Is there such a thing as "Queen's English" nowadays? The Queen's pronounciation of many words is much different from what it was in the 1950s and 1960s when she spoke more "posh". These days, her accent sounds more......."common."
As today's Sun newspaper say -
THE Queen’s accent is getting less POSH, according to a study of her Christmas speeches.
Professor Jonathan Harrington, who analysed the voice of Her Majesty said: “In 1952 she would have said, ‘Thet men in the bleck het.’ Now it would be, ‘That man in the black hat.’”
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Who cut off the Queen's vowels?
By Andrew O'Hagan
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 05/12/2006
Diana, Princess of Wales was cruelly thwarted in her attempt to half-inch the crown from 'er Indoors, but she certainly left a mark on all areas of monarchic life. For instance, in the good old 1970s, it was impossible, at least in our house, to work out what the Queen was actually saying: "I yem speccing frem ar herm en the grends ev Beckinghem Pals." Cor blimey, how we'd scratch our noggins and roll the old meat pies to the ceiling: what was the Anointed One trying to impart?
In the years since then, the Queen has increasingly shaped her vowels to meet the people's pleasure, and one can't help but imagine that Diana's popularity — to say nothing of Tony Blair's oiliness and the nation's worship of Ant & Dec — must somehow have played its part in persuading Her Majesty that Joyce Grenfell on Xanax was not the sound of the future.
In any event, the Queen now sounds a bit like Dot from EastEnders, without so much of the innate haughtiness and the sense of entitlement. It wasn't quite form in the old days to speak of oneself being "happy", but if, in a fit of high spirits on Christmas Day, the Queen made reference to that famous condition, she would tend to say she was "heppi", as in "one wez heppi to note the success ev the referbishmentz et Windsaw Caseel". But now we must contend with the sovereign being constantly "happee", like someone from Girls Aloud.
How far down is the Queen likely to go in her plunge from the Queen's English? Is it a matter of the occasional estuary vowel laying itself like a desperate lover over the tracks of her ancient pronunciation, or will we soon witness our Queen in full gangsta flow, issuing the kind of verbal bulletins on Christmas Day that might make Jamie Oliver sound like Noel Coward?
I got a bit worried about this — worried she mightn't cope — so I marked up a copy of the Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang and sent it over to the palace by courier. Since the Russian poisoning thing must surely be on her mind, I circled a few words that might slip nicely into her new lingo.
Like "hunk", adj. "to get hunk with", "to get even". Ex. "Suppose I show you how to get hunk with the cheapskates?" And Mickey Mouse, as in, "That's a right Mickey Mouse operation you're running over there".
Not even a thank you. Which just goes to show that good manners as well as speech are slipping at the palace. But then it occurred to me that maybe the Queen was getting all "happee" because of her grandsons William and Harry.
After all, there's something to be said for keeping up with the youth of today, especially when they spend half their time wearing their baseball caps backwards at China White, as opposed to engaging in more traditional pursuits for royal siblings, such as hanging out down the Embassy Club with Peter Sellers.
In that sense, the Queen is doing rather well. She's keeping up with the new generation — busy as they are, organising a big pop bash next year to remember their mother — and also tuning in to what the times are saying. And what they are saying is, "Show us yer care, Ma'am. You're one of us, intcha?"
This may be the major British social trend of our time, of course: the urge to see the pop-culturing of everything as a form of pure democracy, but watching it happen in relation to the Queen is actually — despite my attempt to help her out — making me rather nostalgic for the old, unyielding royal position.
If I have to have a monarch at all, do I want one who sounds like Denise Van Outen? Or is there not, as with brown sauce and with fresh cockles, something rather charming and eccentric and vinegary in the old style?
I'll tell you summink, though. When it comes to it, I'd much sooner have a Queen whose habits are directed by moribund tradition than by a pack of PR consultants. It seems Tony Blair's "classless" society can go only in one direction — into the gutter of crowd-pleasing uniformity, where everyone must sound the same in order to prove they are "real".
For me, even the ludicrous should be encouraged in British life if it guarantees the survival of difference. We are not one people, but many, and that is the point currently being flattened along with the old vowels and the old notions of class. A rather totalitarian urge lies behind the bullying of people because of how they speak, with tabloid populism as the ducking stool du jour.
We happen to have a writer who saw all this coming: Shakespeare. His monarchs are full of glory and menace, and are in fear of being "unvoiced" by tavern-haunters whose verbal rowdiness might appear to question a king's authenticity.
Watch how the present sovereign appears to be in courtship to the common people, how she seems to dive into their hearts, with humble and familiar courtesy. It was Shakespeare's Richard II who pointed out this sometimes needful tendency, a tendency that we now see shaping the present Queen's speech.
And for Richard II, it all comes down to just that, speech: in time, his tongue is "but a stringless instrument". In a passage that did not please Dr Johnson, Shakespeare nails the matter when he speaks movingly of the "senseless brands" — hot irons — that will "sympathise the heavy accent of thy moving tongue".
So has Elizabeth II fallen foul to the senseless brands of our own time? Perhaps. But the grey advisers behind her are more likely the responsible parties: they feel that no form of management is too much to bring a modern monarch into line with the people's sympathies.
Those who like to clap in church have the upper hand in modern life. Readers, beware. Monarchs, take flight. The great populists are ready to throw you down the apples and pears [[stairs]] for the sin of being yourself.
telegraph.co.uk
As today's Sun newspaper say -
THE Queen’s accent is getting less POSH, according to a study of her Christmas speeches.
Professor Jonathan Harrington, who analysed the voice of Her Majesty said: “In 1952 she would have said, ‘Thet men in the bleck het.’ Now it would be, ‘That man in the black hat.’”
********************************************
Who cut off the Queen's vowels?
By Andrew O'Hagan
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 05/12/2006
Diana, Princess of Wales was cruelly thwarted in her attempt to half-inch the crown from 'er Indoors, but she certainly left a mark on all areas of monarchic life. For instance, in the good old 1970s, it was impossible, at least in our house, to work out what the Queen was actually saying: "I yem speccing frem ar herm en the grends ev Beckinghem Pals." Cor blimey, how we'd scratch our noggins and roll the old meat pies to the ceiling: what was the Anointed One trying to impart?
In the years since then, the Queen has increasingly shaped her vowels to meet the people's pleasure, and one can't help but imagine that Diana's popularity — to say nothing of Tony Blair's oiliness and the nation's worship of Ant & Dec — must somehow have played its part in persuading Her Majesty that Joyce Grenfell on Xanax was not the sound of the future.
In any event, the Queen now sounds a bit like Dot from EastEnders, without so much of the innate haughtiness and the sense of entitlement. It wasn't quite form in the old days to speak of oneself being "happy", but if, in a fit of high spirits on Christmas Day, the Queen made reference to that famous condition, she would tend to say she was "heppi", as in "one wez heppi to note the success ev the referbishmentz et Windsaw Caseel". But now we must contend with the sovereign being constantly "happee", like someone from Girls Aloud.
How far down is the Queen likely to go in her plunge from the Queen's English? Is it a matter of the occasional estuary vowel laying itself like a desperate lover over the tracks of her ancient pronunciation, or will we soon witness our Queen in full gangsta flow, issuing the kind of verbal bulletins on Christmas Day that might make Jamie Oliver sound like Noel Coward?
I got a bit worried about this — worried she mightn't cope — so I marked up a copy of the Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang and sent it over to the palace by courier. Since the Russian poisoning thing must surely be on her mind, I circled a few words that might slip nicely into her new lingo.
Like "hunk", adj. "to get hunk with", "to get even". Ex. "Suppose I show you how to get hunk with the cheapskates?" And Mickey Mouse, as in, "That's a right Mickey Mouse operation you're running over there".
Not even a thank you. Which just goes to show that good manners as well as speech are slipping at the palace. But then it occurred to me that maybe the Queen was getting all "happee" because of her grandsons William and Harry.
After all, there's something to be said for keeping up with the youth of today, especially when they spend half their time wearing their baseball caps backwards at China White, as opposed to engaging in more traditional pursuits for royal siblings, such as hanging out down the Embassy Club with Peter Sellers.
In that sense, the Queen is doing rather well. She's keeping up with the new generation — busy as they are, organising a big pop bash next year to remember their mother — and also tuning in to what the times are saying. And what they are saying is, "Show us yer care, Ma'am. You're one of us, intcha?"
This may be the major British social trend of our time, of course: the urge to see the pop-culturing of everything as a form of pure democracy, but watching it happen in relation to the Queen is actually — despite my attempt to help her out — making me rather nostalgic for the old, unyielding royal position.
If I have to have a monarch at all, do I want one who sounds like Denise Van Outen? Or is there not, as with brown sauce and with fresh cockles, something rather charming and eccentric and vinegary in the old style?
I'll tell you summink, though. When it comes to it, I'd much sooner have a Queen whose habits are directed by moribund tradition than by a pack of PR consultants. It seems Tony Blair's "classless" society can go only in one direction — into the gutter of crowd-pleasing uniformity, where everyone must sound the same in order to prove they are "real".
For me, even the ludicrous should be encouraged in British life if it guarantees the survival of difference. We are not one people, but many, and that is the point currently being flattened along with the old vowels and the old notions of class. A rather totalitarian urge lies behind the bullying of people because of how they speak, with tabloid populism as the ducking stool du jour.
We happen to have a writer who saw all this coming: Shakespeare. His monarchs are full of glory and menace, and are in fear of being "unvoiced" by tavern-haunters whose verbal rowdiness might appear to question a king's authenticity.
Watch how the present sovereign appears to be in courtship to the common people, how she seems to dive into their hearts, with humble and familiar courtesy. It was Shakespeare's Richard II who pointed out this sometimes needful tendency, a tendency that we now see shaping the present Queen's speech.
And for Richard II, it all comes down to just that, speech: in time, his tongue is "but a stringless instrument". In a passage that did not please Dr Johnson, Shakespeare nails the matter when he speaks movingly of the "senseless brands" — hot irons — that will "sympathise the heavy accent of thy moving tongue".
So has Elizabeth II fallen foul to the senseless brands of our own time? Perhaps. But the grey advisers behind her are more likely the responsible parties: they feel that no form of management is too much to bring a modern monarch into line with the people's sympathies.
Those who like to clap in church have the upper hand in modern life. Readers, beware. Monarchs, take flight. The great populists are ready to throw you down the apples and pears [[stairs]] for the sin of being yourself.
telegraph.co.uk