Thursday, January 30, 2020

What Does Shakespeare Say? Birthday


            Birthdays happen. It’s a fact of life. They pile up like dirty laundry, and like dirty laundry, birthdays are going to keep on happening, regardless of how many loads you wash. Recently, I was perusing birthday cards to send to some of my numerous friends and family who have had birthdays recently when the question popped into my mind—what does Shakespeare say about birthdays?

Elf and Hermia at a basset birthday party.
Part 1: What does Shakespeare say about birthdays?
            Since my print concordance to the works of Shakespeare lives at Schroon Lake, I consulted the on-line Concordance of Shakespeare’s complete works. There, I found that Shakespeare mentions “birth-days” three times in his works: in Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra, and Pericles.
            The earliest mention is in Julius Caesar, written around 1599 to 1600. At the beginning of Act 5, before heading into battle, Cassius says, “Messala/ This is my birth-day; as this very day/ Was Cassius born.” (5.1.74-6) After this astute definition of “birth-day,” Cassius goes on to observe that even though it is his “birth-day,” he is compelled to “set/ Upon one battle” (5.1.78-9)—not most people’s first choice of how to spend a birthday. Many workplaces grant employees a day off for their birthday, but the valiant Cassius chooses to forge ahead into battle. Unfortunately for Cassius, due to some misinformation about battle results, he dies—not the best outcome for a “birth-day.”
Little did Shakespeare know when he penned Julius Caesar that he himself would die on his birthday, April 23, 1616, at the tender age of 52. Mystery surrounds Shakespeare’s cause of death. My favorite theory involves a probable birthday celebration. Sometime around 1610, Shakespeare retired from the London theatre scene and returned to Stratford-upon-Avon. Occasionally, he would return on horseback to London, a journey of about 100 miles, to visit his friends. One theory holds that Shakespeare rode to London in April--a cold, rainy time of year— for birthday celebrations, caught a cold, and died. I like to believe that Shakespeare died from partying with his chums.
The next mention of “birth-days” comes in Antony and Cleopatra, written around1606 to 1607. Near the end of Act 3, Antony and Cleopatra are embroiled in a lover’s quarrel yet again. Antony gets over a fit of jealousy to reunite with Cleopatra. She announces, “It is my birth-day/ I had thought to have held it poor.” (3.13.188-90) However, much to her pleasant surprise, she can celebrate happily because Antony has come back to her. And celebrate they do. Yet, the end of that story is not a happy one, either.
The final mention of “birth-days” appears in Pericles, written around 1608 to 1609 near the end of Shakespeare’s career. Pericles must flee his homeland. The ship carrying him wrecks and he is cast ashore. He runs across three fishermen, who tell him he is in Pentapolis. One fisherman informs Pericles that the king is Simonides, “and I’ll tell you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her birth-day; and there are princes and knights come from all parts of the world to [joust] and tourney for her love.” (2.1.108-12) What a party! Ultimately, Pericles wins the girl. I will simply leave the story there, as they do not live happily ever after.
On the whole, the picture Shakespeare paints of “birth-days” is not a happy one. He depicts war and death and lovers’ quarrels during politically tenuous times. He depicts a woman held up as a prize on her birthday although the initial outcome is happy. It is too bad that Shakespeare does not portray a “birth-day” somewhere in one of his comedies. Maybe in As You Like It, in the Forest of Arden Shakespeare could throw Jacques a birth-day party to cheer him up. Or maybe in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Oberon could orchestrate a birth-day party in the woods to ease the tension among the four young lovers.
Whenever your birthday falls, I wish you a happy, healthy one, in spite of how Shakespeare presents “birth-days”!

Part 2: The word itself (brief version)
If you are not a big fan of etymology, you may want to stop reading now. However, you never know what fun-filled trivia you might pick up for when you finally make it onto Jeopardy! or for trivia night at the local pub or for enlivening boring parties or for scaring away uninteresting dates or even telemarketers. It captured my imagination to see that Shakespeare spelled “birthday” with a hyphen. I did a little digging in my Oxford English Dictionary (OED), to find that in the earliest usages, “birthday” was not a compound word but two separate words, birth day, day of birth. Shakespeare is among the first writers to use the hyphenated form, “birth-day.” Finally, around 1755 the word became the compound “birthday” that we use today.

