There was a time when the BBC was not solely inhabited by individuals who spoke with plummy, public-school accents which located their upbringing as having been in an anonymous and mysterious cloistered environment that was never actually revealed. That was because it didn't physically exist. It was (still is) an intangible attribute of birthright, deployed to distinguish its users from the riff-raff and to mark themselves out as superior beings.
Nevertheless, there were those who dared to differentiate themselves along identifiably regional lines. Numbered among them were Eamonn Andrews, Jimmy Clitheroe, John Arlott and Ted Moult. But they all - more or less - still spoke the Queen's English. The BBC was able to tolerate little else unless there was some comedic value attached. Even as the modern world, aka permissiveness, passed through the portal of Broadcasting House, the requirement barely shifted. If you ever have the chance, listen to John Peel circa 1967. The slow, "really nice", public-school drawl is unrecognisable with what it became once he discovered punk.
It may well have been punk which shifted the BBC spoken axis as much as it had launched a broadside against predominantly public-school prog rock (e.g. Genesis). But whatever and whenever it was, the BBC started to become what it is now - all things to all men, women and children, however and whatever they speak. Which is exactly how it should be: a reflection of society rather than being a self-appointed arbiter, which it was when the insistence was on the Queen's English and, prior to the Queen, the King.
Along the way, however, there have been major assaults on standards of grammar. There is no better an example than what one might call Football English. Identifying the culprit for this is not easy, but I'm tempted to finger Ron Atkinson. It was Big Ron, it seems to me, who popularised the footballing use of the present perfect tense. For those of you unfamiliar with this, it goes something like: "The boy's gone down the line, he's crossed the ball, and the big fella's stuck it in the back of the net."
Grammatically there is a problem with this structure, and it lies with its application. It is after the event, used to describe something that has happened and has been completed. The present perfect is therefore incorrect. The past tense is required: "the boy went down the line, etc." But does it matter? Not really. It grates - well it does with me - but if the application becomes as pervasive as it has, it acquires the status of common usage.
Such is the flexibility of language, English in particular. It is highly organic, a function, in no small part, of there being no standard-setter. English doesn't have academies as French and Spanish have to issue decrees as to standards. It is left to evolve, and one of its formerly de facto standard-setters, the BBC, is perfectly willing to allow it to.
There is a splendid article* on the BBC's website which looks at how the self-appointed arbiters have railed against supposedly bad English, be it grammar, punctuation, syntax or vocabulary. They range from Jonathan Swift in the early eighteenth century to a George Quinn in 2004. He suggested that someone who started a sentence with a conjunction should have been “appropriately beaten in grammar class”. For what it's worth, there is no "rule" barring the use of a conjunction at the start of sentence, though it shouldn't automatically be followed by a comma: conjunctions don't take one.
The article reveals the snobbery of these arbiters. For instance, Henry Watson Fowler, he of A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, referred to "barbaric" usages. Lynne Truss had her "moral weaklings". Correctness equates therefore to "moral propriety". Lack of correctness permits vulgarisms and barbarisms. Strewth!
It's not as though I'm wholly liberal on the subject. I have just used an exclamation mark, which I rarely do. So misused has it become that it appears to be an optional alternative to a full stop. Other beefs concern Americanisms. There again, American usage is a further indication of the inherent flexibility of English. Far from barbaric, language evolution is natural, a consequence in particular of internationalisation.
Which leads me to Spanish. There are all manner of Spanish words which have passed either directly or indirectly into English. Fiesta is an example of the former; potato of the latter. I advocate another, one which is commonly used in English here in Mallorca: "reform". The Spanish "reforma" means as it does in English when one talks, for example, of legislative reform. But English doesn't use reform for building work. One can re-form with a hyphen by changing a shape, but one cannot reform a kitchen or a whole building. I'm tempted to think that one should be able to, as it makes perfect sense. Reforming language; it never stands still.
* http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20170301-why-all-english-speakers-worry-about-slipping-up
Showing posts with label English. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Dancing In The English Rain: Eurovision
)
It is remarkable how certain subjects crop up at precisely the same time each year and have an almost unfathomable ability to generate some form of controversy. Nevertheless, their recurrence is a sign of cultural importance, and there is little that is more culturally important than the Eurovision Song Contest.
Last year - at this time - it was the UK creating the discussion and controversy. Was it right that a pop dinosaur like Bonnie Tyler should be dragged onto a soggy Welsh beach and appear to be sinking into the sand while gyrating unconvincingly for the video to promote "Believe In Me"? There was little to believe in, and Bonnie didn't disappoint, failing spectacularly when it came to the actual contest and so perpetuating a tradition of UK Eurovision disaster. This year it's Spain generating the controversy and, according to one critic at any rate, it is the fossils if not the dinosaurs of the Real Academia de la Lengua Española (RAE) who are at its centre.
So, what is the fuss all about? Ruth Lorenzo, that's what. Or rather, that's who. Ruth, those of you with long and detailed memories of "X Factor" will know, took part in the British talent show in 2008. She didn't do all that badly, getting as far as show eight before being ushered off stage. And being the British "X Factor", she did something that most people in Britain would have expected her to have done - she sang in English.
It is English that is proving to be controversial. Ruth sings in English. Actually, she sings part of the song - "Dancing In The Rain" - in Spanish and a part in English, the crucial part, i.e. the chorus, which is replete with repetition of "rain". Ruth can certainly hold a tune. No one has ever before belted out "rain" in such dramatic and regular fashion. If it is true that a song's chart success is partly a function of the number of times the title is repeated, then Ruth is on to a surefire winner, assuming, that is, that text voters in Serbia and Azerbaijan understand "rain".
Ruth secured victory on the show broadcast by the national broadcaster RTE over two weeks ago. That she sang partly in English didn't appear to bother anyone, certainly not the Spanish public who voted for her. Two weeks on, though, and the RAE has got involved and stoked the controversy. Some of its academics (not the RAE directly) have fired off a missive to RTE, expressing their "disquiet" at the intrusion of English and prompting RTE to say that a final decision has yet to be made as to whether Ruth will perform at Eurovision only in Spanish, only in English or in the Spanglish that got her to the final.
Why, though, are some of the academics agitated enough to send a letter to the broadcaster? It is not as if Spain hasn't had a Eurovision entry which is partly in English in the past; it has happened on five occasions previously. Is it because the academy senses that its role is being diminished?
Jaime Amador, the critic who has described the academy as a group of fossils, would argue that this is the reason. The academy, he says, adopts resolutions on language that interest nobody; it is the body which arbitrates on standard use of Spanish. He goes on to call the academy a "delusion", implying that it is out of touch with the real world, especially the one which attracts millions of tourists to Spain who aren't about to suddenly think that English is the language in Spain purely because part of a song at Eurovision is in English.
