The mither of all battles

[Harold F. Schiffman]

>>From the Scotsman

The mither of all battles
JAMES ROBERTSON

Scots: The Mither Tongue

Billy Kay

IN EVERY generation for the past three centuries there have been those -
often writers who have made excellent use of Scots in their own work -
mourning its recent or imminent demise. In 1775 Henry Mackenzie
complained: "Tis pity that the Language... will probably soon become so
antiquated as not to be understood." Robert Louis Stevenson, introducing
the Scots poems in his 1887 collection Underwoods, reckoned it "a dying
language": "The day draws near when this illustrious and malleable tongue
shall be quite forgotten; and Burns' Ayrshire, and Dr MacDonald's
Aberdeen-awa', and Scott's brave, metropolitan utterance will all be
equally the ghosts of speech." And as recently as 2002, William
McIlvanney, author of the Scots-laden novel Docherty, was moved by the
same sense of doom. Commenting in this newspaper on the award of
substantial lottery funding to Itchy Coo, a new Scots language imprint for
schools of which - let me lay my cards on the table - I was a co-founder,
he wrote: "I suppose this project... might re-introduce some Scottish
words into temporary currency.  But any serious rehabilitation of the
Scots language? Forget it."

As anybody involved in defending an oppressed, neglected or otherwise
disadvantaged language will tell you, it's easy to be pessimistic. The
history of Scots since the 17th century appears to be one of steady
decline, punctuated by literary revivals. But to measure a language by its
literature is not necessarily an accurate gauge of its health at
street-level. A further problem lies in the common roots and features
Scots shares with English - the cause of endless debate about its status.
While nobody would suggest that French and English are the same because
they share, but pronounce differently, words such as 'situation' and
'cascade', the socio-political relationship between English and Scots has
meant that words like 'hoose' and 'faither' have usually been considered
mere dialect variations.

The difference is one of political perception. Billy Kay, in a new edition
of his study Scots: The Mither Tongue, quotes the German philologist
Manfred Georlach, who reckons that Scots is more removed from English than
Slovak is from Czech, Croatian from Serbian, or Norwegian from Swedish.
Kay presents overwhelming evidence of the distinctive vocabulary, syntax
and grammar of Scots. It is 20 years since its first publication, which
itself followed on from his radio and television programmes. Back then,
Kay was the public face of Scots, and was roundly abused by some for
pleading its cause. For others, his work transformed their thinking: never
before had they been told, on the BBC no less, that what they spoke, far
from being the 'language of the gutter' or debased English, had an
800-year pedigree, two multi-volume dictionaries describing it, a vast and
glorious literature, and a whole set of dialects of its own.

This was a life-affirming, emotionally and intellectually liberating
message, and it took courage and conviction to be the messenger. It is
ironic, therefore, that as his book is re-issued, another series on Scots
goes out on BBC2 to which Kay, despite his significance, was not asked to
contribute. No harm to the BBC for commissioning the new series, for sadly
the arguments for Scots as a fundamental element of our daily national
life and historic culture still need to be made. But far more welcome
would be regular programmes - dramas, documentaries, sitcoms, chat shows -
not about but in Scots. Since 1986 much has changed on the political,
educational and social landscape, and Kay has had to rewrite several
sections of his book. He opens with a passionate attack on the reluctance
of politicians in post-devolution Scotland to take positive action on
behalf of a language used, according to the government's own estimate, by
some 1.6 million people. If the parliament in Edinburgh is to be about
anything, he argues, surely it should be about recognising and supporting
a national language - as, quite properly, has been the case with Gaelic,
spoken by around 60,000 people. Quite apart from continuing prejudice
against Scots, Kay suspects a financial reason for this reluctance: if
Gaelic education and broadcasting cost upwards of 10m a year, how much
might similar treatment for Scots cost?

Perhaps the Executive should think of the potential bill as a long-term
investment in the future of the 'best wee country in the world': nurturing
self-confidence, undermining the notion of the 'inarticulate Scot', and,
as the Gaelic model has shown, boosting economic activity, not least in
the field of cultural tourism. After all, the world's anthem of
friendship, 'Auld Lang Syne', is composed in Scots. THERE ARE, AS already
noted, always grounds for pessimism. In some parts of the country
vocabulary loss continues unabated, and many children struggle to
pronounce the velar fricative 'ch' in 'loch' or the 'wh' in 'wheesht'. Yet
elsewhere young people retain plenty of Scots vocabulary and - a vital
sign in any language - are adding new words to the old.

