I'm just reading a novel (third in a trilogy) that is laid in very early northwest Scotland, in the broch-building era. The person who wrote these books really knows her stuff, and she actually lives in the landscape she's writing about. The books are excellent, very well written. I'm enjoying the final installment, which just came out a few days ago. However, in the middle of this wonderful re-creation of a time long past, she has used the slang word 'wonky' twice. So far. Somebody has a wonky smile, and somebody else built a wonky home. If she had said 'crooked,' it would have melted easily into the rest of the narrative. But 'wonky' leaps off the page for the wrong reason. It made me think of cheapo grocery store carrots, and I wanted to laugh ...which was not what those particular passages were supposed to make me do. I'd say avoid using contemporary slang, unless it's appropriate to the time and place you're writing about, or particular to the POV of your character or narrator. Not only does it jar when used in a historical setting, but it will also date the writing. I mean, what if she had been writing 50 years ago,—when good things were 'groovy' or 'fab.' Oiks....
But, was she using the words in the narration or in dialogue? I'd be more than happy with it in narration - after all, it's written in contemporary English rather than early Scots. But in dialogue, it's unforgiveable. "'Tis truly amazeballs," said Queen Elizabeth.
Well, it jumped out at me, and in the wrong way. It certainly didn't blend in to the rest of the narrative. To each his own.
Perhaps a little off topic, but in a similar vein, what about jargon? How do you separate it from slang? Especially when you're writing about people who have a vocabulary that people outside of their profession will not know such as sailors, chefs, bakers, blacksmiths, etc.... https://literarydevices.net/jargon/ I get that a baker in 1400 AD is going to use words that a farmer in 1400 AD will not know. However surely there are instances where a customer enters a bakery and overhears something and goes on to use that word/expression somewhere else and it spreads from that point til it has a completely different/new meaning. I have been racking my brain trying to think of an example and all I can think of is how prostitutes became "hookers" from the camp followers that followed General Hooker during the USA civil war. Apparently because he allowed it, when questioned, soldiers told the questioners that "they're hookers" meaning they were there by General Hooker's permission and it developed into slang that referred to prostitutes. **Apologies if I am mistaken, that's what I remember reading.** In historical fiction, how does one handle this situation? Do you go with the oldest, formal definition such as prostitute or do you use "hooker" or do you make up an entirely new word? I kind of see "prostitute" as being a really formal word while "hooker" is more informal, at least in usage nowadays... Somehow I am not sure I asked that very clearly but I'll risk posting it. I can always come back and edit it after I've had a snooze. Maybe it'll spark some discussion....
I doubt anyone is asking at this level of pedantry, but... Slang - actual slang, the real thing, not what people tend to think it is - is very easy to define. Slang has a very specific genesis. It arises as a group identifier. The group can auto-identify along any lines it like - socioeconomic, ethnic, age, shared activity or appreciation for a thing like music, literature, etc. Anything. Slang, in its most correct definition, arises as a tool for group members to identify one another through use of the term in the specific mode agreed upon by the group. This is why slang has such a short shelf-life. As soon as out-group members pick up the slang and make use of it, it no longer serves to identify group members and it becomes "played" and the group moves on to something new. That is slang. Wonky is not slang. It's a neologism relative to the text in which it was found. Y'all is not slang. It's an unratified replacement for the plural 2nd person that is no longer easy to note since 2nd plural and 2nd singular are now the same. No one mentioned this one, but the OED lists it as slang, which is patently erroneous. Jargon is similar to slang in that it exists as an insular vocabulary for those in a field or profession, but it comes into being to describe the things they are doing or the things with which they are working, things that may not have terms or words in a broader use. It describes items or concepts within the field; it doesn't come into being for group members to self-identify. Unfortunately, the conversation is a difficult one to have because slang is the general, all purpose word people use to describe words they feel are slightly less formal than the more formal, "real" words. But genuine slang is just one tiny grouping of words within a larger conversation that is really about anachronism, which includes more than just words, but also concepts and physical items. Regardless of the genesis of the word (or concept or thing), whether it's actual slang, jargon, or regionalism, what's really in play here is using terms that are temporally out of context, in timelines where they feel wrong.
