A Course of Modern English [antikvár]

TEXT THE NEW SOCIETY Brian Foster * Fortunately for many millions of mothers there are somé changes in the English language which mark a lightening of their daily burden. Gone are the days 1 when Monday morning 2 was marked off from all other mornings by the collective thumping and thudding 3 proceeding from all the washtubs of the neighbourhood, and perhaps the time will eventually come when even the word "washtub" will be listed as obsolescent in the dictionaries ousted by washing machine. The humble Kitchen Sink 4 has become the title of a theatrical movement, leaving a gap to be füled by sink unit. 'Unit '5 is in fact a hardworking little word at the present time, doing service in unit furniture, garbage disposal unit and accommodation unit ('Accommodation unit, sweet accommodation uniti'6). The spin drier, pressure cooker, immersion heater and deep freeze 7 all cooperate to aid the housewife. Shopping is frequently done in a supermarket8 (the name comes from America) with its self-service. Another sign of the times is to be seen in the fact that fruit is often known as 'fresh fruit' to make it clear that it is not a question of the canned variety which is in danger of being' regarded as the norm, as in the case of pineapples in particular. 'Canned' and 'tinned' are very nearly synonymous in British English, the former (American) usage is gaining ground. Beer is almost invariably said to be canned rather than tinned 9, as befits10 a specifically American invention. Music, on the other hand, is metaphorically said to be canned u, never tinned. Like other products, it is rarely to be had in its natural state, just as entertainers only exceptionally make what they call a personal appearance. A similar shift in the usual perspective seems to be operating in the realm of contrasted natural and artificial substances. A letter in The Times recounts that a gentleman asking for a sponge in a large store was shown 'an article seemingly composed of porous rubber'. When he remonstrated he was told: 'That is a sponge, sir, but perhaps you want a natural sponge.' The assistant then produced a sponge in a cellophane bag boldly labelled NATURAL SPONGE. The writer of this letter then pertinently asked whether we must now call a spade 'a natural spade' 12. In the world of publishing, where with typical conservatism it was for many years considered that paperbacks could not be a commercial success, there is now a frequent need to refer to hard-cover books 13 in order to differentiate these from the paper-backed variety which many read-