The early authors of a tongue have in their minds no thought of possible censure from any linguistic critic. Every one does what is right in his own eyes, restricted, so far as he is restrained, only by that sense of propriety which genius possesses as its birthright and great talents frequently acquire. But in later times, when grammars and manuals of usage have come to abound, there is frequent consultation of them, or, rather, a constant dread of violating rules which they have promulgated. Such a method of proceeding is not conducive to the best results in the matter of expression. When men think not so much of what they want to say as of how they are going to say it, what they write is farily certain to lose something of the freshness which springs from unconsciousness. No one can be expected to speak with ease when before his mind looms constantly the prospect of possible criticism of the words and constructions he has employed. If grammar, or what he considers grammar, prevents him from resorting to usages to which he has no objection, it has in one way been harmful if in another way it has been helpful. Correctness may have been secured, but spontaneity is gone. The rules laid down for the writer's guidance may be desirable, but they are likewise depressing. He thinks of himself as under the charge of a paternal government, and he is not happy; for our race, in its linguistic as well as in its political activity, bears with impatience the sense of feeling itself governed.

Such a result would be sure to follow, were grammars and manuals of usage absoultely trustworthy. But no such statement can be made of most of them, if, indeed, of any. It is an unfortunate fact that since the middle of the eighteenth century, when works of this nature first began to be much in evidence and to exert distinct influence, far the larger proportion of them have been produced by men who had little acquaintance with the practice of the best writers and even less with the history and development of grammatical forms and constructions. Their lack of this knowledge led them frequently to put in its place assertions based not upon what usage really is, but upon what in their opinion it ought to be. They evolved or adopted artifical rules for the government of expression. By these they tested the correctness of whatever was written. They were therefore enabled to proclaim their own superiority to the greatest authors of our speech by pointing out the numerous violations of their assumed propriety into which these had been unhappily betrayed. As the rules they proclaimed were copied and repeated by others, a fictious standard of usage was set up in numerous instances and is largely responsible for many of the current misconceptions which now prevail as to what is grammatical.

It is the belief in this fictitious standard which is responsible not merely for numerous misstatements about the correctness of particular phrases and constructions, but for the frequent failure to comprehend the nature of prevailing linguistic conditions. One of the latter requires special mention here. It is no infrequent remark that in these later days there exists a distinct tendency towards lawlessness in usage, a distinct indisposition to defer to authority. We are told that the language of the man in the street is held up as the all-sufficient standard. If this statement was ever true, it was never less true than now. There might have been apparent justification for an assertion of this sort to have been recognized outside of the taste or knowledge of the writer. As a consequence, the loosest language of conversation was reproduced with fidelity in the speech of drama, then the principle national literature. But nothing of this freedom is found now. A constant supervision over speech is exercised by amateur champions of propriety. These are esconced at every fireside. In colleges and academies and high schools they constitute an army of assumed experts, who are regularly engaged in holding in check any attempt to indulge in real and supposed lawlessness.

It is not, therefore, from the quarter of license that any danger to our speech arises. If peril exist at all, it comes from the ignorant formalism and affected precision which wage perpetual war with the ancient idioms of our tongue, or array themselves in hostility to its natural development. That this, so far as it is effective, is a positive injury to the language was pointed out several years ago by a scholar who, in consequence of the study he had given to the usage of great writers, was enabled to speak on this subject with an authority to which few have attained. He was discussing the remarks of certain critics who had professed to consider as inaccurate and ungrammatical the preterite wended in the locution, "he wended his way." "It is by such lessons as these," he continued, "that the unreflecting and uninquiring are misled into eschewing, as if they were wrong, words and phrases that are perfectly right." If there is any revolt against the authority of such guides, equally blind and presumptuous, if there is any lack of deference to the rules they seek to impose, it is a condition of things to be welcomed and not to be deplored.

