2020-10-01
There are a quite a few people like me, grandchildren of the Polish diaspora in Australia. Two generations on, we're as Australian as everybody else but a serial source of amusement is the surnames we bring along with us. I used to work with a Glowacki, who was reliably called "Glow-wacky" because everybody found this far more fun to say than his rather ordinary first name. He cheerfully went along with it of course—likewise my classmate Ducowski took no offence at being called a "cow". (For those playing along at home, it's approximately "glohVUTTski" and "dooTSOFFski".)
My own name is Karpiniec, a rare spelling even for slavic countries. When they confront it for the first time, Australians will typically plough confidently to the midpoint and then abort sheepishly, since there is no convenient English convention for pronouncing a "niec". Most will back up and have two or three attempts before settling on "nyek". A few rebels will add an imaginary "e" and say "niece", then pretend not to notice they just said "car-penis". "Close enough," I'll reassure them in any case. (FWIW it should sound like "nyets".)
Yet for all my smug knowledge of Polish consonants, I carry the faint shame of being unable to pronounce my own name accurately. The "r", you see, is supposed to be rolled. When you speak Australian English this is something that your tongue is simply not required to do, so many never bother to work it out. Afflicted badly with the Great Australian Mutter, my tongue is especially lazy and it's been a very long journey. As a kid I tried to simulate it with a throaty growl but it's nowhere near the same. I knew I had to lick my palate in just the right way, but damned if I knew how.
I became more hopeful a few years ago when I made a project of trying to roll Rs while driving alone in my car. I still have no idea why but I decided that a loud high-pitched "RRRRITA!" was the most promising test sound. If you can imagine a deep-voiced Aussie imitating Super Mario, you'll understand exactly how ridiculous this was. In exchange for a complete loss of dignity I received my first taste of success. There was some real tongue flutter going on! However it turns out it's quite hard to go from screaming "RITA", a vigorous action involving lots of airflow and alarming facial expressions, into gently caressing your tongue across a Polish family name. I gave up and forgot about it for quite a while.
Then recently I was learning the words to a song in Russian, Katyusha, and this is another language with the accursed rolled Rs. It just doesn't come out right if you substitute hard English Rs. While stubbornly practising in the shower, as one does, I finally cracked it—both as a leading consonant, and after a vowel.
пРо того, котоРого любила…
(pRo tavo, katoRova lubila…)
So as of today I am in the exciting position of being able to sing my surname to the theme of a Soviet tune, but not say it normally. Give me another five years and I might just get there!
P.S. For some reason this potato video of people singing Katyusha on a plane is my favourite recording.
[YouTube] Singing on the flight from Moscow to Berlin, Katyusha