One can actually track the path of a word across continents.
Where did it start?, ask our friends the word-trackers, or Etymologists. What was the complex game of Chinese whispers that effected its change over vast distances?
The whole absorbing business is beautifully illustrated by the Dutch journalist and historian Hendrik Willem Van Loon. He wrote children’s history books of endearing accessibility: and today’s picture is an illustration from one of them, from his 1921 work The Story of Mankind.
He sketches a map of Europe, and over Mother Russia he draws the trunk of a mighty oak. For here the first traces of the word for mother, he says, emerged from Sanscrit.
And then, with ingenious simplicity, he shows the main ways that the Russian word for mother – mat – developed, by drawing the tree’s branches.
Oh, how I would love to see a similar tree which traced one of my favourite Yiddish words.
Schmalz.
I wish I had ten lives: if I had, I would spend one studying this most infatuating of languages: one that has been called a fusion. Yiddish has seamlessly woven threads from Hebrew, from Aramaic, from Slavic and even romantic languages to make a vivid cloth of such expressive colour it continually delights the ear.
Schmalz is rendered fat: but the infectious humour of the Yiddish culture changed its meaning.
In the 1930’s, both in America and Germany, schmalz expressed the viscous quality- the queasy ease of movement – of false emotion. Sentimentality at its most theatrical and least useful.
Schmalz has committed many crimes, over the years.
Like this one: Meet Me In St Louis is an iconic Christmas film, set against the backdrop of the 1904 World’s Fair, Missouri.
But that song of Judy Garland, sung as Esther: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas? It had a very different purpose to that of other Christmas songs.
For it was written at the heart of a terrible war.
Listen to it: It refuses to sweeten and romanticise this season. It acknowledges a struggle in the hearts of men, and makes a conscious decision to celebrate today, for tomorrow who knows what may happen.
It was a common wartime theme: our men were going off to face great peril and may never return. Huge numbers of Americans were being sent to the Pacific or to the offensive in Europe. Life was short.
Against this backdrop, Garland sings a song to empathise with those weary of war. Meet Me In St Louis is full of wonderful exuberance to lift the spirit.
But this song, which would help the peoples of the Western reaches face a wartime Christmas, sang Christmas how it really was.
Had not the film’s creators intervened, it would have been very hard-edged indeed.
The song’s composer, Hugh Martin, had very different lyrics planned- addressed directly to the soldiers who were fighting at the fronts:
Have yourself a merry little Christmas, it may be your last,
Next year we may all be living in the past….
And the refrain continued:
No good times like the olden days, happy golden days of yore,
Faithful friends who were dear to us, will be near to us no more.
You can understand why director Vincente Minelli insisted on a word change. When one is in ever-present danger the last thing one needs is an overdose of reality.
The lyrics were re-written to soften its harsh corners, but empathise with its listeners. And it paid off. The troops loved it: many were moved to tears by Garland’s performance.
The war ended: the danger passed. We came to terms with our losses. And people started to find the frank honesty of this particular message a little too real.
So they began, by stealth, to introduce schmalz.
Frank Sinatra did not like any reference to ‘muddling through somehow.’ It was glossed with “hang a shining star upon the highest bough.”
That’s entertainment, buddy.
The song’s composer tweaked away, making this a song to celebrate the idealised Christmas, just like all the other Christmas songs. And in 2001, at the age of 86, he re-wrote the lyrics completely with colleague John Fricke so the first line began “Have yourself a blessed little Christmas…”
I know the lyrics are feel-good.
But like a word which changes its meaning imperceptibly, as it is passed from ear to ear, this song was born of the honesty of a country in dire need. And it has been changed to match its glittering- and more vacuous -colleagues on the Christmas song list.
Still, the original remains in that wonderful film from 1944.
And for those who have faced a hard Christmas, who will muddle through somehow this year, in the hope that there will be better years: that first version by Judy Garland is a gem.
A frank star on a glittering ocean of schmalz.
