Counterbalance

When the Queen Says No: The Words, They Go

Lake Superior State University has released their 33rd annual List of Words Banished from the Queen's English for Misuse, Overuse and General Uselessness.  As you read through this goodness the folks at LSU would like you to remember that "Over the years, some copycat lists have made an appearance, but LSSU's list was first."  Furthermore, the folks at LSSU obviously consider themselves quite funny, as their prelude to the list of overused words includes this cliche-laden sentence: "In this spirit, LSSU presents its 2008 list, a perfect storm of overused and abused words and phrases that pops organic, to a post-9/11 world decimated by webinars."  Duly noted.

Here, then, are the words that the Queen's English says no to this year:

• Perfect Storm
• Webinar
• Waterboarding
• Organic
• Wordsmith/wordsmithing
• Author/authored
• Post 9/11
• Surge
• Give Back
• Blank
• Black Friday
• Back in the Day
• Random
• Sweet
• Decimate
• Emotional
• Pop
• It is What it Is
• Under the Bus

Some of these I understand and hear way too much myself (webinar being at the tippy top of the list in my day to day work) but others I don't get at all.  Under the bus?  I've rarely heard this used...ever. Perfect storm? Other than the book and then the horrible film that followed, I've never heard this used on a regular basis. Have you? And while I'll agree that "it is what it is" may be used too much or is perhaps a non-sequitur, I firmly believe it captures  the very essence of zen buddhism and so I reject this addition to the list. I reject it wholesale.

For some rather funny explanations and voter-provided reasons behind the selected words, go see the list and enjoy.

Ah, 2008 is off to a precarious start!

w00t's the problem

My intense irritation with the selection of w00t as Merriam-Webster's "word of the year" has been registered at LAist.

Where To Start

"...after an evening spent drinking one beer after another by the light of a huge chandelier, the man who would become my publisher contracted with me to finish the text that I had just begun to write. It was supposed to tell, not the story of my life, which was worth about as much as anybody else's, but what my life had told me and what I thought I'd decoded of its language.  And finally, a book appeared in 2001, though the year was a matter of chance, and as incredible as it seems (and it does seem incredible to me) I had completed a slow and sweeping orbit through the space of my own life story hand in hand with a tiny space probe. And for the first time I seemed to approach, in words, a sun I could call my own. And Michel Leiris had been dead eleven years at that time, which meant that it had been more than fifteen years since he'd written that 'literary activity, in its specific aspect as a mental discipline, cannot have any other justification than to illuminate certain matters for oneself at the same time as one makes them communicable to others, and that one of the highest goals...is to restore by means of words certain intense states, concretely experienced and become significant, to be thus put into words.'  Which was where, it seemed to me, everyone had to start."

                from The Mystery Guest by Grégoire Bouillier

Elif Shafak's Love of Language

I've been slammed. That's the only thing I can say in response to my cold blog silence these past few days. Work + wedding + sick + writing + two writing classes + nine million other things = no blog love.

But. So.

I was driving to Trader Joe's last night (yes, we still have to drive even though we live downtown because there are no services yet downtown for those of us who live here...all in good time) and heard an interview with Turkish author Elif Shafak on NPR. In light of recent events (the death of Hrant Dink and the recent trials of Turkish writers such as Orhan Pamuk), most coverage of Shafak has centered around her recent acquittal after being taken to trial for "insulting Turkishness" in her latest book, The Bastard of Istanbul.  I expected her time on NPR to be focused on these recent events. Instead, I was delighted to hear Shafak pointedly talk of other things.  Of her passion for words. Of her insatiable interest in other languages. What they allow her to express and not. I got the distinct feeling that despite the recent events in Turkey, Shafak wanted to bring the conversation back to words, to language, to the very reasons she has gotten to this point. A few things that are still with me this morning:

• She spoke of the Islam she learned from her father's mother. An angry Allah who was writing down your sins in a big book. She then contrasted that with the Islam she learned from her mother's mother. An Allah that could be bargained with, that was mystical, that was fluid. She then applied this comparison to language and how it can either be a political thing that is feared and must always be guarded, or it can be something that is a fluid mystery, that you live within and negotiate daily based on your feelings, your experiences, the ideas you need to express at a moment in time.
• She talked about her use of "old" sufi words and other "Islamic words" in her Turkish writings -- something she has been widely criticized for by those in her own country.  Over many generations, Turkish writings slowly did away with all politically charged words, all references to the past. An intentional amputation of the language. Cut off the parts that upset you and keep going. In Shafak's view, this led to a narrowing of the language. To demonstrate her point, she talked about the words for colors. That there are no nuances...no shades...between red and yellow. They now have only the word "red" and the word "yellow" - nothing in between.  All the nuances, the shades, are older words that have been removed by generations of writers, thinkers and speakers that wanted to shed their past. Shafak believes that this reduction in language equals a reduction in thought, in creativity in imagination. When you limit your words, you limit what can be said. What can be thought. Such a powerful idea, no?  Haunting when you think of this systematic reduction of words, ergo thought, over time.
• As a reaction to this narrowing, she has dedicated her life to the study of those lost words. To bringing her Turkish vocabulary back to its fullest, most robust iteration. Her passion for words and her desire to rediscover them and reintroduce them is delicious. Gorgeous, really.
• Shafak also spoke of the freedom she finds in speaking other languages. That learning other languages -- their word systems, their capacity for irony, for self-reflection or not -- is like putting on another identity. That within the system of another language, you can express yourself in a way that is not possible in your mother tongue. Or in yet another tongue. To illustrate her point, she said that it is unacceptable for women in her country to swear in Turkish. Yet, these same women can swear in English without any fear of recrimination. They find a freedom to express themselves in English that is not available to them in Turkish.
• I have always believed there was freedom in language, but it's been awhile since I've had such a powerful, concrete example of it. Listening to Shafak speak of these things in her own beautiful patchwork of words from past, present and future was delicious. She has reminded me of the power of words and language. Most importantly, she has strengthened my belief in the awesome power of writing.

Simply cannot wait to read her book. Do have a listen...