Scotch and Water
By MORAY McLAREN THE most embarrassing sounds that can be made by the human voice in these islands are from (a) a Scot trying, and failing, to speak 'high English,' (b) an Englishman humorously assuming what he calls the 'Scotch accent.' Both these excruciating noises are much to be heard in Edinburgh each summer now that that city has become something of a tourist centre, and particularly during the Edinburgh Festival.
All attempts anywhere to refine upon natural speech arc painful or ridiculous, but this is especially true in Scotland. The Scottish tongue is essentially vigorous and forceful. When it declines then upon refinement the effect is all the more spectacular. It is like a Clydesdale horse trying to join in a steeplechase, or the player of an ophicleide or tuba putting his lips to a piccolo. It leads to some odd results.
In the true Scottish tongue there is no short 'a.' The words 'hat' and 'man' are pronounced 'haht' and 'mahn.' The Scot wishing to anglicise his speech knows that the English some- times shorten the 'a' but is never quite sure when. This pro- t ABROAD ON THE CHEAP, by Wendy Hall (Faber, 10s. 6d.), from which extracts were printed in the Spectator on January 27. daces such memorable solecisms as `Sahturday afternoon' or gahs-mask' for gas-mask. Few people (despite much steering Of the conversation) have been fortunate enough to hear both Phrases used in one sentence. In my youth. however, I remember a buxom Scottish lassie who, after we had trundled each other for some time in embarrassed silence around the floor of the Edinburgh Palais de Danse, said : `Do you Perspaire? Ai do freely.'
No less embarrassing to our northern ears are the sounds emitted by amiable visiting Englishmen (generally of the theatrical or journalistic professions) who wish to set us natives at our ease by a display of bonhomie, either fausse or vraie. They do this by many references to banging saxpences, to wee hooses (usually pronounced hoozes) `mang the heatherrrr,' and When kindly offering drinks by stating that 'the booze is on the hoose'—or rather `booze.' Later there is sure to be some reference to `auld lang syne' or more usually `zyne.'
Nor is this assumption of the conventions of music-hall Scotch confined to the spoken word. Many of the visiting critics at the time of the Festival somehow manage to get it into print. When they have finished complaining about our licensing laws (and how right they are here—if only they Wouldn't go on about it so much) they love to add a touch of local colour to their criticisms of Richard Strauss or Shakespeare as performed against the backcloth of the admittedly theatrical Edinburgh scene. They achieve this by setting down imaginary dialogues with hotel porters, taxi drivers and the like, peppered with exclamations like 'hoots have heard such remarks from the audiences during Performances.
The truth is that neither of us, Scotch or English, shows to much advantage when we are in each other's country or When we are apeing. each other. I who have so warm an affection for many of my English friends in England have to spend much of my time explaining to my compatriots and fellow-citizens that the English are not the condescending buffoons they appear to be when, theatrically or journalisti- cally, they visit us. When I lived in England I had the even More formidable task of trying to convince my English friends that my country was not truly iepresented by the Scotch oafs or professional sentimentalists who usually succeed in getting on so well in London.
The most difficult type to explain away is. of course, the notorious `held o' a depairtment' often to be found in its intensest and most canting form amongst successful. Scotch Meet Street men—the editors, high executives and the like.
The best that one can do is to point out that we have at least ourselves, got rid of them. When there was some talk 01 founding a John Gordon Society in London. I had thought of suggesting to its English members the motto of 'Home, John, and don't spare the 'osses.' Even as a pleasantry, this seemed to me as a Scotsman unpatriotic advice. It might have been taken.
And as for the Scottish Members of Parliament, they manage to keep very quiet at Westminster nowadays. You'd hardly know they were there. They are, of all the sheep that tem- Porarily inhabit that riverside pen, the most docile and only baa when they are told. They, keep their louder and less agree- able noises to be emitted at home in their own constituencies. These, south of the border, you cannot hear. At least we don't have to explain them away to you—not nowadays. But then you don't have to explain away the noises made by an English politician or journalist telling a funny Scotch story, at a public meeting in Scotland. L
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