Latin – For or Against?

I like to talk about language issues with my friend Janis Koike, who has an enviable background in Spanish, French, and linguistics.

In a recent email, Janis made some comments about the study of Latin. She told me that she knows someone “who took Latin throughout junior high, high school and college. He was a finance major, but his academic hobbies were journalism and Latin. He insists that Latin was a great aid for understanding English grammar.  I, of course, disagree. I think the study of any foreign language enhances the command of the native language…so why not study a language that people speak?”

Guess what: I took four years of Latin in high school, plus another semester in college (we studied St. Augustine’s Confessions). So I’m going to weigh in here…and agree with Janis. (If you’re not interested in Latin, there’s a larger question here about a theory called “transfer of learning” – so I hope you’ll read on.)

I signed up for Latin because the teacher stopped by my eighth-grade English class and begged us to take her class (enrollment was low). (A contributing factor was that Latin was the official language of the Catholic Church back then, so I had some contact with the language every Sunday.)

I had exactly the same experience that Janis’s friend did: I learned grammar. If it weren’t for those Latin classes, I don’t think I’d ever have been exposed to terms like “nominative,” “indirect object,” and “past perfect.” Whatever grammar I know was drummed into me by Miss Walsh.

But wait…there’s more! Latin also helped with my vocabulary, and I learned some ancient history and had some exposure to Virgil.

So you might be surprised that I agree 100% with Janis: Don’t study Latin. You’re better off studying a language that people speak. (I did take Spanish in college, and several years later I got along pretty well chatting with some very patient Mexicans on a trip South of the Border.)

The veneration of Latin goes back to an old idea that it’s the best language and will make you smarter. But – as Janis says – exposure to any foreign language will improve your language skills. And if you choose a living language, you can talk to people!

Latin (despite a lot of wishful thinking in some academic quarters) isn’t better, or purer, or more sophisticated than any other language.

Most important (and faithful visitors to my blog already know what I’m going to say): you learned almost all the grammar you need before you were five years old. Most errors are diction problems, not grammar mistakes. If you grew up speaking English, working your way through a grammar workbook will not make you a better writer.

So what should you do to get better at writing? Write. Often. A lot. You also need to read, read, and read some more. And you need to get feedback from someone who cares about you and about language. If you can enhance your program with some curiosity about the English language – and language in general – that’s even better.

Have at it!

                                           Ancient Roman Forum

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Deconstructing Lady Gaga

The New Yorker recently posted a review of a new documentary about pop sensation Lady Gaga. A sentence from that review jumped out at me when I read it:

The accidental tells here – when Gaga stops steering her own story or suggests a version that seems to be at odds with the facts – are the most compelling.

Whew. Two unrelated ideas immediately popped into my head. So – hold onto your hat, because we’re going to be traveling in two directions today.

1.   I was immediately reminded of a principle from Steven Pinker’s wonderful book The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing in the 21st Century:”Good writing takes advantage of a reader’s expectations of where to go next.”

I expected the New Yorker article to provide examples of “accidental tells” – slippages in the image Lady Gaga is trying to present to us – and incidents “at odds with the facts” – contradictory details. But the article didn’t include a single example.

I wish, I wish author Amanda Petrusich had told us what she was thinking! For example, she mentions drug use – Lady Gaga lists all the medications she’s taking, and at one point she’s shown swallowing a pill. But those moments from the document are hardly “accidental” – the producer and director must have known they were there.

Here’s a takeaway for aspiring writers: tell readers where your writing will be taking them – and be sure to give readers what you promised. 

2. My other thought was about Jacques Derrida. Derridean deconstruction is all about “accidental tells” – omissions and marginal statements that can point us to useful truths if we’re patient enough to ferret them out.

When I read the Lady Gaga review, I was expecting something truly marginal (a favorite Derridean term) – perhaps something an alert audience member might overhear in a conversation or glimpse in a mirror while watching the documentary.

There’s nothing mystical or mysterious about deconstruction: it’s an everyday activity for us. We’re always reading “between the lines” and listening for gaps in what we’re told. (Parents automatically do this with their teenagers!)

Jesse M. Hellman, a Shaw scholar and friend who’s also a psychiatrist, says that he’s always looking for omissions in what his patients tell him: “You’ve talked about everyone in your family except your older brother. So what do you think is going on there?”

I hope I’ve aroused your curiosity about deconstruction – and given you something to think about! Stay tuned: next month I’m going to post a photo of my parents – and ask you to “deconstruct” it.

Lady Gaga

                                Lady Gaga

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Spread Thin or Thinly?

Early this month, Charlie and I spent several blissful days at Mohonk Mountain House near New Paltz, New York. One night we noticed that the restaurant (which is wonderful, by the way!) was exceptionally busy. “The servers are spread thin,” I said.

And then I had doubts. Charlie saw me struggling and offered “spread thinly” as a better option. We spent a few minutes discussing peanut butter and other things you spread (blankets, fertilizer, and gossip). I talked vaguely about copulative verbs that take adjectives rather than adverbs (“He looks happy today” versus “He looks happily today”). And then we gave up.

Back in our room, I Googled “spread thin or spread thinly” and quickly found the answer. When a verb leads to a result, use an adjective. (In plain English, ditch the -ly ending.)

Here’s an example:

Soon the program grew too large for its headquarters.

The program didn’t grow anything! Nobody’s thinking about soil and a watering can. What you’re really saying is that the program became too large. (A grammarian would say that grew in this sentence is a copulative verb that takes a predicate adjective.) So you would say that the program grew too large (not largely).

Here’s another verb that can take an adjective instead of an adverb (an -ly word):

He went crazy.

The sentence means he became crazy. It’s very different from “He went crazily out the door.”

So let’s go back to that restaurant. Nobody spread the servers. They became thin (sparse) because the dining room was so busy that night.

Relief!

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is Charlie-Mohonk-May-2016-ok-1024x682.jpg

Charlie and a rainbow trout at Mohonk (we threw it back, of course!)

 
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“A Number” or “The Number”?

I hope you’re up for another round of challenging the rules of English!

LinkedIn (a social media platform for professionals) hosts many discussion groups about a variety of topics. Recently someone raised a provocative grammar question:  should we say “a large number of researchers is active” or “a large number of researchers are active”?

How would you answer that question?

More than 50 writing professionals embarked on a lively discussion. Some argued for “is,” on the grounds that “a large number” is singular. Others argued for “are,” reasoning that “researchers” is plural.

Everybody was wrong.

I – ahem – answered the question correctly. A few people agreed with  me – but most ignored my comments and went back to arguing about prepositional phrases and singular and plural verbs.

So…I ask you…how would you answer today’s question? And (to add to the fun) would your answer be the same if you changed “a number of researchers” to “the number of researchers”?

And while we’re at it…how can I be so sure I’m right and almost everyone else was wrong?

*  *  *  *  * 

 Here are two principles for writers to live by:

  1. Usage – not grammar – is the key to writing correct English. Language is a social tool. People (not grammarians) make the rules.
  2. If you’re a native English speaker, you’ve been unconsciously absorbing English usage since you were a tot. Whenever you’re up against a rule, run it past your language experience and common sense.

Let’s look at some sentence pairs. Choose the one that sounds best to you.

1:

A large number of people is going to the show.

The large number of people is going to surprise the planners.

2.

A large number of people are going to the show.

The large number of people is going to surprise the planners.

3.

A large number of people are going to the show.

The large number of people are going to surprise the planners.

 *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  

Which sentence pair did you choose – #1, #2, or #3?

 *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  

I’m delaying my answer to make it harder for you to cheat by looking for the answer before you’ve thought about it. OK – here it comes: #2 is correct!

The usual rules of grammar don’t apply to “a number” and “the number.” The rule is that “a number” is plural and “the number” is singular.

Chances are #2 sounded best to you when you read the sentences – but then you started to doubt yourself. What about that prepositional phrase – “of people” – aren’t you supposed to skip over that? (Yes.) And “a number” and “the number” are both singular. You couldn’t possibly make one singular and one plural, could you? (Right again.)

Except that the rules don’t apply in those case. Common sense and experience will point you to the right answer.

But how can I be so sure? By playing my trump card. I went to my bookcase and pulled down Fowler’s Modern English Usage – the absolute authority on correct English. (If you don’t have a copy, your library has one. You can even call the reference librarian and save yourself a trip.)

According to Fowler, “a number” is plural, and “the number” is singular. Case closed!

When I posted my answer (the correct answer) on LinkedIn, I added a comment about the silliness of trying to reason your way to an answer about a sticky usage question. Check an authority!

Forty-seven people ignored that sensible (and professional) advice. Sigh. 

Fowler's Modern English Usage

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Words with Shadows

I do a lot of traveling and really enjoy it. Often, when I tell friends that I’m heading for the airport, they offer a send-off like “Be careful!” or “Have a safe trip, Jean.”

I know I’m supposed to feel reassured, as if a wish for safety could protect me from harm. But I always feel a shudder of nervousness instead. The word “safe” summons up all the things that can go wrong on a trip: kidnapping, a downed plane, a false arrest. My own preferred sendoff when friends are traveling is “Have fun!”

Many words come equipped with shadows. “There’s nothing to worry about” is something that people say only when a situation really is worrisome. “You can count on me” is a reminder that the person I’m depending on might bail out.

I’m remembering the look of panic on my husband’s face one time when we were leaving for a trip and I mentioned a phone call I’d made to our credit card company. “There won’t be any problem paying for our room,” I blithely told him. Big  mistake. He couldn’t relax until the desk clerk gave us our room key many hours later.

Shadows tend to make their appearance when we least expect them. Think of a parent who’s trying to warn a teenager about the perils of experimenting with drugs and sex. Hidden within your warnings is an ominous message: Doing these things is a possibility for you.

The same goes for religious parents trying to share their faith: implicit in their testimony is the possibility of not believing. And the same principle applies to atheists explaining why they don’t believe in a deity: their words are creating the very concept they’re trying to inoculate their children against.

 *  *  *  *  *

Today I’m going to talk about two words that can cast dark shadows: renewal and community. My point is not – of course – that you should avoid these useful words. What I’m hoping is to raise your awareness of the subtle and mysterious ways that words can complicate our lives.

Many years ago I was a member of a spiritual group that astounded me with its warmth and fervor…until things started to go wrong. No matter how hard I tried, I just didn’t fit in. It was mystifying: I’d never had trouble making friends before, and no one seemed to know what was wrong.

I finally decided that this particular group of people needed to rethink the way they practiced their faith, and I didn’t last long there. But there was always a nagging feeling that I had missed something important.

Much later I realized that shadow words were causing many of the problems.

Many members had attended a three-day spiritual workshop that had an amazing impact on the participants: people positively glowed when they came back. But here’s the thing: the words that shaped those workshops – renewal and community – had shadows that undermined the spiritual goals of love and unity.

Think about renewal. You renew library books and insurance policies because they’re expiring or going out of date. So a group that emphasizes renewal risks sorting its members into two categories. One contingent is refreshed, restored, and renewed. The other contingent (people like me – sigh) is stale, out of date, and expiring.

Another word that defined those workshops was community, and it too had a dark shadow: isolation, alienation, and loneliness. A workshop that creates its own community risks leaving everyone else shivering in the cold.

* * * * *

You may be wondering if there’s a way to avoid those splits. I think the answer is yes – if you’re aware of the shadows lurking nearby. Those workshop participants could have been reminded that renewal and community are flexible terms. Everyone feels spiritually stale sometimes, and we all know the how it feels to be cut off and disconnected from other people.

Another possibility is to search for a word with a less threatening shadow.  Instead of a renewal weekend, you could plan a retreat. Now your workshop is offering a respite for anyone who’s busy, preoccupied, distracted, rushed, or overworked. Who today doesn’t fall into that category?

My larger point, of course, is that we all need to pay close attention to our word choices. Language (as I never tire of explaining!) is not the inert, lifeless tool we often take it to be. Words have mysterious powers and hidden messages. Start listening for the shadows  that travel with expressions we use every day: “Be safe.” “No problem!” “Don’t worry.” “Trust me.” “My feelings for you will never change.” Uh-oh….

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When Wrong Is Right

Scott Joplin is my favorite composer. A line from his opera Treemonisha has been running through my head lately: “Wrong is never right.”

Joplin is correct, of course – unless you’re talking about language. Wrong is right when it’s more clear or more natural – or when you simply like it better. 

Here’s an example from the introduction to a personal essay by my friend Jane Brumbaugh:

Mary Ann, a music teacher, was a friend of mine. She invited me and a few other women to her living room to discuss forming a group to work toward passing the Equal Rights Amendment.

Someone in our writing group suggested that it would be better to put “me” second, like this:

“She invited a few other women and me…”

Check! Most of the time you’re supposed to put “me” after “women.” (Similarly, “Paul and I” sounds much better than “I and Paul.”) 

But I voted for putting me first in Jane’s piece. Doing it that way builds an oh-so-subtle bridge between the first sentence and the second one. Another advantage is that writing the sentence this way helps personalize Jane’s piece.

Mary Ann, a music teacher, was a friend of mine. She invited me and a few other women to her living room….

Ready for another one? Here’s a sentence I wrote myself based on a nono in Theodore Bernstein’s wonderful book Watch Your Language. Bernstein would give this sentence a thumbs-down. Even though I’m a great admirer of his, I would leave the sentence the way it is. (And to make things more interesting, I sneaked in another problem! Can you find it?)

The trio was honored for the performance they had given in March.

Give up? Trio is singular, and they is plural, so there’s an agreement error. (The sentence should be worded this way: “The trio was honored for the performance it had given in March.”)

I like my version better (sorry, Mr. Bernstein!) because it humanizes the singers. They is a better choice than it, even though a strict grammarian might slap my wrist with a ruler.

It’s true you could avoid the problem altogether by writing the sentence this way:

The trio was honored for the performance in March.

But I like “they had given” because now I can see – for just a moment – that trio performing on stage.

Let’s go on to the second problem – passive voice. I’ve known some self-proclaimed experts who say that passive voice (“the trio was honored”) is always wrong. Here’s how they’d want me to write the sentence:

The Arts Council honored the trio for the performance it had given in March.

Word processors tend to agree, and they always put an angry red line under passive-voice constructions.

So why did I decide to stick with passive voice? Because my version puts the trio in the position of importance, right at the beginning of the sentence. I don’t even want to mention the Arts Council. I want all the focus to go on the trio – and passive voice does the job for me very nicely.

Let’s challenge one more rule. Last month I did a post about Strunk and White’s admonition to “Omit needless words” in their classic book The Elements of Style. I suggested that sometimes those apparently needless words can enhance a sentence. Along the way I quoted an excerpt from Margaret Mitchell’s novel Gone with the Wind.

Enter Darrell Turner, a regular visitor to my blog who often leaves thoughtful and intelligent comments for me. He noticed something I had missed in that excerpt from Gone with the Wind: Mitchell’s unnecessary words. Here’s Darrell’s list:

“expectantly” in “expectantly upon him”

“long” in “long harangue”

“always” in “country funerals were always long”

“loved” in “loved friend”

What a great comment! I hadn’t noticed the redundancies. What’s even better is that Darrell’s comment got me thinking. If I had been Mitchell’s editor, would I have omitted those unnecessary words?

Umm…maybe. Editors need to be wary of making changes for a writer as strong as Mitchell was. And there’s always the question of whether those seemingly unnecessary words add something to the book. On the other hand, Gone with the Wind is a huge novel. Surely some cuts would be helpful, especially for readers who might not want to tackle such a weighty book.

So – here goes. I would have cut “expectantly” and “always” on the grounds that they don’t evoke any of the five senses. I would have kept “long” and “loved,” which are more tangible words.

What would you have done?

That last question is more important than anything else I’ve told you today. If you find yourself scratching your head when you’re working on a piece – wondering if there’s a better way to word a sentence, or trying to decide if the word you’ve chosen is the right one for the job – congratulations! You have entered the realm of real-world writers.

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Diction Mistakes and Gobbledygook

Many people think of language as kind of a label maker. The more labels (words) you know, the more successful you’re likely to be. I’ve known people who always carried a dictionary with them.

Certainly those people were on to something important. A friend of mine who was a career counselor told me that a high score on a vocabulary test is one of the most reliable predictors of future success.

But language is much more than a label maker. It’s a critical thinking tool that sorts and classifies everything we know, think about, and experience. A person with a large vocabulary can make subtle distinctions that lead to a more precise understanding of the world around us. The results are better thinking habits and wiser decisions.

Great writers (of course I’m thinking about Bernard Shaw!) are masters at using language to challenge readers and theatergoers to think more deeply about concepts we assume we understand – but probably don’t.

Think for a moment about the difference between grammar and diction. Many people (even some English teachers I’ve known) always lump them together. But diction (defined as “word choice”) has nothing to do with grammar (the deep structure of language).

What do you call the hot caffeinated beverage that many people drink with their breakfast? Answers might include “java,” “joe,” “cuppa,” and “coffee.” You probably use one word from that list most of the time. The same is true of children’s games (“hopscotch” or “potsy”?), money (“currency” or “bucks”?), sleep (“catch some Z’s” or “crash”?) – and countless other everyday words.

Those preferences have nothing to do with grammar. In fact many of the writing problems that English instructors and editors shake their heads over have nothing to do with grammar. Examples include clumsy sentences (“He expressed that he had a hope for a continuing friendship of a non-romantic nature”) and colloquialisms (“ain’t,” “cuss”).

If an instructor or editor returns your work heavily marked with a red pen, don’t assume that you need a course in formal grammar. The real problem could be diction errors – and diagramming sentences and doing workbook exercises won’t solve it.

