Primo’s obsession du jour is King Arthur tales. Unlike Greek myths, I don’t know anything about the Round Table stories. I am finding, though, that they are pretty freaking awesome. Racy stuff, these Arthur tales. Lots of extra-marital affairs. Honestly, it smacks of a romance novel, the Lancelot and Guinevere stuff. I love it.
Right now, we’re reading a book about the trials and tribulations of one of King Arthur’s nephew, a worthy and virtuous knight by the name of Sir Gawain.
I’d like you to take a stab at pronouncing that. Go ahead.
My guess, and I’ll stand behind it, since it’s as good as any, was ‘GAY-wan.” Say it fast and, yes, it basically sounds like GAY-one. Sir Gay One
I read this book Sir Gay One and The Green Knight to Primo for an hour or so, probably 20 pages worth, repeating Sir Gay One no less than 45 times.
Then David gets home, hears me reading, and says, “Its Ga-WAYNE. Ga-WAYNE.”
“Are you sure?” I replied, “Because I thought it was GAY-one.”
“No, it most definitely is not. So stop saying that.”
I believed him. And I did try to stop saying it. But you know how once you get a pronunciation stuck in your head, you can’t possibly replace it with the right pronunciation? The spot in your brain that decides how that word will be uttered is already taken and the incorrect pronunciation can not be deposed – it is too powerful. So every night now, I settle down and read some more of the book and every single time I’ll read, “The monster approached Sir Gay One –“ and David’ll yell from the other room: “Its Ga-WAYNE.”
A damn comedy routine.
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