Kate Shrewsday 
I really adore that song, and the times my Mum and I have watched that film together! It’s a real favourite. That said, I had no idea about the history of the song, but I found it so very interesting. I’m glad that the lyrics were changed from the originals. It seems that some of the most poignant Christmas songs, which later became favourites, were conceived in wartime, just like “White Christmas”. I suppose that for a songwriter there is nothing like troublesome times to throw longed for peace and contentment into sharp relief. Though despite that being how “White Christmas” came across, judging by the much ignored verse (mentioning orange and palm trees in Beverly Hills), I’m guessing Irving Berlin’s song was more about wishing to be in a more wintry environment for Christmas! Nevertheless, it does sum up that feeling of longing and wishing very well.Thank you very much for such an interesting post. 🙂
Heather, you are so right: hardship brings out the best in songwriters. I couldn’t cite the research off the top of my head, but much ahs been done to prove that in recessions we write some of our best music.
Don’t know what’s happened this recession, though: our music here in the UK is dire.
It’s like Bob Dylan…many people say some of his best work could be found on his “Blood On The Tracks” album, which was made around the time he was splitting up with his wife, Sara. Of course, it’s all opinion, but when the critics’ opinions collide, it often seems to be about works which have been produced by their creators during their difficult times. I can’t say that I actually take much notice of music in the UK at the moment. It feels like the parachute of X factor/Britain’s (not!) Got Talent and all the related kerfuffle has landed on my head and stifled any interest, so I find myself looking elsewhere and positively revelling in my old favourites with much delight! 😀
I had a look in one of my Christmas songbooks at “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” and found a verse I hadn’t remembered at all:
“When the steeple bells sound their A,
They don’t play it in tune,
But the welkin will ring one day
And that day will be soon.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sing that.
Wow – that’s really interesting, Heather, thank you! Now I’m left wondering if I can google an entire verse 😀
A little schmalz is good for the soul. But only a little.
I have to say, I hate the Sinatra version; it’s a dirge.
It is. A little schmatlz- or its partner, kitsch – can go a long way. But nose-to tail schmalz must be so hard for someone who is having a hard time of it this Christmas.
I had never given much thought to how this song had morphed over time, I like the James Taylor version where he keeps the original “muddle through somehow” lyrics. A Some schmaltz is fine, but, in small doses.
Perfectly put, Lou. A little schmalz goes a long long way.
I think this post could set off a wave of research, Kate. I had never considered that songs changed over time — except for the personalized renditions of various artists (and in some cases the word artist must be loosely applied). Now I’ll wonder when I hear differences whether they are simply artistic license or historic patchwork.
And schmaltz (schmaltzy), to me, always conjured phrases like “sticky” – “sickeningly sweet” – “gooey” and the like. I had no clue it actually referenced fat – some pretty gooey stuff in its own right. 🙂
I’m sure there must be existing research about folk songs, Karen. It would be really interesting to trace one which started , say, in the 17th century up until today to see how it changed. I suppose it’s like looking at an old building and working out who built which wing!
Spot on, Kate. I look around and see so much commodity, including people. It is not enough to do good things, it must be advertised. It is not enough to be able to leverage technology to be able to communicate with people all over the world, one must “network” and leverage people for their own ends. Sugar coating it in savvy fashion only fools those who want to be fooled. I hope for a time when we more value those who respectfully tell us what we don’t want to hear, and thus cause us to think; than those who will tell us whatever they think we want to hear primarily for the sake of personal attention and validation. Beyond oneself, one creates overall growth, the other stagnates it. Just ask Mata…
And before I sound overly Grinch-y, Happy Holidays to you and yours, Kate! 🙂
And to you and yours, Brett 😀 What a fabulous comment. As others today have said, a little schmalz is not a bad thing in itself: but when it is used to anaesthatise the masses: to stop us thinking and wondering and feeling as all human beings should: then it oversteps the mark.
Kate ~ in light of your love of Yiddish, you might be interested in Cecelia’s recent posts on Chanukah and its meanings.
Her last post is on etymology of the word.
http://ceceliafutch.wordpress.com/2011/12/26/we-kindle-the-seventh-light-of-chanukah/
My favorite covers the dreidel:
http://ceceliafutch.wordpress.com/2011/12/24/day-four-of-the-miracle/
Nancy, what a treat, hank you so much for the recommendation. The dreidel was a fabulous post: think I might have to become a regular over at Cecelia’s.
Schmalz – used a lot here in Miami but spelled as schmaltz. Schmaltz is cheap junk like EVERYTHING made in China. Schmaltz is stuff not worth one’s slightest attention and is also used to refer to the Miami Dolphins football season – with so much talent another disappointment. Dolphins my sweet patuzzi. More like schalmtzy smelts.
