Saturday, 23 February 2013

Gramarly (sic)

This has just popped up on my screen
Notice anything? Well, two things actually.
  • The typo in the header is not corrected. 
  • More significantly, the errors corrected aren't errors of grammar - which seems to me (in a product with a name that refers explicitly to grammar) to be a fairly gross oversight.
Suppose I had written 'They aunt errors of grammar,' would the gran'ma checker have noticed? Or - less pleasingly, but more to the point - what about '...enhance you're writing'?

About 18 months ago there was a discussion  about the unpopularity of the passive in the UsingEnglish forums, to which I made this contribution:
One reason for its unpopularity may be that whenever you use it in WinWord the Grammar checker whips out its green pen and says 'Passive voice. Suggest rewriting.' - perhaps they mean 'A rewrite is suggested'.

(This may have been fixed in the latest flavour of WinWord, but I doubt it. )
 A fellow moderator added:
I always suspected that grammar checkers went for that as an easy rule to turn into a computer routine, taking something from Gower's Plain Words and twisting it into a rule that has become semi-accepted.
And I added this afterthought:
Yes - I don't think WinWord started it - which would be an excessively paranoid belief! They just encoded a 'rule' as you said, without bothering to consider its limitations. But Word's grammar checker is a pretty ubiquitous disseminator of that limited understanding.
Generally users of grammar checkers find them a useful tool, but one that needs close attention and post-editing. In my life as a technical writer I sometimes edited other people's work and found errors that had been suggested by Word and that they had unthinkingly accepted. Only last week I saw the phrase 'the choir needs more higher voices [a greater number of people with higher voices]....' - and Firefox's grammar checker marked the 'mistake'.

Grammar checkers are improving. One that is quite useful (but not of course infallible) was announced last month in the UsingEnglish forums:
I have put together an online grammar checker, "GrammarTool". During graduate school my friends would often have me read their drafts as I was one of the few native English speakers around. Eventually I had the idea of writing software to do some automatic basic checks.

Eventually this personal project morphed into a website. The good news: the website is free (and I'll keep it that way unless traffic really picks up and I need to pay for faster hardware), it doesn't have ads; the interface is relatively simple. I am eager to introduce features -- my own skill and time allowing.

The bad news -- like any automatic grammar checker -- my tool is still far worse than having a real live person read your writing
If the poster's web-site is up to it, I'll post a link in an update on this page.

 b
Update 2013.02.24:17.00: Here it is: GrammarTool. What I like about it is that the user's in charge and there isn't a complicated user-interface. There is a Feedback button, which you can use both for feedback and for suggested new features.

Update 2013.02.25:17.00: By chance I just noticed that the moderator I mentioned earlier on ('Tdol')  has in fact written a blog post that deals specifically with Grammarly – which was the starting point for this post. It was written more than a year [A further update!] ago, though I imagine the principles are still the same.






Update: 2013.10.02.15:55
Header updated:


 Mammon (When Vowels Get Together V4.0: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs – AA-AU, EA-EU, and  IA-IU, and – new for V4.0 – OA-OU.  If you buy it, contact  @WVGTbook on Twitter and I'll alert you to free downloads of the forthcoming volumes; or click the Following button at the foot of this page.)
And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources: nearly 32,400 views**,  and  4,400 downloads to date. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1570 views/700 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.
 

Sunday, 17 February 2013

Sez who? Take 2

Excuse my recent silence. What with the Crystal talk, -EE- words that make the /i:/ sound*, and furniture removals, it's been a busy week. It started out to be a report of the Monday talk, but ended up being a bit of a rant about intellectual bullying - which had the same theme as the Crystal talk (language and culture).

Last Monday, David Crystal delivered the 'inaugural English Language/Council lecture' (or so it was described by the first speaker) on the subject of The future of English: coping with culture. It was, as he said at the outset, 'little more than a string of stories', but for all that it was an enjoyable and enlightening string of stories. I wonder if he chose his first anecdote - about a break-down in communication over eggs in a diner in the US - with a private hat-tip to William Caxton's similar anecdote reported by many other commentators (including Crystal himself, in The Stories of English). The word 'similar' may need some justification; it was similar in that it involved eggs (in Caxton's case the rival words egges [Northern] and eyren [Southern]) , a culture-clash in a public eating place, and a traveller who was perhaps not as naïve as the reporter made him out to be:
...in my days happened that certain merchants were in a ship in Thames for to have sailed over the sea to Zealand, and for lack of wind they tarried at Foreland, and went to land for to refresh them.  And one of them named Sheffield, a mercer, came into a house and asked for meat, and especially he asked after eggs; and the good wife answered that she could speak no French, and the merchant was angry, for he could speak no French, but would have had eggs, and she understood him not.  And then at last another said, that he would have "eyren"; then the goodwife said that she understood him well.  Lo, what should a man in these days now write, eggs or eyren? 
from a Boucher.edu (slightly modernised) extract from Caxton's prrologue to his edition (1490) of Virgil's Eneydos
Of this oft-quoted story Crystal says:
More likely [than a reading of the story at face value] the story arose from a piece of banter, much as one might find today in a London pub when someone with, say, an American accent orders some drinks, the barman fails to catch what was said, and another customer intervenes with a comment about the Americans 'not speaking English'.
 The Stories of English p. 208. The imagined pub conversation is not, incidentally, the same as Crystal's own story, which is at 13'55-15'05 here.
By chance I had mentioned the importance of cultural understanding earlier this year in this blog. And by another chance I had just bookmarked with the tag toblog (clearing the decks for my trip to London) a piece with the intriguing title Why Only Some Grammar Rules Are Breakable. And - coincidence upon coincidence (like London buses, three coming at once [and there's a cultural referewnce that I bet doesn't travel well]) - it was written in response to an article that I had previously written about here.

My response to the Breakable piece may seem rather ad-Hebraist (that's not a rather arbitrary bit of anti-semitism - its author's doctorate was in Hebrew grammar); but that is rather my point (and Crystal's): speaking another person's language is only the first step on the journey to mutual comprehension.

Hoffman (its author) begins by making the traditional tripartite division, so beloved of a  certain kind of writer: 'There are three distinct ways to look at grammar' or, as Caesar might have said 'Grammatica est omnis divisa in partes tres';  Caesar, though had the advantage that very few of his contemporary readers might ever find themselves in a position to ask 'Sez who?'

Hoffman's first way to look at grammar (which it isn't - a 'way to look' that is) is 'prescriptive grammar'. For reasons best  known to Hoffmann he gives this the rather clunky soubriquet of 'the "Who Died and Made You King?" school' (a well-chosen word, 'school' - though not his - as the challenge to authority is redolent of the US schoolyard‡). After an unsurprising overview of this sort of grammar, his final 'Ms. O'Conner and Mr. Kellerman [authors of the article I discussed here] are simply wrong [my emphasis] when they say that "to" isn't part of the infinitive in English' comes somewhat out of left field. Previously he has said '...that's the way it goes. The kings told us so. And the same is true of properly positioning [my emphasis again] prepositions and not inserting items into infinitives.'  So his position on split infinitives is clear - not to say clearly outdated. He could look to any one of dozens -  probably hundreds - of authorities. OUP put its blessing on the split infinitive last century. I use that rather arcane dating system because I remember a colleague gleefully citing the preface to a '90s edtion of the Concise Oxford English Dictionary [that may not be the precise edition] and she was made redundant before the turn of the century.


But Hoffmann's 'simply wrong' reminded me of another culture-clash in my first CELTA lesson (training to be an EFL/ESOL teacher) nearly seven years ago. I've been studying foreign languages, off and on, for about 50 years. In French, Latin, Greek, German, Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian (that's the approximate order of the onset of study) the infinitive was one word; and to translate manger we learnt that we had to use two words - even to the extent of having a teacher correcting us: 'No, it's not just "eat", it's "to eat"!' That was the culture I had known as a student of foreign languages.

