All right, so we live in a country where placenames are a political minefield. Where the north can be in the South.Where one of the South's official names is "Ireland", something considered an insult by many in the North, writes Frank McNally
Where the use by certain northerners of the other official name, "Éire", is also considered an insult, and usually intended as such, although neither side may be completely sure why. That's all very complicated, yes.
But consider the plight of French and German people, who have to make similar calculations every time they talk to each other about anything. Is a Parisian male rushing the relationship by addressing his date as tu rather than the formal vous? Should a Berlin businesswoman use the familiar du rather than sie with a male colleague, or would that give him the wrong idea? These are issues that our continental cousins have to wrestle with daily, when they should be worrying about football or the problems facing their economies.
You may recall that earlier this year there was a landmark event in German political circles when the long-time colleague and rival of chancellor Angela Merkel finally invited her to drop the sie in addressing him. By then the most powerful person in Germany, Merkel still knew that under the country's social rules it was up to Edmund Stoiber - her senior by 13 years - to make the first move. A linguistics expert commenting on the development explained that women had an added reluctance to initiate usage of the familiar address "in case there are any mistaken erotic connotations".
In inviting her to du him, Mr Stoiber avoided any such confusion, apparently, and Germany sighed with relief. But that was a move whose time had come. The advice still when dealing with Germans is not to be hasty in assuming familiarity. Du unto others only after they du unto you, if then. A singer who attempted to du a policeman last year found himself in court charged with insulting an officer, and escaped a fine only by pleading that he addressed everyone in this manner.
In France, life is no less complicated. It's said that Jacques Chirac addresses even his wife with the formal vous, and would never use tu in conversation with a respected colleague. This goes back to the origins of the division, when Normans took to addressing royalty or the aristocracy in the second-person plural, reserving the singular from for commoners. Interestingly, Mr Chirac uses tu for his younger rival Nicolas Sarkozy, the man who would be president.
The use of vous has had its ups and downs over the centuries. During the French Revolution, it was banned in government circles, and socialists have been trying to stamp it out ever since. But just to confuse the issue, a modern socialist president, François Mitterrand, insisted upon it, whereas its enemies have multiplied to include the reform-minded neo-liberals of the right. Based on a survey of business leaders, politicians, and linguists, Le Figaro newspaper reported this week that the use of vous now marks someone as unable or unwilling to move with the times.
Life is simpler in English-speaking countries, although it wasn't always so. As recently as 1603, at the trial of Walter Raleigh, a prosecuting counsel snarled at the accused: "I thou thee, thou traitor!" This was calculated to offend, but the insult never caught on in English. In fact, instead of "thou" becoming the familiar or contemptuous usage, as on the continent, it went upmarket in these islands. Now it is reserved mainly for productions of Shakespeare or conversations with God. The only contemptuous use to which it is put in everyday speech put is when a speaker is decrying the moral pretensions of others. Then, "thou" is what the targets are always accused of being holier than.
When "thou" and "thy" dropped out of everyday English, "you" - once the second-person plural - took over as a form of address for single and plural entities alike. Dictionaries agreed that this was correct, but the public never did. Everywhere in the English-speaking world, people have rectified the perceived hole in the language by inventing their own forms for the second-person plural, from "youse" to "y'all".
Ireland is no exception, having devised several second-person plural forms, usually with matching possessive adjectives. In Dublin it's "yiz" and "yizzer" (eg: "yiz were always useless and so was yizzer father before yiz"). In the south and west, it's "ye" and "yeer" ("I hope ye go on and win it now, lads - it's yeer All-Ireland". In parts of the North, it's "youse" and "yousuns" ("Did youse hear the racket yousuns' dog was making all last night?") But such complex grammar is a small price to pay for not having to think first every time we address a friend or colleague, and for not risking offence or unwanted overtures even when we do. We should be grateful to live in a simple country where, once we avoid using the name of the State/Free State, or of the Province/failed political entity (especially if we live in Derry/Londonderry), we can all just relax and get along.