Have you ever seen the semi-complete list? (I don't know if anything can really be called complete.) It's funny, but I suppose, not entirely. It says something about ourselves. Did you know that "hello" dates back to the 1800's? That's it. Those are tricky ones to catch, I think. I kind of wish we used these old words more. "The stewpots and cadgers on Colfax Avenue are thick as lice. Hide your wallet." Sorry. Stuck at home, dwelling on trivia. I need to do some more edits for this story I just wrapped up, but I'm procrastinating. Spoiler: The sad list . . . forligerwif OE myltestre OE portcwene OE whore OE putain a1300–1603 also Scots common woman a1300–1793 common c1330 pute c1380 bordel woman c1386 brothel 1493–1606 brothrell 1514 drab c1530– cat 1535 + 1670 slang Dict. + 1708 strange woman 1535–1614 + 1886 causey-paiker a1555 meretrix 1564–1605 putanie 1566(2) drivelling 1570 stew 1578–1650 hackney 1579–1679 public woman 1585–1662 + 1892 traffic 1591 trug 1592–a1700 + 1883 dial. street-walker 1592– (common) stale 1593–1641 hackster 1594–1611 punk 1596–1789 + 1928 pagan 1597–1632 croshabell a1598(2) polecat 1598–1717 occupant 1599(2) mermaid c1600–1602 transf. pug 1600–1719 customer 1601–1604 commoner 1601–1695 hell-moth 1602 public commoner 1604 moll 1604– night-worm 1605 community 1606 Winchester goose 1606–1778 prostitution 1607 venturer 1607 land-frigate 1611 venture 1611 walk-street 1611 curtal 1611 + 1706 dial. night-shade 1612 turn-up 1612 stewpot a1613 twigger c1613–1694 prostitute 1613– waistcoateer a1616–1916 + 1922 hackney-woman 1616 tweak 1617–1719 jumbler 1618 mar-tail c1620 fling-dust 1621 night-trader 1629 carry-knave 1630 meretrician 1630 lady of pleasure 1637–1708 treadle 1638 + 1848/78 Dict. miss 1645–1809 hackney-wench 1647 aunt 1663–1678 mob 1665–1697 cant vizard-mask 1670–1740 + 1823 night-walker 1670/1–1825 fire-ship 1672–1748 slang buttock 1673–1743 slang plier 1673 + 1872 marmalade-madam 1674–1717 town-woman 1675–1710 maux 1677–a1800 hackney-lady 1678 fling-stink 1679 she-trader 1682 doll-common 1684 Whetstone whore 1684 man-leech 1687 bulker 1690–1790 slang visor-mask 1693–1694 trader 1693–1760 nocturnal 1693–1823 high-flyer a1700 slang strum a1700–1765 + a1825 dial. market dame 1705/7 fille de joie 1705– barber's chair 1708 fire-drake 1710 transf. girl (about/of the town) 1711– trugmallion 1715–1719 screw 1725–1942 slang hack 1730/6 slang town-miss 1749 + 1921 Cytherean 1751 + 1807 woman of the town 1766–1785 kennel-nymph 1771 lady of easy virtue 1785 Dict. loose fish 1809 receiver-general 1811 slang Paphian 1811–1828 girl of the town 1817/18 molly 1819 Cyprian 1819–1843 dolly-mops 1833 hooker 1845– slang, chiefly US tail 1846–1869 horse-breaker 1861–1970 professional 1861 + 1973– flagger 1865 cocodette 1867–1885 cocotte 1867– queen's woman 1871 slang + 1981 History common prostitute 1875 soiled dove 1882– Austral. & N. Amer. slang joro 1884– horizontal 1888– slang moth 1896–1935 slang split-arse mechanic 1903 slang pros 1905– slang geisha 1910 white slave 1913– broad 1914– slang, orig. & chiefly US shawl 1922 slang lady of the evening/night c1925– euphem. prostisciutto 1930 prosty/prostie 1930– US slang quiff 1931– dial. & slang brass nail 1934–1938 slang brass 1934–1958 slang roller 1935– N. Amer. slang scupper 1935– vulgar slang pusher 1936– slang poule-de-luxe 1937– slang pro 1937– pross 1937– slang prossie/prossy/prozzy 1941– slang, orig. Austral. tom 1941– slang twopenny upright 1958–1978 slang scrubber 1959– slack 1959– slang yum-yum girl 1960– Suzie Wong 1962– slang model 1963– euphem. working girl 1968– US slang pavement princess 1976– slang street girl 1979–
I've done the same where I'm totally immersed in the fiction world and then -- whoa! -- some weirdo word choice yanks right out of it. I was reading someones first draft of a Ya and the character (a profit) just learned that the city they were in was going to be bombed and had to tell her father His reply? Shoot. I was like shoot? seriously. I know people go out of there way to avoid swear words but still ... why not just use some prose and guide their reaction. Also I hated when historical pirate romances used the term pert breasts. That seemed like a hangover of the 70s something to describe Farrah Fawcett not some wench with her gazungas hitched up like basketballs in a net.
