Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Maximum Spin]

When the Germans first did the printing press sometimes they needed to fill in "gaps" if a whole sentence didn't fit on the printing rack so sometimes when printing English or French texts they just added random s's and f's which became part of standard spelling

Can you give an example? I have never seen this in a reputable etymology.

[Schmaven]

Also lacking references here, but I heard French has soo many silent letters is because it was originally just a spoken language and when it was made written, the translators got paid by the letter.

[Loud Whispers]

When the Germans first did the printing press sometimes they needed to fill in "gaps" if a whole sentence didn't fit on the printing rack so sometimes when printing English or French texts they just added random s's and f's which became part of standard spelling

Can you give an example? I have never seen this in a reputable etymology.

covfefe

[Maximum Spin]

When the Germans first did the printing press sometimes they needed to fill in "gaps" if a whole sentence didn't fit on the printing rack so sometimes when printing English or French texts they just added random s's and f's which became part of standard spelling

Can you give an example? I have never seen this in a reputable etymology.

covfefe

Oh, okay, so you were just being facetious. I really hoped so, but, you know, I have seen so much of that kind of claim lately that I had to be sure.

I'm gonna assume Schmaven is too.

[dragdeler]

I think silent letters are ok, At first they make words harder to write but then they usually make them easier to understand.

[Loud Whispers]

Oh, okay, so you were just being facetious. I really hoped so, but, you know, I have seen so much of that kind of claim lately that I had to be sure.

I'm gonna assume Schmaven is too.

More seriously:

Moveable type was a wonderful invention: once the type had been set, you could print off as many copies as you wanted. But setting the letters, or pieces of type, into lines, and then pages, was intense, specialised labour. You had to spend years learning the trade. For his new press, Caxton brought typesetters back with him from the Continent, and some didn’t even speak English all that well. They set type working from manuscripts that already had quite a bit of variation, and the overriding priority was getting them set quickly.

Some standards did spread and crystallise over time, as more books were printed and literacy rates climbed. The printing profession played a key role in these emergent norms. Printing houses developed habits for spelling frequent words, often based on what made setting type more efficient. In a manuscript, hadde might be replaced with had; thankefull with thankful. When it came to spelling, the primary objective wasn’t to faithfully represent the author’s spelling, nor to uphold some standard idea of ‘correct’ English – it was to produce texts that people could read and, more importantly, that they would buy. Habits and tricks became standards, as typesetters learned their trade by apprenticing to other typesetters. They then often moved around as journeymen workers, which entailed dispersing their own habits or picking up those of the printing houses they worked in.

Some spellings got entrenched by being printed over and over again in widely distributed texts, very early on

Standard-setting was only partly in the hands of the people setting the type. Even more so, it was down to a growing reading public. The more texts there were, the more reading there was, and the greater the sensibility about what looks right. Once that sense develops, it can be a very powerful enforcer of norms. These norms in the literacy of English speakers today are so well entrenched that simple adjustments are very jarring. If ai trai tu repreezent mai akshuel pronownseeayshun in raiteeng, yu kan reed it, but its difikelt and disterbeeng tu du soh. It just looks wrong, and that feeling of wrongness interrupts the flow of reading. The fluency of reading depends on the speed with which you visually identify the words, and the speed of identification increases with exposure. The more we see a word, the more quickly we recognise it, even if its spelling doesn’t match the sound.

Some spellings got entrenched this way, by being printed over and over again in widely distributed texts, very early on. The word ghost, which had been spelled and pronounced gast in Old English, took on the gh spelling under the influence of Flemish-trained compositors. It was such a commonly encountered word in English text, particularly in the phrase holy ghost and other translations of Latin spiritus, that it just began to look right.

Other spellings arose, and were then cemented through the power exerted by the visual shape of similar words. The existence of would and should, for example, brought about the spelling of could. Would and should were once pronounced with the ‘l’ sound, as they were the past-tense forms of will and shall. Could, however, was never pronounced with an ‘l’; it was the past tense of can. Could was coude or cuthe. Then the visual power of would and should attracted could to their side. At printing’s rise, the ‘l’ sound was already often absent from the pronunciation of would and should, so the ‘l’ was less a cue to pronunciation than to word type. Could is a modal verb, same as would and should. There was no explicit intention to make them look the same, but the frequency of their appearance nudged them toward ending up that way.

[dragdeler]

Well ghost looks beyond faithful to me: gast means invitee in flemish, g-host.

Then again when looking at old english you kind of don't have orthography. Take french for example, it is arbitrary AF but at least it sticks to one ruleset, even if it basically adds an exception every 4 and a half words... Whereas english seems to noncomittally switch between logics.   

Could -> cuthe? clearly the poor monk didn't know how to write it in the first place spare me the etymology I'm sure it's quite a reach anyway.