Here’s some advice for you:

  • Take that feedback seriously: study it, ask for explanations, and learn as much as you can from it
  • Read, read, read – you’ll effortlessly absorb some of the writing practices of great authors
  • Ask a trusted friend to help you identify and correct diction problems in your conversation 
  • Aim for an easy and natural style in your writing

I’m going to take a minute or two to expand that last point (and this is especially for high school and college students). I’m often asked to help young people with homework and college application essays. These are students who study hard and do well in their academic studies.

But at least half the time what I’m asked to read is pretentious gobbledygook. Mind you, these are young men and women who speak with perfect clarity and impressive intelligence. But put a pen in their hands, or put them in front of a computer, and – OMG!

If you have an instructor who berates you endlessly about your writing, try putting your ideas into simple, straightforward sentences. Then show the result to your instructor and ask for suggestions about the next step. Very likely you’ll discover that using your own voice and choosing everyday words (not, of course, slang!) will work perfectly well.

Do me the favor of experimenting with my exhortations. (Translation: please try it!)label maker

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Subjunctives

You rarely hear complaints about people who overdo grammar. It’s much more common for people to be careless with subject-verb agreement, diction, pronoun case, and similar issues.

But I occasionally hear people using the subjunctive mood (that’s the grammatical term) when it’s not necessary. The word to watch for is if, and the question is whether to use was or were. (I’ve known people who use were all the time, just as I’ve known people who always use whom. Not a good solution!)

If your radio were tuned to NPR this morning at about 7:15, you heard an excellent report about Brexit.  INCORRECT

If I were a British citizen, I’d already be feeling the effects of Brexit.  CORRECT

Here’s what you need to know. The subjunctive (if I were) is only for situations that don’t exist. If something is (or was) possible, use was with if.

So…your radio really could have been tuned to NPR this morning. Use was:

If your radio was tuned to NPR this morning at about 7:15, you heard an excellent report about Brexit.  CORRECT

Here are two more examples. In the first sentence, Joan really could have been in Florida during the hurricane: use was. In the second sentence, Joan isn’t going to stop being busy, so you should use were.

If Joan was in Florida last month, she experienced the full force of Hurricane Irma. CORRECT

If Joan weren’t so busy, I’d ask her to chair the committee.  CORRECT

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Ten Tips for Successful Essays

Take it from an English professor with 30 years of experience: these tips work. (Many of them are also helpful for professional writing!)

Ten Tips for Successful Essays

  1. Before you start writing, review the directions from your instructor.
  2. Start working on your essay well before the due date.
  3. Freewrite to generate ideas before you begin drafting.
  4. Plan your essay carefully.
  5. Select a keyword that’s central to the point you’re making.
  6. Build your thesis (main point) around the keyword you selected.
  7. Take advantage of your instructor’s email, office phone, or office hours when you need help.
  8. Use your computer’s spellchecker and grammar checker.
  9. Use the free tutoring and other services offered by your school or college.
  10. Before submitting your essay, ask a friend or family member to read it and give you feedback.

Videos, PowerPoints, and other aids for writing effective essays are posted free at www.PlanMyPaper.com.

 

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Words to Avoid

I’ve been watching figure skating on TV since high school. Years ago, Dick Button (my favorite commentator) started a competition broadcast with a dramatic announcement: figure skating rules had changed. The new rules encompassed every aspect of competition: skating elements, scoring, music, and costumes.

Button mentioned the changes again and again that weekend: “We’re going to see something different now!”

But here’s the thing. I never found out what those changes were or what they meant. Were restrictions eased, or did the rules tighten? What was their purpose? To challenge the skaters more – or to add pizzazz to the competitions (which were big moneymakers on TV)? Most important, what did Button think of those changes – were they good or bad for the future of figure skating?

I never found out. Not once in that competition did Button explain what the changes were. (This was – of course – decades before the Internet, so I couldn’t just Google “figure skating rules” to get the answers to my questions.)

That frustrating weekend can be laid at the door of two bad habits that beset writers as well as sports announcers:

  1. Forgetting to put yourself into your viewers’ (or readers’) shoes.
  2. Using words that confuse rather than clarify.

Today I’m going to deal with the second point. Here are some words to put on your Do Not Use list:

change  alter  modify  revise  different

The problem is that these words are vague. Instead of change, alter, modify, and revise, consider these words: reform, improve, worsen, damage, help, enrich, enhance, harm, fix. For different, substitute better, worse, finer, superior, inferior, stricter, looser…you get the idea.

If you’re not finding the word you want, try a comparative word or phrase: stronger, happier, sadder, more clear, more miserable, and so on.

This is also a good opportunity to reinforce the first point: don’t forget about your readers. Put aside your excitement about what you know and try to think about what your readers don’t know. Trust me – they will thank you for it.

                        Dorothy Hamill

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