What he's getting at, other than intimating that the academy has become increasingly irrelevant, is that there are occasions when language becomes the cause of cultural navel-gazing. Eurovision isn't culturally important. Above all, it is or should be entertainment and not an exercise in nationalism or linguistic imperialism. It might offend some that English insinuates itself to the extent that it does, but this is a song contest for the "X Factor" era not a platform for promoting global Spanishness, which was how Franco was inclined to see it but also how the academy appears to perceive it. One of the justifications for the academics' "disquiet" is that messages have been received from some Latin American countries where they don't understand why English has been incorporated into the song. What's it got to do with Latin American countries? They can't vote in Eurovision.
We'll have to wait until the contest to find out what Ruth sings in, though one can be sure that it won't be Catalan, which would make for a far better controversy, and that the UK's young Bonnie for 2014, Molly Smitten-Downes, won't be singing in Spanish.
It is remarkable how certain subjects crop up at precisely the same time each year and have an almost unfathomable ability to generate some form of controversy. Nevertheless, their recurrence is a sign of cultural importance, and there is little that is more culturally important than the Eurovision Song Contest.
Last year - at this time - it was the UK creating the discussion and controversy. Was it right that a pop dinosaur like Bonnie Tyler should be dragged onto a soggy Welsh beach and appear to be sinking into the sand while gyrating unconvincingly for the video to promote "Believe In Me"? There was little to believe in, and Bonnie didn't disappoint, failing spectacularly when it came to the actual contest and so perpetuating a tradition of UK Eurovision disaster. This year it's Spain generating the controversy and, according to one critic at any rate, it is the fossils if not the dinosaurs of the Real Academia de la Lengua Española (RAE) who are at its centre.
So, what is the fuss all about? Ruth Lorenzo, that's what. Or rather, that's who. Ruth, those of you with long and detailed memories of "X Factor" will know, took part in the British talent show in 2008. She didn't do all that badly, getting as far as show eight before being ushered off stage. And being the British "X Factor", she did something that most people in Britain would have expected her to have done - she sang in English.
It is English that is proving to be controversial. Ruth sings in English. Actually, she sings part of the song - "Dancing In The Rain" - in Spanish and a part in English, the crucial part, i.e. the chorus, which is replete with repetition of "rain". Ruth can certainly hold a tune. No one has ever before belted out "rain" in such dramatic and regular fashion. If it is true that a song's chart success is partly a function of the number of times the title is repeated, then Ruth is on to a surefire winner, assuming, that is, that text voters in Serbia and Azerbaijan understand "rain".
Ruth secured victory on the show broadcast by the national broadcaster RTE over two weeks ago. That she sang partly in English didn't appear to bother anyone, certainly not the Spanish public who voted for her. Two weeks on, though, and the RAE has got involved and stoked the controversy. Some of its academics (not the RAE directly) have fired off a missive to RTE, expressing their "disquiet" at the intrusion of English and prompting RTE to say that a final decision has yet to be made as to whether Ruth will perform at Eurovision only in Spanish, only in English or in the Spanglish that got her to the final.
Why, though, are some of the academics agitated enough to send a letter to the broadcaster? It is not as if Spain hasn't had a Eurovision entry which is partly in English in the past; it has happened on five occasions previously. Is it because the academy senses that its role is being diminished?
Jaime Amador, the critic who has described the academy as a group of fossils, would argue that this is the reason. The academy, he says, adopts resolutions on language that interest nobody; it is the body which arbitrates on standard use of Spanish. He goes on to call the academy a "delusion", implying that it is out of touch with the real world, especially the one which attracts millions of tourists to Spain who aren't about to suddenly think that English is the language in Spain purely because part of a song at Eurovision is in English.
What he's getting at, other than intimating that the academy has become increasingly irrelevant, is that there are occasions when language becomes the cause of cultural navel-gazing. Eurovision isn't culturally important. Above all, it is or should be entertainment and not an exercise in nationalism or linguistic imperialism. It might offend some that English insinuates itself to the extent that it does, but this is a song contest for the "X Factor" era not a platform for promoting global Spanishness, which was how Franco was inclined to see it but also how the academy appears to perceive it. One of the justifications for the academics' "disquiet" is that messages have been received from some Latin American countries where they don't understand why English has been incorporated into the song. What's it got to do with Latin American countries? They can't vote in Eurovision.
We'll have to wait until the contest to find out what Ruth sings in, though one can be sure that it won't be Catalan, which would make for a far better controversy, and that the UK's young Bonnie for 2014, Molly Smitten-Downes, won't be singing in Spanish.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
A Relaxing Cup Of Café Con Leche
We should have expected the worse, let's be honest. All those residents of Madrid sitting around on bar terraces doing very little while some Andalusians were giving it large with some flamenco dancing and camera crews were milling about shooting footage to come up with a God-awful Olympics bid promo video. It wasn't the flamenco so much, though that, by tradition and origin, has nothing to do with Madrid, it was those lay-abouts on the terraces. What were they doing? Drinking relaxing cups of café con leche. This is why we should have expected the worse. In the end, however, it turned out to be even worse.
Ana Botella is the lady mayor of Madrid. Her surname means bottle. Her message to the ranks of the International Olympic Committee, their relatives, their friends, their mistresses and their, erm, contacts was one that should have remained firmly in the bottle. No one should have removed the stopper and let what was inside come out. Someone did, though.
The "relaxing cup of café con leche" has become an internet favourite. Señora Botella bottled it. She gave it a go but she should have kept it bottled. All of it. In English. Especially the "relaxing cup of café con leche". Some communications "expert", however, had the bright idea to train Ana in delivering the most important speech she would ever make and ensure that she sounded like a hyper-gushing Moldovan TV presenter enthusing about how amazing the Eurovision Song Contest was and whipping herself into a frenzy to announce that Romania had been awarded twelve points. "Oh." "Ah." "A relaxing cup of café con leche." "Oh." "Ah."
The café con leche should have nothing to do with the merits or otherwise of Madrid's bid. It shouldn't have even been mentioned of course, but it was. It still shouldn't have mattered, however, and much though apportioning blame for the bid debacle has fallen on Ana's hamming-up of English pronunciation and intonation, the blame is perfectly ludicrous. Madrid had lost the bid the moment they made that damn video.
Experts other than the communications expert, who can anticipate that his invoice (plus IVA) will now be filed in the bin, have dissected the English and body language performances of others who were hauled up in front of the IOC's invited guests and general freeloaders and made to demonstrate how well or not they had learned their presentation skills. Prince Felipe. What a star. Good English. Good assertive hand gestures, good eye contact (not that he was looking at anyone in particular), confident and amiable expression. Like the best man at a wedding who has the superior gags and remembers everyone's names and who should be allowed to do the bride's father's speech rather than letting the old man ramble on, forget everyone's name and then throw up, Felipe should have flown presentationally solo.
