‘It is impossible for a Brummie to open his mouth without making some other-accented Englishman hate or despise him.’ I am misquoting George Bernard Shaw, of course – but maybe the great man had the much-maligned Birmingham accent in mind when he made his famous pronouncement.
In a recent study more than 2,000 people were asked to listen and react to 15 British accents. When they were asked which they would consider the most trustworthy, Birmingham ranked bottom. Yorkshire came out on top, with 60 per cent considering it trustworthy, while RP (Received Pronunciation) came in second at 57 per cent. The Edinburgh Scottish accent was third, with Welsh and Geordie rounding off the top five.
After taking a quick straw poll, I am sad to report that all my friends seemed united in their disdain for the second city’s downbeat drawl. ‘Brummies just sound a bit thick,’ announced one. ‘I just can’t take the accent seriously,’ giggled another. ‘Why do they always sound so depressed?’ asked a third. Admittedly, all three complainants are southerners who have probably never been north of Hyde Park, but maybe that’s the problem.
Unlike ubiquitous Scottish, Irish and RP, the Birmingham accent remains largely absent from the cultural scene, meaning it has become associated with backwater provinciality. When did you last hear a Brummie reading the Ten O’Clock News, for instance, or discussing fiscal policy with the perfectly received pronunciations of Today‘s Justin Webb?
I’ve always had a soft spot for that bleak, downward inflected cynicism shot through with a wonderfully dry sense of humour
I can count the number of Brummies in the public eye on one hand. Let’s see, there’s Lenny Henry, of course, and, erm… Benny from Crossroads. Oh yes, shadow minister for domestic violence and safeguarding Jess Phillips is a proud West Midlander, and I seem to remember Clare Short having something approximating a Birmingham twang. When you consider that Benny hasn’t been on our screens for more than 30 years, that’s an outrageous lack of representation – made doubly scandalous in light of the fact that the population of the West Midlands runs to nearly three million.
Then again, you may have noticed a dearth of other English accents on your TV, too. And by accents I don’t mean generic glottal-stopped Estuary, fake Oasis-style Mancunian or that white middle-class approximation of patois, all of which are over-represented in the media. Indeed the BBC seem determined to ignore ‘ordinary’ provincial accents spoken by ‘ordinary’ people, in order to appeal to a minority of urban hipsters who have no interest in what the corporation has to offer.
I grew up in the East Midlands, but apart from Leicester-born Gary Lineker I can’t think of anyone on TV who speaks with that very particular accent. In dramas there appears to be only one kind of ‘northern’ accent, a generic ‘ee-bah-gum’ Yorkshire-lite that pays little regard to actual setting. Casting directors and voice coaches seem to forget that within every county there are often dozens of unique variations on the standard intonation, all of which stem from a rich and varied heritage.
And there are long-standing rivalries between counties, too. Derbyshire folk for instance tend to look down on their northern neighbours (although Yorkshire folk probably have something to say about that). So imagine how infuriating it must be to hear some posh Rada graduate shamelessly mangle your beloved home tongue. Similarly, any character hailing from East Anglia or the West Country must feign that wearisome ‘ooo-arrr’ burr so beloved of Archers actors keen to show off their limited range.
The whole thing smacks of laziness and a lack of respect for a cultural inheritance already in peril from the influence of globalisation. It’s remarkable to think that on such a small island accents can vary dramatically from village to village, even now. In a world where diversity and inclusion trumps everything, the DEI tsars seem remarkably lax when it comes to representing our native tongues. Such a rich heritage surely deserves respect.
Whenever I’m back in Derbyshire, I can always tell a person from the rugged Peak District end of the county from the more softly accented southern end and will mourn the loss of those subtle variations when they eventually disappear.
As for the Birmingham accent, I’ve always had a soft spot for that bleak, downward inflected cynicism shot through with a wonderfully dry sense of humour. The grim steelworks that once defined the area may be long gone, but the heavy grit and weary grind of the West Midlands’ industrial past can still be heard in the likes of Ozzy Osbourne’s mid-Atlantic brogue. Talking of which, how did I manage to forget one of Birmingham’s greatest exports, a man you could certainly place your trust in; just ask Sharon.
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