In my CELTA class, though, my trainer used 'infinitive' differently. The infinitive (the form of the verb with no tense marking - whence the name, incidentally†) took two forms: the 'to-infinitive' and the 'bare infinitive', and the default sort of infinitive tout sec was the bare infinitive. So as a teacher of English as a Foreign Language one learns to say things like 'To form the -ing- form of "eat" you add "-ing" to the infinitive'. 'Simply wrong'? What is simple is that the view is born of a culture clash - the culture of people who study languages and the culture of people learning and teaching English as a Foreign Language. In the words of Molière's Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme 'Nous avons changé tout ça!'

Let's return to Hoffmann's ways to look at grammar: 'The second way to look at grammar is both more interesting and less appreciated...[:] descriptive linguistics'. Quite so. It's a shame he didn't just say that rather than dress it up in another bit of 'man o' t'people' slang (which, in any case, is misleading): But Everyone's Doing It! The example he gives is this.
For example, in English, "I am" and "I'm" mean the same thing: "I am going to the movies" is the same as "I'm going to the movies." But even so, an English speaker might say, "he's taller than I am," but never "he's taller than I'm." Hundreds of millions of Americans, Brits, and more all agree on this basic fact, in spite of mostly never having thought about it before....
True. Unarguable. Language is what  everyone's doing, linguistically, and behind it lurk rules like this. But the schoolyard self-jusification 'But Everyone's Doing It!' is used to justify a mistake or an infraction of a cultural norm, rather than an unremarked truth. And is this, in the words of the title, an unbreakable rule? Probably - though Hoffmann doesn't say as much, saving the words for a catchy headline. People don't say  "he's taller than I'm" for the same reason that a footballer - the culture-clash here is intentional; 'he only does it to annoy, because he knows it teases'; I mean Association Football - doesn't pick up the ball. If they do, it becomes a different game. That's the way the language is. This sort of rule is unbreakable simply because if you break it you're not playing the game; it's not the sort of rule that allows cognoscenti to ask 'Shall I break it?' I wonder if that makes it unbreakable?

Finally, the third way: 'the third is art: what's the best way to put words together to achieve a certain goal?' Hoffmann cites various great writers, writing ungrammatically for art's sake. Fine. But it's not a way of looking at grammar. The suspension of grammaticality is not the breaking of a rule. I don't have very much to say about this 'way' because it's vacuous [see Update].

So what have we got? A tripartite division that doesn't work; an overview of prescriptive grammar with an implied blessing of some prescriptive rules on entirely arbitrary grounds; an overview of descriptive grammar that misses the point; and a third bit left over that says 'All bets are off if you're a great writer.' There are no three divisions; there are two - let's call a spade a spade: prescriptive and descriptive. And the bailiwick of art doesn't extend beyond prescriptive rules (unless you're James Joyce!) This doesn't remotely justify the title of Hoffmann's post.

But. generally, culture underlies all this. Hoffmann belongs to the same genus as Dave Barry's 'Mrs Thistlebottom' in his Mister Language Person columns . The world of language is full of arbitrary prescriptive rules, and he will pick and choose which ones will prescribe for him things like 'properly positioning prepositions'. All well and good; dinosaurs dominated the Earth for millions of years, and some of them were pretty scary; but they didn't survive the rise of the mammals. And this mammal resents being told how to write and speak by someone who brandishes his academic prowess but who doesn't understand my culture.

b
* This category represents a large majority (nearly 90% of all words that include the vowel-pair -EE-), and I shall have added it to the work-in-progress version of V2 of When Vowels Get Together Real Soon Now.
‡I don't know whether Hoffmann's high-school education was indeed in the USA, though he has taught in enough US high-schools, to judge from his CV.
† The infinitive is non-finite. In Portuguese it is even called o infinito.

Update, 2013.02.19:11.35 I should make it clear that when I referred to Hoffmann's discussion of 'the third way to look at grammar', using the word 'vacuous', I didn't mean 'vacant'. There are several interesting observations, which you can see in the article itself. But they are observations that are clearly examples typical of descriptive linguistics.