At least Ana gave it her best shot, though. Well actually, no she didn't. It was a shot but it couldn't be described as best as it wasn't even good. However, it was an awful lot better than Mariano. He came, he looked sheepish (as he always does), he mumbled. In Spanish. Nary a word in English. Good for him. No pandering to the bloody British while they're occupying the Peñón. What did he say, though? Even in Spanish. Very little. As one astute observer has commented, Mariano manages to say nothing in several languages.
Isn't this all a bit unfair, though? Why should there be an expectation that English should be needed at all or, if it is, that it might be anything more than dreadful? It shouldn't matter and, for Spanish commentators, it almost certainly wouldn't have mattered, had it not been for the massive great hole that Spanish politicians have dug for themselves in respect of language learning. English language learning. It's all very well them coming up with mad schemes to unleash teachers who have no grasp of the English language beyond that of John Cleese's hapless Manuel on a generation of schoolchildren, but they should lead from the front and show off their English prowess. Mariano doesn't, but then he doesn't even lead from behind.
It is unfair. Can Dave converse fluently in Spanish? Perhaps he can, but we know that Major, despite having been a frequent semi-resident in Spain for twenty years, can't even put two words together, let alone demand a "relaxing cup of café con leche". But then Major was never expected to go in front of the IOC and deliver a speech in Spanish. It would have been in English.
Ana Botella and her cup of coffee? Give the poor woman a break.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Ana Botella is the lady mayor of Madrid. Her surname means bottle. Her message to the ranks of the International Olympic Committee, their relatives, their friends, their mistresses and their, erm, contacts was one that should have remained firmly in the bottle. No one should have removed the stopper and let what was inside come out. Someone did, though.
The "relaxing cup of café con leche" has become an internet favourite. Señora Botella bottled it. She gave it a go but she should have kept it bottled. All of it. In English. Especially the "relaxing cup of café con leche". Some communications "expert", however, had the bright idea to train Ana in delivering the most important speech she would ever make and ensure that she sounded like a hyper-gushing Moldovan TV presenter enthusing about how amazing the Eurovision Song Contest was and whipping herself into a frenzy to announce that Romania had been awarded twelve points. "Oh." "Ah." "A relaxing cup of café con leche." "Oh." "Ah."
The café con leche should have nothing to do with the merits or otherwise of Madrid's bid. It shouldn't have even been mentioned of course, but it was. It still shouldn't have mattered, however, and much though apportioning blame for the bid debacle has fallen on Ana's hamming-up of English pronunciation and intonation, the blame is perfectly ludicrous. Madrid had lost the bid the moment they made that damn video.
Experts other than the communications expert, who can anticipate that his invoice (plus IVA) will now be filed in the bin, have dissected the English and body language performances of others who were hauled up in front of the IOC's invited guests and general freeloaders and made to demonstrate how well or not they had learned their presentation skills. Prince Felipe. What a star. Good English. Good assertive hand gestures, good eye contact (not that he was looking at anyone in particular), confident and amiable expression. Like the best man at a wedding who has the superior gags and remembers everyone's names and who should be allowed to do the bride's father's speech rather than letting the old man ramble on, forget everyone's name and then throw up, Felipe should have flown presentationally solo.
At least Ana gave it her best shot, though. Well actually, no she didn't. It was a shot but it couldn't be described as best as it wasn't even good. However, it was an awful lot better than Mariano. He came, he looked sheepish (as he always does), he mumbled. In Spanish. Nary a word in English. Good for him. No pandering to the bloody British while they're occupying the Peñón. What did he say, though? Even in Spanish. Very little. As one astute observer has commented, Mariano manages to say nothing in several languages.
Isn't this all a bit unfair, though? Why should there be an expectation that English should be needed at all or, if it is, that it might be anything more than dreadful? It shouldn't matter and, for Spanish commentators, it almost certainly wouldn't have mattered, had it not been for the massive great hole that Spanish politicians have dug for themselves in respect of language learning. English language learning. It's all very well them coming up with mad schemes to unleash teachers who have no grasp of the English language beyond that of John Cleese's hapless Manuel on a generation of schoolchildren, but they should lead from the front and show off their English prowess. Mariano doesn't, but then he doesn't even lead from behind.
It is unfair. Can Dave converse fluently in Spanish? Perhaps he can, but we know that Major, despite having been a frequent semi-resident in Spain for twenty years, can't even put two words together, let alone demand a "relaxing cup of café con leche". But then Major was never expected to go in front of the IOC and deliver a speech in Spanish. It would have been in English.
Ana Botella and her cup of coffee? Give the poor woman a break.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
The Balearic Government's Guide To English
"Flesh on the tenterhooks." This was an introduction some years ago to the peerless standards of translation to be found in all walks of Mallorcan life. It was on the business card of a restaurant, you'll be relieved to learn. It should have said something like "tender meat on ..."; well I don't really know on what, but whatever it was, it wasn't tenterhooks.
Back then, and it wasn't so long ago, lousy translations could be dismissed patronisingly as being typical of stupid Johnny Foreigner. Or it could be considered quaint and so also patronising; oh, it just all adds to the charm, doesn't it.
Actually, it didn't add to the charm. It was embarrassing, and the embarrassment was heightened when one learnt from the poor restaurant owner that the print agency responsible for the cards claimed to be proficient at translations. He didn't know any better. Until someone, i.e. me, told him that flesh (as opposed to meat) in a state of anxiety or nervous anticipation was not the type of advertisement to get the punter beating a path to the restaurant door.
Though it wasn't so long ago, it was in the days before the Google and Bing double-act took to the internet stage, plugged in their machines and performed translations for a worldwide audience which hitherto had been deprived of language understanding. Literal language understanding. Which isn't the same as proper language understanding.
The Balearic Government wishes to educate the children and youth of the islands in three languages (one of them being English). Its attempts at introducing this trilingualism have been ham-fisted, but is it any wonder when one considers the government's own attempts at English (and German and French)?
If you have never looked at the government's website English pages, then I recommend that you do. There are hours of endless amusement to be had, many of them to be spent deciphering the English amidst the Catalan words that simply refuse to be translated. The government has, belatedly, realised just how useless some of this translation is. At the foot of some pages, there is a note in red lettering: "automatic translation, sorry for the inconvenience". As, for instance on the "beginning" page of the ministry of education, culture and universities, there is a menu item inviting "help improvement to us the web", we should all feel duty-bound to help improvement to them the web in order to remove the inconvenience caused by automatic translation.
Cheap is the only explanation for this inconvenience. Actually, it isn't even cheap. It's free. Some bright spark has taken Catalan text, shoved it into Google and come up with ... . Come up with what exactly? So bad has some of this been that the Ibanat division of the environment ministry has been forced to take down its English (and German and French pages) which give literal translations for some place names.
