I brought Enid Blyton’s “The Island of Adventure” with me to the hospital last month. I figured the easy-to-read children’s book would help pass the time without making me completely exhausted.
I was discharged before I made it to Chapter 4, but at least the book kept brought me to the rocky hillside of north Britain for a few hours. With sentences like “It was pleasant at tea time that day” and “It was really most extraordinary,” I almost start reading it with a British accent.
During my first few days home from the surgery, a friend dropped by a stack of books. “P.S. I Love You” by Cecelia Ahern immediately caught my attention, and it took me to Ireland for about a week, where people go to pubs and wear trainers and knickers and jumpers and sometimes have to go to hospital (without the “the,” which has always fascinated me – how can British English and American English be so different in some regards?).
Another book dropped into the mail a few days later from a friend in Sweden – “500 Reasons Why I Hate The Office.” It’s the perfect book to keep on my desk at work, of course, but after skimming through the first 65 pages or so, I realized it was just a bit too British for me. Perhaps it is that I don’t work in a regular office, per se, or maybe it was just the fact that I don’t have to deal with “client entertainment” or “office creeps” or “dress codes.” It was funny, though, to read about organisations (spelled with an “s” instead of a “z”) and “socialising (same thing) with colleagues.”
But it wasn’t until I picked up Bill Bryson’s “Notes from a Small Island,” – where he tours England one last time before moving back to the United States – that I realized all my recent books had centered around the British (well, and Irish). Bryson took me on a trip via motorways and Marks & Spencer to zebra crossings and Towcester (pronounced “toaster,” allegedly). And again, I am reminded how much I like his humor and self-loathing voice.
I was discharged before I made it to Chapter 4, but at least the book kept brought me to the rocky hillside of north Britain for a few hours. With sentences like “It was pleasant at tea time that day” and “It was really most extraordinary,” I almost start reading it with a British accent.
During my first few days home from the surgery, a friend dropped by a stack of books. “P.S. I Love You” by Cecelia Ahern immediately caught my attention, and it took me to Ireland for about a week, where people go to pubs and wear trainers and knickers and jumpers and sometimes have to go to hospital (without the “the,” which has always fascinated me – how can British English and American English be so different in some regards?).
Another book dropped into the mail a few days later from a friend in Sweden – “500 Reasons Why I Hate The Office.” It’s the perfect book to keep on my desk at work, of course, but after skimming through the first 65 pages or so, I realized it was just a bit too British for me. Perhaps it is that I don’t work in a regular office, per se, or maybe it was just the fact that I don’t have to deal with “client entertainment” or “office creeps” or “dress codes.” It was funny, though, to read about organisations (spelled with an “s” instead of a “z”) and “socialising (same thing) with colleagues.”
But it wasn’t until I picked up Bill Bryson’s “Notes from a Small Island,” – where he tours England one last time before moving back to the United States – that I realized all my recent books had centered around the British (well, and Irish). Bryson took me on a trip via motorways and Marks & Spencer to zebra crossings and Towcester (pronounced “toaster,” allegedly). And again, I am reminded how much I like his humor and self-loathing voice.
1 comment:
It's not only that British English is different from American English, Brits are different from the Yankees too. Very much so, indeed.
You made me want to re-read Enid Blyton, just for all the pleasant tea times.
"500 reasons..." should be read a page or two at a time I think, anything else would be rather overwhelming. And it should certainly not be placed on your desk at work! Dear me...
Post a Comment