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kot_kamhttps://www.newstatesman.com/long-reads/2022/06/oxford-english-dictionary-aardvark-woke-oed-history
Захватывающий лексикографический роман с элементами мелодрамы и детектива. Многое из этого приложимо и к русскому языку - хотя словаря такого у нас, разумеется, нет (его и ни у кого нет, OED уникален).
Do any of the lexicographers ever feel disquiet about language change? Paton admits the use of “of” instead of “have” – “I would of” – “gives me a bit of a jolt. [But] putting it in the dictionary wouldn’t upset me in any way, because I recognise it is used.” We pause to look it up, and find Charlotte Brontë is quoted as a source. Salazar laughs: “Charlotte Brontë! She doesn’t know how to write proper English.”
Johnson tells me about a wedding she attended, where she “was sitting with people I didn’t know at all and talking a bit about what I did. The guy beside me said, ‘Oh, it sounds very complicated.’ And I said, ‘Well, it is complicated, but it’s doable.’ And he went off on a rant: ‘You of all people, using this word, doable!’” Johnson regrets that she didn’t have a comeback; a quick check finds that “doable” dates back to 1443. McPherson points out that, similarly, the first quotation for the hyperbolic use of “literally” – “for some people, the wrong use” – is from 1769.
Those who profess a desire to “protect” the language out of love for it may be surprised to find that dictionary-makers do not consider themselves arbiters of what is “right” and “wrong”. Whether the question is about culture-wars issues of race and gender or a grammatical quibble, the answer is the same: the OED describes how language is already being used; it does not prescribe how it should be used, nor endorse a word’s use. McPherson observes that the dictionary’s reliance on written sources means it is often “at the rearguard” of language change rather than leading the charge.
The OED’s lexicographers believe that slang, such as “bae” (June 2019) and “lol” (surprisingly late: June 2020), is worthy of inclusion – or, at least, they won’t say otherwise. (One recent study found that Multicultural London English, a blend of migrant influences, could become Britain’s main dialect within 100 years.) “There are some things that you like more than others,” says McPherson. “But because everything’s earning its place, I don’t think there’s any point at which I’ve thought, ‘Why are we putting this in?’”
...
Having an open mind is essential for the role. “When you’re a lexicographer, if you hear a word that you’ve never heard before, you don’t go, ‘Ew, yuck, what’s that?’ You go, ‘Hmm, that’s interesting, why did they say it like that?’ You want to learn more.
“Words, to me, are like people,” she continues. “There are people I don’t like – but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognise their right to exist.” This takes on particular significance for Salazar: “I work with varieties that are minoritised, because they’re not what we think of as ‘correct’ English.” She tells me about a woman who cried with happiness on learning that the African-American “finna” – meaning “intending to”, as in, “I finna make dinner” – had been included in the OED. “These are people who, for their whole lives, have been told, ‘You are lesser, you are stupid, because of the way you speak.’ To say that, ‘No, actually, the words [you use] are in the dictionary’ – it has an impact on how people see themselves.”
Ask any of my interviewees what makes for a good lexicographer and they will say curiosity.
Захватывающий лексикографический роман с элементами мелодрамы и детектива. Многое из этого приложимо и к русскому языку - хотя словаря такого у нас, разумеется, нет (его и ни у кого нет, OED уникален).
Do any of the lexicographers ever feel disquiet about language change? Paton admits the use of “of” instead of “have” – “I would of” – “gives me a bit of a jolt. [But] putting it in the dictionary wouldn’t upset me in any way, because I recognise it is used.” We pause to look it up, and find Charlotte Brontë is quoted as a source. Salazar laughs: “Charlotte Brontë! She doesn’t know how to write proper English.”
Johnson tells me about a wedding she attended, where she “was sitting with people I didn’t know at all and talking a bit about what I did. The guy beside me said, ‘Oh, it sounds very complicated.’ And I said, ‘Well, it is complicated, but it’s doable.’ And he went off on a rant: ‘You of all people, using this word, doable!’” Johnson regrets that she didn’t have a comeback; a quick check finds that “doable” dates back to 1443. McPherson points out that, similarly, the first quotation for the hyperbolic use of “literally” – “for some people, the wrong use” – is from 1769.
Those who profess a desire to “protect” the language out of love for it may be surprised to find that dictionary-makers do not consider themselves arbiters of what is “right” and “wrong”. Whether the question is about culture-wars issues of race and gender or a grammatical quibble, the answer is the same: the OED describes how language is already being used; it does not prescribe how it should be used, nor endorse a word’s use. McPherson observes that the dictionary’s reliance on written sources means it is often “at the rearguard” of language change rather than leading the charge.
The OED’s lexicographers believe that slang, such as “bae” (June 2019) and “lol” (surprisingly late: June 2020), is worthy of inclusion – or, at least, they won’t say otherwise. (One recent study found that Multicultural London English, a blend of migrant influences, could become Britain’s main dialect within 100 years.) “There are some things that you like more than others,” says McPherson. “But because everything’s earning its place, I don’t think there’s any point at which I’ve thought, ‘Why are we putting this in?’”
...
Having an open mind is essential for the role. “When you’re a lexicographer, if you hear a word that you’ve never heard before, you don’t go, ‘Ew, yuck, what’s that?’ You go, ‘Hmm, that’s interesting, why did they say it like that?’ You want to learn more.
“Words, to me, are like people,” she continues. “There are people I don’t like – but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognise their right to exist.” This takes on particular significance for Salazar: “I work with varieties that are minoritised, because they’re not what we think of as ‘correct’ English.” She tells me about a woman who cried with happiness on learning that the African-American “finna” – meaning “intending to”, as in, “I finna make dinner” – had been included in the OED. “These are people who, for their whole lives, have been told, ‘You are lesser, you are stupid, because of the way you speak.’ To say that, ‘No, actually, the words [you use] are in the dictionary’ – it has an impact on how people see themselves.”
Ask any of my interviewees what makes for a good lexicographer and they will say curiosity.
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Date: 2022-07-05 10:09 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2022-07-05 07:38 pm (UTC)-----
Помню читал, что многие "американизмы" — это вполне нормальные английские значения... но ещё из колониальных времен. В островном английском они со временем благополучно вымерли, а в колониях значит сохранились. :)
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Date: 2022-07-06 06:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-07-06 12:02 pm (UTC)