[Thomas R. Lounsbury (emeritus professor of English in Yale University). 1908. The Standards of Usage in English, pp.81-6.]

quote:

But in later times, when grammars and manuals of usage have come to abound, there is frequent consultation of them, or, rather, a constant dread of violating rules which they have promulgated. Such a method of proceeding is not conducive to the best results in the matter of expression. When men think not so much of what they want to say as of how they are going to say it, what they write is farily certain to lose something of the freshness which springs from unconsciousness. No one can be expected to speak with ease when before his mind looms constantly the prospect of possible criticism of the words and constructions he has employed.

I absolutely agree with that. We have gone too far with grammar rules, though I do think we're beginning to see some changes. There is a difference between cookbook writing and writing for clarity. Grammatical rules are supposed to allow for the latter, but instead the rules often just make all writing look the same.

I suggest the grammatical "rules" fall into the same category as laws, as defined by Solon, who said, "laws are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men".

A good knowledge of rules, and laws, is important to both classes. Those of us who consider ourselves to be reasonably knowledgeable about the rules of grammar, are better able to judge when it is appropriate to disregard them, than are those without such knowledge.

Except when the laws are just plain wrong, and then it is our duty to oppose them and see that they are rescinded.

We have a committee in that is going through our papers. One of the not-so-impressive members loves to wordsmith. The worst of it is, often she is wrong! But she lords it over everyone that this must be changed, that must be changed, etc. That's what I hate about grammar mavens...the idea that they are right and you are wrong, even though the grammar rules are never that black and white.

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But she lords it over everyone that this must be changed, that must be changed, etc.

There is a way of dealing with this kind of person which few people know, although those who attend my training courses learn it and now, so will those who read this board.

It is simply to use the "power of the question". Questions give control and can be used very effectively to deal with those who pontificate in an authoritive and inaccurate manner. For example, when Ms Maven says, "...This is wrong. You mustn't start a sentence with a conjunction/end a sentence with a preposition/split an infinitive..." you simply say, "...Why not...?

Then Ms Maven will say, "...Because it's ungrammatical/wrong/not allowed..." and you then hit back with another question and ask, "...Where is the authority that says that it's wrong...?

To which she will reply, "...It's a well-known fact that you can't split an infinitive, etc., etc..." And you then respond, "...Well, it's certainly not what I learnt, can you tell me where this rule is laid down...?"

And if she then gives you another spurious reason, come back with another question until, quite soon, Ms Maven will be wishing she'd never started the argument and will start casting around for ways to escape your questioning. So you might then offer an olive branch by saying, "...Well, how about if we leave it as it is for the moment and, when you find the authority that says that it's wrong/ungrammatical/not allowed, then we'll easily be able to change it..."

I know, I know, it's unkind but sometimes you just have to teach people a lesson!

Thanks, Richard, I will use it. I have since found that everyone else was irritated with her, too.

You'll find it works like a charm - but beware, it is a very powerful technique and you need to be chary about using it on your superiors as they have the power to take revenge later, in some way or other.

But on your peers - no problem - though you'll not make friends with them ;-(

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Originally posted by Richard English:
... you need to be chary about using it on your superiors as they have the power to take revenge later, in some way or other.(

Chary is a word I'm not familiar with, though the context makes it pretty clear. I would use the word wary, or perhaps leery.

Tinman

There are slight shade of difference.

Chary means "Characterized by great caution and wariness"

Wary has two meanings: "Marked by keen caution and watchful prudence" and "Openly distrustful and unwilling to confide"

Leery means "Openly distrustful and unwilling to confide"

Chary and the first meaning of wary are close to being synonyms but chary, to my mind, has the greater strength. Furthermore, leery, and the second meaning of chary have also the sense of open mistrust which would probably not be appropriate in this context.

Gilbert and Sullivan, on chary and wary:
Iolanthe is in red, and the Chancellor is in blue.

Oh! Chancellor unwary
It's highly necessary
Your tongue to teach
Respectful speech--
Your attitude to vary!
Your badinage so airy,
Your manner arbitrary,
Are out of place
When face to face
With an influential Fairy.

A plague on this vagary,
I'm in a nice quandary!
Of hasty tone
With dames unknown
I ought to be more chary;
It seems that she's a fairy
From Andersen's library,
And I took her for
The proprietor
Of a Ladies' Seminary!