They had this issue with swearing in Deadwood on HBO. In the 1870s people said Gosh, Dang, and Gee Wilikers instead of shit, fuck, and cocksucker. Naturally they went with modern swearing so the audience didn't spend the majority of the show giggling at the "dated" dialogue.
Well in a case like that, I'd probably do research and find out what prostitutes were called, back when your story is set. If there was a euphamism common at the time, you might want to try it. It will add authenticity to your story. I wouldn't necessarily go for a formal name though, in the belief that things were more 'formal' 'back then'—because chances are, they weren't! Things got prudish with the Victorians, but before that, things were more direct. However, you can't really fail with 'prostitute.' It's not a slang term, so it shouldn't jar the reader in a narrative about any time period, I reckon.
Actually, real swearing was more blasphemous than scatalogical, back in the days of Deadwood. Taking the Lord's name in vain was the worst kind of swearing you could do. That's why I get annoyed with Deadwood (the TV series) because they didn't dare 'go there.' Probably because the blaspheming would actually offend modern Christian audiences more than the anachronistic, but much safer fuckity-fuck stuff they resorted to instead. Gosh, dang and gee willikers was considered very soft swearing back in the late 19th century. If you really wanted to turn the air blue, you did it with the Christ God Damn You to Hell kind of thing. Even when I was a child in the 1950s and 60s, saying 'hell' or 'dammit' was incredibly bad. You just didn't do it. Whether you were religious or not. That last line Rhett Butler says in Gone With The Wind created quite a stir at the time, and was still considered very dodgy, even in the 1950s, when I first saw the movie.
the etymology of wonky suggests that it was first used in 1919, but it originates from the old English 'wancol' which meant shaky or tottering
This is a tough issue, because if you were telling a story about fifteenth-century England and wanted the language to be "authentic," you'd be using Chaucer's English, which puts a big burden on your reader. My rule is to confine my vocabulary to a standard one of around the maturity of what is now Early Modern English, refrain from any references to technology that would not have been appropriate for the age you're writing for, and hope for the best. I try to follow the path that people like Mary Stewart, Bernard Cornwell, and Ellis Peters have laid out in their fiction set in the pre-Chaucerian era.
Truly. I once had the infinite pleasure of beta-reading for an author whose story was allegedly set in the Scottish Lowlands in the 12th century, but he had his characters partaking of tea in the castle "drawing room" and his middle-class FMC's dream was to pursue Art for Art's Sake. And did I mention that the damsel's father, a very rich merchant, hadn't a servant in the house? No. Just no.
