Words, Words, Words

Let's Agree To Disagree

The British really do have a way with words.

I've been reading GUTENBERG! reviews all week, trying to decipher the meaning behind adjectives like "sparky," "amiable," "goofy," and "delightful as far as it goes." I've also been mulling over all the ways I (and Mr. Doug Simon) have been described: "tall and preppy," "tall and gay," "tall and sweats a bit," "lofty..."

Then, of course, there was the savage pan we got in Metro. (I've searched valiantly for a link to it online, but alas, it seems to be lost to the tunnels of the Underground.) That review made it very clear in no uncertain terms that Scott and I can neither act nor sing, that we have no comic timing, and that one of the two stars we earned was because the show was so thankfully short.

Luckily the Metro reviewer stopped short of wishing us bodily harm. But today we got a great review in The Observer that said (among other things), "Gutenberg! The Musical! deserves the brio implicit in its punctuation."

Not exactly a sentence Liz Smith might pump out of her typewriter at The NY Post.

And that's what I find so interesting about the way of speaking (and writing) here. While words themselves seem so precise, the phrasings can sometimes meander a bit while admittedly being strangely evocative. For example, I've been told there is no English word for "beer" here. "Beer" is too vague. Instead they have "bitters," "lagers," "stouts," "ciders," etc.

Precise.

But today I took a day trip with Scott and his family to Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and Bath, and our tour guide was a delightful old Englishman who, when telling us something like, "We're about the turn on the lights in the bus," would say, "Perhaps you would want to take this opportunity to shield your eyes from our internal illuminations."

Not exactly the soul of wit.

At Stonehenge, it was brutally cold. The wind was whipping across the fields and you're supposed to stand out by the rocks and listen to an audio tour from a receiver you hold up to your ear. The tour is mostly interesting and well-made, but when your hand starts to frostbite, it makes you less appreciative of phrases like, "And then Mesolithic Man slipped the large stones, like giant teeth, into the gums of the earth."

Brits Have Bad Teeth

This knack for overblown phrasing coupled with incredibly precise word choices continues in the signage around London - especially in the Underground.

This sign was beside the lift in the Earl's Court station:

Somehow "The other doesn't bear thinking about" doesn't have the same ring to it as "If you see something, say something." But then they also have signs like these:

BOMBS! Now that's a word I'm very glad hasn't found its way into any of our GUTENBERG! reviews. Or should I said, "It plucks my heartstrings brightly, the knowledge that such an exclamation lies withheld from the revered musings of the capital city's critical journalists."

UPDATE
The Daily Telegraph review just came in and includes the sentence, "With the speedy professionalism of bulldozers demolishing a monstrous carbuncle, King and Brown dismantle the clichéd cornices and sentimental cornerstones that so tarnish musical theatre's reputation." I rest my case.