Occasionally, reviewers of Agatha Annotated will complain that I define words that “everybody knows.” Congratulations to them for being so well-read! But they aren’t “everybody.” Here’s how I decide what to include in the glossary:
We’re 25 years into the new millennium. Do you remember the admonition “Never trust anyone over thirty?” Well, people born in the new millennium don’t, and they’re almost thirty themselves. That quote is attributed to activist Jack Weinberg speaking in 1964 at U of C, Berkeley, SIXTY years ago.
The longer we live, the more information we accumulate, but there was a time when every one of us learned a word or phrase for the first time. I remember when I learned what the word “prostitute” meant, back when I was a kid. I swear there were thousands of prostitution arrests reported on the news channels over the next few weeks. Once that word was on my radar, I heard it everywhere.
Recent surveys show that people are reading fewer books these days, which means they are being exposed to fewer new words. I would like people to continue to enjoy Christie’s books and not be frustrated by unfamiliar words, so here are the reasons I’m “obvious.”
English is not the first language of all Christie readers
One of my favorite memories from last year’s International Agatha Christie Festival was meeting a young Italian woman who brought her copy of Agatha Annotated to the festival and took the trouble of introducing herself to me. English was not her first language, although her command was quite impressive, and she wanted me to know how much the glossary was helping her read Christie’s novels.
Yes, she could have read the stories in Italian. Agatha Christie’s books have been translated into over one hundred different languages, which is wonderful, but we all know the phrase “something lost in translation,” right? Also at last year’s Festival was Ragnar Jónasson, a thriller author from Iceland. Before writing his own novels, Jónasson translated many of Christie’s into Icelandic, starting at age seventeen. In an interview from The Guardian he says:
One memorable challenge came when I was translating Lord Edgware Dies, which took me 10 years because of one almost impossible hurdle: a particular two-word clue, which to me felt inextricably bound to the English language. The words used in English sounded different in Icelandic, dissolving the clue entirely.
Just imagine how tricky it must be to translate words, phrases, idioms, current events, and other aspects of 1920s England into another language and culture. Or for another language and culture to make sense of odd English phrases.
Not Everyone is an Anglophile
Some people are Sherlock Holmes fans or they read a lot of Regency romances. Others like to visit British museums and debate whether the jam or the clotted cream goes on a scone first. These people have absorbed a lot about English geography, history, and jargon, but not everyone is that well tutored.
More people have watched television shows like Downton Abbey and Poirot. They may be quite familiar with period details because they have seen them, and yet they might not know what they’re called or how they work. For instance, I did a lot of research on doorbells for the glossary. Now when I watch a costume drama, I can’t stop myself from commenting every time someone rings a doorbell. There are so many different kinds that work in different ways!
The etymology is fascinating
Centuries of popular culture have contributed common phrases that we still use, but whose original meanings are mostly forgotten. Also, our “English” words actually draw from many different languages, revealing how interaction with other countries during certain times influenced our vocabulary. It’s also a reminder that words develop over time, even now. Tracking how a word changes is like a mini history lesson.
There’s a fun little story that goes with a term
I’m working on a glossary of the 1930s novels right now and just finished Murder on the Orient Express. When questioned by Poirot, Colonel Arbuthnot mentions that he stopped in Ur on his way to Baghdad. A brief geographical definition of Ur is enough for the purposes of the story. It’s also interesting to note that Ur is associated with the biblical Abraham. But there's more...
When Christie was writing Orient Express, travelers visited Ur because a major archeological dig was being conducted there, yielding some very impressive finds. Even more interesting, in my opinion, is that the dig was directed by Leonard Woolley, assisted by junior field archaeologist Max Mallowan. Christie visited Ur in 1928 and met Max there, the beginning of their long relationship.
Colonel Arbuthnot couldn’t care less about Agatha and Max’s romance and it makes no difference to the story. But isn’t it fun to wonder if Christie included this little detail as a private joke between husband and wife about their "meet cute?"
I admit that the “everybody knows!” reviews bothered me at first, but making people feel embarrassed because they don’t know a word bothers me more. It’s a tricky balance sometimes, and all I can promise is that I do my best! Obviously.
Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko