\u00a0 <\/b>I want look at Hazel Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s interest in and \u2018acquaintance with the vagaries of language\u2019, to use a phrase from the autobiographical note which opens Ancient Exmoor<\/i>.\u00a0 I will discuss two examples of it in her writing: the invented foreign language and the study of place names.\u00a0 All her words were carefully chosen and I think I should define the word \u2018vagary\u2019, which comes from the Latin \u2018to wander\u2019 and its primary meaning is a devious excursion.<\/p>\n
1.\u00a0 The uses of language in Coffin\u2019s Burden<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n
I will begin with Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s comic novel, Coffin\u2019s Burden<\/i>, written in 1948, but never published.\u00a0 <\/i>It was based on her experience of working for the British Council in Czechoslovakia between the end of World War Two and the beginning of the Cold War.\u00a0 Set in the fictional country of Missaloonia, Coffin\u2019s Burden <\/i>satirises the neo-colonial attitudes of many in the British Council, while the heroine, Kate, fosters close relations with the local artists and intellectuals, incurring the wrath of her superiors.\u00a0 The head of the British Council, the eponymous Coffin is notable for his outdated colonialism, as well as his obsession with rigid method.\u00a0 He bullies both his staff and his downtrodden wife Effie. He is dismissive of the local people and their language, referring to them as \u2018the natives\u2019.\u00a0 He is a linguistic pedant who disapproves strongly of his underlings\u2019 use of the colloquial.<\/p>\n
The Council puts on a \u2018typically English\u2019 review which includes a sketch in which they pretend to be country yokels, called \u2018Us be Varmers\u2019.\u00a0 They explain to the audience that \u2018we might be a bit at sea among Zummerzet varmers ourselves\u2019 and the important thing is to \u2018speak the King\u2019s English \u2013 plain, simple English\u2019.\u00a0 Eardley-Wilmot would have been well aware of the drive towards Standard English by the prescriptivists, especially popular in the late 19th<\/sup> and early 20th<\/sup> centuries, defined in\u00a0 Fowler\u2019s \u2018The King\u2019s English\u2019 in 1906.\u00a0 Such attempts were doomed to failure, and amongst both scholars and novelists there had been an equal enthusiasm for the study and recording of local patterns of speech and dialect, which was not always as patronising as the British Council sketch.<\/p>\n The other interesting aspect of Coffin\u2019s Burden<\/i> is Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s invention of a foreign language, Missaloonian.\u00a0 It\u2019s partly an exercise in how we, and the English people in the novel, hear unfamiliar and difficult foreign languages.\u00a0 Much of it is purely for comic effect: some incomprehensible words turn out to be onomatopoeia, or English with the vowels stripped out.\u00a0 Coffin\u2019s cook Zenana, for instance, rushes in shouting: \u2018Grk glmpk, glgl, shswsh!\u2019\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After more of this she finally points up in the direction of the bathroom and Coffin\u2019s wife Effie realises there\u2019s a problem with the plumbing. Foreign plumbing, she thinks.\u00a0 The invented words gradually make sense as the sympathetic characters, such as Effie, engage with local people and their language.\u00a0 Effie starts to talk to Zenana in a mixture of English and Missaloonian: \u2018Is it all right?\u00a0 Not grnk?\u2019<\/p>\n Robert Hampson pointed out that Malcolm Bradbury does something similar in his comic novel Rates of Exchange<\/i> (1983), in the mythical East European state Slaka, for which he invents a plausible and notably difficult language:<\/p>\n \u2018We have one spoken language and one book language.\u00a0 Really there are only three cases, but sometimes seven.\u00a0 Mostly it is inflected, but sometimes not.\u00a0 It is different from country to town, also from region to region\u2026 Vocabulary is a little bit Latin, a little bit German, a little bit Finn.