a large collection of his books. I devoured them as a kid, which I didn’t realize was giving me a very leftie view of modern American history. But it’s funny little human moments like the one above that make Trudeau (at least his older work) so appealing.

Interestingly, “Herbert” looks a bit like one of my Linguistics professors in college, except for the cigarette.

And now … I actually am a Latin teacher. And d— fine one.

I’d be snapped up in a minute.

Another Translated Christmas Song

The Indonesian Song

S’lamat, s’lamat datang, Yesus Tuhanku!

Jahu dari surga tinggi kunjunganmu.

S’lamat datang Tuhanku ke dalam dunia.

Damai yang Kau bawa tiada taranya.

Salam, salam!

Now, let’s give a literal translation

“Welcome, welcome, Jesus my Lord.” (Selamat datang means “welcome.” Selamat is like “congratulations” and datang is “come.” This song repeats the selamat, which is like saying, “very welcome.”)

“Far from heaven [on] high [was] your visit.”

“Welcome, my Lord, into the world.”

“[The] peace that You bring there-is-no comparison.”

“Greetings, greetings!”

And now, let’s make it rhyme

You are very welcome, Jesus Lord most high!

You came from such a distance to hear our cry.

Welcome, welcome, O my lord into this world of woe.

The peace that you have brought us is more than we can know.

Welcome, welcome!