11 March, 2010

‘Lullaby’ Part II – a universal music

The soft sound of falling rain outside gives us permission to stay in these cozy hearthside armchairs for the second half of our exploration. May I refill your mug? Did you know that the word “lull” was actually recorded in the mid-17th century to mean “soothing drink”? Now, we can return to our study of lullaby while we sip our lulls! How fitting.

Last time we discussed the formation of the word from Middle English exclamations lulla! and by!, and heard that the pronunciation of lulla, according to the “Coventry Carol” of 1591, was probably “loo-la”: “oo” as in “soothe” as opposed to the short “u” sound we use today. We deduced that the original meaning of the combined exclamations was quite probably “the means you use to create calm (in someone).” But digging deeper, where does this lulla come from? This is what we have been waiting for: the root, the “final” key. I’m eager to see if you think I’ve found it.

The root of our modern noun “lull” is the Middle English lulle, a form of lulla (remember, pronounced “lool” and “loola”). As for its meaning, all I found is the explanation “imitative of sounds used to calm an infant.” So evidently, the parents of medieval England used these “lool” sounds to comfort their children. But here comes the exciting part: so do other parents, in other languages, in other continents.

Yes! I am grinning, because I can see your eyes widen – and I know mine are dancing. Comparative linguistics enters here like a shaft of sunlight breaking through the rain clouds, sparkling through the wet windowpane and illuminating the space between our feet. So let’s compare: Latin lallare means “sing to sleep”; Swedish lulla “hum a lullaby”; Dutch and German share the word lullen. But Zulu? Yes, in Zulu, the word thula (pronounced “too-la”) means “be silent/quiet” and is a common refrain used to calm children. Many artists have recorded the famous Zulu lullaby “Thula Mama” (I have a nice version by Sibongile Khumalo). If you know any other languages that use similar sounds to calm children, please tell me!

Now consider our use of the “oo” sound in related English words: soothe, croon, coo . . . Can you think of any others? What about Billy Joel’s “Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)”? I can hear the bridge in my mind: “Loo loo loo loo loo loo loo. . .”

And so it seems that we humans, regardless of language or culture, may use similar sounds to soothe our infants. That our “lullabies” are in fact loo-la-bies. Where then, you ask, did the short “u” sound in our words “lull” and “lullaby” come from? This would seem to cast a shadow on my theory.

My conclusion is that in this case, our spoken language may have been transformed by the written word: the orthography began to dictate the pronunciation. Follow me here: the noun “lull” used to be lulle – perhaps the “e” was dropped, and without the “e” to make the “u” sound long, it became short. One could argue that the reverse is true: that the spoken word changed and the spelling reflected the change. In any case, thanks to the endurance of the “Coventry Carol” and similar words in other languages, we have discovered our linguistic ancestors’ pronunciation and understand its true soothing power. (Just try repeating “lull” over and over; rather choppy in comparison, don’t you think?)

Well, thank you for acquiescing to the living room setting this week. Upon reflection, the many roads offered by our comparative linguistics study were like spokes coming out of a roundabout: if we had taken just one road, we would have missed the big picture. Lullaby behooved us to stay in one place and contemplate the possibilities. Now that we’re rested, we will put on our sandals next week and head for a distant shore.

In the meantime, don’t let your language lull you into a false sense of security. (Now, where did that meaning come from – is it related to nightmare?)

- Ety

P.S. - Do you hear what I hear? Here are audio files of the songs mentioned in this study:

Coventry Carol


Loreena McKennitt - Coventry Carol .mp3


Found at bee mp3 search engine

Thula Mama


Soweto Gospel Choir - Thula Mama .mp3


Found at bee mp3 search engine

Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) by Billy Joel


Billy Joel - Goodnight My Angel .mp3


Found at bee mp3 search engine

04 March, 2010

'Lullaby' (Part I) - a gentler journey

Last week’s trek to the Dark Ages left me exhausted, so I’ve settled into one of these comfy chairs by the fireplace to speculate on this week’s word: lullaby. Please, have a seat – I left the better one for you. Would you like a mug of coffee or tea?

You have probably noticed our dream theme – we began with gossamer, the title of a recent novel about dreams, and then delved into the dark history of nightmare. So, exploring the path of lullaby seemed like a restful and fitting addition to our study of dream-related words.

I lay my head back on the plush upholstery, close my eyes, and begin this armchair journey by sinking into my own memories of lullabies. The crackling in this present hearth mixes with the crooning of past voices; the warmth of the fire with the remembrance of a warm infant in my arms. An infant who wasn’t always keen on sleeping, but needed sleep so badly. I was rocking, singing, bouncing, lulling.

The haunting refrain “Lully, lullay” from the “Coventry Carol” echoes in my mind. Written in 1591, thus one of the oldest carols to retain both its tune and lyrics, this song is a fascinating snapshot of the English language (and an excellent window into our study):

Lully, lullay, Thou little tiny Child,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

In the remainder of the lyrics, a woman agonizes over how to save this child from King Herod’s slaughter of the innocents (after the Wise Men visited the Christ child). Not a comforting lullaby – because we know the ending – but she at least tries to quiet the child so the soldiers won’t hear him. Regardless of the mournful topic, this refrain confirms the two major elements of today’s word: a combination of the late Middle English interjections “lulla! and “by!

Lulla seems to be a verb form of the late Middle English noun lulle, which is the ancestor of our noun “lull.” Let’s see what the etymology entry says for lulle . . . ah, yes, here it is: “imitative of sounds used to calm a child” (NOAD). Hmm . . . For the by part, we could assume that our linguistic ancestors meant goodby. But I’ve already looked that one up, so I can tell you: goodby is a contraction of “God be with you,” formerly common parting words. So, what do you think by could mean?

I know we’ve traded our walking shoes for the plush carpet today, but let’s imagine a cramped medieval peasant’s hut at twilight. The father and older children have had dinner, but not much of it; a mother is holding a screaming baby that is annoying them all. The father has had enough. “Lulla!” he yells. “By!” Translation? “Shut up and go to sleep already!” or, more tactfully, “Give us some quiet, right now!” His wife takes the baby outside and starts singing to it.

In this interpretation, the word lullaby may have been formed in an effort to say “the means by which (-by) one calms an infant (lulla-)” – which is usually singing. But there is more of a story here, I have a feeling . . . and my hunch says it’s hiding behind our modern word lull.

Please forgive me for this lull in our conversation – I need some more time to pull together my thoughts.

Feel free to stay and enjoy the lullaby that the hearth is singing. I hope to be finished with Part II before you awaken.

Ety