\u00a0 So really it is quite simple\u2019.<\/p>\n The hero of Rates of Exchange<\/i>, Dr Petworth, a visiting linguistics lecturer with the British Council, is a dilettante in a country where language is a serious matter.\u00a0 Petworth is \u2018only political when roused, has no urgent views, merely a mild irony at the expense of all societies\u2019.\u00a0 Bradbury is satirising Petworth, but there is also an echo of his own disillusionment with politics in The History Man<\/i> (1975).\u00a0 It was a book which foreshadowed the ascendancy of Thatcherism.<\/p>\n There is a question about the extent to which Bradbury takes the people of Slaka seriously, and that in mocking communism he misses the human tragedy, according to the critic Lidia Vianu.\u00a0 Although she herself would later become obsessed with linguistics, Eardley-Wilmot also cared deeply about the plight of the Czechs (or Missaloonians) and would continue to do so for the rest of her life.<\/p>\n 2.\u00a0 Exmoor place names <\/b><\/p>\n Eardley-Wilmot returned to Exmoor to write Coffin\u2019s Burden<\/i> and many years later she would make it her home.\u00a0Her studies of local archaeology and history include both\u00a0dialect and place names.<\/p>\n The study of place names is a branch of philology which was well established by the late 20th<\/sup> century.\u00a0\u00a0 Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s article on the name of the Neolithic longstone \u2018Naked Boy\u2019 is an example of an attempt to uncover its true Celtic origins through linguistic investigation.\u00a0 This is contrasted with the salacious flights of fancy which the name had inspired in local myth and storytelling, and which are perpetuated in popular accounts such as Jack Hurley\u2019s Myths and Legends of Exmoor<\/i>.<\/p>\n I made use of both her account and that of Jack Hurley in \u2018Naked boy beaten\u2019 and \u2018Naked Boy as linguistic confusion\u2019: two sections of the \u2018Naked Boy\u2019 sequence in Lines of Sight<\/i>.\u00a0 Hurley claims that the rock is called \u2018Naked boy\u2019 because boys were literally stripped naked and made to stand on the stone.\u00a0 He goes further and claims that the boys were beaten, in a supposed enactment of the ritual of \u2018beating the bounds\u2019 of the Forest of Exmoor.\u00a0 Eardley-Wilmot is entirely dismissive of this claim, pointing out that no local evidence supports his \u2018fantasy\u2019.\u00a0 Her own account of the phrase is that it derives from the Celtic words for hill \u2018cnoc\u2019 and cattle \u2018bo\u2019, which became Knackyboy and also Naked Boy.<\/p>\n Her fascination with place names and their etymology goes further than this, and even within her discussion of \u2018Naked Boy\u2019 she makes reference to Bu<\/i> or boy<\/i>\u00a0 meaning ox or bull or cow to the earliest farmers \u2018before the tribes parted\u2019.\u00a0 She also notes that one of Homer\u2019s epithets for Hera, Queen of Heaven, was \u2018ox-eyed\u2019, bo-opis<\/i>.\u00a0 It is in the extended footnotes and digressions of Ancient Exmoor<\/i>, that her investigations become an intriguing metatext. <\/i>\u00a0She explores the etymology of place names as far back as Sanskrit, which may be tendentious, but is also highly imaginative.\u00a0 One example is the river Mole or Nymet (p. 45):<\/p>\n \u00a0\u2018The Mole was once called Nymet, a prehistoric name meaning holy, or divine, surviving in the Nympton village names further downstream\u2019.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0 She traces Nymet back to the Sanskrit word \u2018Nimi\u2019, which was a royal name, and the word \u2018nimna\u2019 associated with rivers.\u00a0 In the later Indo-European languages, \u2018nim\u2019 meant holy, noble or divine, like the Greek nymphs, and linked with water.\u00a0 She is quite convinced that there is a river connection to this name, rather than just woodland.\u00a0 Her love of streams and springs and the desire to trace their names, leads her to connect Kinsford to the Sanskrit word \u2018Kunti\u2019 for spring, which is also a girl\u2019s name in Hindi.