Showing posts with label Alan Jay Lerner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alan Jay Lerner. Show all posts

Monday, October 21, 2019

Autumn or Fall?

Fall Leaves in Prague

Remember the classic love song from Camelot?
If I Ever I Would Leave You:

But if I'd ever leave you,
It couldn't be in autumn.
How I'd leave in autumn
I never will know.
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air.
I know you in autumn
And I must be there.


by American lyricist
Alan Jay Lerner (1918 – 1986)

One thing I have always liked about this particular stanza is the ease with which it moves from autumn to fall and back again. Two words, same season, no confusion. In addition to checking out the dictionary, here is an interesting explanation for our doubly named season:
The persistence of two terms for the third season in the United States, while somewhat of a mystery, may have something to do with the spread of English to the American continent at the very epoch when "fall" began jockeying for position with "autumn": the 17th century. At that time, both terms were adopted stateside, and the younger, more poetic "fall" gained the upper hand. Back in Britain, however, "autumn" won out. The continued acceptance of "autumn" in the United States may reflect the influence, or at least the proximity, of English culture and literature.

According to Slate, British lexicographers begrudgingly admit that the United States got the better end of the stick. In "The King's English" (1908), H.W. Fowler wrote, "Fall is better on the merits than autumn, in every way: it is short, Saxon (like the other three season names), picturesque; it reveals its derivation to every one who uses it, not to the scholar only, like autumn."


~from Natalie Wolchover at livescience.com
Along the same lines, Bill Bryson writes that "Other words and expressions that were common in Elizabethan England that died in England were fall as a synonym for autumn" (The Mother Tongue, 171) -- due most likely to a frankophile preference for French over English. Likewise, in Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States, Bryson observes:
Where they could, however, the first colonists stuck doggedly to the words of the Old World. They preserved words with the diligence of archivists. Scores, perhaps hundreds, of English terms that would later perish from neglect in their homeland live on in America thanks to the essentially conservative nature of the early colonists.

Fall for autumn is perhaps the best known. It was a relatively new word at the time of the Pilgrims--its first use in English was recorded in 1545--but it remained in common use in England until the second half of the nineteenth century. Why it died out there when it did is unknown
(19).

Personally, I'm betting on francophonism!
Most oddly, in the movie In America (loveable in every other way), the mother (portrayed by Samantha Morton) goes out of her way to explain to her little daughter (Sarah Bolger) that, unlike the Irish, Americans don't understand the word autumn because in America they only say fall. What? Not only is this throwaway comment completely extraneous to the plot of the movie, but it is also highly inaccurate. Sounds to me like the notion of some misguided Anglophiles who underestimate the breadth and flexibility of American English. And who, apparently, never listened to the lyrics of Camelot or sang along with "If Ever I Would Leave You" -- or read my brother's essay!

Autumn Evening in Prague

P.S.
And then we have scones vs "skawns"!

Friday, October 16, 2015

"Without your pulling it the tide comes in . . . "

Moon Phases & Tides

Without You
What a fool I was, what a dominated fool
To think that you were the Earth and sky
What a fool I was, what an addlepated fool
What a mutton-headed dote was I

No, my reverberating friend
You are not the beginning and the end

There'll be spring every year without you
England still will be here without you
There'll be fruit on the tree
And a shore by the sea
There'll be crumpets and tea without you

Art and music will thrive without you
Somehow Keats will survive without you
And there still will be rain on that plain down in Spain
Even that will remain without you,
I can do without you!

You, dear friend, who talk so well
You can go to Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire
They can still rule the land without you
Windsor Castle will stand without you
And without much ado we can
All muddle through without you

Without your pulling it the tide comes in
Without your twirling it, the Earth can spin
Without your pushing them, the clouds roll by
If they can do without you, ducky, so can I

I shall not feel alone without you
I can stand on my own without you
So go back in your shell
I can do bloody well
Without you


Lerner & Loewe


This favorite song, plus readings
by Wayne Muller, Esther Hillesum, Saxon N. White Kessinger
and from the movie Birdman
on my current post

~ "The Galaxy Will Manage" ~

@ The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker:
A Fortnightly [every 14th & 28th] Literary Blog of
Connection & Coincidence; Custom & Ceremony

Monday, May 6, 2013

On the Street Where You Live

Our favorite house ever!

On the Street Where We Lived (1993 - 2001)

One of the features I like to incorporate into my Fortnightly blog is a painting or photograph every two weeks that somehow illustrates the concept of "a house where all's accustomed, ceremonious." I have a few on hand that so far haven't really matched up with any particular post, so I thought it might be fun to let them stand alone as quotidian tidbits here on my daily blog.

This picture is one of my favorites -- our beautiful Victorian twin, built in 1895, in a part of West Philadelphia called University City (near the U Penn campus). Our house stood right on the corner, so the flowers that you see here are actually in our neighbor's yard. From this perspective, though it looks as if they might have been in ours.

This photo confirms something that you might not suspect about Philadelphia:
Are there lilac trees in the heart of town?
Yes, there are!

On the Street Where You Live

I have often walked
Down the street before,
But the pavement always
Stayed beneath my feet before.
All at once am I
Several stories high,
Knowing I'm on the street where you live.

Are there lilac trees
In the heart of town?
Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?
Does enchantment pour
Out of every door?
No, it's just on the street where you live.

And oh, the towering feeling
Just to know somehow you are near
The overpowering feeling
That any second you may suddenly appear.

People stop and stare
They don't bother me,
For there's no where else on earth
That I would rather be.

Let the time go by,
I won't care if i
Can be here on the street where you live.


Lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner
Music by Frederick Loewe


PLEASE NOTE:
This is not a song about stalking!
Merely some light - hearted love lyrics from the musical My Fair Lady!

Here in Indiana, we love our grafted lilac
that blooms both purple and white on the same bush!

(A present from my father - in - law ~ Thanks Grandpa Ron!)


My friend Cate writes from Ohio:
"Everything here is soooo beautiful. It makes my heart ache.
It looks like heaven it's so beautiful."

P.S.
In the 1990s, Cate was my across - the - street neighbor in Philadelphia.
Now we are neighbors in the Midwest!