Writers Abroad Magazine Issue 2 March 2015 | Page 32

WRITERS ABROAD MAGAZINE Evolution An Article by Vesna McMaster “What’s the difference between writing in the UK and writing in Australia?” “It’s not as cold so you don’t have to spend as much time gathering firewood.” That’s the facetious answer I got from my partner when pondering the question out loud. On a certain level it’s almost true. A generally easier lifestyle and more relaxed attitude to life does lend itself more readily to production of the written word. But the market is so global these days that space and distance often mean nothing. You could be squatting in a tin hut at the side of the Mekong or a penthouse in New York: the satellites will pick up the signal just the same whatever words you type. With a laptop you are in your own bubble and can digitally teleport anywhere. One thing, however, is increasingly hard to pin down. Possibly because of this very mobility. The English language itself. English is a huge river that has grown over the centuries, splitting into countless offshoots and tributaries, each with its own lexical ecology. Until recently, these pockets have been relatively isolated and have evolved distinct vocabularies and grammar. When you stepped into one territory, you could expect to have to abide by the local rules. Or at least there was a set of local rules that could be followed and understood. Now, the Internet is acting as a massive ocean for all these ecosystems. Englishspeaking rivers come crashing in together, churning in the muddy waters of a giant estuary. The children of my Australian spouse and my British-born child giggle together when I say “duvet” instead of “doona” and “pants” when I mean underwear, but they use Americanisms, British expressions and Australian slang quite freely and without being aware of their origin. All they know is that they are language tools that have landed on their doorstep. New words are forming at breakneck speed, faster even than obsolete words drop out of circulation as trades die and lifestyles change. Cyberspace is carcinogenic to the poor old Queen’s English, proliferating the spread of “mistakes” at such a rate that within 10 years they’re recognised as an “alternate usage” and swallowed into dictionaries. What percentage of English speakers use “decimate” in its intended form (to take away a tenth), and how long will it be before “to take for granite” is acknowledged as an alternate form of the phrase “take for granted”? This list is endless. A recent comment I saw (on the Internet) said “That awkward moment when you realize Latin grammar makes more sense than English.” Of course it does. English allows almost everything, absorbs all, morphs endlessly. That’s the secret of its success. If you make a mistake in Latin you get a rap on the knuckles and sent back to your seat. 32 | M a r c h 2 0 1 5