\u00a0 This verges on Neolithic water worship, by way of philology. Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s article on place names which derive from tree names is also significant.\u00a0 In \u2018Oak, ash and thorn\u2019 (1984) she examines the dialect versions of tree names and how these still exist in local place names:<\/p>\n \u00a0Exmoor was such a wild wind-swept waste that a single tree was a notable landmark; and on the old commons outside the royal game-preserve, where the land was a little easier, tree names still recall lost woodlands and old ways of life.<\/p>\n \u00a0 In one passage she speculates about \u2018hazel\u2019:<\/p>\n \u00a0What of the hazel, though?\u00a0 That has been here from time immemorial and has left no obvious names \u2013 no Haslemere or Haseley or Hesleden.\u00a0 But a clue appears in dialect, in the reversal of sounds, so prevalent in the south-west \u2013 haps for hasp, crips for crisp.\u00a0 Halse for hazel is one of these.<\/p>\n \u00a0 More contentiously she derives from place names such as Driver, Dryslade and Dyre the Indo-European word \u2018dru\u2019: \u2018dru \u2026first meant any tree and specifically an oak.\u00a0 It would imply woodland where none remains\u2019.<\/p>\n I think that Eardley-Wilmot wanted to trace the origins of names, especially place names, back to their Indo-European roots as part of her sense of deep universal human history, our language, rituals and literature which for her had replaced any religious narrative.\u00a0 As \u2018above all, a writer\u2019, to quote a letter from Storm Jameson, Eardley-Wilmot couldn\u2019t resist the imaginative, human, and female resonance of place names, which took her further than philology would allow.\u00a0 In this she reminds me of the American poet HD and a passage from the novel Her<\/i>:<\/p>\n \u00a0 \u2018Pennsylvania.\u00a0 Names are in people, people are in names.\u00a0 Sylvania.\u00a0 I was born here.\u00a0 People ought to think before they call a place Sylvania.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0 Pennsylvania.\u00a0 I am part of Sylvania.\u00a0 Trees.\u00a0 Trees.\u00a0 Trees.\u00a0 Dogwood, liriodendron with its yellow-green tulip blossoms.\u00a0 Trees are in people.\u00a0 People are in trees.\u2019<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Bibliography<\/b><\/p>\n Ancient Exmoor: a study of the archaeology and prehistory of Exmoor<\/i>, Hazel Eardley-Wilmot, Exmoor Press, 1983<\/p>\n Yesterday\u2019s Exmoor<\/i>, Hazel Eardley-Wilmot, Exmoor Books, 1990<\/p>\n \u2018Oak, ash and thorn\u2019, Hazel Eardley-Wilmot, Exmoor Review<\/i>, 25, 1984, pp 43-44<\/p>\n \u2018The Naked Boy: a reappraisal\u2019, Hazel Eardley-Wilmot, Exmoor Review<\/i>, 38, pp 41-42<\/p>\n \u201cHazel Eardley-Wilmot: a search for origins\u201d, Frances Presley, Exmoor Review<\/i>, 52, 2011, pp. 48-50 and revised version in Junction Box<\/i>, 1, 2011<\/p>\n Lines of sight, <\/i>Frances Presley, Shearsman, 2009<\/p>\n Legends of Exmoor<\/i>, <\/i>Jack Hurley, Exmoor Press, 1973.<\/p>\n Rates of Exchange<\/i>, Malcolm Bradbury, Secker & Warburg, 1983<\/p>\n Wildwood: a journey through trees<\/i>, Roger Deakin, Hamish Hamilton, 2007<\/p>\n Signposts to the past<\/i>, Margaret Gelling, Dent, 1978<\/p>\n The Origin of English place names,<\/i> P.H. Reaney, Routledge, 1960<\/p>\n Her<\/i>, H.D., Virago, 1984<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Hazel Eardley-Wilmot and Exmoor dialect\u00a0 <\/b><\/p>\n This paper was written for a celebration of Hazel Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s interest in language, especially Exmoor dialect and place names.\u00a0 The event was held in the village of North Molton in April, with the support of the Exmoor Society, and it was chaired by Tilla Brading.<\/p>\n Giles Goodland, who works for the OED, talked about Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s Word List or dialect notebook which was used as a source for some of the material in Yesterday\u2019s Exmoor<\/i> and composed mainly between 1969 and 1990.