It arrived without warning. Flushed with excitement, I immediately opened the email, eager to read its contents. Little did I realize that I was opening not so much an email as an absolute Pandora’s worm. It began with a simple if not traditional greeting of ‘hello Stuart’ before taking me to task for a sizeable violation of the English language. Had I accidently reverted to my native Esperanto without realizing? Relied too heavily on facial expressions? Apparently not. My crime was far greater than any of these. I had, it seems, used the word ‘gotten’ in an article.
It arrived without warning. Flushed with excitement, I immediately opened the email, eager to read its contents. Little did I realize that I was opening not so much an email as an absolute Pandora’s worm. It began with a simple if not traditional greeting of ‘hello Stuart’ before taking me to task for a sizeable violation of the English language. Had I accidently reverted to my native Esperanto without realizing? Relied too heavily on facial expressions? Apparently not. My crime was far greater than any of these. I had, it seems, used the word ‘gotten’ in an article.
The email was as simple as it was devastating. It said that ‘gotten’ appears in neither the Oxford nor Webster dictionaries. It then informed me that ‘gotten’ is an American term, the past participle of the term ‘get’. It was at this point that I noted the almost complete absence of anything in the email resembling grammar. Under those heightened circumstances, it seemed a touch harsh of my correspondent to want to castigate me for using the word ‘gotten’ whilst simultaneously forsaking anything resembling a proper sentence. I contemplated correcting the errors and returning the email, but averred for fear it might seem confrontational. Clearly, my correspondent was on a mission. I would need to apologise, forthwith.
I could start by telling him that I don’t know what possessed me. I’d say ‘I don’t know what had gotten into me’ but that might prompt a further email. The missive concluded with the entreaty, ‘We are Australians not Yanks so forget the word Gotten… Aussie language only please.’ Once heard, it’s difficult to forget a word like ‘gotten’, but I’ll do my best. So in response to that heartfelt appeal to avoid culturally inappropriate terms and stick to the Australian vernacular, allow me to declare that I will absolutely, categorically, fo’ shizzle, do my upmost from this moment on.
That said, I must admit to being curious as to the claim that the term ‘gotten’ is notable for its absence from both the Oxford and Webster Dictionaries. I am mindful, too, that the Webster dictionary is, in fact, quintessentially American, having first been published either Emmanuel Lewis during the 1984 production break of the sitcom ‘Webster’ or by Noah Webster in the early nineteenth Century. Either way, the Webster dictionary is absolutely, 100% American. Not that Noah Webster didn’t have his own critics to contend with.
In 1806, Webster published ‘A Compendious Dictionary of the English Language’. It’s a great pity that all dictionaries do not have a title as plainly superb as Webster’s first effort. But instead of universal acclaim, he was severely criticized by some. Whether this was for including or omitting the term ‘gotten’ is no longer known. I doubt, however, it was by email. He upped the ante a few decades later with a two-volume version that was denounced as radical and saw some openly question the sanity of the author. All the same, his suggested spellings for words such as ‘center’ and ‘color’ have continued to this day, even if his proposals for ‘wimmen’ and ‘groop’ never got off the ground. Perhaps it’s just as well.
As for the Oxford dictionary, with the possible exception of HP Sauce and The Beatles, it’s hard to think of anything more English. I do, however, have an Oxford dictionary and after receiving the email, immediately set about seeing if the rumours were true. Bless its gotten socks, the term ‘gotten’ does, in fact, appear in the Oxford dictionary, albeit it fleetingly. Under the term ‘gotten’ it simply reads, ‘see GET’. Presumably the ‘LOST’ is silent. Flipping back a few pages I discover under ‘get’ that it is, indeed, an American variant.
But what of it? I don’t mean to quibble, but despite what my correspondent may think, ‘Aussie’ is not actually a language. Not that it’s a bad idea. In fact, were it up to me I’d like to see English abolished as our primary language in favour of something that’s entirely homegrown. Forget becoming a Republic – the true path to independence comes by having your own language. If those folks at Star Trek can invent ‘Klingon’, surely it’s not beyond us? Imagine it. Just as Eskimos are said to have more than fifty words for ‘snow’, ‘Aussie’ could take the same approach to ‘beer’. Finally, someone would be able to accurately translate the lyrics of ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi’. The possibilities are endless…
It’s always nice to receive correspondence, but I’m not sure quite how to take a demand to only use ‘Aussie’. Part of me is tempted to placate the various sheilas, blokes and drongos who feel so strongly about it, whilst the rest of me is quite comfortable stealing language from where I please. Frankly, I never meant to generate this level of conflict. I simply can’t believe the mess that I’ve gotten getted gettended myself into. It seems I have little choice – the time has finally come to abandon English altogether and to go ‘full time’ with Esperanto. Or Klingon. Or maybe I shouldn’t worry so much and just relax. It is, after all, much ado about nothing. Or, as they say in Klingon, paghmo’ tIn mIS.