{"id":2014,"date":"2022-11-09T19:18:29","date_gmt":"2022-11-09T19:18:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/?p=2014"},"modified":"2022-11-09T19:18:29","modified_gmt":"2022-11-09T19:18:29","slug":"surprising-origins-behind-expression-break-leg","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/2022\/11\/09\/surprising-origins-behind-expression-break-leg\/","title":{"rendered":"The Surprising Origins Behind the Expression “Break A Leg”"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"break
The origins of the expression “break a leg”.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Have you ever wondered why people say \u201cBreak a leg\u201d to performers before a performance?<\/p>\n

While the origins of the phrase are murky, there are several theories on how this curious practice got started.<\/p>\n

I hope your horse will break a leg<\/strong><\/h3>\n

The first mention of \u201cBreak a leg\u201d was recorded in print by Robert Wilson Lynd in 1921. An urbane literary essayist, he wrote an article, \u201cA Defence of Superstition,\u201d about the prevalence of superstition in the theatre and horse racing. He outlined that in horse racing, one would never wish someone good luck as it might push one\u2019s luck too far. You would say, rather,\u00a0 \u201cI hope your horse will break a leg.\u201d This served as a kind of reverse psychological thought to appease the spirits of fate, which favoured the humble. He also mentioned that though Theatre was not as superstitious as horse racing, it was close.<\/p>\n

I hope the principals break their legs<\/strong><\/h3>\n

In 1939, the phrase again turned up in an autobiography by Edna Ferber, titled \u201cA Peculiar Treasure\u201d. She recounts tales of understudies sitting backstage hoping for principals to break their legs.<\/p>\n

I hope you break a leg<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Nearly a decade later, author Bernard Sobel wrote in his book, The Theatre Handbook and Digest of Play, that performance actors never wished each other good luck, and instead said, \u201cI hope you break a leg\u201c.<\/p>\n

I hope you break your neck and legs<\/strong><\/h3>\n

The use of the phrase has also been attributed to an old Yiddish phrase (\u05d4\u05e6\u05dc\u05d7\u05d4 \u05d0\u05d5\u05df \u05d1\u05e8\u05db\u05d4) (\u201csuccess and blessing\u201c). It was later adapted in German as \u201cHans un beinbruch\u201d or \u201cHals- und Beinbruch\u201c, which translates as \u201cbreaking your neck and legs\u201d. It was used by both English and German pilots in WWII as a way to wish pilots a good flight.<\/p>\n

I hope you bend your leg<\/strong><\/h3>\n

\u201cBreak a leg\u201d\u00a0 may also allude to the practice of bowing or curtsying by performers during a curtain call. By placing the feet in front of each other and bending the knees, it breaks the line of the legs, hence the phrase, \u201cbreak a leg\u201d.<\/p>\n

One more possible origin comes from a legendary performance of Shakespeare\u2019s \u201cRichard III\u201d, starring 18th-century British actor David Garrick. The actor fractured his leg on stage and was so involved in the role that he didn\u2019t even notice he had broken it.<\/p>\n

Give me a break<\/strong><\/h3>\n

In North America, Vaudeville has laid claim to \u201cbreak a leg\u201d, but in this case, it refers to the crossing of the legs of curtains found on traditional Renaissance stages.\u00a0 Companies would often overbook performers, and only those lucky enough to be chosen would ultimately be paid. They would wish each other luck by saying, \u201cbreak a leg\u201d, meaning, \u201cI hope you get paid\u201c.<\/p>\n

Interestingly, \u201cBreak a Leg\u201d has evolved beyond the stage world, and now includes the variants such as \u201cgive me a break\u201c, \u201cgetting a break\u201d, and \u201cbreaking into the business\u201d.<\/p>\n

Ballet dancers also have a version to \u201cbreak a leg,\u201d which is, shall we say, a little more \u201ccolourful\u201d. Dancers blurt out \u201cMerde!\u201d before going out on stage as a way of disarming pre-performance jitters.<\/p>\n

The devil\u2019s influence<\/strong><\/h3>\n

In Spanish, the phrase goes a step further with, \u201cmucha mierda\u201d, or \u201clots of excrement\u201d.<\/p>\n

The opera world prefers \u201cToi toi toi \u201d as the good luck charm of choice.\u00a0 It sometimes includes the practice of knocking on wood or spitting on the floor. The phrase roughly translates to \u201cdevil, devil, devil\u201d \u2014 Teufel, pr. toi-fell) in German, and comes from \u201cNo\u2019 kommt mer in\u2019s Teu-Teu-Teufelskuchen bey ihm. Now we come into the De-De-Devil\u2019s Kitchen!\u00a0 It may also be related to the practice of spitting three times to ward off bad luck.<\/p>\n

Good luck<\/strong><\/p>\n

Lucky underwear, lucky ties, lucky dresses. But whatever you do, just don\u2019t say, \u201cGood luck\u201d.<\/p>\n

To wish a performer \u201cgood luck\u201d, is ironically considered bad luck. It can also be construed as being somewhat pessimistic by indirectly implying the performer may not be competent enough to succeed with luck. \u201cGood luck with that\u201d.<\/p>\n

Superstition<\/strong><\/p>\n

Psychologists have long been critical of the belief in external factors relating to performance. The risk of such beliefs is that it encourages performers to view events relying on competence and skill as outside of their control. Phycologists argue idioms may be tied to a performer\u2019s sense of self-efficacy. In other words, expectations about the future are relative to past outcomes rather than competency.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Have you ever wondered why people say \u201cBreak a leg\u201d to performers before a performance?\u00a0 While the origins of the phrase are murky, there are a number of theories on how this curious practice got started.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":2018,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"yst_prominent_words":[],"acf":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2022\/11\/Breal-a-leg-meaning.jpg","amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2014"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2014"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2014\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2019,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2014\/revisions\/2019"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2018"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2014"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2014"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2014"},{"taxonomy":"yst_prominent_words","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/main\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/yst_prominent_words?post=2014"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}