David Woods
is a Philadelphia writer
When the body of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar is brought before the Romans, does the bard have them say, "Who dunnit?" No, he has Mark Antony deliver the eloquent "Friends, Romans, Countrymen" speech.
And the Roman poet Horace showed his lyrical skill with: "Pick today's fruits, not relying on the future in the slightest." Carpe Diem. He did not, you will note, say, "Have a nice day."
In both cases, the writers knew a simple truth: that language matters. It's something that seems lost in today's culture.
Allan Bloom, author of The Closing of the American Mind, thinks part of the problem is that students have lost the practice of reading; they want to be thought "authentic," and that means having few cultural pretensions. Thus, they refuse to make what they see as "hypocritical ritual bows to high culture."
Bloom blames their attitude in part on schools that have failed to persuade students to read - let alone to like it. And this leads not only to loss of precision and color in language, but also to a defensive posture that language doesn't matter.
Imprecise language occurs when people don't think first about exactly what it is they want to say. Either that, or they are attempting to paper over their lack of vocabulary by such excrescences as the prevalent and ubiquitous "like" - as in, "I'm not - like - into reading."
The vocabulary-challenged are not the only ones who can be imprecise. Scientists often sprinkle their language with jargon in trying to show that they're doing something important. And politicians - who should be masters of oratory - contribute to the decline of eloquence as well.
But problems abound. Think about "going forward," for example, a greatly overused phrase that should surely be stopped in its tracks. Or "at the end of the day," which might usefully be dispatched well before dusk. I heard another linguistic villain - "if you will" - from a speaker at least 10 times at a recent conference, leaving me decidedly intestate.
George Orwell, whose prose was eloquently clear and direct, believed that the great enemy of clear language is insincerity. He suggested that much political language consists of euphemism and hedging. He gives a wonderful example of the decline of eloquence, starting by quoting the well-known verse from Ecclesiastes:
