Word Weavers: Sylvia Wright

Sylvia Wright (c. 1916-1981) was a writer and humorist who coined the term “Mondegreen,” a noun used to describe the result of mishearing a word for another word or phrase. During her career she was an editor for “Harper’s Bazaar,” and published several works of her own.

For Further Reading:

• A Shark-Infested Rice Pudding, by Sylvia Wright (1969)
• The Death of Lady Mondegreen
• Sylvia Wright, a Writer And Harpers Ex-Editor
• Lady Mondegreen, Ann Warren, and Sylvia Wright

This month, we’re talking about Word Weavers — people who coined terms, popularized words, and even created entirely new languages. These activists, writers, artists, and scholars used language to shape ideas and give voice to experiences that once had no name. 

History classes can get a bad rap, and sometimes for good reason. When we were students, we couldn’t help wondering... where were all the ladies at? Why were so many incredible stories missing from the typical curriculum? Enter, Womanica. On this Wonder Media Network podcast we explore the lives of inspiring women in history you may not know about, but definitely should.

Every weekday, listeners explore the trials, tragedies, and triumphs of groundbreaking women throughout history who have dramatically shaped the world around us. In each 5 minute episode, we’ll dive into the story behind one woman listeners may or may not know–but definitely should. These diverse women from across space and time are grouped into easily accessible and engaging monthly themes like Educators, Villains, Indigenous Storytellers, Activists, and many more. Womanica is hosted by WMN co-founder and award-winning journalist Jenny Kaplan. The bite-sized episodes pack painstakingly researched content into fun, entertaining, and addictive daily adventures.

Womanica was created by Liz Kaplan and Jenny Kaplan, executive produced by Jenny Kaplan, and produced by Grace Lynch, Maddy Foley, Brittany Martinez, Edie Allard, Carmen Borca-Carrillo, Taylor Williamson, Sara Schleede, Paloma Moreno Jimenez, Luci Jones, Abbey Delk, Adrien Behn, Alyia Yates, Vanessa Handy, Melia Agudelo, and Joia Putnoi. Special thanks to Shira Atkins.

Follow Wonder Media Network:

• Website
• Instagram
• Twitter

 

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:08):
Hello from Wonder Media Network. I'm Jenny Kaplan, and this
is Wamanica. This month, we're talking about word weavers, people
who coined terms, popularized words, and even created entirely new languages.
These activists, writers, artists, and scholars used language to shape
ideas and give voice to experiences that once had no name. Today,

(00:33):
we're talking about a woman who articulated the indecipherable experience
of hearing something incorrectly and liking that misquote more than
the original. Remembered by many as a quippy humorist with
her finger on the pulse of modern life, she also
delighted in the mystery and melodrama of misinterpretation. Let's talk
about Sylvia Wright. Sylvia was born around nineteen sixteen. Not

(00:58):
much is known about her childhood, others the fact that
her father, a legal scholar, died in a car accident
and left behind a twenty three hundred page manuscript. As
a young adult, Sylvia attended Bridmore College, where she studied
the art of writing and publishing. Together, she and her
mother edited her father's tone down to a more manageable length,

(01:19):
although it was still a whopping one thousand pages long.
The book came out in nineteen forty two and was
titled Ilandia. Those who managed to get past its extensive
length became huge fans of the utopia depicted. Ilandia continues
to be a cult favorite today. Sylvia went on to
work at Harper's Bazaar, proving herself to be a talented

(01:43):
writer and editor. She eventually earned her own monthly humor column,
Never Want to Stick to the straight and narrow. She
wrote articles with cheeky titles like My Kitchen Hates Me
and how to make Chicken Liver Patie. Once in nineteen
fifty four, Sylvia wrote an article called the Death of
Lady Monda Greene. In it, Sylvia recalled learning the words

(02:04):
to a particular Scottish ballad when she was practicing. She
took a liking to the line they had slain the
Earl of Murray and Lady monda green But those weren't
the words at all. The actual line read they had
slain the Earl of Murray and laid him on the
green But instead of correcting her mistake and moving forward,

(02:26):
Sylvia pondered Lady Monda Greene, the character born of her
own imagination. In Sylvia's version of the story, Lady Mondagreene
was a romantic heroine with long, dark brown curls spread
out over the moss, who died hand in hand with
the earl. When she played the story of the ballad
back through her head, she decided that she actually liked

(02:47):
her version of the line better. This image, though completely
different from the original story, evoked a stronger emotional reaction.
It was sweeter, more romantic, as she said, leaving the
earl to die all alone, without even anyone to hold
his hand, I won't have it. Inspired by her experience,
Sylvia coined the term Manda Greene to describe words or

(03:10):
phrases that are articulated incorrectly. According to Sylvia, manda greens
aren't mistakes. They are portals to other worlds and better
than the original. If you lay yourself open to mandagreens,
she wrote in her article, you must be valiant. The
world blowing near will assail you with a thousand bright

(03:31):
and strange images. Nothing like them has ever been seen before,
and who knows what lost and lovely things may not
come streaming in with them. After inventing this term, Sylvia
began searching for Manda greens in everything from poetry to advertisements.
It even seemed to be a core theme in her
next project, A Shark Infested Rice Pudding, which is a

(03:52):
collection of three novellas. In each story, she explored the
idea of alternate realities in different ways. Through her uncreventional
writing style, she questioned the nature of truth itself. Shark
Infested Rice Pudding with Sylvia's last book. At the end
of her life, Sylvia was in the middle of writing
a biography of her great aunt. Sadly, her work was

(04:13):
cut short in nineteen eighty one when, at the age
of sixty four, she died of cancer, but her legacy
lives on. Years after Sylvia's death, people still delight in
the occasional misquoted song, lyric or intentionally fumbled phrase. Others, too,
find greater meaning and joy in these misinterpretations than the

(04:33):
work from which they originated. All month, we're talking about
word weavers. For more information, find us on Facebook and
Instagram at Wamanica Podcast special thanks to Liz Kaplan, my
favorite sister and co creator. Talk to you on Monday