The politics may be frustrating, but 20 years ago one would have been
hard-pressed to find a politician who even acknowledged the existence of
Scots. Now, government ministers publicly state their commitment to it,
even if serious money to develop a sustained Scots language policy is not
yet forthcoming. The Executive's Culture Report commits to the "promotion
and development of the Scots language" and promises to investigate "how
best to meet our obligations for [its] development in the light of the
European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages". The European context
is forcing politicians to take Scots seriously, and because of devolution,
the issue will not go away. Nor, indeed, will the language. However one
defines it, its existence can no longer be denied - not, at least, by
anyone with a pair of lugs on the Forfar bus, or in a hospital,
supermarket, school or sports centre; nor by anyone watching Still Game or
Liz Lochhead's Tartuffe, listening to traditional folk music or Off the
Ball, or reading the poetry of Christine De Luca or the fiction of Irvine
Welsh.

So, is Kay an optimist? He surely couldn't have republished his book if he
wasn't. What will happen to Scots, he asks. "To begin with, we shall see a
continuation of the process of recent decades: rapid erosion in some
airts, thrawn survival in other airts." But, he goes on: "in aw the airts,
the structure of the dialects of Scots survives and can thrive again if
the political, cultural and financial will is there to normalise the
language." The new political set-up makes this possible, and the
experience of a project like Itchy Coo (some 80,000 books sold in
three-and-a-half years)  proves the enthusiasm and hunger that people have
for their own language and culture, if given half a chance to access them.
Scots: The Mither Tongue is a timeous, informative and invigorating entry
point to that process.

Read this article in Scots online at www.scotlandonsunday.com/scotslang/

http://news.scotsman.com/features.cfm?id=369692006

[And for good measure, same as above in Scots:]

 Scots: The Mither Tongue
JAMES ROBERTSON

Scots: The Mither Tongue
by Billy Kay
Mainstream Publishing, 9.99

In ilka generation this last three hunner year there's aye been folk gleg
tae murn the daith - 'no langsyne' or 'no lang noo' - o Scots, and as
aften as no they hae been writers that themsels made guid uise o Scots in
their ain wark. In 1775 Henry Mackenzie peenged, 'Tis pity that the
Language.will probably soon become so antiquated as not to be understood.'
Robert Louis Stevenson, introducin the Scots poems in his 1887 collection
Underwoods, thocht it 'a dying language': 'The day draws near when this
illustrious and malleable tongue shall be quite forgotten; and Burns's
Ayrshire, and Dr MacDonald's Aberdeen-awa', and Scott's brave,
metropolitan utterance will all be equally the ghosts of speech.' And in
2002, William McIlvanney, author o Docherty, a novel reamin-fou wi Scots,
wis taen ower wi the same heavy dooms. Scrievin in this blaud aboot a
muckle Lottery award tae Itchy Coo, a new Scots language imprent for
scuils - and I'll no be blate, I wis yin o its co-foonders - McIlvanney
wrote: 'I suppose this project.might re-introduce some Scottish words into
temporary currency. But any serious rehabilitation of the Scots language?
Forget it.'

The umquhile George Bruce yince lichtlied aw this morbidity in his poem
'Urn Burial (RIP Scots Tongue)' in which the ess o the deid are blawn awa
by 'a fuff o wind', and '"She's jinkit again,/ the bitch!"/ said the man
wi the spade.' For, despite the evendoun dule o its freens, and the best
ettles o its faes, Scots jist winna stey streekit in the lair that has
been howkit for it.

As onybody involved in defendin a dounhauden, negleckit or itherweys
hinnert language will tell ye, it's no hard tae be disjaskit. The history
o Scots sin the 17th century looks like yin lang dwyne, interrupit
atweenwhiles wi literary revivals. But a language's literature's no ayewis
the richt meisure o its weel-bein on the street.

Anither problem lies in the common ruits and swatches Scots shares wi
English - the cause o endless disputes anent its richt status. Naebody wid
threap that French and English are the same because they share, but soond
itherweys, wurds like 'situation' and 'cascade' - but the socio-political
relationship atween English and Scots has resultit in words like 'hoose'
and 'faither' bein thocht naethin mair nor dialect variations.

