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Norfolk Talk

Chapter G : Hearing Different

(Paras. 1 to 9)

2. Hope Springs :  3. Hum Sweet Hum
4. Double Shuffle :  5. Only The Lonely
  7. Won't Say :  8. Can't Say :  9. In The Dark

1 : Exceptions Rampant

I almost suffered premature apoplexy in my
(early) schooldays when (regularly) told that :
"The Exception proves the Rule".

Later, there was more than enough 'proving'
to be done on the infamous irregular verbs.
However, I don't recall the phrase "irregular nouns".

We shall have to spend quite some time
(and space herein) dealing with those very beasts.
Unsurprisingly, many will involve our favourite vowel.

N.B. This is not to say that our beloved County
(non-conformist though it is) has much more
irregularity than Standard English, with its stupid
gone, done, bone etc., as already highlighted.

2 : Hope Springs

We have observed (with hev and hin't) less
pre-disposition to drop aitches in rural speech.

This means you are more likely to hear hope complete
with its first letter and, therefore, its "mid-u" sound
(not much chance of confusion with up?).

In the City area, however, it is a firm double-o
(as if to "start" the word).

Remember the "hula-hoop" craze?. We had ula-upes too.
But it is oope which springs eternal(ly??).

It would not be too unfair to generalise that the
Norwich dialect takes the (alleged) "laziness",
of Norfolk speech, to new heights!.

A Norfolk greeting might well be "Halloo",
with an end-of-word double vowel.
This then equates to D'ye Ken John Peel.
In Norwich, however, it would be "Allow",
but not as in that actual word (wrong sound) -
try the sound of hallowed.

We have mentioned know for no, but only in the City
and only this Century.

3 : Hum Sweet Hum

October may well acquire a double-o in the middle,
where the emphasis falls; but I suspect that the
"mid-u" sound would be heard in deepest Norfolk,
as it is in November (first syllable unaccented).

The art of hoeing places its exponents in a quandary
(what's the e doeing there?); accordingly we have hoo,
on the one hand, but harn ( = howing) on the other.
[see sewing].

There's always some difficulty, which is a
good way of introducing always - which is ollust.
When you can find somebody to explain why,
please let me know.
In my opinion, the usual spelling allust can give
the wrong idea . . . the al- portion should be rendered
in the American way (they do it to all. . . anorl).

More surprising still is that the word, as often as not,
retains the new-found final letter (cf. great below).

We are not alone in being occard (awkward).

4 : Double Shuffle

Having persevered thus far, you must have the mettle
to tackle a vowel-shift of inter-galactic dimensions.

It may not be the only case,
but here we are referring to GREAT.
Its importance, again, is in direct proportion to
its popularity; which is whoolly great anorl.

    Shift 1 - already done for us :
          the E is totally ignored;

    Shift 2 - just as for grate, imposes the
          Viking shift to grairt.
          (or restores the E, if you prefer);

    Shift 3 - "squeezes" or "clips" the sound
          drastically, leaving the I rather than the A.

We seem to have arrived at the same word as grit.
Grit, however, is a humble substance; and so will
ollust lose its final letter. Not so with our
Grit Owl Waad.

Read the section on Tautology, by all means,
then forget it.

Something really big will be gri(t) big;
more likely grit (h)uge /(h)uge gri(t).
Huge is, of course, pronounced as ooj.

The t is retained too in grit owl(d) or grit ow'd;
i.e. depending on whether the following letter
is a vowel.

This is all just (jist) a ooj ploy to avoid using
the awkward word very (werra).

5 : Only The Lonely

Not forgetting the old and the poor . . .

Old should really (by the "rules") be ool
(the d long since lost, somewhere in the USA),
but tends towards owl -
not as in the bird, but as in the bird-bowl.

As previously hinted, the -d may sometimes return
(at the end of a sentence?). When it does, happily,
there is no conflict with owed, which = ewe.

Poor might have become pure (as in Scotland).
Luckily, it has become pore instead. This can help if
you are trying to close the door (to keep out the poor?)

We have seen that a soft-o can be quite unexpectedly
firmed-up, as in orff and orfen.

The latter case also loses one of the consonant-combination;
but, as it is a mere t, there is zero surprise!

The word only, only(!) 4 letters,
is chock-full of surprises:-

    (a) It loses the n from the combination
         (compare after; often);

    (b) It has a [weakened] "mid-u" sound,
         despite the commencing o (broken rule);

    (c) It is an -ly word which is commonly used
         (to be fair, not a typical adverb).

This underlines the importance of sounding the h
at the beginning of (w)hoolly/(w)hooly; although,
for reasons of emphasis, this probably happens anyway.

Now we have the terrible twins : (w)hoolly and oolly.
Be sure to tell them apart!

