Wikipedia:Reference desk/Archives/Language/2013 October 27

= October 27 =

All hail?
I get the idiomatic meaning of the salute and praise All hail!, but I don't understand it literally and semantically. Who/what is "all"? What exactly is "hail"? Is this a statement "All folks cheer you (as you deserve it, you great one)!"? Or is "hail" used as a noun here and it means "May a call, praising you in entirety, be dedicated to you?" Or something else? --KnightMove (talk) 17:52, 27 October 2013 (UTC)


 * I would take it as an imperative: all (of you) give acknowledgment. --ColinFine (talk) 19:37, 27 October 2013 (UTC)


 * Being third person, it may been an optative, but you have the sense right, Colin. μηδείς (talk) 20:00, 27 October 2013 (UTC)


 * Why is it third person? Second person seems a simpler analysis to me. --ColinFine (talk) 10:56, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * All is historically used as a noun and a pronoun. "All of you" is a derived prepositional phrase.  "Let all hail..." would be a third person construction.  That "all of you" seems simpler is a synchronic, not a diachronic analysis. μηδείς (talk) 19:21, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * I'm afraid to understand it even less than before. I thought it's a compliment to the designated person, not a demand... is it? --KnightMove (talk) 14:56, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * It is a compliment, unless used sarcastically. For example, saying "Heil Hitler !", with the accompanying Nazi salute, is the German version of "hail", but is meant as a withering condemnation of the person, who is accused of acting like Hitler. StuRat (talk) 15:10, 28 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Actually, the mutual translation between German Heil and hail is my main reason to ask, as Heil does literally not mean hail, but hale (in the archaic use as a noun). I try to understand whether this is really a matching translation. --KnightMove (talk) 17:34, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * It's just an older version of "good health", but came to be used as a respectful salutation (rather more respectful than the modern "Hi"). The sarcastic usage is comparatively recent.     D b f i r s   15:46, 28 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Uhm... so hail is used as a noun here? Or as an adjective?! --KnightMove (talk) 17:34, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * It's used as the verb, originally to wish good health, nowadays simply an old-fashioned word for to greet. μηδείς (talk) 19:24, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * Yes, originally a noun, then it became a verb in the early 1500s. Tyndale's Bible has "Iesus met them sayinge: All hayle!" for Matthew 28:9 (updated from "Heil ȝe!" in Wycliffe's Bible).  The King James Bible retained "all hail", and the New English Translation has "Jesus met them, saying, 'Greetings!'".  The original Greek seems to have been "Ξαίρετε" ("Rejoice"), but the original Aramaic (if it was ever said) would have been ""Peace be unto you!", similar to As-salamu alaykum.  I haven't found a modern translation of the bible where Jesus says "Hi". "  D b f i r s  '' 19:56, 28 October 2013 (UTC)

Not quite a comma splice
Occasionally I come across sentences that use only a comma to connect two predicates to the same verb. I've usually seen this in narrative fiction, as in "He wiped his boots on the mat, opened the door." It's not exactly a comma splice because the second predicate is not a complete sentence. Is there a name for it? When used judiciously this non-standard construction is OK, but I've read one or two books in which it was employed so often to become an annoying distraction. I wonder whether it's common enough to have been named and studied. Thanks. --Amble (talk) 22:42, 27 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Perhaps I don't read enough books, but I've never seen this. It would annoy me because I would assume that the last part of the sentence had been lost ... "He wiped his boots on the mat, opened the door, and went in."  I'd be interested to know if it's common enough to have acquired a name (other than "error") .    D b f i r s   23:10, 27 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Replacing "and" with a comma ("He wiped his boots on the mat [and] opened the door") is a distinguishing feature of (American) headlinese, or asyndeton in more exalted contexts. Tevildo (talk) 23:23, 27 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Yes, perhaps it is a form of asyndeton -- or zeugma? I hadn't noticed the connection with headlines before, perhaps because headlines use this construction so often that it's no longer jarring to me.  --Amble (talk) 23:34, 27 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Oh, yes, thanks for the link. It's been common in rhetoric for at least 2300 years so I should have recognised it!  I'll look out for it now in narrative, though I would expect to see it only in a very terse prose style, and, like Amble, I would find it very annoying if over-used.    D b f i r s   23:44, 27 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Dbfirst: I first noticed it in The Stainless Steel Rat Sings the Blues. Although it fits the conversational flow of the storytelling, this particular device came up enough to get a bit distracting.  (I'm sure that's the only reason I noticed it at all.)   Within a selected few pages:
 * "He smiled around at the gathering, lifted his great gut so he could hook his thumbs into his belt."
 * "I jumped to the ground, kicked some branches aside, saw the gaping mouth of the tunnel."
 * "He turned and issued instructions, kicked one of his new slaves when she wandered close."
 * "I jumped back to avoid the slash, stumbled over a man's legs, fell on top of him."
 * I remembered it again after seeing a couple of examples in The Last Policeman. Both novels are written as informal first-person narrative, so these are not errors but deliberate choices of style.  (As always, these choices may or may not be effective for the author's purposes!) --Amble (talk) 23:57, 27 October 2013 (UTC)