Why were they even bothering to give translations of place names anyway? A place name is a place name. It doesn't need to be translated. There again, the Spanish show a peculiar enthusiasm for translating proper names. Hence, for example, the British royal family has an Isabel, a Felipe, a Guillermo and an Enrique. The British, on the other hand, leave such names well alone. When have you ever mistook the King of Spain for a one-time Leeds United footballer? You haven't. John Charles is not the King of Spain.
But, seemingly believing that proper names should be translated, Ibanat informed us as to the existence of, among other places, "Sleep Fortuny (sic)", "The House of Him Share-Cropper" and "Him Broken Bridge", the latter of which sounds like it was Tonto giving the Lone Ranger instructions.
Overseeing the drive towards trilingualism is Juana María Camps Bosch, now the minister for education. The people of the Balearics can have full confidence in Juana María's ability to drive this trilingualism. Just read the following. I need say no more.
"Juana María Camps Bosch (Citadel, 1965), was a general director of Work and Work Health of the Government of the Balearic Islands. She/It is discharged in law/right for the University of the Balearic Islands and estate agent, and since 1990 until June of 2011 he/she/it practised as lawyer in its/his/her/their office in Ciutadella. Between 1991 and 1999 it/he/she occupied several charges/posts in the Town Council of Ciutadella; in particular, she was lieutenant of batle of Treasury, Staff and Police and lieutenant of batle of Treasury. During these two years of legislature as a general director of Work and Work Health, it/he/she has promoted the relation|relationship with the social agents of the Islands; because of that, in November 2012 it constituted the Tripartite Social Board, formed by the Government, the employers and the unions, that he/she/it erects itself/himself/herself as/like the central organ of institutional participation/shareholding in the area of the Administration economic|economical and occupational of the Autonomous Community of the Balearic Islands, which/who substitutes the ancient|antique Board of Social Dialog. One of the most important successes of this legislature has been the implantation of the allowance in the foreseen Social Security for the companies dedicated to the touristic activities, to advance towards the desestacionalització of the economy/economics of the Islands. Thus, the touristic companies and the trades linked to the hotel business that discontinuous permanent workers have hired the months of March and November have been able to resort to this initiative. Juana María Camps has had the reduction in the work loss like one of the priorities. Because of that, it/he/she started off a campaign of work risks prevention, which includes numerous initiatives in this area, among/between which one specific almost for 600 companies of more than ten workers with a loss ratio superior/upper to the average of its/his/her/their sector, he/she/it col ·' laboració with the benefit societies of work and Inspection of Work. In 2012 the industrial accidents in the Balears brought one 17,8 down in relation to the former year and the lower figure of accidents was attained since 2004. On the other hand, Camps exercised/exerted its/his/her/their task of intermediation with success, with which it/he/she contributed to avoiding conflicts in the areas of the hotel business, the cleaning or the discretionary transport."
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
(Automatic translation, sorry for the inconvenience).
Back then, and it wasn't so long ago, lousy translations could be dismissed patronisingly as being typical of stupid Johnny Foreigner. Or it could be considered quaint and so also patronising; oh, it just all adds to the charm, doesn't it.
Actually, it didn't add to the charm. It was embarrassing, and the embarrassment was heightened when one learnt from the poor restaurant owner that the print agency responsible for the cards claimed to be proficient at translations. He didn't know any better. Until someone, i.e. me, told him that flesh (as opposed to meat) in a state of anxiety or nervous anticipation was not the type of advertisement to get the punter beating a path to the restaurant door.
Though it wasn't so long ago, it was in the days before the Google and Bing double-act took to the internet stage, plugged in their machines and performed translations for a worldwide audience which hitherto had been deprived of language understanding. Literal language understanding. Which isn't the same as proper language understanding.
The Balearic Government wishes to educate the children and youth of the islands in three languages (one of them being English). Its attempts at introducing this trilingualism have been ham-fisted, but is it any wonder when one considers the government's own attempts at English (and German and French)?
If you have never looked at the government's website English pages, then I recommend that you do. There are hours of endless amusement to be had, many of them to be spent deciphering the English amidst the Catalan words that simply refuse to be translated. The government has, belatedly, realised just how useless some of this translation is. At the foot of some pages, there is a note in red lettering: "automatic translation, sorry for the inconvenience". As, for instance on the "beginning" page of the ministry of education, culture and universities, there is a menu item inviting "help improvement to us the web", we should all feel duty-bound to help improvement to them the web in order to remove the inconvenience caused by automatic translation.
Cheap is the only explanation for this inconvenience. Actually, it isn't even cheap. It's free. Some bright spark has taken Catalan text, shoved it into Google and come up with ... . Come up with what exactly? So bad has some of this been that the Ibanat division of the environment ministry has been forced to take down its English (and German and French pages) which give literal translations for some place names.
Why were they even bothering to give translations of place names anyway? A place name is a place name. It doesn't need to be translated. There again, the Spanish show a peculiar enthusiasm for translating proper names. Hence, for example, the British royal family has an Isabel, a Felipe, a Guillermo and an Enrique. The British, on the other hand, leave such names well alone. When have you ever mistook the King of Spain for a one-time Leeds United footballer? You haven't. John Charles is not the King of Spain.
But, seemingly believing that proper names should be translated, Ibanat informed us as to the existence of, among other places, "Sleep Fortuny (sic)", "The House of Him Share-Cropper" and "Him Broken Bridge", the latter of which sounds like it was Tonto giving the Lone Ranger instructions.
Overseeing the drive towards trilingualism is Juana María Camps Bosch, now the minister for education. The people of the Balearics can have full confidence in Juana María's ability to drive this trilingualism. Just read the following. I need say no more.
"Juana María Camps Bosch (Citadel, 1965), was a general director of Work and Work Health of the Government of the Balearic Islands. She/It is discharged in law/right for the University of the Balearic Islands and estate agent, and since 1990 until June of 2011 he/she/it practised as lawyer in its/his/her/their office in Ciutadella. Between 1991 and 1999 it/he/she occupied several charges/posts in the Town Council of Ciutadella; in particular, she was lieutenant of batle of Treasury, Staff and Police and lieutenant of batle of Treasury. During these two years of legislature as a general director of Work and Work Health, it/he/she has promoted the relation|relationship with the social agents of the Islands; because of that, in November 2012 it constituted the Tripartite Social Board, formed by the Government, the employers and the unions, that he/she/it erects itself/himself/herself as/like the central organ of institutional participation/shareholding in the area of the Administration economic|economical and occupational of the Autonomous Community of the Balearic Islands, which/who substitutes the ancient|antique Board of Social Dialog. One of the most important successes of this legislature has been the implantation of the allowance in the foreseen Social Security for the companies dedicated to the touristic activities, to advance towards the desestacionalització of the economy/economics of the Islands. Thus, the touristic companies and the trades linked to the hotel business that discontinuous permanent workers have hired the months of March and November have been able to resort to this initiative. Juana María Camps has had the reduction in the work loss like one of the priorities. Because of that, it/he/she started off a campaign of work risks prevention, which includes numerous initiatives in this area, among/between which one specific almost for 600 companies of more than ten workers with a loss ratio superior/upper to the average of its/his/her/their sector, he/she/it col ·' laboració with the benefit societies of work and Inspection of Work. In 2012 the industrial accidents in the Balears brought one 17,8 down in relation to the former year and the lower figure of accidents was attained since 2004. On the other hand, Camps exercised/exerted its/his/her/their task of intermediation with success, with which it/he/she contributed to avoiding conflicts in the areas of the hotel business, the cleaning or the discretionary transport."
