Call that a muffin?: Conclusion

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There are also cases where the same word is used to denote different things. One of these is the word the Brits use colloquially to refer to the posterior or backside (I believe this is the first time in this column I have discussed that part of the human anatomy, but then there’s a first time for everything!) In the UK we say “bum”, but in the US it’s “arse” or “butt.” In American English “bum” denotes a vagrant or beggar, as in “please be kind to that bum on the sidewalk.” (I can imagine my long-suffering editor muttering under his breath “that’s the last time you talk about bums in this newspaper.”)

Another example is “muffin.” In the UK this denotes a food item made of dough (which rhymes with “tow”, of course). It’s savoury and toasted and usually served at breakfast with eggs. In the US a muffin is a small sweet cake, favourite flavourings for which are chocolate and blueberries. Now, I’m fond of both, but I do get annoyed when I go into a coffee-shop at home and see on the menu “English muffins.” I mean, what kind of muffin would you expect to be served in an English coffee-shop? (Hey, though, language use is fluid. I just used the term “coffee-shop”, though in England we more commonly say “café).

Café is a word that English has borrowed from French, that is, a loan word. And that leads me to my next topic, using examples from French.
We’re turning now to false friends. I am not referring here to those friends of mine in Lesotho who neglect to write to me, but to a concept in language studies relating to a word in one language that looks just like a word in another language but which has a different meaning.

There are lots of these between English and French, owing to the impact the latter had on the former following the invasion of 1066. An obvious example is (French) “librairie”, which looks like (English) “library”, but in fact denotes “bookshop.” The French word for “library” is “bibliothèque.”

Another (rather complicated) one has to do with “ancien” or “ancienne” (French, masculine and feminine forms) and (English) “ancient.” The French word can have the same meaning as the English, but is also equivalent to the English “former”, as in the phrase “l’ancien régime.”

Another French word equivalent to “ancient” is “antique.” In English this word denotes an old object of value, eagerly sought after by collectors, such as an eighteenth-century silver salt-cellar. But wait. The English used to use “antique” where now we use “ancient”, as in the opening line of Shelley’s wonderful poem “Ozymandias”: “I met a traveller from an antique land.” As I said, it’s complicated.

Finally, examples from Sesotho and Setswana. Now, I’m sure my readers know that these languages are very closely related — indeed, historically Setswana emerged as an offshoot of Sesotho following the dispersal of people during the Zulu onslaught. One obvious difference between the two is that in greeting people “Mme”, “abuti” and “ausi” are the same in both languages, but instead of “ntate” the Batswana say “ra.” When I was living in Mafikeng, Basotho visitors would arrive and, chatting away to locals, would find that the two languages are mutually intelligible. But between Sesotho and Setswana there are false friends.

Though I’ve not been able to confirm this, I’m pretty sure there’s a phrase that in Sesotho means “I’m satisfied (thanks)”— as in, no, thanks, I don’t want more food — while in Setswana the same phrase means “I’m fed up.” And if memory serves me correctly there is “ke lapile”, which in Sesotho means “I’m hun-gry,” but in Setswana means “I’m tired”. Could be difficult, that, when trying to communicate with one’s host.
Cats and dogs have it easy. Grrr miaow.

lChris Dunton is a former Professor of English and Dean of Humanities at the National University of Lesotho.