Part 3: The word itself (if you are still reading)
            In examining the etymology of “birthday” in order to understand why Shakespeare may have hyphenated the word, I researched hyphen usage. “The Punctuation Guide” discusses three types of compound terms: open, hyphenated, and closed. Open compound terms are those such as “printing press” in which the adjective, “printing,” is necessary to convey the full meaning of the noun, “press”, denoting a press that transfers images to paper. A press in itself could be any number of items, such as a garlic press. “Birth day” in early usage was an open compound. The words were dating but not committed.
            Hyphenated compounds, such as “eye-opener,” make a stronger connection between the noun and its modifier. In this instance, the two words are cohabitating but not yet married. With “printing press,” we can take the modifier “printing” away from the noun “press.” They can date other words. In hyphenated compounds, the modifier is not going anywhere. The hyphen is a betrothal.
            In closed compounds, such as “bookstore,” the marriage is complete. Unless you come to the end of a written line and need to hyphenate onto the following line, the modifier is there. The union has been formally sanctioned.
            As an added complication in the history, William Caxton did not introduce the printing press into England until 1476. For perspective, Shakespeare was born in 1564, so he began writing less than 100 years after the printing press first appeared in England. Shakespeare wrote for the theatre. He composed all of his plays by hand. He did not write for publication. Later, others decided to print his plays. Therefore, spelling was not a major concern of his. One of the many glorious things that the printing press did for the reading public was to freeze word forms, so spelling became set, allowing for the creation of the dictionary.
For whatever reasons, writers and more likely editors decided that the closed compound form of “birthday” better fit the meaning of the word. Clearly, the word “birthday” came to denote a special event and not just any old day with a modifier stuck in front of it. It is not an occasion to be hyphenated, but a day to be celebrated, despite Shakespeare’s mostly glum depiction of “birth-days.”

Quotations from Shakespeare’s play come from The Complete Works of Shakespeare, 4th edition, edited by David Bevington, published by Harper Collins, 1992.

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Gruntled


            If I tell you I am gruntled, how are you going to react? (My spell check reacted by underlining the word in a red squiggly line.) Will you offer me a tissue and sympathy? Or maybe a hot cup of herbal tea or a nice glass of wine? Will you conjecture that maybe I have been spending too much time around swine and offer to take me someplace civilized, such as a movie or a bookstore? Or maybe you will encourage me to gargle.
            If I tell you I am gruntled, the correct reaction would be to offer me congratulations. My Oxford English Dictionary (OED), defines “gruntled” as an adjective meaning, “Pleased, satisfied, content,” a “back formation” of “disgruntled.” (A back formation is a word created by removing an affix—in this case the negative prefix “dis”—from the original word.) While the OED does not mark “gruntled” as archaic or obsolete, my American Heritage College Dictionary does not include the word. An on-line search found current definitions of the word from modern on-line dictionaries. Under the heading of “People Ask” is the question “Is ‘gruntled’ a word?” The answer is yes.
            P.G. Wodehouse, according to the OED first used “gruntled” in 1938 in his book, Code of Woosters. Bertie Wooster, an English gentleman, makes this observation about his valet, Jeeves: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.” I ran across the word in Zadie Smith’s debut novel of 2000, White Teeth in which Smith alludes to this usage: “When Archie returned to table eight, Samad was like Jeeves: if not exactly disgruntled, then some way from being gruntled.” Of course, I had to look up the word. The last example which the OED lists of “gruntled” comes from 1967. Ms. Smith’s usage of the word has captured my imagination. I think it is time for the word “gruntled” to make a comeback (like Elvis in 1968.)
            We have recently marked not only the beginning of a new year, but of a new decade as well. I am not a big one for making new years resolutions, but this year I made a few serious ones. One of them is the resolution to be more gruntled. Here's wishing you, reader, a new year filled with great gruntlement!
            I presented this piece to my Writing Circle. They asked the question, since people can be gruntled, can they be ungruntled and regruntled? Hmm.
            Happy 85th birthday to Elvis!

LAGNIAPPE:  Things that make me gruntled:
                             1.
Celebrating my birthday in Greenville, SC, with my husband.

                            2.
Time on the beach in my shelter.

                           3.
Visiting Charles Towne Landing

4.
Playing the ukulele

5.

Attending Elvis Festivals with my daughter