Discover more from SOME RAMBLING NOTES FROM A 21st CENTURY GEEZER
Mark Twain's "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" Now Available for Free in an English/IPA Version
IPA, in this case, stands for "International Phonetic Alphabet"
I have created an edition of Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876) in alternating paragraphs of English and IPA (International Phonetic Alphabet) using this website that transcribes various languages into IPA.
Tom Sawyer is a fitting book to be the first full-length classic novel (AFAIK) to be produced in English and IPA within one cover, as it was the first to be submitted by the author to his publisher as a typewritten manuscript (previous to this, all submissions were hand-scribbled).
Here’s a sample:
Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to have too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he thought over various plans for relief, and finally hit pon that of professing to be fond of Pain-killer. He asked for it so often that he became a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself and quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had no misgivings to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched the bottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish, but it did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of a crack in the sitting-room floor with it.
tɑm fɛlt ðæt ɪt wʌz taɪm tu weɪk ʌp; ðɪs sɔrt ʌv laɪf maɪt bi roʊˈmæntɪk ɪˈnʌf, ɪn hɪz ˈblaɪtɪd kənˈdɪʃən, bʌt ɪt wʌz ˈɡɛtɪŋ tu hæv tu ˈlɪtəl ˈsɛntəmənt ænd tu mʌʧ dɪˈstræktɪŋ vəˈraɪəti əˈbaʊt ɪt. soʊ hi θɔt ˈoʊvər ˈvɛriəs plænz fɔr rɪˈlif, ænd ˈfaɪnəli hɪt pɑn ðæt ʌv prəˈfɛsɪŋ tu bi fɑnd ʌv peɪn-ˈkɪlər. hi æskt fɔr ɪt soʊ ˈɔfən ðæt hi bɪˈkeɪm ə ˈnusəns, ænd hɪz ænt ˈɛndəd baɪ ˈtɛlɪŋ hɪm tu hɛlp hɪmˈsɛlf ænd kwɪt ˈbɑðərɪŋ hɜr. ɪf ɪt hæd bɪn sɪd, ʃi wʊd hæv hæd noʊ mɪsˈɡɪvɪŋz tu ˈælɔɪ hɜr dɪˈlaɪt; bʌt sɪns ɪt wʌz tɑm, ʃi wɑʧt ðə ˈbɑtəl klænˈdɛstənli. ʃi faʊnd ðæt ðə ˈmɛdəsən dɪd ˈrɪli dɪˈmɪnɪʃ, bʌt ɪt dɪd nɑt əˈkɜr tu hɜr ðæt ðə bɔɪ wʌz ˈmɛndɪŋ ðə hɛlθ ʌv ə kræk ɪn ðə ˈsɪtɪŋ-rum flɔr wɪð ɪt.
One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow cat came along, purring, eying the teaspoon avariciously, and begging for a taste. Tom said:
wʌn deɪ tɑm wʌz ɪn ði ækt ʌv ˈdoʊsɪŋ ðə kræk wɛn hɪz ænts ˈjɛloʊ kæt keɪm əˈlɔŋ, ˈpɜrɪŋ, ˈaɪɪŋ ðə ˈtiˌspun avariciously, ænd ˈbɛɡɪŋ fɔr ə teɪst. tɑm sɛd:
"Don't ask for it unless you want it, Peter."
"doʊnt æsk fɔr ɪt ənˈlɛs ju wɑnt ɪt, ˈpitər."
But Peter signified that he did want it.
bʌt ˈpitər ˈsɪɡnəˌfaɪd ðæt hi dɪd wɑnt ɪt.
"You better make sure."
"ju ˈbɛtər meɪk ʃʊr."
Peter was sure.
ˈpitər wʌz ʃʊr.
"Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to you, because there ain't anything mean about me; but if you find you don't like it, you mustn't blame anybody but your own self."
"naʊ juv æskt fɔr ɪt, ænd aɪl ɡɪv ɪt tu ju, bɪˈkɔz ðɛr eɪnt ˈɛniˌθɪŋ min əˈbaʊt mi; bʌt ɪf ju faɪnd ju doʊnt laɪk ɪt, ju ˈmʌsənt bleɪm ˈɛnibədi bʌt jʊər oʊn sɛlf."
Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down the Pain-killer. Peter sprang a couple of yards in the air, and then delivered a war-whoop and set off round and round the room, banging against furniture, upsetting flower-pots, and making general havoc. Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy of enjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming his unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing around the house again spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in time to see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mighty hurrah, and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of the flower-pots with him. The old lady stood petrified with astonishment, peering over her glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter.
ˈpitər wʌz əˈɡriəbəl. soʊ tɑm praɪd hɪz maʊθ ˈoʊpən ænd pɔrd daʊn ðə peɪn-ˈkɪlər. ˈpitər spræŋ ə ˈkʌpəl ʌv jɑrdz ɪn ði ɛr, ænd ðɛn dɪˈlɪvərd ə wɔr-wup ænd sɛt ɔf raʊnd ænd raʊnd ðə rum, ˈbæŋɪŋ əˈɡɛnst ˈfɜrnɪʧər, əpˈsɛtɪŋ ˈflaʊər-pɑts, ænd ˈmeɪkɪŋ ˈʤɛnərəl ˈhævək. nɛkst hi roʊz ɑn hɪz haɪnd fit ænd prænst əˈraʊnd, ɪn ə ˈfrɛnzi ʌv ɛnˈʤɔɪmənt, wɪð hɪz hɛd ˈoʊvər hɪz ˈʃoʊldər ænd hɪz vɔɪs proʊˈkleɪmɪŋ hɪz ʌnəˈpizəbᵊl ˈhæpinəs. ðɛn hi wɛnt ˈtɛrɪŋ əˈraʊnd ðə haʊs əˈɡɛn ˈsprɛdɪŋ ˈkeɪɑs ænd dɪˈstrʌkʃən ɪn hɪz pæθ. ænt ˈpɑli ˈɛntərd ɪn taɪm tu si hɪm θroʊ ə fju ˈdʌbəl summersets, dɪˈlɪvər ə ˈfaɪnəl ˈmaɪti hʊˈrɑ, ænd seɪl θru ði ˈoʊpən ˈwɪndoʊ, ˈkæriɪŋ ðə rɛst ʌv ðə ˈflaʊər-pɑts wɪð hɪm. ði oʊld ˈleɪdi stʊd ˈpɛtrəˌfaɪd wɪð əˈstɑnɪʃmənt, ˈpirɪŋ ˈoʊvər hɜr ˈɡlæsəz; tɑm leɪ ɑn ðə flɔr ɪkˈspaɪrɪŋ wɪð ˈlæftər.
"Tom, what on earth ails that cat?"
"tɑm, wɑt ɑn ɜrθ eɪlz ðæt kæt?"
"I don't know, aunt," gasped the boy.
"aɪ doʊnt noʊ, ænt," ɡæspt ðə bɔɪ.
"Why, I never see anything like it. What did make him act so?"
"waɪ, aɪ ˈnɛvər si ˈɛniˌθɪŋ laɪk ɪt. wɑt dɪd meɪk hɪm ækt soʊ?"
"Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly; cats always act so when they're having a good time."
"did aɪ doʊnt noʊ, ænt ˈpɑli; kæts ˈɔlˌweɪz ækt soʊ wɛn ðɛr ˈhævɪŋ ə ɡʊd taɪm."
"They do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tom apprehensive.
"ðeɪ du, du ðeɪ?" ðɛr wʌz ˈsʌmθɪŋ ɪn ðə toʊn ðæt meɪd tɑm ˌæprɪˈhɛnsɪv.
"Yes'm. That is, I believe they do."
"Yes'm. ðæt ɪz, aɪ bɪˈliv ðeɪ du."
The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized by anxiety. Too late he divined her "drift." The handle of the telltale teaspoon was visible under the bed-valance. Aunt Polly took it, held it up. Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the usual handle -- his ear -- and cracked his head soundly with her thimble.
ði oʊld ˈleɪdi wʌz ˈbɛndɪŋ daʊn, tɑm ˈwɑʧɪŋ, wɪð ˈɪntrəst ˈɛmfəˌsaɪzd baɪ æŋˈzaɪəti. tu leɪt hi dɪˈvaɪnd hɜr "drɪft." ðə ˈhændəl ʌv ðə ˈtɛlˌteɪl ˈtiˌspun wʌz ˈvɪzəbəl ˈʌndər ðə bɛd-valance. ænt ˈpɑli tʊk ɪt, hɛld ɪt ʌp. tɑm wɪnst, ænd drɑpt hɪz aɪz. ænt ˈpɑli reɪzd hɪm baɪ ðə ˈjuʒəwəl ˈhændəl -- hɪz ir -- ænd krækt hɪz hɛd ˈsaʊndli wɪð hɜr ˈθɪmbəl.
"Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor dumb beast so, for?"
"naʊ, sɜr, wɑt dɪd ju wɑnt tu trit ðæt pur dʌm bist soʊ, fɔr?"
"I done it out of pity for him -- because he hadn't any aunt."
"aɪ dʌn ɪt aʊt ʌv ˈpɪti fɔr hɪm -- bɪˈkɔz hi ˈhædənt ˈɛni ænt."
"Hadn't any aunt! -- you numskull. What has that got to do with it?"
"ˈhædənt ˈɛni ænt! -- ju numskull. wɑt hæz ðæt ɡɑt tu du wɪð ɪt?"
"Heaps. Because if he'd had one she'd a burnt him out herself! She'd a roasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was a human!"
"hips. bɪˈkɔz ɪf hid hæd wʌn ʃid ə bɜrnt hɪm aʊt hərˈsɛlf! ʃid ə ˈroʊstəd hɪz ˈbaʊəlz aʊt ʌv hɪm 'thout ˈɛni mɔr ˈfilɪŋ ðæn ɪf hi wʌz ə ˈhjumən!"
Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing in a new light; what was cruelty to a cat might be cruelty to a boy, too. She began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, and she put her hand on Tom's head and said gently:
ænt ˈpɑli fɛlt ə ˈsʌdən pæŋ ʌv rɪˈmɔrs. ðɪs wʌz ˈpʌtɪŋ ðə θɪŋ ɪn ə nu laɪt; wɑt wʌz ˈkrulti tu ə kæt maɪt bi ˈkrulti tu ə bɔɪ, tu. ʃi bɪˈɡæn tu ˈsɑfən; ʃi fɛlt ˈsɑri. hɜr aɪz ˈwɔtərd ə ˈlɪtəl, ænd ʃi pʊt hɜr hænd ɑn tɑmz hɛd ænd sɛd ˈʤɛntli:
"I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, it did do you good."
"aɪ wʌz ˈminɪŋ fɔr ðə bɛst, tɑm. ænd, tɑm, ɪt dɪd du ju ɡʊd."
Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible twinkle peeping through his gravity.
tɑm lʊkt ʌp ɪn hɜr feɪs wɪð ʤʌst ə pərˈsɛptəbəl ˈtwɪŋkəl ˈpipɪŋ θru hɪz ˈɡrævəti.
"I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with Peter. It done him good, too. I never see him get around so since --"
"aɪ noʊ ju wʌz ˈminɪŋ fɔr ðə bɛst, aunty, ænd soʊ wʌz aɪ wɪð ˈpitər. ɪt dʌn hɪm ɡʊd, tu. aɪ ˈnɛvər si hɪm ɡɛt əˈraʊnd soʊ sɪns --"
"Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate me again. And you try and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't take any more medicine."
"oʊ, ɡoʊ lɔŋ wɪð ju, tɑm, bɪˈfɔr ju ˈæɡrəˌveɪt mi əˈɡɛn. ænd ju traɪ ænd si ɪf ju kænt bi ə ɡʊd bɔɪ, fɔr wʌns, ænd ju ˈnidənt teɪk ˈɛni mɔr ˈmɛdəsən."
You can download the PDF for free here.
Others of my books that may interest you are:
Taterskin & The Eco Defenders (which contains both Wonders Never Cease and Tell It to Future Generations, in English only). Taterskin & The Eco Defenders is also available in an IPA-only edition as a PDF, as announced here.
Rebel With A Cause: Mark Twain’s Hidden Memoirs is a biography masquerading as an autobiography.
Taterskin & The Eco Defenders is a picaresque, cli-fi, time travel story.