It's All Lost in Translation

Not only do I write historical novels, I also read them, and I am particularly fond of Regency romances many of which are ably penned by American authors.

There is a problem, however, with the difference between American English and British English. Whilst in a modern setting a Brit can use any amount of Americanisms, for we’ve all learnt them from Hollywood, for a historical novel we need to be especially careful. Although a writer could escape detection if his/her audience were all Americans, he/she will not escape even the casual scrutiny of a British reader. For British writers, too, affected as we are by the American culture, it is good to make sure of the language that we use.

The most useful tool a writer can have is access to an on-line dictionary, like Lexico powered by the Oxford English Dictionary (https://www.lexico.com/). Looking up a suspect word will not only give definitions, but at the end of each entry there is usually a brief etymology of the word providing its origins and history. I find it helpful when I am not sure how old a word is and whether my protagonists would have used it in the time period I am writing about.  

Here I have listed some of the pitfalls for American and British writers. Obviously, this is not an exhaustive list, and I may well add to it later.

Grammar and general:

Gotten. As in ‘I have gotten…’ Brits do not use the word, although ‘uneducated’ Brits and children might use it. Just ‘got’ will do (without the ‘have). However, we do say ‘forgotten’ and ‘begotten’. There are many who feel the verb ‘to get’ has no place in literature anyway, and should be replaced by another verb.

‘Fit’ in the past tense. ‘It fit her perfectly’ is imperfect English to Brits. The past tense of the verb ‘to fit’ is surely ‘fitted’. ‘It fitted her perfectly.’

The past tense of ‘to spit’ is ‘spat’.

Wash-up. To ‘wash up’ for Brits is to ‘do the dishes’. ‘I am going to wash up’, or I am going to do the washing-up’ is to wash the dishes. To wash oneself, we say, ‘to have a wash’, or simply, ‘to wash’.

Snuck. Please – the past tense of ‘to sneak’ is ‘sneaked.’

‘As is’. No. Brits say, ‘as it is’.

‘Is all’. Not an English phrase. But we might say, 'that is all I am saying on the subject.'

Visit. British people do not visit with someone. They go to visit someone. No ‘with’. So one would not say, ‘I have been to visit with Susan.’ But rather, I have been to visit Susan’, or ‘I visited Susan’. ‘I am going to visit Aunt Sarah’. ‘I enjoyed visiting Diana’. ‘Thank you for your visit.’ To say you are going to ‘visit with Susan’ implies that you are going to take Susan with you when you go to visit someone else!

Different from. In Britain it is ‘different to’. ‘The bonnet was different from the one she wore yesterday’ should be ‘The bonnet was different to the one she wore yesterday.’ A dead giveaway. However, we do say, ‘differ from’. ‘Julia’s dress differed from Syliva’s.’

‘Trash’ or ‘garbage’. We have ‘rubbish’ in Britain, not ‘trash’ and not ‘garbage’. Our ‘trash can’ is actually a ‘rubbish bin’ or, historically, sometimes an ‘ash bin’, owing to the fact that the contents were mostly made up of ash from the fire. Hence, also, ‘ash-heaps’, often called ‘middens’.

‘Thinking on’ – in Britain we say ‘thinking of’ or ‘thinking about’.

House:

Stoop or stoep. I've seen this several times in Regency novels. We do not have, nor ever have had, a front stoop or stoep. We have a doorstep, a front doorstep and a back doorstep. Even in Regency times. 

Porch. While on the subject of buildings, we may have a porch. This is not the American ‘front porch’ that everyone sees in a wild-west film, but is a very small covering to the front door.

Nor do we have vestibules. When one goes in the front door, one is in the ‘hall’. Be it ever so small and narrow, or big enough to fit a London bus in, it is always a hall. Unless one is in a cottage in which case one enters straight into the living room, or front room.

Floors. Now this one is enough to get anyone in a tangle. In America, the ‘first floor’ is what we Brits call the ‘ground floor’. That makes the American ‘second floor’ the ‘first floor’. And so on. Got it? No, neither have we! To make matters worse, we will often refer to the ‘floors’ as ‘storeys’. ‘He had a room on the second storey.’ Which in American is the third floor! ‘They live in a three-storey house’ means the house has three floors – a ground floor, a first floor and a second floor. This is also true in public buildings such as hospitals and hotels where there are lifts. Useful to know if you are travelling to Britain.

Bedroom:

Turn in. While British people may now use the phrase ‘turn in’ when they mean ‘go to bed’ (after all, we’ve been watching westerns and other Hollywood offerings for decades), it is not a British phrase, and would not be used by a lady or gentleman in 19^th century Britain (or before).

