FLICKING STATIONS on the car radio recently, I heard a piece of Christmas choral music that appeared to be titled “On Stephenses’ Day”. Which is something that would not raise an eyebrow if sung by carollers on Grafton Street. But these were the BBC Singers, as I later learned. So there had to be a mistake.
Surely, I thought, the habit of inserting an extra syllable in “Stephen’s Day”, for no good reason, was unique to Ireland? Not only that, it was a quintessential part of what we are, like Barry’s Tea and Tayto and saying no several times before accepting any offer of hospitality. Could it really be that the habit had now spread overseas and infected a BBC choir? Well, no, apparently. It turns out that “On Stephenses Day” (almost invariably written without an apostrophe) is the work of a 20th-century composer called Elizabeth Maconchy.
Who, though she was born in England and died there as a Dame of the Empire, was the daughter of an Irish lawyer. Indeed, she spent part of her childhood here and always maintained links. Thus her best-known work includes a setting of Louis MacNeice's poem, Prayer Before Birth, commissioned for the Cork Choral Festival.
She even married an Irishman, one William Le Fanu, of French Huguenot stock via Bray. He also enjoyed great success across the Irish Sea, where he became – I’m quoting from his obituary – “the foremost British medical librarian of his time”. But despite such fame, it’s said that the couple never lost touch with Ireland. And judging by the title of “On Stephenses Day” alone, I believe it.
IRRATIONAL AS IT IS,I'm rather fond of that redundant syllable: if only because it serves as an antidote to a vulgar, opposite tendency that seems to be gaining popularity. This stems from the belief that when a possessive apostrophe follows a name or word ending in S, it should not in turn be followed by another S.
Which, whatever the justification for it (and call me a fundamentalist, but in my opinion there is none), should have the logical effect of robbing certain names of an intrinsic syllable – eg “St James’ Hospital” or (heaven forfend) “Guinness’ Brewery” – even though in common speech, they would never be so deprived.
The problem is that even fundamentalists tend to make exceptions to the rule occasionally. It’s traditional practice, for example, that biblical names – especially Jesus and Moses – should not take an extra S after the apostrophe; although rather than use such a construction as “Moses’ laws”, many style guides suggest evasive action by turning the phrase into “laws of Moses” instead.
Maybe similar tactics explain the currency of certain quasi-religious phrases popular in Ireland, even among the unreligious. Outside church, for example, it would be rare to hear the expression “Jesus’ love”. But “the love of Jesus” is commonly used, even in secular contexts, eg: “Would you tidy your room, please, for the love of Jesus?” In general, however, Irish speech tends to sound the post-apostrophe S unapologetically, even where it’s not written. Thus the Dublin hospital is pronounced “St Jameses”, however it’s spelt. And a former hospital (now health board offices) just down the road from it is still called “Dr Steevenses”. Which sounds a bit like the day after Christmas, except that since the man who founded it was a Steevens-plural, the extra syllable is here entirely logical.
DESPITE MYstrong feelings on it, I know that the S-apostrophe-S issue is a deeply controversial one in grammarian circles. I've heard of whole families divided. And even the US Supreme Court split down the middle on the question a few years ago: although – admittedly – it wasn't the question they were supposed to be focusing on at the time.
It arose indirectly during what grammar police would regard as a much less important issue – the death penalty – when the court ruled 5-4 that a statute governing executions in Kansas was not unconstitutional. But not only did the state involved in the case (Kansas v Marsh)end in the letter S, so did the name of the judge (Clarence Thomas) who wrote the majority
verdict.
Throughout his ruling, it was later noted that Thomas, no doubt influenced by his own surname, referred repeatedly to “Kansas’ statute”. Whereas, writing the dissenting opinion, Justice David Souter referred to it throughout as “Kansas’s”.
(Incidentally, one of the other judges involved was John Paul Stevens, but this was not to be Stevenses' Day, because he was on the minority side too.) Worse still, grammatical analysis by the Law Timesjournal suggested that, as revealed in other rulings, the court was split 7-2 against the use of the post-apostrophe S, and that only Justice Souter was unshakeable on the issue.
The magazine found that the latter had held his nerve up to and including use of the possessive form of “Massachusetts’s” which he had included in a written judgment: “thereby,” as the journal added, “bravely opining that even a four-syllable proper noun ending in a double consonant before the final S is entitled to an additional S, regardless of the awkwardness of the resulting pronunciation”.
To which I say: Hear, hear. Let justice be done, though the heavens fall.