Each week here at the Australian Writers’ Centre, we dissect and discuss, contort and retort, ask and gasp at the English language and all its rules, regulations and ridiculousness. It’s a celebration of language, masquerading as a passive-aggressive whinge about words and weirdness. This week, spread the word…
Q: Hi AWC, what’s the story with marmalade?
A: Is this a reference to the breakfast-spread loving bear Paddington, who travelled from “Darkest Peru” to London? First appearing in print in 1958 in the book A Bear Called Paddington by Michael Bond?
Q: Well no, not really. But that’s good to know. I assume he got his name from the train station?
A: He did indeed. In the story, the Brown family find him at London’s Paddington Station, naming him “Paddington Brown”.
Q: Makes sense.
A: Here’s a fun fact that you may NOT know however. The author originally wanted Paddington to be from “Darkest Africa”, but his literary agent said he should probably change that detail as there are no bears in Africa.
Q: Good call. But I actually wanted more broad information about the NAME “marmalade” – it’s rather unusual.
A: Where do YOU think it comes from?
Q: Hmmm. “Mama laid the toast on the breakfast table?”
A: Nope.
Q: Something about oranges and lemons?
A: Well no. Macquarie Dictionary simply defines marmalade as “a jelly-like conserve with fruit (usually citrus) suspended in small pieces”. And while it can be made from citrus – including bitter and sweet oranges, lemons, grapefruits, limes, bergamots – you can also find it containing things like pears, plums and quince.
Q: Quince? That’s a fruit you don’t hear about much these days. Didn’t “The Owl and the Pussycat” eat that when they got married?
A: Yes they did! According to the 1871 nonsense poem by Edward Lear, they “dined on mince, and slices of quince, which they ate with a runcible spoon”.
Q: Wait. What exactly IS a runcible spoon?
A: In true nonsense poem style, Lear actually made up the word “runcible”. However, curiously by the 1920s, it had come to mean a spoon that also has three prongs, so that it can also be used as a fork.
Q: But isn’t that a “spork”?
A: Well yeah, and that word dates from even earlier – 1909 – so go figure. It’s probably simply a case of people wanting to assign meaning to the popular poem.
Q: And where does the name “spork” come from?
A: Are you serious?
Q: No. Hahahaa.
A: We seem to have veered wildly off topic, so shall we return to “quince”?
Q: Sure. But I can’t help thinking how freaky the owl and the pussycat’s kids must’ve looked.
A: Well, try to pay attention because the quince plays a BIG part in why we have the name “marmalade” today.
Q: Oh really?
A: Really. The word – and the spread – came to English in the 1530s, originally from the Portuguese “marmelada”. You see, “quince” in Portuguese is ‘marmelo’, so this “marmelada” was a “quince jelly”.
Q: Wow, so the humble quince started it all.
A: Yep. According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, it would take around a century before the name expanded to define “any preserve or confection of pulpy consistency made from citrus fruit”. The definition has stayed the same ever since.
Q: So it CAN still contain quince?
A: Yes, but ironically, that is usually called “quince jam” today rather than “marmalade” to avoid confusion. Even though it was the original.
Q: Now, my Scottish friend tried telling me that the word “marmalade” had a very different origin story.
A: Ahh yes, there is what’s known as another “folk etymology” for where the name comes from.
Q: A “folk etymology” – as in a nice way of saying ‘fake origin story’?
A: Essentially yes! During the mid-1500s, Mary, Queen of Scots was doing a lot of back-and-forth travel between Scotland and France. So she often ate marmalade to help with her seasickness.
Q: And how is this related to the name?
A: Well, when she was feeling unwell, her French maids would request the fruity jelly by proclaiming “Mary is ill” – or “Marie est malade” in French.
Q: Oooooh, okay. But apparently that’s not true?
A: Not at all. The linguistic lineage is clear on this one as we have already discussed. So this leaves Mary with a dodgy claim to the etymological throne.
Q: She’d be rather used to dodgy claims to the throne, right?
A: Absolutely.
Q: That said, I’d have loved for her to marry the Earl of Sandwich. I’m sure that would have made Paddington Bear very happy.
A: Haha. Indeed it would have!
Q: So, to recap, Paddington Bear’s favourite food has nothing to do with a Scottish Queen or the French word “malade” for sickness. And it instead came from the Portuguese word for “quince jelly”.
A: That’s right!
Q: Good talk. I’ll be sure to ‘spread’ the word!
A: Hilarious.
Q: Anyway, I must be going. My beautiful pea-green boat awaits!
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