Regency dressing table 1800-1810
Courtesy Wikimedia Commons 

Vanity. We do not have a ‘vanity’ or ‘vanity units’. (Or, at least, we do, but they are cupboards with a sink or basin in the top, often in the bathroom.) It is a ‘dressing table’, please! A woman will sit at the dressing table as she puts on her makeup, does her hair, or her maid does her hair, etc. Usually there is a mirror on the dressing table, either free-standing or integral. A dressing table will  have drawers on either side, with a space between for the owner to sit relatively near and not have her knees or feet impeded. Sometimes there may be a shallow drawer in the middle, too.

Don’t forget that other piece of equipment in a bedchamber, namely a wash-stand with ewer and basin. Also, a bedroom would have a commode. Hah! Regency Britain did not have water closets or bathrooms, or bathing rooms. Sorry. Filthy old lot they were! A bath would be of the tin variety, placed in front of the fire in the bedroom, and filled with hot water from the kitchen range brought up by the servants. Needless to say, it did not happen often.

Bedding. We do not have ‘comforters’ in Britain and never did. Except sometimes a baby will have a ‘comforter’ or ‘dummy’ to suck, which is not what Americans mean by ‘comforter’, I think. These days, what Americans call a ‘comforter’, the sort you have on the bed, we call a ‘quilt’. It used to be called a ‘Continental quilt’, but now just quilt. It is filled with hollow-fibre, and loosely quilted, and always plain white. We put on it a ‘quilt cover’ which can be removed and washed, but which is a pig to put on, especially if the quilt is large (think extra-large pillowcase). The quilt covers the bed and hangs over the sides and bottom, and snuggles all around the sleeper.

In the past, a quilt used to be called an ‘eiderdown’ because it was filled with feathers from the eider duck (or more likely chickens, but we’ll let that pass!) loosely quilted, and might be of the patchwork variety, or maybe embroidered, etc. but with no separate cover. The feathers worked their way out of the cover through the material, and had a habit of pricking a person. (I remember it well.) A bed was made up with perhaps a blanket on the mattress (optional), a bottom sheet, a top sheet, layers of scratchy, itchy, black, grey or cream coloured blankets, depending on season, a ‘bedspread’ historically called a ‘counterpane’, and, if it were really cold, an eiderdown. The sheets and blankets were ‘tucked in’ under the edge of the mattress (hence, one was ‘tucked into bed’) and the weight of it all anchored the sleeper in the bed! A long person might find that his feet were pinned into the bed, and he would have to kick the blankets out in order to free them. Bedspreads were usually a single layer of fabric meant to ‘dress’ the bed, to make it look pretty, and could be loose on the bed, being tucked in at the foot end if there was a foot board, or draping loose all around, and covering the pillows, so it might be on top of the eiderdown, or it may be beneath, depending on the state, or decoration, of the eiderdown. Sometimes they matched the curtains. We have quilted bedspreads today, to pretty up the bed, but not everyone has them. I remember as a child the heaviness of those ‘bedclothes’ (which is what they were called) and still I wasn’t warm in bed! No central heating in those days, and if a person was lucky enough to have a fire in their bedroom (or bed chamber) the heat from it very likely didn’t reach more than six feet from the fire. We often woke up to ice on the windows on the inside which stuck the curtains to the glass. Oh, the blessings of central heating and a light, warm, modern quilt!

‘Drapes’. We call them ‘curtains’.

Farming:

Corn. To Americans, corn is, well, corn. We call that sweetcorn these days. But historically, in Britain, corn could refer to wheat too, as sweetcorn was relatively unknown until the middle of the 20^th century.

Grains. No Brit, even today, will refer to ‘grains’. We say ‘cereals’ or ‘cereal crops’ and the term includes, wheat, oats, barley. Historically, that was about it in the cereal cultivation.

Winter wheat is a fairly recent thing.

Wildlife:

We do not have wild chipmunks in Britain.

We do not have bluebirds in Britain.

We do not have skunks in Britain.

We do not have hummingbirds in Britain.

While we have recently re-introduced beaver into some parts of Britain, prior to that they have been extinct here since the 15^th century. And wolves and bears have been extinct far longer, though this is not the case on the Continent. Do check up.

Squirrels were red, until the American grey squirrel came along. Worth doing research on timing for that one.

Bug. In today’s world, we Brits will use the word ‘bug’ when we mean insect or germ, simply because we have learned it off you Americans! However, no self-respecting Regency Brit would use the word ‘bug’. ‘Insect’, please. Or 'creepy crawlie' if you like.

