OF GAMUTS AND GOBBLEDYGOOK AND TILTED TONGUES

by Steven Steinbock

I was overwhelmed with all the discussion that took place in the comment section of last week’s Bandersnatches. Comments ran the gamut from euphemized swear words to pronunciation pet peeves.

Jeff Baker rightly pointed out that the expression gobbledygook is connected to the word maverick, and by only one degree of separation. The first person to be known as a maverick was Texas lawyer, politician, and land-baron Samuel Augustus Maverick. (And I always thought it was James Garner!) Sam was so independently minded that, according to legend, he stubbornly refused to brand his cattle. The term maverick was first cited in 1867, three years before the maverick’s death.

It was Sam’s grandson, Texas congressman Maury Maverick (1895-1854), who made up the term gobbledygook to refer to incomprehensible jargon. It is said that he came up with the term while imitating a turkey. You can never trust them Texans.

The comments in last week’s column also featured Rob Lopresti’s reminder that there is no R in Washington. Rob is correct. I, too, occasionally hear people say Warshington and it drives me batty. I also find it annoying when people stress the final vowel in the word Oregon, but that’s another matter. This point about misplaced Rs brings up a linguistic issue I’ve been thinking about for a while, and I hope you’ll bear with me.

As a little experiment, please read the following passage aloud:

The quick yellow fox jumps at the lazy dog.

Try it again. Don’t be shy.

The quick yellow fox jumps at the lazy dog.

Okay, now try this one:

Robert Rowly rolled a round roll around a really red roast.

Notice any differences? As you read the first passage (which I had to alter slightly for this experiment), your mouth probably did the whole job symmetrically. Your left cheek was mirroring what your right cheek did. Your tongue licked, clicked, and danced in perfect, even balance.

If you read the second passage with a standard American accent, I’d wager next week’s column that unless you have a speech impediment, your tongue tilted sideways every time you pronounced an “R.” Go back and try it again. You’ll see that I’m right.

I’m not a real linguist by any stretch. I have no formal knowledge beyond what I’ve read and the countless hours I’ve spent playing mouth games. There may be a real linguist or speech therapist who can explain this more scientifically. I assume that there are other languages the do lopsided Rs the way we do. I gather that in England the tongue doesn’t tilt nearly as much as the American tongue, but perhaps one of our British readers will set me straight. The French and Hebrew “R” sounds are said deep in the throat, without tilting the tongue at all. The Spanish “R” is a trill made near the tip of the tongue. Japanese and Chinese “R” sounds are made with a downward flick of the tongue starting on or near the alveolar ridge (which is why there are so many obnoxious “flied lice” jokes). I don’t know why we roll our tongues when we say our Rs. Do you?

Our time is just about up. I still haven’t had a chance to share my thoughts on laconic, languid, feckless, ninny, or nincompoop. They’ll have to wait. But in my opening paragraph I used the terms gamut and pet peeve. (I also managed to use the expression euphemized swear words for which I’m giddy with pride).

I was intrigued to learn that gamut began life as a medieval musical term. Gamma ut was the first, or lowest, note in the medieval six-note musical scale. The word ut was later replaced with do, which is a good thing. Other wise Julie Andrews would be singing “Ut a deer, a female deer,” and the von Trapps might never have made it out of occupied Austria.

The expression pet peeve involves a long, sad story and will have to wait.

See you in seven.