Interesting, because I think of "wonky" as relating to "wonk," like "The nominee for secretary of state is a well-known policy wonk." From some online etymology dictionary, emphasis mine:
The author used 'wonky' to mean 'crooked,' as in wobbly or lopsided. If that's a British word that has been in common use for a long time in that context—the way the word 'crooked' has been—then it's probably jarred me because I wasn't born and raised British. In that case, the problem is mine, not hers. BUT it did jump out at me as being modern slang, and took me out of the story. It was noticeable once, but particularly noticeable that she used it twice, to describe two separate things. The Oxford English Dictionary I own defines the usage of 'wonky' as 'informal.' The same dictionary defines the usage of 'crooked' as a simple adjective, when used to mean misshapen, etc. However, it defines the usage of 'crooked' as 'informal' if it relates to something criminal. So, would it have been smoothly acceptable for my author as narrator to have referred to a neolithic bad guy as a 'crook?' I would say not.
Wonky itself is early 20th century, but it comes from an earlier word "wankel" (wankel -> wanky -> wonky) used to mean the same thing.
But it's always a problem with anachronisms. Suppose I'm writing a story about a shepherd in ancient Mesopotamia. If my character has a stick for herding sheep, should I refer to it as a shepherd's crook? The term is obviously English and certainly wouldn't have been around at that time. It doesn't seem right to call it that, even if we would call it a crook today.
No, but the word 'crook' in this context doesn't jump out at us as being out of place in a narrative about ancient Mesopotamia. It's a non-slangy, formal English word used to describe a device for herding sheep. What other word would you use, if you are writing in English? And would you use the Mesopotamian word for 'sky' or 'grass?' In order to be 'authentic?' And to keep the reader in the moment? I think we might be picking this apart too much. The word 'wonky' jumped out at me because I assumed it was modern slang. I'm perfectly happy to admit I'm wrong, if it's not slang, and has been in use for ages to mean 'not straight, or wobbly.' It just jumped out at me because I'm not a British person from birth, and I've only just become aware of it ...'wonky' vegetables being sold cheaply at supermarkets, for lower prices than the perfect ones, for example. However, I think my central point in my OP is still worth considering. If you ARE using modern slang, when writing about a period subject, it's likely to jar the reader. Historical novels are my favourite kind of novel, so I've had a lot of experience reading them—and British ones are my favourites. 'Wonky' jarred me. The same way it would have jarred me if a neolithic narrator character had referred to a tasty piece of fish as 'awesome.' Or a desired outcome as 'fabby-doo.'
I'm not disagreeing with you. I've read at least one pseudo-historical piece on this forum where the characters speak like modern American teenagers, and that was really jarring. The Flashman novels are one of my favourite series of historical fiction, but it's set in the mid to late 19th century, which is close enough to our modern times that, if a piece of slang slipped into the narrative, you probably wouldn't notice it. But what I was trying to say is that I think narrative and dialogue can follow different standards on this.
Yeah, to some extent. But as we are writing in modern English, while attempting to create the ambience of another time and place, I'd advocate keeping both the standards (speech and narration) as close to neutral as possible. A few slips in the wrong direction, and things can start to feel unconvincing.
Exactly. It's possible to over-research as well as under-research. I read a book many years ago that was set in ancient Rome or ancient Greece, can't remember off the top of my head. The writer had gone and found the proper (I hope) name for practically every damn noun in the book. Couldn't just say that Caius Germanicus (or whatever his name was) threw on his robe and sandals and opened the door, no, we had to hear that Caius Germanicus quickly put on his alba and sandalia and and opened the ianua (note: I just used google translate right now for those words as an example). I gave up after a few chapters. I didn't need to learn a whole new language, a few words here and there where relevant and easy to comprehend would have been sufficient.
Oh, I'm totally onboard with this. When I first started writing, I wrote some stories set in medieval Japan, and I interspersed it with random Japanese words for objects. Makes me cringe when I read them now. I mean, I know what a byobu and a gashira is, but my readers won't, and don't want to have to learn the words to enjoy the story. I was being so goddamn pretentious.
Perhaps the medieval progenitor of the Decadent movement. This is the difference between fantasy and historical fiction: in fantasy, castles can be whimsical and have drawing rooms, but in historical fiction they must be accurate. It's fun to read, but to write it really successfully you have to be 1 part novelist and 3 parts historian. Such a drag. Hopefully he declined them properly At that point you might as well write the whole thing in Latin.