Lady-bugs. And while we are on the subject, we call these creatures ‘ladybirds’. Yes, I know they are not birds, but there you go. Also, different regions have colloquial words for them. In Norfolk, for example, they are called ‘bishybarnabees’. Quite!

Money:

20th century 12 sided brass 3d. bit
By Welkinridge - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3212570

Until 15^th February 1971 we had £ s d., or pounds, shillings and pence. There were 12 pennies to the shilling, and 20 shillings to the pound. A guinea was 21 shillings, or £1 1s 0d. as it was written (now it would be £1.05). No wonder we went decimal! Incidentally, guineas were usually made of gold. In the 18^th century, a golden guinea was the equivalent of a louis d’or  and other foreign currencies. Worth doing research on if you are going further back in history. A pound coin was called a sovereign, made of gold. Half a penny was called a halfpenny, or ha’pence/ha’penny to one and all. A quarter of a penny was a farthing. Also in coinage, there were crowns (5 shillings), half crowns (2 shillings and six pence), a florin (2 shillings), a shilling (12 pence, remember?), a sixpence, and a  threepenny piece all of which were made of silver, although in the 20^th century, the silver content was reduced. A threepenny piece or bit, was called a ‘thruppeny bit’ (pronounced ‘throopeny bit’) or  ‘thruppence’ (3d.), was a small coin. In the mid 20^th century, the design was changed to a 12-sided brass coin. Then came the bronze coins consisting of a penny, ha’penny and farthing. There was not always paper money, either, which was invented in the 19^th century, so do your homework. Many of us who are older can remember a pound note and a ten shilling note. A pound might be called a ‘nicker’ by a Londoner but not usually by upper class people, or a ‘quid’, but everyone used the word ‘bob’ for shilling. ‘Have you got a ten bob note, guv?’ There are lots of cant phrases for our coinage, especially among the lower classes, and especially too in London, too many to mention here, so again, research is required.

Queen Victoria silver 3d. bit
By .Hephaestos at en.wikipedia - Copied from http://worldcoingallery.com/countries/img9/76-777.jpgTransferred from en.wikipedia to Commons by User:Sreejithk2000 using CommonsHelper., CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17761513

Time:

Dates and numbers. Americans leave out the word ‘and’, as in ‘two hundred twenty-nine’. Brits say, ‘two hundred and twenty-nine’, and that goes for all numbers. ‘Fourteen thousand, three hundred and fifty three.’ For years too: ‘two thousand and seven.’ ‘Two thousand and nineteen’. ‘Two thousand and twenty.’ Or just ‘twenty-twenty, twenty-nineteen’, etc. In times past, it was ‘nineteen-o-nine’ but ‘nineteen fourteen’. I know it’s crazy, but there it is. Also, Brits put the day first, the month second and the year last. So, ‘15^th February, 1971’, or  ‘15.2.71’ Historically, however, there does not seem to have been a set rule. The idea of using just figures for dates is relatively recent.

‘A fourth’. And while we are on the subject, ‘a fourth’ in Britain, is ‘a quarter’. ‘Three-fourths’, therefore, becomes ‘three-quarters’.

Time. To say, ‘eight forty-five’ is very recent for Brits, which we have learned off the Americans, and many of us older ones still do not use it much. Many of us still say the time the way our parents and ancestors did, so: ‘eight o’clock, five past eight, ten past eight, a quarter past eight, twenty past eight, twenty-five past eight, half past eight,’ etc. Once you are past the half past, you are going towards the hour, so it is not ‘eight thirty-one,’ but ‘twenty-nine minutes to nine’, ‘twenty-five to nine’, ‘twenty to nine’, ‘a quarter to nine’, ‘ten to nine’, ‘five to nine,’ etc. And even more archaically, but used still by the oldest generation, ‘five and twenty to nine’ or ‘five and twenty past eight’, which is what my mother (who would now be 103 if she were still with us) used to say. There was no twenty-four hour clock. And as far as most Brits are concerned, there still isn’t, though some do try to force us into that line. The older ones among us find we are always converting back to the old way of saying things. I’ve lost count of the number of American authors who have Regency people saying ‘dinner is at seven thirty.’ A dead give-away.

Seasons: 'Fall'. In Britain, we don’t have ‘fall’, we have ‘autumn’, and the adjective ‘autumnal’. No English person would ever refer to the ‘fall’. I am surprised American authors do not know this.

