The English language is a wondrous thing, is it not? It has an alphabet of only 26 letters but a soundscape almost twice as strong, with 44 different phonemes, or word sounds, represented by various letters and letter combinations. The sounds, in turn, fall into two categories: consonants and vowels. I could go on about the multifarious ways of spelling all these sounds, but I would digress. After all, this post is about the letter c and the curious and crazy things we can do with it if we flout the rules for just a moment.
Before we get into the fun, though, a recap on the many guises the main character comes in: the s sound , the k sound , the sh sound or the ch sound , depending on what letters surround it.
- the s sound : ice, cell, recipe
- the k sound : call, cat, picnic
- the sh sound : chef, champagne, rapacious
- the ch sound : cherry, arch, birch
And of course there are many words that contain more than one c sound: cycle, cancel, success. Talk about phonetic flexibility! If you’re thinking, “Yeah, well, the letter c could probably be replaced by all those letters,” think again. My goal here is to mess things up graphemically and illustrate how versatile this letter is and how very much we (I) would miss it if it ceased to be.
What’s in a letter? That which we call a “c” …
Would all the words containing this versatile letter really ring (or look) just as sweet if c were replaced by the letters representing its phonemes? In other words, would the text be just as attractive? I think not. My reflection about this started the first time I saw my name spelled with a k: Klaudia. Wrong, I thought.
Take a famous Shakespearian sonnet—for example, “Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day?”—and see just how jarring a text without c can be:
… And often is his gold complexion spelled with an initial k dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines spelled with a k,
By chance spelled with the letters t, s and h at the beginning, or nature’s changing spelled with the letters t, s and h at the beginning course spelled with a k, untrimmed…
Or a more modern poem, such as Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky”:
And hast thou slain the Jabberwock spelled with two k's at the end?
Come spelled with a k to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh spelled with a k! Callay spelled with a k!”
He chortled spelled with the letters t, s and h at the beginning in his joy.
Even an innocent nursery rhyme comes off as outlandish:
Jack spelled with two k's at the end and Jill went up the hill
To fetch spelled with the letters t, s and h at the end a pail of water;
Jack spelled with two k's at the end fell down and broke his crown spelled with a k
And Jill came spelled with a k tumbling after.
Charming? I think not. Removing the letter c from the alphabet, as Benjamin Franklin hoped to do in the late 18th century, would irretrievably impoverish the English language. My view as a language professional is the following:
Language isn’t supposed to confuse spelled with a k; it’s supposed to elucidate spelled with an s. Communication spelled with two k's in any form should be clear spelled with a k and free of confounding spelled with a k codes spelled with a k or ciphers spelled with an s. Unless you are a decoder spelled with a k, cryptanalyst spelled with a k or cryptographer spelled with a k, you shouldn’t have to unscramble spelled with a k text as if it were secret spelled with a k writing. Or unless, of course spelled with a k, you are creatively spelled with a k tweaking language by using special spelled with the letters s and h in the middle of the word devises such spelled with the letters t, s and h at the end as grapheme substitution or lowercase spelled with a k letters at the beginnings of lines—e. e. cummings spelled with a k, anyone?
Conclusion
Leave the letter c—and all its articulations—be.
Arising from gamma in the Greek alphabet, taking on varied signs and sounds in the Corinthian, Latin, Etruscan, French—and more!—alphabets, and assuming the voiced and unvoiced sounds we use today (along with myriad exceptions), the letter c has a rich and complex etymology, leaving us with multiple pronunciations. This history is reflective of the English language itself, which ingeniously borrows and adapts words from other languages and makes them its own.
So, although in this post I admittedly enjoyed cavorting with c, I wouldn’t change it for the world (or a k or an s or a c h tsh).