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
(Automatic translation, sorry for the inconvenience).
Friday, November 11, 2011
English Speakers: Mayors and town halls
"Mayor Talks To British Community". This shock-horror headline hasn't appeared, but should have. A mayor going along and talking to a bunch of Brits in a Brit-owned bar. Whatever next?
The mayor in question was Tommy Cifre. Two Tommy Cifres, there are only two Tommy Cifres present among Pollensa town hall's cadre of councillors, but only one can be mayor, and it isn't the one from the Mallorcan socialists. The mayor came, he spoke in a sort of English and conquered those who were concerned about the quality of the tap water.
It's not, however, that you expect him to be perfect in English. Why should he be? Some Mallorcan politicians can apparently do English reasonably well. President Bauzá, or so it has been reported, impressed tour operators and others at a World Travel Market lunch with the "fluency" of his English. One who didn't, it would seem, was the Mallorcan Joan Mesquida, who is only of course the national government's tourism secretary and formerly the tourism minister. You can't have someone able to communicate effectively with representatives from one of Spain's principal tourism markets; that would just be pointless.
But it doesn't matter because there are always interpreters and translators. Mesquida may be able to call on such services, but the town halls can't necessarily. Take Alcúdia, for instance. A while back I received an email asking if I could put into serviceable English the Spanish description of the Roman town. Sure I could, and did, and sent it back with a note asking where I should send my invoice. Not that I seriously anticipated a positive response; and so I was therefore not disappointed to receive no response.
Though Alcúdia town hall now has a superbly scripted English explanation of Pollentia and the monographic museum, is it right that it should get one gratis and as a favour? Seemingly it is, and I hope all the British and English-speaking tourists are grateful. But is it also right that there appears not to be anyone actually employed or contracted (and paid accordingly) who can do English properly? And I do mean properly and not just in a somewhat better than putting a translation through Google fashion.
I don't expect mayors to speak English. It was good of Cifre to give it a reasonable crack, therefore. In many Mallorcan municipalities, ability in English or another main foreign language would be almost completely unnecessary, but in towns such as Alcúdia and Pollensa - especially Pollensa - then I do expect some decent English; not by the mayor but through the systems of communication that exist. Ten per cent of Pollensa's resident population is British; the town has an overwhelmingly British tourism market.
The counter-argument is, of course, that all these Brits should damn well learn the lingo, always assuming we know which lingo is being referred to; and in the now Partido Popular-dominated Pollensa town hall it is still stubbornly Catalan. But dream on; most will never learn the native sufficiently well and certainly not sufficiently well to engage in the political process.
A mayor coming to speak to the British community (and it must be said that it was more than just the Brits) is an aspect of this process. A question about tap water may sound trivial in the scheme of things, but in fact it isn't; town halls do, after all, have legal responsibilities for sanitation.
But more than this, and this is where the whole argument about voting rights for expatriates tends to founder, is the fact that if communication is not understandable, then how can expatriates ever be expected to be anything like fully engaged in the process over and above a small minority that takes an interest regardless of the language? Ahead of the local elections in May, in which expatriates were entitled to vote, where were the communications in relevant languages? Perhaps there were in certain municipalities, but I was unaware of any.
Depending on municipality, Mallorca should display a multi-lingualism that reflects the realities of its population. English and German, probably French and Arabic; these might be considered the essential additional languages. Such reality is coming to be accepted; in Pollensa I know that local parties, and not just Cifre's PP, are keen to engage with the English-speaking population. So they should.
It's easy to dismiss expats as being uninterested in local politics. Many are, but many are not, especially at the local level. For a mayor as engaging as Tommy Cifre to come along and engage the Brits - in English - took some balls. He may have ballsed up his English, but so what? He made the effort.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
The mayor in question was Tommy Cifre. Two Tommy Cifres, there are only two Tommy Cifres present among Pollensa town hall's cadre of councillors, but only one can be mayor, and it isn't the one from the Mallorcan socialists. The mayor came, he spoke in a sort of English and conquered those who were concerned about the quality of the tap water.
It's not, however, that you expect him to be perfect in English. Why should he be? Some Mallorcan politicians can apparently do English reasonably well. President Bauzá, or so it has been reported, impressed tour operators and others at a World Travel Market lunch with the "fluency" of his English. One who didn't, it would seem, was the Mallorcan Joan Mesquida, who is only of course the national government's tourism secretary and formerly the tourism minister. You can't have someone able to communicate effectively with representatives from one of Spain's principal tourism markets; that would just be pointless.
But it doesn't matter because there are always interpreters and translators. Mesquida may be able to call on such services, but the town halls can't necessarily. Take Alcúdia, for instance. A while back I received an email asking if I could put into serviceable English the Spanish description of the Roman town. Sure I could, and did, and sent it back with a note asking where I should send my invoice. Not that I seriously anticipated a positive response; and so I was therefore not disappointed to receive no response.
Though Alcúdia town hall now has a superbly scripted English explanation of Pollentia and the monographic museum, is it right that it should get one gratis and as a favour? Seemingly it is, and I hope all the British and English-speaking tourists are grateful. But is it also right that there appears not to be anyone actually employed or contracted (and paid accordingly) who can do English properly? And I do mean properly and not just in a somewhat better than putting a translation through Google fashion.
I don't expect mayors to speak English. It was good of Cifre to give it a reasonable crack, therefore. In many Mallorcan municipalities, ability in English or another main foreign language would be almost completely unnecessary, but in towns such as Alcúdia and Pollensa - especially Pollensa - then I do expect some decent English; not by the mayor but through the systems of communication that exist. Ten per cent of Pollensa's resident population is British; the town has an overwhelmingly British tourism market.
The counter-argument is, of course, that all these Brits should damn well learn the lingo, always assuming we know which lingo is being referred to; and in the now Partido Popular-dominated Pollensa town hall it is still stubbornly Catalan. But dream on; most will never learn the native sufficiently well and certainly not sufficiently well to engage in the political process.
A mayor coming to speak to the British community (and it must be said that it was more than just the Brits) is an aspect of this process. A question about tap water may sound trivial in the scheme of things, but in fact it isn't; town halls do, after all, have legal responsibilities for sanitation.