Yure go(t) three, whereby Our oolly go(t) a couple.
Pore owl me!. Oi'm feelin all aloon.

(not lonely; and with the "mid-u" sound).

Ple(tt)y is another word which loses its 'n'
- plenty of people know that.

 

6 : DON'T Say...

Superficially, don't and won't are two,
almost identical, mono-syllabic words.
As such, the single-o sound should (always)
become a "mid-u" in Norfolk.
It does too (more often than not);
but there is more to things than that . . .

To begin with, each is (as we know) a pair of words :
not prefixed by do or will.

This revelation would permit don't to carry
the double-o sound doon(t); which is indeed
taken (mainly in present-day Norwich) as a viable option.

But commonsense says "due" becomes
"due not", thence "dewn't".

It is left, as an archaeological exercise, to the Reader :
to determine if the letter o was substituted "backwards"
(i.e. because posh-speech prefers an o to sound like ew).

Another problem with the word don't is the letter n.
As in the previous paragraph's examples,
it may get omitted - esp. in Norwich.

    E do do that, dor(nt) E?
    ^Top^

7 : Won't Say

No such questions with won't, which is
an artificial word (like ain't).

Norfolk speech acknowledges that fact - and has
NO alternatives to the "mid-u" sound, even when
emphasis is needed :- Noo, tha(t) Oi (w)un(t)!!

N.B. The leading-w is very seldom evident
(oon't and ain't thus getting closer !),
so as to avoid confusion with wasn't.
(See Chapter C : The Soft A).

Only one way with won't, then;
but a total of three options for don't !

Presumably for the said reasons of emphasis,
the version dorn(t) is very commonly used :-

    Oi dun(t) know whoi, tha(t) Oi dorn(t) . . .
This seems to have nothing in common with gorn
(double-o modified by the following i ).

Conversely, there may be avoidance strategy at work.
Consider how worn't would relate to want,
with the lengthened vowel-sound of the latter?.

8 : Can't Say

    Oi rarely car(t) say . . .
Ample evidence has been given for Mardle's
assertion that - "we swallow our consonants
and do strange things to our vowels"
.
We (Norfolk) are, once again, not alone :
have you heard a Cockney attempt to say bottle,
using only the first two letters?!

In Standard English the word would has its second
vowel changed and (Cockney-like) its l omitted.
The result, as we know, is just the same as wood.
This (in its negative form) presents a further difficulty
for the Norfolk tongue, which already has trouble with
wasn't and won't.  Now all three items collide **

This reinforces the perceived need for won't
to lose its first letter; there being little hope of
distinguishing between the other two :-

1. Oi woon(t) do tha(t) if Oi wooz you!
2. Tha(t) woon(t) a werra good oidare, wooz-a?

Rurally, you may hear the second with a rather
softer o-sound; but this, in turn, tends to conflict
with want (the 's' having been swallowed) -
a word greatly needed in Norfolk!

** Our final Chapter M attempts to summarise
     the confusing situation.

In 5. above we have witnessed the neglect of n;
which partly, and nefariously, comes to the rescue :
in the event that the combination want to occurs
(i.e. very often) : Oi wo(tt)a gi(t) one-a them!

The potential conflict with what are
or what have has been resolved:-

    You wo(tt)a gi(t) some woo(t)-a cheaper, instid.
    Some onnem woo(t)-a go(t) brook wo(tt)a be replairced.
There is a tendency, outside Norwich, to drop
BOTH t's in the phrase "wouldn't it?"
(Norwich : woont-a).
Using an unbelievable duplication of the shunned letter,
the example of native perversity is a fine one:-
    Tha(t)-d be good, woon(t)n(t)?
    ^Top^

9 : In The Dark

When it is getting dark, it is shuttin'-up-toime
in Norfolk.
It's a great pity so few (only Georgian?)
houses still have wooden shutters . . .

Of course, as Winter approaches, this sad juncture
occurs ever sooner; or, as we say,
tha(t) gi(t) lair(t) aarlier.
[another good example of a Norfolk oxymoron].

Artificial light, until comparatively recent times,
meant candles. A wick is a key component of your
average candle; which may explain why tiresome
people gi(t) onya wick, instead of nerves. [1]
A long wick, on a burning candle, can be wasteful;
and is called snaste.

Such flames can often attract morths, and the
mingins (gnats, midges) so prevalent at dusk.

After dark you may wish to hank-up the door,
using the snack [2].
You may also be less inclined to go off
on your travels i.e. goo strammackin'.
However, the cat might start scrabbin' or scrorpin'
[scratching] at the door - to get out!. See Story F

[1] In my family, that behaviour might
      gi(t) onya chimes.
[2] This is instead of latch; but is more onomatapoeic!.


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