Thursday, 27 November 2014

Good Words and Bad.

So now I’m becoming acquainted with Lolita – whose real name is Dolores, by the way, Lo for short. I said I would reserve judgements until further down the line, and so I will, but I should note that I continue to luxuriate in Mr Nabokov’s use of English. Let me offer a couple of examples.

M Humbert is in New York City and working reluctantly in the advertising industry. His complaints include:

…how repulsed I was by the glitter of deodorized career girls…

Such economy of description grown to greatness of expression. (And how like me, I might add with apology.)

He escapes the ad industry and takes a position with an Arctic survey:

I had little notion what object the expedition was pursuing. Judging by the number of meteorologists upon it, we may have been tracking to its lair (somewhere on Prince of Wales’ Island, I understand) the wandering and wobbly north magnetic pole. One group, jointly with the Canadians, established a weather station on Pierre Point in Melville Sound. Another group, equally misguided, collected plankton. A third studied tuberculosis in the tundra. Bert, a film photographer – an insecure fellow with whom at one time I was made to partake in a good deal of menial work (he, too, had some psychic troubles) – maintained that the big men on our team, the real leaders we never saw, were mainly engaged in checking the influence of climatic amelioration on the coats of the arctic fox.

Such restrained cynicism towards the academic process raises a rare smile. More than that, such words I could chew and chew like a plug of favourite tobacco.

By contrast, I followed tonight’s episode of Lolita with a rare viewing of a TV programme on BBC4. It was a documentary on the Hundred Years War between England and France.

Now, it is widely recognised that one of the chief markers of maladroit writing is the impulse to add weight to a statement by using two words or phrases that are effectively, or actually, synonymous. Hence we had the narrator blessing our sensitive ears with:

… they emerged profoundly changed and very different.

What on earth has happened to the BBC? Such words remind me of that little piece of eggshell which your tongue strokes and your teeth crunch whilst eating an otherwise properly soft egg and cress sandwich.

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