Update: 2013.10.02.15:55
HeadFooter updated
Update: 2014.01.05.12:35
And again:



 Mammon When Vowels Get Together V5.2: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs. Now complete (that is, it covers all vowel pairs –  but there's still stuff to be done with it; an index, perhaps...?)

And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources:  nearly 36,000 views  and  5,000 downloads to date**. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1806 views/840 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Pot? What pot?

This is just a little amuse-souris - something I was going to develop and release in the fulness of time (when it would be... erm, fuller). But of late I've been engaged in justifying my status as an #eltchat blogger (I'll add a link to my handiwork later). So I'm releasing it now as a pot-boiler.

The man who does has just* given me confirmation of Knowles's Law of Waste Disposal, which holds that:
When clearing up after work out of doors, there will always be one more load [sack or wheelbarrow] than you estimate will be necessary, even when you allow for Knowles's Law.
He was digging out the soil where he was going to set a gate-post, and asked me where I wanted the waste. I asked how many sacks he'd need. 'Two should do it - no, make it three just to be on the safe side.' I went to get him the sacks - three, with a fourth just to be on the safe side. Between us we had got the calculation right; there were four bagsful when he had finished.

b

PS That 'just' was relatively true when I wrote it.
PPS That is 'true as a relative expression'
Update 2013.02.15:22.13 PPS Here's my summary of the #eltchat at midday (GMT) on 6 Feb.

Update: 2013.10.02.15:55
Header updated:


 Mammon (When Vowels Get Together V4.0: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs – AA-AU, EA-EU, and  IA-IU, and – new for V4.0 – OA-OU.  If you buy it, contact  @WVGTbook on Twitter and I'll alert you to free downloads of the forthcoming volumes; or click the Following button at the foot of this page.)
And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources: nearly 32,400 views**,  and  4,400 downloads to date. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1570 views/700 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.
 

Monday, 4 February 2013

It must be true, a SURVEY says so

The Mail Online (which scarcely deserves a link, but which - if your blood-pressure can take it - you can find by working back from this article) has done it again (they really ought to have a letterhead that says 'By Appointment to Her Majesty the Queen, Raisers of Blood Pressure').

My attention was caught by a discussion in a LinkedIn forum (open only to members, but anyone can sign up) with the title Is British English a waste of time? - an interesting conclusion to draw from the 'survey'. But my innate scepticism was raised by the first sentence in the thread:
According to a survey in New York, British people use 60 unnecessary words every day, 420 needless words a week and 21,840 superfluous words a year, and all because we try to avoid speaking directly.
This was dubious on a number of grounds. 
  • Who did the 'survey' and why? 
  • Who or what was 'surveyed', with regard to what? 
  • Why was it done in New York (if it was at all), what special insight did the alleged New Yorkers have into British English, and where did the samples of British English come from? 
  • What do all those numbers mean, how were they collected, and do they have any significance? 
 (That was before I'd even followed the link in the post, which is here.)

I set out to find the answers to those questions, and - not surpisingly - the Mail Online wasn't much help. It kept referring to the 'survey', but gave no details whatsoever - apart from the conclusions, and the fact that it was produced by the New York Bakery Company - whose website is 'under construction'. Google tells me they are suppliers of onion bagels to Waitrose; and the web address has the suffix .co.uk. - which suggests that they are based in the UK. But, according to a whois search the registrant is Maple Leaf Foods Inc., of Toronto. The site is one of 40 sites  'hosted on this server', and was registered in 2003. Details are here. So, whether it came from somewhere in the UK or Canada, it's not 'a survey in New York' - that hub of academic excellence in the field of linguistics.

As New York Bakery Co's website - after 10 years -  is still 'under construction', I have to conclude that their interest in communication is limited. So I tried Maple Leaf Foods Inc. - whose website is fuller, and which (the company, that is) was founded long before I was born. But the website is incredibly slow - or perhaps this is another triumph for 'Tesco.net's Infra-Slow "Broadband"' - so (apart from the possibly interesting fact that they have a subsidiary called 'Maple Leaf Bakery') I have drawn a blank.