But more than this, and this is where the whole argument about voting rights for expatriates tends to founder, is the fact that if communication is not understandable, then how can expatriates ever be expected to be anything like fully engaged in the process over and above a small minority that takes an interest regardless of the language? Ahead of the local elections in May, in which expatriates were entitled to vote, where were the communications in relevant languages? Perhaps there were in certain municipalities, but I was unaware of any.
Depending on municipality, Mallorca should display a multi-lingualism that reflects the realities of its population. English and German, probably French and Arabic; these might be considered the essential additional languages. Such reality is coming to be accepted; in Pollensa I know that local parties, and not just Cifre's PP, are keen to engage with the English-speaking population. So they should.
It's easy to dismiss expats as being uninterested in local politics. Many are, but many are not, especially at the local level. For a mayor as engaging as Tommy Cifre to come along and engage the Brits - in English - took some balls. He may have ballsed up his English, but so what? He made the effort.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The State We're In: Language
Should Mallorcan businesses get it right? Get English right? It was once put to me that it didn't matter and that mangled English was just all part of the charm. Possibly so, but possibly it is also a case of being lazy or of mistake reinforcing mistake.
There are any number of English speakers knocking around who might help a restaurant, a shop, an event, an estate agency from making a language gaffe. Are any ever asked to give a menu, some instructions, a sign the once-over, just to be sure? Some are, but there are plenty of businesses who still manage to mangle English. All part of the charm perhaps, but there is charm and there is being professional.
Recently, we had the priceless "rules" set out by the Pollensa Music Festival, under which, among other things, it was not allowed "to enter any type of container nor devices of telephony". We know what they were getting at, but a little bit of attention might have eliminated the potential for confusion or indeed hilarity.
There have been some wonderful mistakes that I have encountered over the years. A personal favourite remains the "flesh on the tenterhooks" of a grill restaurant. The owner said that the printers who had been responsible for the translation had insisted that they could do the English correctly. Which may be part of the problem; that of non-native speakers who fall into the language trap.
"Flesh on the tenterhooks" was, one presumed, meant to be something along the lines of tender meat, but it came out as sounding like an act of torture by the Inquisition. Tenterhooks, for the record, have nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with stretching cloth.
Making a complete balls-up has arguably been made more likely thanks to the Google translator and other machine translation systems. And when it comes to idioms and slang terms, of which there are an awful lot in English, such systems are almost completely useless.
Some mistakes, however, just keep on getting repeated. And a prime example is the "state agency"; not an agency of the state, but an estate agency. You can find many states that appear to be being traded by state agencies which should in fact be estate agencies.
A new sign appeared at one estate agency the other day, replete with the same old mistake. But why does it keep being made? Has no one ever pointed the mistake out? My guess is that "state" is so common that it is thought to be correct, not least by signmakers who will insist that it is correct as they have been in this state for years.
Proper names can also be problematic. In certain cases, they always have been. In Puerto Alcúdia, the recent fire at an apartment block caused a bit of a problem as to how it should be reported. The apartments have always lacked one letter. Who originally took the "p" out of the Mississipi (sic)? The same person possibly who didn't see the "c" in the Picadilly (sic) bar. Has anyone ever noticed the missing "n" that means that the Britania (sic) bar doesn't rule the waves? (The missing "p" might be put down to being Spanish, but then in Spanish there would be a missing "s" as well - twice over; Picadilly and Britania are Spanish, but their markets have been British.)
Not that these probably matter. Test your average Brit tourist and, nine times out of ten, he wouldn't know how to spell them anyway. And it's certainly not as though the language trap doesn't work in reverse or that borrowing from Spanish doesn't come into play.
Pop along to your nearest state agency, or preferably estate agency, and you might find a property that takes your fancy. However, the state agent tells you that it is in need of reform. Has it been a naughty boy? Is it to have its law changed? The widespread use of reform to mean altering a building in some way isn't, strictly speaking, correct usage. Incorrect or not, it is a good example of a word whose meaning has been borrowed from Spanish that, because of its generality, works rather better than correct English alternatives.
And the property needing reform might well be in an urbanisation, another specific adaptation from the Spanish to mean an estate, or should it be a state? Once reformed, the property may well become "perfect", states of perfection being more widely expressed by "perfecto" Spaniards and therefore also now by English-speaking adopters.
To answer my initial question though. Tell me. Should they get it right? Go on, tell me. I command you. The abrupt, somewhat impolite use of this imperative is something else that has passed from Spanish. "Digame". Tell me.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
There are any number of English speakers knocking around who might help a restaurant, a shop, an event, an estate agency from making a language gaffe. Are any ever asked to give a menu, some instructions, a sign the once-over, just to be sure? Some are, but there are plenty of businesses who still manage to mangle English. All part of the charm perhaps, but there is charm and there is being professional.
Recently, we had the priceless "rules" set out by the Pollensa Music Festival, under which, among other things, it was not allowed "to enter any type of container nor devices of telephony". We know what they were getting at, but a little bit of attention might have eliminated the potential for confusion or indeed hilarity.
There have been some wonderful mistakes that I have encountered over the years. A personal favourite remains the "flesh on the tenterhooks" of a grill restaurant. The owner said that the printers who had been responsible for the translation had insisted that they could do the English correctly. Which may be part of the problem; that of non-native speakers who fall into the language trap.
"Flesh on the tenterhooks" was, one presumed, meant to be something along the lines of tender meat, but it came out as sounding like an act of torture by the Inquisition. Tenterhooks, for the record, have nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with stretching cloth.
Making a complete balls-up has arguably been made more likely thanks to the Google translator and other machine translation systems. And when it comes to idioms and slang terms, of which there are an awful lot in English, such systems are almost completely useless.
Some mistakes, however, just keep on getting repeated. And a prime example is the "state agency"; not an agency of the state, but an estate agency. You can find many states that appear to be being traded by state agencies which should in fact be estate agencies.
A new sign appeared at one estate agency the other day, replete with the same old mistake. But why does it keep being made? Has no one ever pointed the mistake out? My guess is that "state" is so common that it is thought to be correct, not least by signmakers who will insist that it is correct as they have been in this state for years.
Proper names can also be problematic. In certain cases, they always have been. In Puerto Alcúdia, the recent fire at an apartment block caused a bit of a problem as to how it should be reported. The apartments have always lacked one letter. Who originally took the "p" out of the Mississipi (sic)? The same person possibly who didn't see the "c" in the Picadilly (sic) bar. Has anyone ever noticed the missing "n" that means that the Britania (sic) bar doesn't rule the waves? (The missing "p" might be put down to being Spanish, but then in Spanish there would be a missing "s" as well - twice over; Picadilly and Britania are Spanish, but their markets have been British.)
Not that these probably matter. Test your average Brit tourist and, nine times out of ten, he wouldn't know how to spell them anyway. And it's certainly not as though the language trap doesn't work in reverse or that borrowing from Spanish doesn't come into play.
Pop along to your nearest state agency, or preferably estate agency, and you might find a property that takes your fancy. However, the state agent tells you that it is in need of reform. Has it been a naughty boy? Is it to have its law changed? The widespread use of reform to mean altering a building in some way isn't, strictly speaking, correct usage. Incorrect or not, it is a good example of a word whose meaning has been borrowed from Spanish that, because of its generality, works rather better than correct English alternatives.
And the property needing reform might well be in an urbanisation, another specific adaptation from the Spanish to mean an estate, or should it be a state? Once reformed, the property may well become "perfect", states of perfection being more widely expressed by "perfecto" Spaniards and therefore also now by English-speaking adopters.
To answer my initial question though. Tell me. Should they get it right? Go on, tell me. I command you. The abrupt, somewhat impolite use of this imperative is something else that has passed from Spanish. "Digame". Tell me.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Monday, July 04, 2011
Language Rules: Don't enter containers!
"All concerts will start punctually at 22:00 hours."
So far not so bad. Bit of a problem with "22:00 hours" and the rather direct tone, which makes it sound like a police report, but then this is all part of the "rules", as will become evident.
"The entry will only be allowed in their precinct in the rest among the pieces of the program, if there is some."
Erm, now things get a tad awkward. We have a definite article "the entry" where a definite article is not required. We also have a "program" that can normally only be a "program" if it is American or a piece of software. We also have a totally meaningless sentence. If there is some what, exactly?
"The persons foreign to the organization can not make pictures, nor filming or enregistramens."
Ok, so the persons are presumably in fact people, as, and again a bit like police reports, persons are not generally the correct plural form. And who are these persons? They're foreigners. Is this right? From abroad. Tourists perhaps. Whoever they are, they "can not" where normally they "cannot" take pictures and then ... then we get a bit lost. The foreigners cannot make "enregistramens". Let me help out. It is in fact Catalan for recordings.
"It is not allowed to smoke in the inside of the courtyard of the Cloister, nor the use of ranges or similar. It is not allowed either to enter any type of container nor devices of telephony."
Right, so I think we get the bit about not smoking, but the use of these ranges or indeed similar. Where is this all going? And then it becomes a guessing game. What containers are there in the Cloister (I assume we are talking about the Cloister)? One is not, for example, allowed to enter a rubbish container or a skip. Is this what is meant? Entering a device of telephony would be some feat. Don't know about you, but I have never tried to physically get inside a mobile phone.
"The entry/ticket of those persons who use a non appropriate wardrobe in relation/relationship to/in the act will not be allowed."
Hmm. So someone or some persons come along with a wardrobe that is, oh I don't know, is it from IKEA perhaps? If it were from the grand El Corte Inglés department store would this be appropriate? The police report seems to have returned as well. Persons or persons unknown in a non appropriate (should of course be inappropriate) wardrobe and being caught in the act. Fine, it's becoming clearer. If you're caught in the act with your inappropriate wardrobe, then you are not allowed. Allowed to do what? Or allowed in maybe? Yep, I think it's allowed in.
Look, I could go on with all of this, but I imagine you have got the drift by now. This mangling of the English language comes from the ominously presented "General Rules" for the Pollensa Music Festival. Actually getting to these rules is a challenge in itself. Go to the website for the festival and the home page is that from 2010, so you might be inclined to give up. But if you click English, you come to 2011 and eventually to the rules.
There are several points about all this. One is that the publicity is still so poor that they haven't got round to changing the home page. The second is the sheer pomposity of some of these "rules", assuming you can understand them. They just go to reinforce what I have said about the limited appeal of the festival. They are designed to deter not to attract. And thirdly, there is of course the fact that the English is total gobbledegook.
This is an international event. Allegedly. English is the usual international language. Why on earth can't they find someone - from Britain or another English-speaking country, of whom there are many knocking around Pollensa - to spend a few minutes translating the Klingon that has been provided into English? Probably because they might have to pay someone, and they haven't got any money. It is, however, a dreadful indictment. You can understand a restaurant getting its English cocked up (actually you can't understand, because they could also get a native-speaker to give it the once-over), but this is a bloody music festival. Prestigious, so they say. The most prestigious in Mallorca. They're having a laugh.
You despair, you really do despair.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
So far not so bad. Bit of a problem with "22:00 hours" and the rather direct tone, which makes it sound like a police report, but then this is all part of the "rules", as will become evident.
"The entry will only be allowed in their precinct in the rest among the pieces of the program, if there is some."
Erm, now things get a tad awkward. We have a definite article "the entry" where a definite article is not required. We also have a "program" that can normally only be a "program" if it is American or a piece of software. We also have a totally meaningless sentence. If there is some what, exactly?
"The persons foreign to the organization can not make pictures, nor filming or enregistramens."
Ok, so the persons are presumably in fact people, as, and again a bit like police reports, persons are not generally the correct plural form. And who are these persons? They're foreigners. Is this right? From abroad. Tourists perhaps. Whoever they are, they "can not" where normally they "cannot" take pictures and then ... then we get a bit lost. The foreigners cannot make "enregistramens". Let me help out. It is in fact Catalan for recordings.
"It is not allowed to smoke in the inside of the courtyard of the Cloister, nor the use of ranges or similar. It is not allowed either to enter any type of container nor devices of telephony."
Right, so I think we get the bit about not smoking, but the use of these ranges or indeed similar. Where is this all going? And then it becomes a guessing game. What containers are there in the Cloister (I assume we are talking about the Cloister)? One is not, for example, allowed to enter a rubbish container or a skip. Is this what is meant? Entering a device of telephony would be some feat. Don't know about you, but I have never tried to physically get inside a mobile phone.
"The entry/ticket of those persons who use a non appropriate wardrobe in relation/relationship to/in the act will not be allowed."
Hmm. So someone or some persons come along with a wardrobe that is, oh I don't know, is it from IKEA perhaps? If it were from the grand El Corte Inglés department store would this be appropriate? The police report seems to have returned as well. Persons or persons unknown in a non appropriate (should of course be inappropriate) wardrobe and being caught in the act. Fine, it's becoming clearer. If you're caught in the act with your inappropriate wardrobe, then you are not allowed. Allowed to do what? Or allowed in maybe? Yep, I think it's allowed in.
Look, I could go on with all of this, but I imagine you have got the drift by now. This mangling of the English language comes from the ominously presented "General Rules" for the Pollensa Music Festival. Actually getting to these rules is a challenge in itself. Go to the website for the festival and the home page is that from 2010, so you might be inclined to give up. But if you click English, you come to 2011 and eventually to the rules.
