Friday 15 July 2011

Yourselves is the new you

I have a story to tell.  It's about you and Pippa Middleton and Shakespeare and chavs.

Are you sitting comfortably? It all began when the phone rang...


Patronisingly literal visual accompaniment.


"Was that yourselves I was speaking to earlier?" asked the caller, shortly before I reached through the telephone and punched him so hard in the face that his face, and then the entire universe, collapsed in on his face.

That reflexive pronoun is immensely irritating. Particularly in the plural. Yourselves?  Massive idiot. But then, gasp, I heard myself say it. At which point, of course, it shifted from unforgivable grammatical transgression into credible and incisive demonstration of the zeitgeist.  So - and I do this not to defend the use of bad English, only to defend my use of bad English - I herewith suggest a vaguely-credible excuse for my actions.

Let me take you back to slightly before Shakespeare's time.  Please.  Go on, it'll be fun. Thenabouts, the English language did the 'you' thing by:

Singular - thou / thee
Plural - you / ye

But, about Shakespear's time, 'you' could be used to mean the singular or plural (like today), and also had an additional special role.  I draw your attention to a bit of Henry IV, pt 1.  You may have been made to read this at school.  But, because I can't differentiate between the singular and plural 'you', you don't know how many of you I am talking to.  Do you?

Anyway - I digress.  Henry IV, Pt 1, Act II, scene 3.  You will of course remember it well.  Hotspur has to leave his wife that night (played in my imagination by Pippa Middleton) and romp off.  She, however, just wants her husband to stay with her.  She is probably wearing quite a slinky nightie.

Kate:  Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? Well, do not then; for since you love me not, I will not love myself. Do you not love me? Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.

Hotpsur: Come, wilt thou see me ride? And when I am on horseback, I will swear I love thee infinitely...

Kate, as befitting an inferior (ie a lady), is using 'you'.  Hotspur is brushing off Kate's pleas for intimacy, and demonstrating his superior manliness by using the more formal 'thou'.  But, at the very end of the scene, Hotspur leans in to Kate's ear and whispers:

But hark you, Kate.  Whither I go, thither shall you go too;  To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.  Will this content you, Kate?

So, here, Hotspur's 'you' is an intimate, placatory moment with his wife.  He lowers himself to her level. And then he romps off <spoiler> and gets killed </spoiler>.


Christie's Director of Books & Manuscripts Thomas Venning holding 
Shakespeare's first folio
He is also imagining Pippa Middleton.


What's my point?  Well, today, we only have 'you' - there is no 'thou'.  Which means that we can't use that distinction to indicate subservience / dominance.  And we English are unconsciously very careful about breaking social rules / causing a scene / being impolite.  We don't want accidentally to say 'thou'.

Which is where the earlier 'yourselves' come in. It's being used like Kate's subservient 'you' above. 'Yourselves' is the new 'you' - it's the only plural version we've got left.  This stress is particularly important over the phone, where we are robbed of various non-verbal indicators (apologetic smile, upturned palms, friendly lick of the face).  'Youselves' is a defensive, diffuse, offence-avoiding 'you' - 'Was it someone, somewhere, quite possibly not you personally, in your office to whom I spoke before...?'

Does this mean that you (pl.) should all use 'yourselves' at every opportunity? No, please, please don't. But, perhaps, you (sing.) may understand why certain weak-minded fools might. Even if it does make them sound like utter plebs.

Kate:  Does yourselves not love myselves? does yourselves not, indeed? Well, do not then; for since yourselves loves myselves not, I will not love myselves. Does yourselves not love myselves? Nay, tell myselves if yourselves speak in jest or no.

It's the sort of thing you might hear in an Elizabethan Gregg's the Bakers.  In Skelmersdale.


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