New York Bakery Co have just 'launched' (says the article - but where?) a translation crib-sheet for people who don't understand the nuances of British English. And I suspect that the Mail Online's source is a press release. But what has their survey found?
[T]he average adult wastes 1.7 million words over a lifetime while struggling to make a point, according to a study.
Rather than get to the point, Britons skirt around issues and use long-winded phrases to hide what they really think leading to confusion and arguments according to an American survey.
Hmmm... 'Wastes'...'Struggling to make a point'...'Rather than get to the point'...'Skirt around'... 'Long-winded'... 'Hide what they really think'... No bias there then.

It is true that British English can be wordier than American English, and that this can cause confusion. (Come to that, American English can be wordier than British English: 'domestic waste operative' is wordier than 'dustman'. It depends on the context. And confusion works both ways. The survey, whatever it is, just says 'We don't understand you because you don't talk straight (like you should - we're just straight-talking innocents).'

Perhaps the truth is that the gulf between British English and American English is greater than we thought. This American-speaker is saying 'I know your language, and you get it wrong.' But perhaps he doesn't know it - or, more precisely he knows its nuts and bolts, but does not understand its background in British culture*). And as it happens there's another LinkedIn forum that discusses inter-cultural issues. There's money involved in the Training behind this forum, but I suspect it might be money well spent, rather than frittering it on jokey 'surveys' with the dubious credentials of an onion-bagel maker!

b

PS When I saw this article I thought it would point to the 'research'. I was looking forward to getting my teeth into the numbers and the assumptions; I expect most of my readers were hoping I'd do that too. I haven't given up all hope of doing this, and if I do I'll write an update.


Update 2013.02.04:12.30 A few tweaks - l'esprit de l'escalier
Update 2013.02.04:14.10 Added PS
*Update 2013.02.05 Added this clarification

Update: 2013.10.02.16:05
Header updated:


 Mammon (When Vowels Get Together V4.0: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs – AA-AU, EA-EU, and  IA-IU, and – new for V4.0 – OA-OU.  If you buy it, contact  @WVGTbook on Twitter and I'll alert you to free downloads of the forthcoming volumes; or click the Following button at the foot of this page.)
And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources: nearly 32,400 views**,  and  4,400 downloads to date. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1570 views/700 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.
 

Thursday, 31 January 2013

O tempora, O more's the pity

As my schoolfriend, and manager of NATO Unabbreviated (a one-gig wonder), John Mullins* said when I asked him to tell me about a band he had suggested we should go and hear at a pub in Fulham Broadway in 1978, Dire Straits's lead singer was 'a sort of cross between Eric Clapton and J. J. Cale'. Fast-forward 32 years (more than half a lifetime... any chance of a Rewind button?...), and Clapton recorded an album†, Clapton, which includes a track with a guest appearance from none other than J. J. Cale.

And John was right. But 75p to go into a pub and not even get a seat...! Well, I did cough up, but it still sticks in my craw...Doh.

b

*If anyone knows John, say hello and ask him if he's looking for a guitarist
†From the Latin [libru(m)] albu(m)‡, a reference to the white pages of (originally) scrap-books - cp 'alb' (the white garment that RC priests wear under the chasuble, 'albumen', and 'aubade' (which has been on a long journey from  the whitening of the sky at dawn - French aube - to a word that represents a song sung at dawn), etc.... I wonder whether the designer of The Beatles' 'White album' knew this...?
‡ Yet another example of a new word for a thing being coined from an adjective, as discussed here. The same post explains the philological convention of referring to what a classicist would identify as 'the accusative case' rather than 'the nominative'.