ROFL Fantastic, Carl, I’m off to look up smelts now…
Wow. I never knew this little song had such a history. It will help me hear it differently the next time it plays.
It’s striking when you listen to it, knowing its back story, Andra.
PS: Thanks for posting the gun-in-a-handbag post once more. We had a wonderful time reading it.
i have to agree. so many christmas songs are sugary to the point of revulsion. i like the slightly harder ones.
I think what struck me is that this song admits that not all Christmases are perfect, Sidey: which makes those who are having a less than perfect Christmas feel a bit better.
One of my favourite Christmas songs, but I’m glad Minelli insisted on reworked lyrics… As for the latest rewrite (or sellout?), all I can think of to say is: Bah humbug! Why must everything be schmalzed up to match today’s plastic world? (Oh – did I just answer my own question? 😀 )
😀 You said it, Ruth.Why indeed?
I have often been inclined to take up cudgels with many of those who sneer at things they consider schmaltzy.(instinct told me there should be a ‘t’ in there, by the way, and the OED seems to agree with me) when to me they are idealised romanticism of a kind we could do with more of. They may set what seem impossibly high standards, but it is better to aim at such than to wallow in cynicism.
You make a good case with ‘Have yourself …’ though. The original unrecorded version was a bit too grim, but the sanitized version subsequent to Garland’s one simply lack something.
Far be it from me to challenge Oxford; but the Free English Dictionary offers two alternative spellings- schmalz and schmaltz…this is backed up by Wikipedia. Two such exalted sources 😀 A little extra etymology: it’s derived from smalz, the Middle High German for grease or fat; however shmalts is the Yiddish word for chicken fat.
The Americans use schmaltz, as Carl has evidenced so well today. To this day, the Germans are said to use schmalzig to mean maudlin and sentimental.
I love this stuff 😀
We Canadians are quite used to the dual spellings…the Brits bash us on one side and the ‘Mericans thump us on the other.
A Canadian dilemma is how to set one’s computer – British or USA. We need a Canadian setting that allows either and writes polite notes to either country who tell us we don’t know how to spell.
I had a Californian say, “You write okay, but your spelling is weird.” 😀
That is a dilemma indeed, Amy. I have no idea how one would live with two sets of standards, competing with each other. How fascinating it would be to do some word-mapping to find out how words ended up with such an uncompromising thin red line between them!
It is all fascinating stuff to trace words and spellings. Funny, my OED version stubbornly refused to offer alternatives.
As for American versus Canadian versus Australian spelling and punctuation! I recently ‘translated’ one of my novels into American. It was a mind-bending exercise. Interestingly, a lot of the ‘progressive’ spellings of the Americans are back to the Mayflower, and it is the Brits who have done the modernizing!
No more a “wise guy” than I . . . I referenced http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/schmaltz before adding my “t” and Kate just graciously ignored that I’d done it. 🙂
Everyone’s correct 😀 That’s the wonder of an evolving word. Time for a schmalz tree map I think.
A little Christmas schmalz can sometimes help numb the brain just a little bit–useful in times of stress. And after three or four weeks of it, you’re ready to put it away for another year. It’s a lovely song, though, and now that I know the history, I’ll hail Vincent Minelli. 🙂 Debra
Putting it away is cathartic, Debra: I confess to hating the packing away of Christmas. January and February are long, cold and relentless here. Maybe, this year, I’ll have January mulled wine, and February mince pies. A little schmalz goes a long way, as you say…
It’s one of those songs I cannot listen to, Kate – I hate schmaltz (because it affects me in spite of myself, which I hate even more!)
I know: doublethink. I’m the same. Hate being manipulated by corporations, even entertainment ones. I won’t watch some films for the same reasons.
And I’m a little teary-eyed now. It was a hard Christmas in a lot of ways, a far different one than I’d planned as the year progressed. And I may have relied a little on the schmalz to muddle through.
Long live the evolution of language and good film directors!
Glad you muddled through somehow, Cameron. We’re out the other side now. And those pesky words are scuttling away from us faster than we can write the varmints down.
Time to get the laptop out. Dunno ’bout you, but I’m going hunting.