Talking Southern — …an’em

  “How are your mother and her companions?”  We would never say or ask such a thing in the South.  The question, in our minds, is this (and your compiler is striving to render it as phonetically accurate as possible):   “Hahr yu mama an’em?”

    There, friends, is an oft-heard Southern question, which, to state one more time for those who might not have gotten the gist in the opening paragraph, is a polite inquiry into the well-being of one’s mother, her household, her immediate and perhaps extended family, and group of friends.  “And them,” which is what “an’em” contracts, can cover substantial ground.

     “Larry an’em were at the town council meeting last night raising Cain again,” is something your compiler might have said many years ago when the now-deceased Larry and his always disgruntled handful of cronies would show up and disturb council meetings in Brooks.  Anyone whom your compiler might have said that to would have known Larry, known about his constant complaints, and known exactly which three or four cronies always showed up with him for support. Using “an’em” saved the listing of those extra three or four names.

    Of course, a grammatical pedant or popinjay would advise that the term should not be used subjectively, as above – “Larry and they were at the town council…” is the painfully proper grammar for that situation.  But “painfully” is the operative word there, for unless one wants to sound like a dadgum egghead, “Larry an’em” works just fine as both a subject and an object in our spoken Southern vernacular, at least to most hearers and users of the language.

     Your compiler believes the only proper time to write “an’em” is in a discussion such as this one, of that very phrase.   The more formal “and them” should be used typically in writing.  But then again, in writing about Larry and his disruptive cohort, one would probably list the whole group, as the who of “and them” might not be understood by just any reader of the writing.

    So “an’em” is a term of familiarity – spoken only; never written – said by someone to someone else, when both speaker and spoken-to know the named party and the group of folks the collective “an’em” is intended to represent.   It’s a time-honored shortcut in the South.  

     If you don’t believe it, you can ask your mama an’em.  If your mama is Southern and of sound mind, she will almost certainly back your compiler up.  If she isn’t…well… your compiler supposes there may be worse adversities in the world a person can overcome than having a non-Southern mother.