Tales from the word face

In my travails towards V2 of When Vowels Get Together (see what I did there? Apologies if - it offended you as much as it would have offended me if I'd been reading it ) I've finally embarked on the vowel-pair -EE-, and I find - much to my relief (I think I may have posted about the daunting prospect of -EE- words, as e is the most common vowel - which I stupidly assumed meant a pair of them would make the most common digraph) - that there are a smidgin over half as many -EE- words as there are -EA- words. (The exact numbers, which include hits for idioms - there are, for example, separate index hits in the Macmillan English Dictionary for both 'needle' and 'a needle in a haystack' - don't give the whole story. There might, for some unaccountable - not to say unlikely - reason be significantly more idioms with -EE- words than idioms with -EA- words. I doubt it though.)

For the record, then, the figures are 3638 for the string '*ea*' and 1900 for '*ee*'. Onwards and upwards.

Update 2013.01.01: A few tweaks

Update: 2013.10.02.16:05
Header updated:
Update: 2024.02.11.19:05
Footer removed and link to finished book updated

Sunday, 27 January 2013

Sez who?

'Most of What You Think You Know About Grammar is Wrong'


This is the sort of lazy cliché that makes my lip curl more than somewhat. People don't 'know things about grammar'; more to the point, they're not taught things about grammar. In some cases, they're taught grammatical rules that the teacher thinks are true; and almost always those are wrong. Moreover, what's that 'you' doing? I can see that it makes for a catchy headline, but it risks contemptuous  scrutiny by people who don't think anything of the sort (whatever that may be)!

And most annoying is the fact that the article's heart's in the right place (or rather the hearts of the 'bloggers at Grammarphobia.com and former New York Times editors' who wrote it). I started by laying into the headline; OK, as a committee was writing the post, maybe an unpaid intern (and while we're on the subject of unpaid interns, sign this, won't you?) wrote it. So, what about the post itself?

Here's the first paragraph and a bit:

You’ve probably heard the old story about the pedant who dared to tinker with Winston Churchill’s writing because the great man had ended a sentence with a preposition. Churchill’s scribbled response: “This is the sort of English up with which I will not put.”

It’s a great story, but it’s a myth.
What has this got to do with the point of the post? The scribbled riposte – not made, I think, by Churchill, but reported by Sir Ernest Gowers in an early edition of Fowler is an example of the sort of 'rule' the post is talking about; so it's relevant. But what has the next line got to do with the price of fish? If they want to say it's untrue (a usage of 'myth' that I loathe [sic, and another thing I loathe is being thought to have got the spelling wrong when I use 'loth' to mean 'unwilling'] with the heat of a million Suns, as my little sister knows to her cost*), they're undermining their own argument. And to what end? They give no authority for their statement in any case.

Perhaps 'legend' ('that which is to be read' legendum ) would be nearer the mark as it has been written about by Gowers. And the written record has been been reproduced and embellished and distorted over the years. My headmaster (RIP 'Dodo', a bully but a charming and talented one) had it as “This is the sort of English that I will not up with put.” Another source (I forget which) held that it was Churchill again, but added an expletive or two.

The thing is that English has phrasal verbs where a verb is thrown together with a 'particle' (usually a preposition, but without its prepositional force). So that you cut a tree down before cutting it up. Or you 'listen out for the milkman' although nothing goes out from the listener; an acoustics engineer might hold that in fact any movement (sound waves) is towards the listener. English shares this trait  (in a less extreme way) with German, of which Mark Twain famously wrote:
The Germans have an inhuman way of cutting up their verbs. Now a verb has a hard time enough of it in this world when it's all together. It's downright inhuman to split it up. But that's just what those Germans do. They take part of a verb and put it down here, like a stake, and they take the other part of it and put it away over yonder like another stake, and between these two limits they just shovel in German.
Mark Twain's Speeches, "Disappearance of Literature"
(Skippable though not entirely irrelevant - digression)
My choice of 'listen out' as an example is not entirely accidental. I'm singing this season Fauré's Requiem, which includes the prayer Exaudi orationem meam. This phrase is preceded by a soprano solo tune† marked both piano and dolce: a very gentle and not-very-down-to-earth (in fact angelic)  'It is fitting that a hymn should be offered to you in Sion, O God'. Here the human penitent breaks in,  fortissimo: Exaudi – as if they were saying 'Enough of this airy-fairy stuff  "it is fitting that..." my Aunt Fanny! This really matters to a human soul. Among all the millions of prayers addressed to you throughout Christendom not to mention that bl**dy  'hymnus' listen out for mine.' The rather limp translation 'Hear my prayer' doesn't do justice to the word.