There are several points about all this. One is that the publicity is still so poor that they haven't got round to changing the home page. The second is the sheer pomposity of some of these "rules", assuming you can understand them. They just go to reinforce what I have said about the limited appeal of the festival. They are designed to deter not to attract. And thirdly, there is of course the fact that the English is total gobbledegook.
This is an international event. Allegedly. English is the usual international language. Why on earth can't they find someone - from Britain or another English-speaking country, of whom there are many knocking around Pollensa - to spend a few minutes translating the Klingon that has been provided into English? Probably because they might have to pay someone, and they haven't got any money. It is, however, a dreadful indictment. You can understand a restaurant getting its English cocked up (actually you can't understand, because they could also get a native-speaker to give it the once-over), but this is a bloody music festival. Prestigious, so they say. The most prestigious in Mallorca. They're having a laugh.
You despair, you really do despair.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Tiddly-Om-Pom-Pom
Strolling along the prom, the brass bands playing tiddly-om-pom-pom.
Funnily enough, you do get brass bands, sort of, on the proms. During fiestas the local music bands are dragged out - lots of brass, lots of bugles and banging of drums. They're not quite the prom of British summers past, but they'll do.
Proms. As in promenades and not the last night thereof. Elsewhere, on Holiday Truths to be precise, someone was asking about proms. Alcúdia and Puerto Pollensa were mentioned.
First things first. Why is that people rarely refer to Puerto Alcúdia? It's always just Alcúdia. They are, strictly speaking, two different places. Hardly anyone ever refers to Puerto Pollensa as Pollensa, correctly making the distinction. I suppose it's all down to the distance factor, or the absence of distance where Alcúdia and its port are concerned.
But to return to proms, someone replied that while Alcúdia has a flat prom (aren't all proms flat?), it is more "Englished" by comparison with Puerto Pollensa. Whether the Englished referred to the prom or to the whole of Alcúdia was not clear, but let's just consider this English angle, which I will expand to be British.
If you take the proms alone, those of Puertos Alcúdia and Pollensa, can either be described as British (or Englished)? Go on, can they? Between the two of them I can think of only very few establishments that are British or quasi-British. Oceano in Puerto Alcúdia, but slip an "o" on the end of ocean and you get something un-British. No Frills in Puerto Pollensa possibly, but that's half-Mallorcan, while Seamus is from Donegal; not a lot of Britishness there, except in terms of British Isles.
No, there is little or nothing British/Englished about either prom.
Broaden the concept to embrace the whole of the resorts, and what does one then get? In the ports of Alcúdia and Pollensa, there are similar numbers of British bars. There are similar numbers of British supermarkets - one per port. Only as you head off Mile way, does the Britishness really start to kick in. But hang on a minute. Granted there are a whole load of Brit tourists, granted there are a number of Brit bars, but there are an awful lot of non-Brits. Alcúdia is extraordinarily cosmopolitan; its tourism profile is that diverse that most of Europe is represented. The same cannot be said for Puerto Pollensa. What can be said is, for example, that "Bild" once famously warned its German readership from going anywhere near Puerto Pollensa because it was a "well-known English holiday citadel" (4 June 2008, "Hans Plays With Lotte"). It didn't say anything about Alcúdia, or even Puerto Alcúdia. Puerto Pollensa is so British, it has acquired the flavour of an Eastbourne. There should be more brass bands on the prom, prom, prom in Puerto P.
Ok, I know what was meant, and at least the weak old Alcúdia is like Blackpool line wasn't hauled out again. But let's compare like for like, which means comparing port with port. There's very little difference, except for the fact that Puerto Pollensa is vastly more British - one can't say "Englished" because of all the Jocks - but more British it most certainly is.
On the HOT! Facebook, there is a youtube of Bad Manners doing "I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside" (something of a coincidence as the group is playing the ReggaeSkaFest in Alcúdia today), but here is a different performance. From 1939, Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes sings "I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside". Take it away, Baz:
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Funnily enough, you do get brass bands, sort of, on the proms. During fiestas the local music bands are dragged out - lots of brass, lots of bugles and banging of drums. They're not quite the prom of British summers past, but they'll do.
Proms. As in promenades and not the last night thereof. Elsewhere, on Holiday Truths to be precise, someone was asking about proms. Alcúdia and Puerto Pollensa were mentioned.
First things first. Why is that people rarely refer to Puerto Alcúdia? It's always just Alcúdia. They are, strictly speaking, two different places. Hardly anyone ever refers to Puerto Pollensa as Pollensa, correctly making the distinction. I suppose it's all down to the distance factor, or the absence of distance where Alcúdia and its port are concerned.
But to return to proms, someone replied that while Alcúdia has a flat prom (aren't all proms flat?), it is more "Englished" by comparison with Puerto Pollensa. Whether the Englished referred to the prom or to the whole of Alcúdia was not clear, but let's just consider this English angle, which I will expand to be British.
If you take the proms alone, those of Puertos Alcúdia and Pollensa, can either be described as British (or Englished)? Go on, can they? Between the two of them I can think of only very few establishments that are British or quasi-British. Oceano in Puerto Alcúdia, but slip an "o" on the end of ocean and you get something un-British. No Frills in Puerto Pollensa possibly, but that's half-Mallorcan, while Seamus is from Donegal; not a lot of Britishness there, except in terms of British Isles.
No, there is little or nothing British/Englished about either prom.
Broaden the concept to embrace the whole of the resorts, and what does one then get? In the ports of Alcúdia and Pollensa, there are similar numbers of British bars. There are similar numbers of British supermarkets - one per port. Only as you head off Mile way, does the Britishness really start to kick in. But hang on a minute. Granted there are a whole load of Brit tourists, granted there are a number of Brit bars, but there are an awful lot of non-Brits. Alcúdia is extraordinarily cosmopolitan; its tourism profile is that diverse that most of Europe is represented. The same cannot be said for Puerto Pollensa. What can be said is, for example, that "Bild" once famously warned its German readership from going anywhere near Puerto Pollensa because it was a "well-known English holiday citadel" (4 June 2008, "Hans Plays With Lotte"). It didn't say anything about Alcúdia, or even Puerto Alcúdia. Puerto Pollensa is so British, it has acquired the flavour of an Eastbourne. There should be more brass bands on the prom, prom, prom in Puerto P.
Ok, I know what was meant, and at least the weak old Alcúdia is like Blackpool line wasn't hauled out again. But let's compare like for like, which means comparing port with port. There's very little difference, except for the fact that Puerto Pollensa is vastly more British - one can't say "Englished" because of all the Jocks - but more British it most certainly is.
On the HOT! Facebook, there is a youtube of Bad Manners doing "I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside" (something of a coincidence as the group is playing the ReggaeSkaFest in Alcúdia today), but here is a different performance. From 1939, Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes sings "I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside". Take it away, Baz:
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
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