[Jopax]

Was doing some overdue cleanup of my desk/room last night, as I just finished my Zeta gundam model the box was a convenient method of disposal. I made sure to take out everything that was usable before tossing it this morning as I left for work. Looking to start a new model I now realize I most likely tossed out one of my good plastic nippers as well. Wasn't super expensive but it wasn't cheap either and what's worse even if I order a replacement right now I wouldn't get it for a good while :V

And even if I didn't throw it out I'm betting I'll find it only after the new one arrives :V

[Maximum Spin]

Oh, okay, so you were just being facetious. I really hoped so, but, you know, I have seen so much of that kind of claim lately that I had to be sure.

I'm gonna assume Schmaven is too.

More seriously:

Moveable type was a wonderful invention: once the type had been set, you could print off as many copies as you wanted. But setting the letters, or pieces of type, into lines, and then pages, was intense, specialised labour. You had to spend years learning the trade. For his new press, Caxton brought typesetters back with him from the Continent, and some didn’t even speak English all that well. They set type working from manuscripts that already had quite a bit of variation, and the overriding priority was getting them set quickly.

Some standards did spread and crystallise over time, as more books were printed and literacy rates climbed. The printing profession played a key role in these emergent norms. Printing houses developed habits for spelling frequent words, often based on what made setting type more efficient. In a manuscript, hadde might be replaced with had; thankefull with thankful. When it came to spelling, the primary objective wasn’t to faithfully represent the author’s spelling, nor to uphold some standard idea of ‘correct’ English – it was to produce texts that people could read and, more importantly, that they would buy. Habits and tricks became standards, as typesetters learned their trade by apprenticing to other typesetters. They then often moved around as journeymen workers, which entailed dispersing their own habits or picking up those of the printing houses they worked in.

Some spellings got entrenched by being printed over and over again in widely distributed texts, very early on

Standard-setting was only partly in the hands of the people setting the type. Even more so, it was down to a growing reading public. The more texts there were, the more reading there was, and the greater the sensibility about what looks right. Once that sense develops, it can be a very powerful enforcer of norms. These norms in the literacy of English speakers today are so well entrenched that simple adjustments are very jarring. If ai trai tu repreezent mai akshuel pronownseeayshun in raiteeng, yu kan reed it, but its difikelt and disterbeeng tu du soh. It just looks wrong, and that feeling of wrongness interrupts the flow of reading. The fluency of reading depends on the speed with which you visually identify the words, and the speed of identification increases with exposure. The more we see a word, the more quickly we recognise it, even if its spelling doesn’t match the sound.

Some spellings got entrenched this way, by being printed over and over again in widely distributed texts, very early on. The word ghost, which had been spelled and pronounced gast in Old English, took on the gh spelling under the influence of Flemish-trained compositors. It was such a commonly encountered word in English text, particularly in the phrase holy ghost and other translations of Latin spiritus, that it just began to look right.

Other spellings arose, and were then cemented through the power exerted by the visual shape of similar words. The existence of would and should, for example, brought about the spelling of could. Would and should were once pronounced with the ‘l’ sound, as they were the past-tense forms of will and shall. Could, however, was never pronounced with an ‘l’; it was the past tense of can. Could was coude or cuthe. Then the visual power of would and should attracted could to their side. At printing’s rise, the ‘l’ sound was already often absent from the pronunciation of would and should, so the ‘l’ was less a cue to pronunciation than to word type. Could is a modal verb, same as would and should. There was no explicit intention to make them look the same, but the frequency of their appearance nudged them toward ending up that way.

Yes, all of this I had been aware of before. It was the idea of adding special bonus letters to fill printing racks that wasn't true.

[Loud Whispers]

Yes, all of this I had been aware of before. It was the idea of adding special bonus letters to fill printing racks that wasn't true.

Sos it's very hard to find source for my claims, as I was told it as a wee lad by my teachers a lifetime ago. I do have this for what it's worth

There were a few forces at play. The Dutch also had their fair share. They were experts at introducing extra letters. In 1465 William Caxton presented printing to England. Unfortunately for the 'already confused' English spelt words, these printing machines were manned by Dutch technicians who were a crafty lot. Printers were being paid by the letter and to get on the gravy train they just made the odd word longer or they included additional letters to the last word of a line to make the text appear tidier. They also added a few extra letters here and there with the excuse that they didn't understand English handwriting. Another factor was that people wrote how they spoke in their regional dialects. So when printing was introduced, a mixture of regional spellings and words were used. English spelling was spiraling out of control.

[Frumple]

English spelling was spiraling out of control.

"was"

lol

lmao, even

E: It's a mildly amusing(?) thing, but I very deliberately inflict microaggressions against extraneous 'u's as part of my job. There is no "colour" in any MARC record I touch in our library catalog, even the ones I originally copied from the UK or australia or whatever. It's extra pointed since standards changed and we (are supposed to, anyway) stop abbreviating a lot of things, so the previously ubiquitous "col." shortening used when describing items (color illustrations -- col. illus, before -- most commonly, but color in describing videorecordings is common, too) is being deliberately changed to color, sans u, as I encounter them :V

[Maximum Spin]

"colr" would be fine, honestly.

[hector13]

Just excise vowels, w dn’t nd thm.

[dragdeler]

Oh man u the o man.

[scriver]

Why use lot word when few word do trick