Jessica Mitford and a star-spangled language

Jessica Mitford in 1937

My partner has just been reading Jessica Mitford’s autobiography Hons and Rebels (1960). One of the  Mitford Sisters—aristocrats of extraordinary talent and notoreity—Jessica was a civil-rights activist known, among other things, for her sardonic observations about variation in the English language. Her sister Nancy was the originator of the term ‘U and non-U English‘, shorthand for ‘upperclass and non-upperclass’, a distinction which Jessica transposed to the realm of politics as ‘L and non-L English’ (left and non-left). The Mitfords lived in an era of political extremes, a time when the way you spoke was just one among many social divisions: Jessica was to become a committed communist, while her sisters Diana and Unity were unapologetic fascists.

In 1939, Jessica and her husband emigrated to the United States, and in her memoirs she recalls an impromptu lesson in crosscultural communication, delivered by their friend. It’s a delightful passage, as much for the obsolete distinctions between U.S. and British Englishes, as for what has remained unchanged:

Peter Nevile was the only person we knew who had actually been to America; and Esmond, with his usual thoroughness in such matters, enlisted Peter’s help in briefing us on the language, manners and customs we should encounter in the Land of Opportunity. We spent an evening at his house being initiated.

“Never say, ‘I say!’ Say, ‘Say,’” Peter explained patiently. “Things on the whole move much faster in America; people don’t stand for election, they run for office. If a person says he’s sick, it doesn’t mean regurgitating; it means ill. Mad means angry, not insane. Don’t ask for the left-luggage place, it’s called a checkroom. A nice joint means a good pub, not roast meat …” He listed a variety of Christian names we should encounter, some taken from English titles such as Earl and Duke, some from American states such as Washington, Georgia, Florida. “On the other hand,” he went on, lapsing into his American accent as he warmed to his theme, “you’ll hardly find anyone christened Viscount or New York. There’s really no special logic to it.” He instructed us in the use of “gotten” and “you betcha” (under no circumstances to be pronounced, “you bet you”), and filled us up with a certain amount of misinformation to the effect that “pediatrician” was a fancy name for a corn specialist, and “mortician,” a musician with necrophilic bent who plays only at funerals.

“‘Twenty’ is pronounced ‘Twenny,’” Peter continued, “and be sure to leave out the first ‘T’ in Interesting, too. Then, you’ll have to know a few stock rejoinders. For example, you’ll find people generally sa “I’ll be seeing you’ instead of ‘goodbye.’ Then that leaves the field wide open for you to answer, ‘Not if I see you first,’ which will show you are on your toes, alert and amusing. Alternatively, you may be able to raise a laugh by saying, ‘Abyssinia.’ Another thing, if someone pays you a compliment—you’re looking well, what a pretty dress, and so forth—you are supposed to say ‘Thank you,’ instead of just mumbling inaudibly. You have to be on the lookout for what is considered a compliment too; for instance, an American may say, ‘That dress is the cat’s pajamas.’Don’t take this as a criticism, it’s meant as just the opposite.”