Then the speaker thinks better of this impertinent fortissimo interruption, and repeats Exaudi  but piano. The id then reasserts itself with the next word fortissimo: 'No I'm  not going to be quiet and reverential.' The internal dialogue between the super-ego and the id is reminiscent of Gollum's arguments with himself.  But enough of this, I really am going to get back to that article...
         <autobiographical_note>
At the funeral of a grande dame yesterday (RIP Pat, and lucky old Bob) I witnessed an underlining of the importance of this Ex-. We were in the middle of one of those interminable call-and-response prayers, with the congregation saying ‘Lord, hear our prayer‘ again and again. And The Angelus butted in. (For the uninitiated:  The Angelus is a very noisy Call-to-prayer†† – much noisier than the Islamic version: ding ding ding <pause> ding ding ding <pause> ding ding ding <pause...has it stopped?>  <oh dear me NO, suckers> DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING... [ad nauseam]).  And the congregation was bleating (that‘s one for the etymologists: grex = ‘flock‘) ‘Lord, hear our prayer‘. Here was the perfect opportunity for something more robust: ‘Listen out for my prayer‘. 
<autobiographical_note>

One of the shibboleths addressed in the article is the one about not ending a sentence with a preposition, which they trace to the rule of Latin grammar mindlessly imposed by early English grammarians. But this omits a point that is perhaps too obvious to be noticed. Look at the word 'pre-positions'; they come before things. It is simply a logical impossibility to end a sentence with a word that necessarily comes before something unless it were a 'pre-full-stop'.

But what happens when you force this rule onto English, with all its phrasal verbs? Any phrasal verb in a subordinate clause risks its particle, apparently a preposition, falling last: to use that Exaudi example, 'This is the prayer that I hope God will listen out for.'

As I said at the beginning though, the writers' hearts are in the right place. The message is right on; shame about the medium. The last point (made by Orwell‡ many years ago) is worth underlining:

There’s a simple test that usually exposes a phony rule of grammar: If it makes your English stilted and unnatural, it’s probably a fraud.
b


*In the mid '70s I was studying the idea of myth in the work of Borges, and with the self-assurance of a 23-year-old I thought myself the sole custodian of the word 'myth'. Sorry, old bean
Update 2013.01.28: Fauré made the elementary mistake of not making this a solo though it is a sweet and angelic-sounding tune sung by the sopranos. Apologies for this lapse ( he was only young!)
Update 2013.01.29: January 2013 was the occasion of several programmes about Orwell on BBC Radio 4. I expect - or have missed - the traditional trotting out of David Crystal, who never misses an opportunity to put the boot in. There are 5 mentions of Orwell in the index of The Stories of English, one of which points to a two-page salvo. I have a pretty good idea he does the same at least once in The Story of English in 100 Words. The problem is that Orwell made a mistake that offended Crystal's linguistic sensitivities.

OK, the man got it wrong. But he's wise and perceptive; lay off, Crystal you're bigger than him (in this  respect).  Orwell's article is thought-provoking, perceptive, and witty. At one point (the parody of Ecclesiastes in modern business English) it's hilarious. It should be required reading for anyone who tries to communicate in writing; it might avoid such painfully jargon-ridden, obscure, and pleonastic signs as the one I saw recently in a municipal building: 'Due to the Council's Green Practices initiative this hand-dryer is non-functional. Visitors are hereby requested to use alternative disposable paper products.'

Orwell's Ecclesiastes spoof inspired my teaching resource based on Churchill's memo to the War Cabinet. In my TESconnect description of it I say:

This handout looks at a memo written by Churchill to his wartime cabinet on the subject of plain writing. Opposite Churchill's original there is a parody breaking all the rules he mentions (and a few more). On the reverse, there is a textual analysis done by the tool available at http://www.usingenglish.com/resources/text-statistics.php, showing the quantifiable effects of using woolly language. This could be a basis for web research into writing skills.
As regrettably, but inevitably they say, enjoy!

