Excerpts from “The Dictionary of Disagreeable English”

            Okay, it’s time now for a little adult grammar lesson. (Don’t groan – this one even features a few laughs.)

  While rummaging recently through the multiple stuff on my shelves, I ran across a 2005 book by Robert Hartwell Fiske (the self-titled “Grumbling Grammarian”) that tells it like it is (although he would probably be unhappy at my using the word “like” in that clause). It’s titled The Dictionary of Disagreeable English, with the subtitle “A Curmudgeon’s Compendium of Excruciatingly Correct Grammar”.

             Here’s what John Simon (remember him – that testy ex-theatre critic of New York magazine) has to say on the subject in the book’s Forword: “No damsel was ever in such distress, no drayhorse more flogged, no defenseless child more drunkenly abused, than the English language today.” Get the picture?

             To classify the mistakes we make, Fiske uses five terms (ranging in his evaluation from bad to worse to worser, to worsest, to most worst): misspelling, confused, misused, solecistic and idiotic. The terms I focused on were the last two.

             There are hundreds of misusage examples in the book, but I’ll limit myself to just over a dozen, many of which happen to contain some quotable sarcastic remarks from Fiske aimed at those of us who dare to err in this respect.

  Check to see if you’ve been “guilty” of any of these. Keep in mind that the book was written two decades ago – things may have gotten even worse since then.  And if you can work your way through this, there’s a door prize at the end – a Fiske compendium of the 50 best and 50 worst words in the language.

            In the idiotic classification, the author’s comments are sometimes more enjoyable than the distinctions he’s drawing. Take the word awesome, for instance, which Fiske believes should be used only for inspiring awe, fear or admiration – not as a normal substitute for “excellent.” Here’s Fiske: “People who use ‘awesome’ to mean ‘excellent’ are, in fact, describing something that is, to keener minds, invariably mediocre or ridiculous.”

             Here’s another example of what he classifies as “idiotic”. Never use appreciate instead of “value” or similar words. Don’t say “I appreciate you and what you do” – use “value” instead. You can use “appreciate” in terms of an attribute (as in “I appreciate your thoughtfulness”) or occurrence (as in “I appreciate your coming”) but not in terms of a person (as in “I appreciate you”). Fair enough, but then he goes on to say: “Using ‘appreciate’ in the sense discouraged here is the mark of people who have no notion of eloquence and style, little understanding of the limits of language, and scant insight into themselves or their audience.” Take that!

            Fiske points out that some people wryly talk about schemes being hairbrained, when they should say “harebrained”. His further comment: “Harebrained means foolish, flightly, having or showing no more sense than a hare . . . But people who use ‘hairbrained’ have less sense still.”

             Although using humongous (instead of “huge” or similar words such as “gigantic” or “mammoth”) is “not quite a misusage,” says Fiske, “humongous is altogether a monstrosity. It is a hideous, ugly word. And while it’s not fair to say that people who use the word are hideous and ugly as well, at some point we come to be – or at least are known by – what we say and what we write.”

             How about those words labeled “solecistic” by Fiske? (A solecism is defined in the dictionary as a violation of the conventional usage, grammar etc. of a language.) For instance. How about enthuse instead of “excited” or a similar word? No chance –  “Enthuse,” we are told, “is a malformation capable only for misshaping whatever sentence it appears in.”

             I thought the sentence “we played as well as we could of at that stage.” was okay, but not Fiske, who says: “Because could’ve (like should’ve and would’ve) is the term many people speak, could of (should of, would of) is the term many people write. But, he tells us, it’s wrong – “could have” (should have, would have) is the correct usage.

             We use enormity instead of “enormousness,” but we shouldn’t. Enormity means monstrous, wickedness, while enormousness means very great in size, number or degree. Fiske: “Enormity is a word like no other; let us not disembowel it by using it as a synonym for enormousness, which, of course, is sated with synonyms.”

I always thought flotsam and jetsam were two of a kind, with the same meaning and forming a neat-sounding pair. Not so, says Fiske. “Flotsam is the wreckage from a ship or its cargo found at sea . . . Jetsam is cargo thrown overboard to lighten a ship in distress . . . .” Sorry, Fiske, I’m still going to couple them.

             In regards to may sound okay, but it’s wrong, and should be replaced by “in regard to”. . . . Just one little “s” of difference, to be sure, but to Fiske, it’s “an example of egregious English” – and that it “can be found in the writing and speech of some otherwise articulate people is ever startling.”

             Fiske says to never use irregardless – just “regardless” (or similar words). “Using irregardless, a nonexistent word, is the sign of a shoddy speaker, a third-rate writer, a thoughtless thinker.”

            “I just remember feeling like I was on eggshells all through the experience.” Okay? No. Instead, use “as though I were” (or “as if” in other sentences). According to Fiske, that’s “the proper expression to use when a verb in the conditional form follows. The use of “like” in these instances is uneducated.”

             Here’s a mistake I’ve been known to make – where I say my intent was to peruse an article or book quickly. According to Fiske, peruse does not mean to just look at or examine something; it means to read painstakingly, to read carefully. to read thoroughly – to read with great care, not to just glance over or to read quickly.”

             I might have said this in settlement-negotiation for a lawsuit: “I don’t really see where you have a case.” But Fiske wouldn’t have approved that use of “where” – use “that” instead. “Don’t use ‘where’ instead of ‘that’ to introduce a noun clause.”

             “It would appear that the use of . . . etc” – is no good! “It appears” is correct, says Fiske, “the ‘would’ calls into question the accuracy and knowledge of whoever uses the phrase.”

             Well, enough of that stuff for today.

             The other notable item in Fiske’s book is a listing of the “Fifty Best Words” and of the “Fifty Worst Words” in the language, as selected by the readers of The Vocabula Review (whatever that is). I’m not sure what criteria were used to make these choices, some of which I found myself agreeing with while disagreeing with others. I’ll list several of each here but I urge you to make up your own lists, which I’d enjoy hearing about. As the book says, you don’t need any well-reasoned analysis for your choices – emotional reactions to the sound or meaning of words are welcome.

             First the best words. The Vocabula readers like “mellifluous,” and I agree – it’s sweetly flowing. Likewise the word quixotic, for extravagantly chivalrous or romantic. And how about redoubtable – nifty to describe one worthy of respect, formidable.

             The best words can also convey a negative image – odious is repugnant, hateful; egregious is conspicuously bad or ridiculous; obstreperous is unruly, noisily defiant.

             But I can’t agree with some of these best word choices. Ennui, for example, meaning boredom and listlessness, which is just how I react to it; officious is meddlesome, obtrusive and that’s the  way I feel about its use; pusillanimous is  too tamed and fainthearted; and salubrious, which strives to be conducive to health or well-being, does nothing for me. And you will never hear me utter jejune, which, like its meaning, is dull, empty, childish and lacking in nutrition. 

            (By the way, in case my lovely spouse Barbara happens to read this article, please tell her I put in a good word for uxorious which translates as excessively fond of or submissive to one’s wife . . . .)

             As for the worst words, which is more fun, the worst word the Vocabula folk have come across is “liaise” and I’m right there with them. Argh! But then they went and selected “scrotum,” as “the ugliest word in the English language” – and I have to draw the line there. They also singled out penis and vagina, which “stand out as uncomfortable” due to the sound. Here’s what they say: “Think about it; “penis” and “vagina” do not rhyme with any other words in the English language, which proves that they do, indeed, sound different.” I disagree here, and not just because they’re ignoring “Venus” and “ocean liner.”

             I agree with their negative views on guesstimate (use “estimate” instead), incent, impactful, anal, closure and disrespect (even worse in the past tense, as in “she disrespected me in front of the kids.”) I’m neutral on dinghy and on paradigm (which the book finds pretentious as a new way of doing or viewing anything). I’m not sure how I come out on gobsmacked (an alternative for surprised and astonished), a word I have never deigned to use until this moment.

             But I draw the line at leverage, which is something I used to glorify in my negotiating days – and although its current notable exponent is giving the word a bad name, I’ll stick by this old faithful.