Germanic words that mean the same thing as their Greek-, Latin-, or French-derived equivalents (e.g., “skill” or “craft” for “art”) or, when none can be found, coining them on the basis of older English or related languages (e.g., “knowhood” for “information”). The wiki contributors have compiled English-Anglish and Anglish-English dictionaries, and have translated (“overset”) a selection of well-known texts. As the editors themselves admit, the notion that such a thing as “true English” really exists is indefensible: given the tangled history of the language, labeling every word as Germanic or Romance is to a certain extent arbitrary. Moreover, it is manifestly untrue that the new coinages are necessarily easier to understand (for these discussions see the page on the “Goals of Anglish”). But, shaky as its foundations may be, “Anglish” can produce some oddly resonant prose (see, e.g., Kingsnorth, The Wake). For the most part I have chosen coinages that can be deciphered without special knowledge.
“Maraaghah” in §6.1 is Marāghah, a city located in what is now northwestern Iran. For “Sahbaan” see notes on §5.1.
“You have said a dreadful say” (§6.3) is a quotation from the Qurʾan: Maryam 19:89.
“Who knows my arrows better than do I” (§6.4) is a proverb drawn from maysir, a game of chance where players cast arrows to win cuts of a slaughtered animal. For the game to work, each player needed to be able to identify his arrow.
“Breakers-Away” in §6.5 refers to the Khawārij, who were originally any one of the many groups that declared themselves opposed to the larger Islamic community in the course of disagreements over leadership during the first two centuries, and, by extension, means “rebels” or “bandits.” “Aboo Naamah” is al-Qaṭarī ibn Fujāʾah, called Abū Naʿāmah (d. 78 or 79/697–98 or 698–99), who led a two-decade-long insurrection against the Umayyads. “If you are a truth-teller . . .” is another Qurʾanic quotation: Shuʿarāʾ 26:154.
In keeping with its elegiac theme, the poem in §6.7 is modeled on Tennyson’s In Memoriam, while the one in §6.8 recasts verses from “Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift, D. S. P. D.” by Jonathan Swift.
Bibliography
The Anglish Moot. http://anglish.wikia.com/wiki/Main_leaf.
Kingsnorth, Paul. The Wake. London: Unbound, 2014.
Swift, Jonathan. “Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift, D. S. P. D.” In Irish Poetry, edited by W. J. McCormack. New York: NYU Press, 2000, 32–45, at 40–41.
[Tennyson]. Alfred, Lord Tennyson. In Memoriam. Edited by William J. Rolfe. Boston: , 1895.
Imposture 7
Gangs of New Saybin
This episode features a blind Abū Zayd and an unidentified old woman working together as peddlers. The old woman distributes copies of a poem containing a request for money and people who wish to keep a copy must pay for it. The poems being their stock in trade, the peddlers are careful to collect all the unwanted copies for reuse. No one is coerced into paying anything, but, like most of Abū Zayd’s other activities, this one entails fraud, in this case because he is not really blind. At the end of this story, he pulls another fast one by eating the food al-Ḥārith offers him and then sneaking out of the house. Presumably he does this to avoid having to sing for his supper, though the reason is never properly explained. In keeping with the theme of well-practiced fraud, all the characters in the English rendering use the argot spoken by mid-nineteenth-century swindlers, thieves, and rowdies in New York, as compiled by George Matsell in his Vocabulum; or, The Rogue’s Lexicon (1859).
7.1El-Hâret Ebn Hammâm whiddled this whole scrap:
I was set to leg it out of Barkaid, but I could smell the festival gathering like a storm, and I didn’t want to hop the twig before the jeffey. When the Bairam came, with its row and fanfare, its liturgies and articles, I upheld ancient custom and sallied out rum-togged in a new set of duds. Around the autum, the stir had gotten in kelter, and the coves in the push were starting to whiffle. Just then an old sharp in tats rose to his feet. Over his peepers was a tatty-tog, and under his rammer a knapsack. An old hen with a bracket-mug was leading him around. Staggering, he moused a salutation. Then he dipped into his bag and took out some pieces of scrip scratched in different colors. Handing them to the harridan, he told her to gun the flats in the push. If any looked bene and plump, she was to give them each a stiff.
7.2As Old Shoe would have it, one of the gapeseeds came to me. On it was this glibe:
Old Poger has made me swim for my swag,
But lenten in my panny is my pap-lap;
For his sweet sake tip us a rag.
I’ve been rooked by curlers who sweat the bag,
I’ve been bilked by burners for a goose-cap;
Old Poger has made me swim for my swag.
If only I could square it and turn stag!
But kinchin needs scran in his flatter-trap;
For his sweet sake tip us a rag.
I’ve been kimbawed and tied with a gag,
And lost my regulars after the scrapp;
Old Poger has made me swim for my swag.
He’s made me heave peters off a drag,
And when my squeaker whindles, I tap.
For his sweet sake slip us a rag.
I’m rum-bit by the best—not to brag:
By coves that lace, and coves that snap;
Old Poger has made me swim for my swag,
For our sweet sake tip us a rag.
7.3When I had measured the way those lines had been laid out I got smoky, and I wanted to get the party who dealt them down close. A rover came into my nouse-box: I’d use the trot to rope him in, dawbing her as if she were a dookin mort. So I gunned her as she worked the rows one by one, asking the coves in the push to post some sugar. But it was a no go: the gripe-fists were