Tales from the word-face
After the shenanigans mentioned here, I have just reinstalled HoTMeTal Pro. But bearing in mind the fears I expressed there of new software, I stopped (after installing V5,0) and didn't install the V6.0 upgrade. Let's see if it works any better...

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Update 2013.07.15: 'Tempus', as my old maths master used to say as we neared the end of another lesson, 'has fugitted'. See below for the latest.

Update 2013.07.24: Various tweaks and bits of  esprit de l'escalier.

Update 2015.01.16.10:30 – Added autobiographical note in red and updated footer.

Update 2015.01.16.16:45 – Added this note:

†† Not all believers would recognize this as a call to prayer exactly, but the name 'Angelus' is the first word of the prescribed prayer.

Update 2017.09.02.18:05 – Added PS

PS: Much of  this post,  brushed up, reordered, tweaked, and with added esprit d‘escalier here and there, appears in my forthcoming (perhaps that should be F O R T H C O M I N G – that is, don‘t hold your breath) Words and Music.

In the meantime there is this sampler (which will be free to download from time to time: follow @WandMbook on Twitter for announcements).

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Tearjerker

In a new production of The Winter's Tale (whose actress was interviewed on this morning's Woman's Hour), Falstaff's doxy/moll/squeeze/whatever is called 'Doll Tearsheet'. Well, she's always been called that, but it's /teə/ as in tare - not /tɪə/ as in 'teardrop'. When I 'did' it at school (a painfully [in at least two senses] RC one) it was the not the 'tare' sort - and the archaic tare, incidentally, was a word that we good Catholic boys were well acquainted with; we were going to be the world's wheat, not its tares.

The version of that name that we were taught was the sort redolent of wronged chastity, like Desdemona or (a heroine we studied a year later) Hermione - in The Winter's Tale. Which brings us back neatly to Woman's Hour - another interview had mentioned the 'new' trend of 'slut-shaming'. New? When accused by Leontes of infidelity, Hermione bewails her condition: 'myself on every post proclaimed a strumpet' (which, by the way, recalls that adolescent tendency I have mentioned before of latching onto a situation in culture [there it was music, here it is literature], but this is not A to Markworthy* and I shall draw a veil over the details.)

But this production calls Ms Tearsheet  /teəʃi:t/, which has a couple of possible meanings, with reference to a working-girl's life: one is the one mentioned on the radio this morning - referring to damage to bedlinen. This is quite possible, though it seems to me that wear (in both its senses - treating bed-clothes as if they were working clothes, and causing damage by, ahem, repeated movement) might have been a more apt choice. The meaning that appeals to me refers to a book of customers or invoices. She services one, and then tears off a sheet before proceeding to the next.

Enough of this. The Schedule calls.

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*The title of my once-planned (and indeed started - if three or four thousand words counts) autobiography, named after the first volume of the two-volume SOED, to be written before I was forty. I'm afraid now it would have to be called Marl to Z.

Update: 2013.10.02.16:05
Header updated:


 Mammon (When Vowels Get Together V4.0: Collection of Kindle word-lists grouping different pronunciations of vowel-pairs – AA-AU, EA-EU, and  IA-IU, and – new for V4.0 – OA-OU.  If you buy it, contact  @WVGTbook on Twitter and I'll alert you to free downloads of the forthcoming volumes; or click the Following button at the foot of this page.)
And if you have no objection to such promiscuity, Like this.

Freebies (Teaching resources: nearly 32,400 views**,  and  4,400 downloads to date. They're very eclectic - mostly EFL and MFL, but one of the most popular is from KS4 History, dating from my PGCE, with 1570 views/700 downloads to date. So it's worth having a browse.)

** This figure includes the count of views for a single resource held in an account that I accidentally created many years ago.