 * One more thought: this device works reasonably well in The Last Policeman, because it's based on the journal of the protagonist, a detective. People do write like that in journals or when describing events in an informal letter.  The Stainless Steel Rat is a brash, vain space adventurer recounting his exploits to his admirers.  I don't think people talk like this when telling a story.  --Amble (talk) 01:21, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * See Comma splice for some examples. Duoduoduo (talk) 20:26, 29 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Yes, except that the phenomenon I'm describing is not a comma splice. It has two predicates with a single subject, joined with a comma.  In a comma splice, the comma joins two complete sentences.  --Amble (talk)
 * If I saw this in a headline, I wouldn't bat an eyelid. But in prose, I'd be expecting more words to complete the sentence: "He wiped his boots on the mat, opened the door, ".  --   Jack of Oz   [pleasantries]  17:51, 30 October 2013 (UTC)
 * I also wouldn't bat an eyelid if it were in a journal or an informal letter describing events. "Dear diary (or Dear Mom), today was the first day of camp.  I paddled a canoe, only fell in one time." --Amble (talk) 19:19, 30 October 2013 (UTC)

The Queen is dead; long live the Queen!
What exactly is meant by the saying "The Queen is dead; long live the Queen!"? Does it mean: "the former queen is now deceased; long live the new queen, who will succeed her in ascending the throne!"? Any info on the origins of this saying? Thanks. Joseph A. Spadaro (talk) 23:33, 27 October 2013 (UTC)


 * See the article "The king is dead, long live the king!". --Theurgist (talk) 23:38, 27 October 2013 (UTC)
 * Executive summary: yes, it does. Card Zero  (talk) 23:52, 27 October 2013 (UTC)


 * It should be noted that the formulation involving 2 queens has never been used, and may never be.  When  when the current Queen dies, it will be "The Queen is dead. Long live the King".  There have never been 2 Queens Regnant in succession in England or Great Britain or the United Kingdom (assuming we exclude the case of Lady Jane Grey being succeeded by Mary I; Jane is still not fully accepted as a legitimate monarch - note: she's not generally referred to as "Queen Jane"; in any case, she was deposed and executed and I sorta doubt they would have been saying this expression at her death).   The current line of succession has 3 males (Charles, William and George).  There's no telling what may happen in the future, but on present indications it would be no earlier than George's daughter being succeeded by his granddaughter, which might happen in around 125 years time, if it happens at all.  --   Jack of Oz   [pleasantries]  00:42, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * But Elizabeth I followed Mary I so there has been Queen Regnant in a row. — Preceding unsigned comment added by Dja1979 (talk • contribs) 02:21, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * How embarrassment. Thanks.  --   Jack of Oz   [pleasantries]
 * Also, the phrase need not be used only of British monarchs. The Netherlands had three queens regnant in a row, though they all abdicated before dying so the phrase wouldn't have been appropriate, unless to mean "The former queen is dead, long live the current queen who's actually been queen for a while now already." Aɴɢʀ (talk) 18:13, 30 October 2013 (UTC)


 * Just a small (but significant) nitpick - " long live the new queen, who will succeed her in ascending the throne!" should actually be " long live the new queen, who has succeeded her in ascending the throne!". The new queen becomes queen at the moment of the old queen's death - the coronation ritual merely serves to confirm what has already happened. Roger (Dodger67) (talk) 07:54, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * True! Good point.   Joseph A. Spadaro (talk) 16:22, 28 October 2013 (UTC)


 * The deliberations of the Accession Council are also of a ceremonial nature; the issue has already been decided. Alansplodge (talk) 17:46, 30 October 2013 (UTC)

I think it also has a subtext of "no one is indispensible". In Italian one says morto un papa, se ne fa un altro ("a pope dead, another is made"). --Trovatore (talk) 02:18, 1 November 2013 (UTC)
 * The difference there is that there's a gap of usually a month or so between the death of the pope and the election of his successor. Not so in the British monarchy.  There is never even a micro-second when there is not a monarch.  When George VI died in his sleep, Elizabeth became queen instantly, instantaneously.  Nobody knew this transition had occurred until they brought George's breakfast in and discovered he was cold.  By then, Elizabeth had been queen for some hours.  All the pageant, pomp and ceremony of the Coronation etc was just ritualistic acknowledgement of that which had already occurred via operation of the law of succession.  That is the real point of "The King is dead. Long live the king!", at least insofar as it applies in the British system.  --   Jack of Oz   [pleasantries]  19:53, 1 November 2013 (UTC)
 * Ah, but during the Cromwellian interregnum, there was no monarch, notwithstanding the later protestations of the royalists. According to their law, there was &mdash; but their law did not obtain; it had been abolished. --Trovatore (talk) 21:28, 1 November 2013 (UTC)
 * Not sure of your "but" there. What I said applies when there is a monarchy.  You referred to the period when there was no monarchy, so of course it didn't apply then.  --   Jack of Oz   [pleasantries]  23:26, 1 November 2013 (UTC)


 * A little off-topic, but something I've wondered about: under the rules of the British monarchy, what happens if a king dies while his wife is pregnant with their first child? Since the child isn't born yet, presumably it doesn't become monarch instantly, but instead the crown passes to whoever's next in line (e.g. a younger brother). But then once the baby's born, where does it go in the line of succession? Ahead of the new king's own children? Or what if a queen regnant dies while pregnant with her first child and the doctors are able to save the baby? There would probably a few minutes at least between the death of the queen and the birth of the child; is that enough for the crown to pass to someone else? Is there even a law already in effect for such a circumstance? Or would parliament have to convene and quickly decide what to do? Aɴɢʀ (talk) 13:30, 2 November 2013 (UTC)