While we are on the subject of seasons, summer in Britain rarely hits 90^oF, well not before global warming at any rate. In winter, we usually do not expect much in the way of snow. But in Regency England, the winters were particularly harsh, and even the Thames froze over in 1814 so that there was a frost fair on the river ice. During most winters in Britain it is not possible, nor advisable, to skate on a pond, or venture onto the ice, as it is too thin.

Transport:

Cars. Not autos. Not automobiles. Cars. Always. No, I know they will not turn up in a Regency novel, but just worthy of mention. We have a front and back 'bumper', not a ‘fender’. We have a ‘bonnet’, which is the cover in front for the engine, not a ‘hood’. We have a ‘boot’ not a ‘trunk’.

Carriages/Coaches. Historically, a carriage was pulled by horses. So was a coach, though the latter was more usually a public affair, such as the mail coach. Today, however, we have ‘carriages’ pulled by a train engine! I believe Americans call them ‘cars’. A ‘coach’ today is what Americans call a ‘bus’, but usually for private hire. (When I told my American friend that we went on an outing by ‘coach’ she thought I meant a carriage pulled by horses!) A ‘bus’ is public transport, like the red Routemasters which were a trademark of London (And yes, it is true that you wait hours for a bus, then three come along at once! I’ve experienced that many times!) Similar ones are seen and used all over the country. But we can have a minibus, which is a transit-type van converted to carry people with windows and seats in the back. Ah. It’s all lost in translation.

Don’t forget, Britain drives on the left, unlike almost everyone else. It has always been the case, even in the days of horse and carriage.

Picture by Renee Amusson, Pexels

Food:

A ‘biscuit’ in American is actually a ‘scone’ (pronounced ‘scone’ or ‘sconn’) in Britain. A British ‘biscuit’ is what the Americans call a ‘cookie’. ‘Shortbread’ is also a biscuit/cookie, and quite delicious.

‘Candies’ we call ‘sweets’. Historically, sweetmeats.

Table linen: ‘Table napkins’. They are (as was the case historically) placed beside the cutlery of a person at dinner. They are used for wiping one’s hands, or mouth, but never for one’s nose. These days they can be made out of layers of tissue paper, or some fabric. In good restaurants, linen or cotton napkins are the norm. Historically, whether at home or eating out, a napkin was made from fabric, usually linen, and could be embroidered. In the 17^th century and before, they were large, and thrown over the diner’s shoulder. You need to check that up if you are thinking of using that, and also other etiquette at table for the times. Don’t forget that historically, nearly every household in the land used a white linen or cotton tablecloth for all meals which might well be embroidered. Many people still use them, as do restaurants. It was a matter of pride that one's table linen was spotless and snowy white.

For cutlery settings at a formal dinner, you need to look up the number and placement and uses of the various knives, forks and spoons, if you plan to use that.

Babies:

Babies’ ‘napkins’ or, more commonly, ‘nappies’ are what Americans call ‘diapers’. A baby has a ‘bib’ placed or tied around its neck to catch dribble, food, etc.

British babies do not ‘spit up’. They may throw up, vomit, or ‘bring back’ their milk or feed, but no self-respecting British baby ‘spits up’!

Language:
No 19th century gentleman (nor even well into the 20th century come to that) would ever swear in front of a woman. No woman, whether highborn or lowly. And no child, either. Swear words that Americans do not view as profanity, and probably think are quite quaint, are for the English quite offensive. And some have originated too recently to be used in a Regency novel. There are many 'cant' phrases  and words that were current at the time, and that would add colour to speech, so please do some homework. A dictionary of historical slang, such as The Penguin Dictionary of Historical Slang is a real help, showing when a word or phrase was current, what it actually meant, and its etymology. There are also many online helps and lists of historical slang. Do not leave it to chance. Look it up.

Also, I've noticed, Americans seem to think we use the word 'twit' to mean idiot or fool. While it used to be common in the mid 20th century, I don't think people use it that much nowadays. Historically, 'twit' did not come into use until the 1930's. To see it in a Regency novel makes me do a double-take. It is quite out of place. It has appeared in three different novels that I have read recently.

No doubt there are other Americanisms that escape me at the present, but these seem to be among the worst offenders. If a writer is 'in the head' of a British character, particularly in a historical setting, then their thoughts, and especially their speech should not contain Americanisms - well not if the writer would like to bring authenticity to their work. Mostly, the historical research is beautifully done, the story is excellent, and the characters are well-drawn, and it would be a shame to let down all that effort by a few misplaced words.

I hope this little exercise helps pick up some of those gaffs.