Bad over Will’s mother’s

Time has really been flying apparently, because I’m already two weeks late posting this one. This is a short scene, but it packs the biggest punch in Suffolkisms. In the absence of having any genuine authentic Suffolk people around to act as dialect coaches, I’ve had to perform my best reconstruction with the aid of whatever sources I can find online (mostly oral history titan George Ewart Evans and one-time Ralph-Fiennes dialect coach Charlie Haylock). So if any genuine Suffolk people happen to find this, then I sincerely apologise.

The Suffolk dialect is particularly rich in idiomatic expressions. I have a folder on my desktop that’s crammed with delightful Suffolkisms that I have no use for, such as elm broth (to be struck with a stick), church-hole (a grave), and this delightful poem about “Suffolk bang,” an infamously inedible local cheese:

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Those that made me were uncivil,
For they made me harder than the devil.
Knives won’t cut me; fire won’t sweat me;
Dogs bark at me, but can’t eat me.

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Aug 15

I took a little longer over it than I intended (of course!), but here is the fifth part of The Page of Cups. This is the last portion of the first half of the story, so BRAND! NEW! MATERIAL!!!!! will be coming next time.