What's An Idiom Between Friends?

 

An idiom is a phrase, saying or a group of words with a metaphorical [not a literal] meaning which has become accepted in common use. An idiom’s symbolic sense is quite different from the literal meaning or definition of the words used. It is estimated that there are around 25,000 idiomatic expressions in the English language.

Idioms, in fact, help to evolve a language, making it more intense, exciting and dynamic. They provide, or add, considerable illustration to ordinary speech, making everyday language more colourful and often, insightful. Native speakers usually use idiomatic phrases with which they are familiar, without consideration, rather like cliches. They are familiar but useful aids to express emotion or add

descriptive power. To the non-native speaker however, idioms can be bewildering because the intention of a particular idiom is symbolic and the surface language is often incomprehensible.

The reason for this sudden rush of blood to the head about idioms, is because I recently used
the phrase, ‘beyond the pale’ to a Flemish friend who didn’t understand it. While I had no trouble in explaining what the phrase signified I did not know the derivation of the idiom at all.. Now I do!! AND it is really interesting! The general use of ‘pale’ now is as an adjective meaning whitish/light in colour [cf Procol Harum’s Lighter Shade of Pale!] However, the noun, ‘a pale’ is [or was.] a stake or a pointed piece of wood though this use is obsolete now. A variant of it, ‘paling’ is still in use; we can say, ‘a paling fence’ and the verb ‘impale’ is also 

A paling fence.

current. For our present purpose, the paling fence is significant as the term, ‘pale’ came to mean the area enclosed by such a fence. Later that came to mean, figuratively, ‘ an area that is enclosed and safe.’ SO to be beyond the pale came to mean to be outside the area that was safe, that was accepted as home.

Catherine the Great created the Pale of Settlement in Russia in 1791. This title referred to the area of the western border region of the country in which Jews were allowed to live. Apparently, the motive behind the designation, Pale of Settlement, was to restrict trade between Jews and
native Russians. However, some favoured Jews were allowed to live, as a concession, ‘beyond the Pale,’ where, incidentally, they could be both economically more free but probably, existentially less safe. Pales were enforced in some other European countries for similar political/economic reasons, notably the Pale of Dublin [Ireland] and the Pale of Calais, created as early as 1360. [France]

The Pale of Settlement is the central, pale blue section.

Sir John Harington 1560-16!".

The phrase itself came much later than 1360! The first printed reference was seen in 1657 in John Harington’s lyric poem, ‘The History of Polindor and Flostella’. The character, Orthens, takes his love to a country lodge for ‘quiet calm and ease’ but they later dare to go out and ‘Both Dove-like roved forth beyond the pale to planted Myrtle-walk.’ Alas, the lovers are attacked outside and the message from the poem is clear: ‘ If there IS a pale, good people stay inside it to be safe.’ The poem was published only in 1657 though Harington had died in 1612 so the phrase must have been in use by 1612 if it was his original phrase, or earlier if not. There is no written evidence of earlier usage, i.e. before 1612..

There are no doubt innumerable examples of this phrase in modern use. Obama, in The Audacity of Hope, described certain capital crimes as ‘beyond the pale’ as did Senator Paul Ryan in 2016, when he condemned racist comments by Trump. Now that I write that, I realise that Trump himself is beyond the pale in every respect. This modern usage means ' to be outside the limits of acceptable behaviour' and it is currently a very strong, adverse condemnation of some event, character or opinion.

Catherine the Great who created 
The Pale of Settlement in 1791.

Moving Forward.

One glorious view from our seats in the 
Oud Huis Amsterdam last Thursday.

Mah Jong on the terrace.

 I have had quite a week with a game of Petanque for three, on Tuesday; coffee with around ten of the ‘girls’ on Wednesday on the terrace of Kaffee Kamiel; Mah Jong for seven on Thursday on my terrace; six of the old group in the garden together at Oud Huis Amsterdam in Genthof; and lunch with my neighbour on the terrace of Bistro de Schilder on Jan Van Eyckplein on Saturday. Truly, my cup runneth over with this sudden restoration of old habits. And the terrace is looking good to add icing to the cake; Danny Boy, my lovely Portuguese friend came by this morning to help with the transplanting of a huge gerbera I bought a week ago. In other words, to do the deed himself! I stood back, as advised, while Daniel did the deed. Maddeningly, the newly-acquired extra age frailty meant that I just couldn’t manage it alone. He was great; gerbera re-homed effortlessly and a gorgeous fuschia swapped out of too much sun with a Solanum in too much shade. To add lustre, Daniel then swept up the mess. I have pondered as to WHY I find it so difficult to ask for help. Think it is because that entails a whole change of self-image; from One Who Helps to One Who Seeks Help. Honestly, the little extra unseen, unexpected, unsought but undeniable aspects of climbing the upper slopes of ageing, can be quite hard to recognise and accept. BUT I am en route!!

Gerberas present but not flamboyantly so, in this photo!
Statue boy dances on, regardless.

I have also wondered if I should consider returning home, i.e. to the UK, at some point, perhaps after my 90^th. The trouble is the huge pleasure I have in living where I now live! My apartment, large and spacious and sunny, suits me perfectly, especially when family and friends can visit again. The last time that happened was January 2020! Since then I have lived here, chiefly in a Lockdown hermitage, a not unpleasant state in principal and in practice, decidedly benign. My terrace remains a joy, a focus of effort it is true, but also of leisure reading and writing, plus an enveloping aesthetic delight. Can I contemplate giving up all of this to go back to an England I have always loved?! It is not, in essence, a Big Ask! Actually, whatever I decide to do, I know I will always achieve without regret! In that I am lucky. But I suddenly remember the right to euthanasia, a very useful tool to have in the back pocket, in case of emergency or necessity. Oh dear, so much to consider!!

This photo is nothing to do with this blog 
BUT a glorious Flemish eccentricity is at work
in my local bakery. It never fails to amuse me
that in addition to what is effectively an
excellent delicatessen counter, a choice of 
three gins is now for sale.

Slightly distant view of the unfinished
Bruges Diptych on Goudenhandrei
reflecting on its fate.
Jan Van Eyck lived near this spot.

Looking further afield, the Bruges Diptych on Goudenhandrei Number Three on the Triennale list, is STILL not completely built with no clue as to why. It is, so far, a compact house silhouette in wood, with planks of virgin wood awaiting incorporation into the finished edifice. It does occur to the casual wanderer, that a family of refugees could make a great home there once a roof was installed. In the meantime, I hear that litter pickers-up are actively sought by Dirk de fauw, the burgemeister, to embellish the efforts of the usual municipal crew. My neighbour has enlisted and has an esoteric collection of bags, gloves, labels to aid her worthy efforts. This is a super effort at community involvement in a necessary, low level endeavour which can only burnish brighter the image of Brugge.
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