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 |
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