STORY · GLOBAL
Writing - and toasting - the Jamaican language
Well supported
How Patois travelled from playground stigma to page, pulpit and microphone.
The arc of Jamaican Creole from a scorned 'dialect' to a written and performed language, carried by Miss Lou, the Cassidy spelling, the deejay's toast and the dub poet's line.
A language with no spelling
For generations the everyday speech of Jamaica - Jamaican Creole, or Patois - was dismissed as 'broken English', a thing to be corrected out of children rather than written down. Yet it was the language of the market, the yard, the dancehall and the church clap-and-response, dense with African-rooted grammar and its own proverbs and imagery.
Louise Bennett spent a career refusing that verdict. Performing and publishing in Patois - her 1966 collection Jamaica Labrish took its title from the word for chatter - she treated the language as fully capable of poetry, satire and news of the nation.
The tongue on the microphone
While the poets worked the page, the sound systems worked the mic. Toasting - the rhythmic talk-over pioneered by Count Machuki and turned into hit records by U-Roy - showed that Jamaican Creole could carry an entire performance art, one that would seed rap a generation later. From it came a whole lexicon of the dance, from 'big up' to the hail of the crowd.
First they said it could not be written. Then they built a spelling for it.
Naming it, spelling it
Scholars supplied the theory: Kamau Brathwaite's nation language reframed the vernacular as literature rather than dialect. Institutions supplied the standard: the Jamaican Language Unit at the UWI promotes the phonemic Cassidy/JLU orthography, the system used to render the Jamaican New Testament, Di Jamiekan Nyuu Testiment. What had no respectable spelling now had a grammar of its own on the page and on the riddim.
