The Linguist

@CIOL_Linguists AUTUMN 2024 The Linguist 29 SECTION HEADER REVIEWS Bafflegab Susie Dent and Gyles Brandreth Something Rhymes with Purple; Somethin' Else with Sony Music Entertainment; Apple Podcasts/ Spotify Free; Purple Plus £2.99 pcm Something Rhymes with Purple is a podcast exploring the origins of words. In the 46- minute episode 'Bafflegab', Susie Dent and Gyles Brandreth discuss all things nonsense. They begin with a foray into the vocabulary we use to describe nonsense itself, including 'gobbledegook', 'balderdash' and the less common 'bafflegab'. Did you know that 'gobbledegook' comes from the sound a turkey makes? After this etymological exploration, the hosts celebrate nonsense prose and poetry, including Edward Lear and Dr Seuss. Susie reads Spike Milligan's poem 'On the Ning Nang Nong' and discusses why it is such a popular teaching resource in schools. The hosts' enthusiasm for this genre of writing is a good reminder for us linguists – professionally obliged to take language seriously – to find opportunities to play with words and language. I'd argue that this is an important way to stay tapped into the passion that inspired our careers in the first place. The episode rounds off as they usually do, first with correspondence from listeners (who ask about the origins of specific words or answer questions posed in previous episodes). Susie then presents her 'trio for the week' – three unusual words and their meanings – before Gyles wraps things up by reading a poem that ties in with the theme of the episode. This time, he reads Lear's beloved poem 'The Owl and the Pussy-Cat'. For those wanting a deeper dive into the topics, subscription to the Purple Plus Club is available for a small monthly fee. Anam Zafar MCIL cÉwvtáàá Each year in May, the Brighton Festival showcases the best of new British and overseas art and performance. On guest director Frank Cotterell-Boyce's programme for 2024, one show stood out: Patois, the newest piece by Jeanefer Jean-Charles. While the contemporary dance choreographer's career so far has seen her devise movement for some of the biggest performance events of the last 20 years, I am able to anticipate little more than that Patois will forefront the linguistic, sharing as it does the name of the group of language varieties formed through ethnic mixing on slave plantations in the Caribbean. 1 The stage on the seafront is adorned only with a pair of flags and several stacks of tartan suitcases, all in vivid blue, yellow and black: a sense of removal to an exotic destination is present even before the five-strong dance troupe emerge through the crowd announcing "we're off to Saint Lucia". The dancers' cheery, childlike tone, exaggerated movement and breaking of the fourth wall contrast with the serious, academic tenor that the piece's title and description suggest (and delight the numerous families in the audience). As they take to the stage, the dancers' blue trousers sway like the sea and their colourful sleeves shimmer, as if lit up by an Antillean sun. The image of an all-Black troupe celebrating their cultural heritage to a lively Calypso backing is a joyous one. Before long, however, one dancer removes her shirt to reveal a white tank top. As she is carried and her body manipulated by the others, a sense of displacement and difference emerges. A further costume change ensues as the two male dancers open their suitcases to find suit jackets, waistcoats and trilby hats, while the women dress in tartan skirts. No sooner are these normative gender roles established, though, than they dissolve, the men replacing their dresswear with skirts in an act of cultural blending and innovation akin to the creolisation process that gave rise to the group of languages known as patois. Throughout the piece, the Kwéyòl 2 vocals of the soundtrack are foregrounded, instating the linguistic as a primary means by which mixed identities may be established and defined. The dancers' movements – the qualities of which range from the dynamism of afrobeat to the lyricism of ballet – play a similar role, blending generic styles and defying any expectations the audience may have. Patois leaves its best act till last. It feels like a spell has been broken when the dancers assemble at the front of the stage and one takes a microphone. But when he asks the audience to name the languages they speak (these include German, Greek, Brazilian Portuguese and Urdu) it is clear that a new collaborative, discursive space is being established. The cast teach us a song in Kwéyòl: en tibo, deux tibo, trois tibo, ca bon ca bon ('one kiss, two kisses, three kisses, it's good it's good'; French speakers will recognise their grammar superimposed with novel lexis – as is the pattern of most creoles). As we chant with increasing confidence, the dancers jump down into the crowd to lead us in a joyous final conga. For all participants, young and old, of all nationalities and origins, this is a moment of pure inhibition that modern-day British life rarely allows us to experience. As we dance by the English Channel, perhaps we ought to be reminded that the many cultural contributions brought to us from overseas are easily as valuable as the few traditional practices that originated on this island. At the end, Jean-Charles takes the stage; she should be firmly aware of just how important a journey she has taken us on. Fred Waine Notes 1 I would recommend reading Jean-Charles's own description of her piece in order to better understand its content: www.jeanefer.com/patois. 2 The local name for the patois of Saint Lucia. Brighton Festival, 18-19 May; Greenwich+ Docklands International Festival, Aug-Sept For dates see https://www.jean efer.com/patois/ Free Patois Jeanefer Jean-Charles XäxÇàá © CLAIRE LEACH

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