\u00a0 Goodland has transcribed and edited the notebook, which was found in the Hugh Thomas archive, and which is now published by the Devonshire Association:<\/p>\n \u2018Hazel Eardley-Wilmot\u2019, Giles Goodland, Report and Transactions of the Devonshire Association<\/i>, 143, pp. 381-416<\/p>\n Richard Westcott gave a presentation on Frederic Thomas Elsworthy\u2019s immense 1886 Exmoor dictionary, also described in:\u00a0 \u2018The Speech of Exmoor\u2019, Richard Westcott, Exmoor Review<\/i>, 52, 2011, pp 117-120<\/p>\n Meriel Martin, of the English National Park Authorities, spoke about her dissertation on language and the Exmoor moorland landscape.\u00a0 It entails a glossary of terms relating to moorland landscape and its management, including the conflict between the language of policy and that of dialect.\u00a0 If we lose dialect we also lose our relationship with the landscape.\u00a0 She referred to Robert Macfarlane\u2019s essay \u2018A counter desecration phrase book\u2019, about an environmental campaign on the Isle of Lewis.<\/p>\n Throughout the day local people participated in the discussion and responded to Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s dialect glossary, often with additions or revisions.\u00a0 In particular Herbie Geen, a local farmer, and one of Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s informants, gave his response to the Word List.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Frances Presley lives in north London.\u00a0 Publications include Paravane: new and selected poems<\/i>, 1996-2003<\/i> (Salt, 2004); Myne: new and selected poems and prose, 1976-2005<\/i>, (Shearsman, 2006); Lines of Sight<\/i>, (Shearsman 2009); \u00a0\u00a0Stone settings<\/i> with Tilla Brading, (Odyssey, 2010), and An Alphabet for Alina<\/i> (Five Seasons, 2012), with Peterjon Skelt.\u00a0 Her work is in the anthologies Infinite Difference <\/i>(Shearsman, 2010), and Ground Aslant: radical landscape poetry <\/i>(Shearsman, 2011).\u00a0 She also contributed to a collection of poetic autobiographies, Cusp<\/i> (Shearsman, 2012).<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u00a0 I want look at Hazel Eardley-Wilmot\u2019s interest in and \u2018acquaintance with the vagaries of language\u2019, to use a phrase from the autobiographical note which opens Ancient Exmoor.\u00a0 I will discuss two examples of it in her writing: the invented foreign language and the study of place names.\u00a0 All her words were carefully chosen and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2664,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"footnotes":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false},"categories":[35,12],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/pothead2.jpg","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p42xiC-Hk","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2686"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2686"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2686\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2889,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2686\/revisions\/2889"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2664"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2686"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2686"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2686"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nNympton or Nymet was also of interest to Roger Deakin in his book Wildwood<\/i> and the chapter on \u2018Sacred groves of Devon\u2019.\u00a0 I notice that Deakin doesn\u2019t venture further back than Celtic.\u00a0 In a study of place-names by Margaret Gelling (1978), a chapter on Roman place names refers to settlements called Nymet in Devon, related to the Roman name \u2018Nemestatio\u2019, the first part of which probably means \u2018sacred wood\u2019 and Nymed may have survived as the name of a forest, which would reinforce Deakin\u2019s interpretation.\u00a0 However P.H. Reaney in The Origin of English Place Names<\/i> (1960) wrote that the British word \u2018nemeton\u2019 meant holy place and was also used of a holy river.<\/p>\n