This is aw aboot political perception. Billy Kay, in a new edition o his
study Scots: The Mither Tongue, quotes the German philologist Manfred
Grlach, whae reckons Scots stauns at mair lenth frae English nor Slovak
frae Czech, Croatian frae Serbian, or Norwegian frae Swedish. Kay presents
a walth o evidence o the sindry and kenspeckle vocabulary, syntax and
grammar o Scots. The book's first prentin, noo twenty year syne, itsel
follaed on frae his radio and television programmes. In thae days, Kay wis
the kent face o Scots, and wis sairly miscawed by some for pleadin its
cause. For ithers, hooiver, his wark chynged their wey o thinkin: naebody
had iver tellt them afore, let alane on the BBC, that whit they spoke
wisna jist no the 'language o the sheuch' or mankit English, but had an
eicht-hunner-year strynd, twa multi-volume dictionars descrivin it, a
great and glorious literature, and a haill set o dialects o its ain.

This wis a life-upheezin, emotionally and intellectually liberatin
message, that needit baith sowl and smeddum on the pairt o the messenger.
It's ironic, syne, that, even as his book is reissued, anither series on
Scots gaes oot on BBC2 that Kay, for aw that, wisna speirit tae contribute
til. Nae danger tae the BBC for commissionin the new series, for the dour
truth is that the arguments for Scots as something biggit in tae the
larach o oor daily national life and historic culture still hae tae be
made. But whit wid be mair welcome wid be regular programmes - dramas,
documentaries, sitcoms, chat shows - no aboot but in Scots.

Since 1986 muckle has chynged on the political, educational and social
landscape, and Kay has had tae rewrite a puckle sections o his book. He
opens wi a birsie attack on the sweirtness o politicians in
post-devolution Scotland tae tak positive action on behaulf o a language
uised, accordin tae the government's ain coont, by some 1.6 million fowk.
If the parliament in Embro is tae be aboot onythin, he argues, shairly it
has tae be aboot recognisin and uphaudin a national language - as,
richtly, has happened wi Gaelic, spoken by 60,000 fowk or thereawa. Lettin
alane ongaun nerra-heiditness agin Scots, Kay jalouses a financial reason
for this sweirtness: if Gaelic education and braidcastin cost ten million
pund and mair a year, hoo muckle micht like treatment for Scots cost?

Maybe the Executive should think on the potential bill as a lang-term
investment in the future o the 'best wee country in the warld': nurturing
sel-confidence, cawin the feet frae the notion o the 'inarticulate Scot',
and, as the example o Gaelic shaws, giein a heeze tae economic activity,
no least in the field o cultural tourism. Efter aw, the warld's sang o
freenship, 'Auld Lang Syne', is composed in Scots.

Of coorse there'll aye be grunds for pessimism. In some airts o the
country vocabulary loss gangs on wi nae devaul, and mony bairns are sair
pit tae it tae soond the velar fricative 'ch' in 'loch' or the 'wh' in
'wheesht'. Yet in ither airts young people still hae a hantle Scots
vocabulary and - a vital sign in ony language - are ekin new wurds tae the
auld. The politics micht be taiglesome, but twenty year syne ye'd hae been
warslin tae find a politician that even awned the existence o Scots. Noo,
government ministers publicly state their commitment tae it, even if
eneuch siller tae bigg a sustained Scots language policy hasna yet been
furthset. The Executive's Culture Report commits tae the 'promotion and
development of the Scots language' and promises tae speir oot 'how best to
meet our obligations for [its] development in the light of the European
Charter for Regional or Minority Languages'. The European context is
garrin politicians tak Scots seriously, and, thanks tae devolution, the
issue winna gang awa.

Nor, tae, will the language. Whitiver wey ye define it, its existence can
nae langer be denied - no, at least, by onybody wi a perr o lugs on the
Forfar bus, or in a hospital, supermercat, scuil or sports centre; nor by
onybody watchin Still Game or Liz Lochhead's Tartuffe, luggin in tae
traditional folk music or Off the Ball, or readin the poetry o Christine
De Luca or the fiction o Irvine Welsh.

Sae, is Kay an optimist? He shairly couldna hae republished his book if he
wisna. Whit will happen tae Scots in the 21st century, he asks. 'To begin
with, we shall see a continuation of the process of recent decades: rapid
erosion in some airts, thrawn survival in other airts.' But, he gaes on,
'in aw the airts, the structure of the dialects of Scots survives and can
thrive again if the political, cultural and financial will is there to
normalise the language.' The new political set-up maks this possible, and
the experience o a project like Itchy Coo (some 80,000 books sellt in
three and a hauf years) pruves the hert-hunger that folk hae for their ain
tung and culture, if gien hauf a chance tae access them. Scots: The Mither
Tongue is a timeous, throu-gaun, stuffy and raucle entry pynt tae that
process.