Wonderful way to meet your parents again, and this time through the resonances and dissonances around agreeable, disagreeable, and (parental warning)... unsavoury.
My mother was fond of polite circumlocutions. An almost unbearably rude and overbearing woman who was also (inexplicably) a frequent visitor, would be described by mother as ‘unfortunate’. ‘She has an unfortunate manner’.
And if a baby (hers, or a visiting baby) had a full nappy, the odour clearly detectable across the room, my mother would say (to whoever was holding the child)... ‘Is he unpleasant?... Shall I change him?’ We only ever heard this word... unpleasant... to describe a nappy full of shit. Which is, of course, to an older brother or sister, the most revolting thing imaginable.
One day, mother took my brother and me with her to the railway station to see some visiting aunties off on the train (a thing you don’t see often these days). I remember we had to get ‘platform tickets’. We walked them onto the train and then stood outside their carriage window as they leaned out, and whistles blew, and we all waved to each other as the train pulled away... and my mother called to them...”Have a pleasant journey!”
We only had one meaning and one image for that word. We creased up with barely stifled laughter as we imagined our aunties’ train carriage full of shit.
Great story, beautifully told. Such a charming example of the euphemisms our parents' generation used to deal with life's little embarrassments. You've got to love it. The problem, of course, (and I don't want to imply that it's a uniquely English thing) is that euphemisms can also be used, very effectively, to brush disturbing abuses - potentially even criminal ones - under the carpet of middle-class complacency. More of that in the next blog. Thanks so much, Peter - very confirming as ever.
Wonderful way to meet your parents again, and this time through the resonances and dissonances around agreeable, disagreeable, and (parental warning)... unsavoury.
My mother was fond of polite circumlocutions. An almost unbearably rude and overbearing woman who was also (inexplicably) a frequent visitor, would be described by mother as ‘unfortunate’. ‘She has an unfortunate manner’.
And if a baby (hers, or a visiting baby) had a full nappy, the odour clearly detectable across the room, my mother would say (to whoever was holding the child)... ‘Is he unpleasant?... Shall I change him?’ We only ever heard this word... unpleasant... to describe a nappy full of shit. Which is, of course, to an older brother or sister, the most revolting thing imaginable.
One day, mother took my brother and me with her to the railway station to see some visiting aunties off on the train (a thing you don’t see often these days). I remember we had to get ‘platform tickets’. We walked them onto the train and then stood outside their carriage window as they leaned out, and whistles blew, and we all waved to each other as the train pulled away... and my mother called to them...”Have a pleasant journey!”
We only had one meaning and one image for that word. We creased up with barely stifled laughter as we imagined our aunties’ train carriage full of shit.
Laughing out loud! Thanks Gordon.
Can’t wait... holding my breath 😬
Great story, beautifully told. Such a charming example of the euphemisms our parents' generation used to deal with life's little embarrassments. You've got to love it. The problem, of course, (and I don't want to imply that it's a uniquely English thing) is that euphemisms can also be used, very effectively, to brush disturbing abuses - potentially even criminal ones - under the carpet of middle-class complacency. More of that in the next blog. Thanks so much, Peter - very confirming as ever.