They’re the words you didn’t learn in English class. Honeyfuggle. Pinkwink. Schnickelfritz.
They might sound like gibberish, but you can find them all in the Dictionary of American Regional English, a comprehensive guide to America’s regional and folk speech.
The dictionary’s long-awaited fifth and final volume is set for release next month, 27 years after the first one was published. At last, the list of nearly 60,000 colloquialisms will be complete, from “aa” — a Hawaiian term for rough, cindery lava — to “zydeco” — a type of Louisiana roots music.
Apart from all the colorful vocabulary, you’ll also discover the history behind the quirky pronunciations and syntaxes that distinguish one English dialect from another.
You’ll learn that sentences with double modals, like “I might could go to the park,” have been produced in North Carolina for more than 150 years.
And how that distinctive Dixie drawl — where “my” is pronounced like “mah,” and “pen” like “pin” and “sit” like “see it” — is part of a much larger phenomenon known as the Southern Vowel Shift.
In documenting these features, the writers are giving some much-deserved legitimacy to regional dialect — a legitimacy that’s worth fighting for, especially in the case of Southern English.
Across the United States, people associate Southern accents with a lack of sophistication and education.
According to a 1999 study by dialectologist Dennis Preston, respondents from all over the country routinely rated Southern English the most incorrect variety of American English.