Monday, May 25, 2009

Can Something Blatantly Flagrant?

I recently received a question from Geneva on an old post about commonly-confused words asking me to clarify the difference between the words blatant and flagrant. The two words share a similar sense of the obvious, but are used to convey different senses. Consider this sentence (which I'd avoid in a real writing situation, as it's redundant and stilted):

Such a flagrant act show blatant disregard for established procedures.
The word flagrant implies contempt rather than a simple lack of guile. While I may commit a blatant violation, it's possible that I am simply uncouth and thus unaware of the rules that I am breaking. If you label my transgression as flagrant, however, you mean that I not only broke that rule in an obvious way but that I did so because I either don't care about rules in general or that I purposely set out to break a particular rule that I find, for whatever reason, objectionable.

Blatant generally indicates an obvious act committed without taste or discretion. Flagrant, on the other hand, adds a taste of disdain to that same act, and perhaps a bit of flair. The difference between the two words lies in their implications. Thus, something could be blatantly flagrant, although your readers may blatantly turn away from your flagrant unwillingness to write well.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Word Tidbits: Uncouth

Some words fall out of favor and become archaic simply because they make you sound uncouth. Couth is not one such word. No one uses couth, regardless of how those around them act. When you compliment someone on how couth they behave, it sounds as though you are so socially backward as the be uncouth.

That's because couth never attained “word” status. The Old English word “cuth”, which meant known or familiar, spawned the now-defunct use of uncouth as uncommon or uncanny, essentially unknown. The word has grown to mean clumsy, unpolished, and crude of manner. It now indicates a person to whom social graces and civilized behavior are unknown. Spammers show just how uncouth they've become when they post unrelated links on every site they visit.

The next time you're tempted to tell someone how couth they're behaving, do yourself a favor and use “cool” instead. To do otherwise would be uncouth. On that note, I'd like to apologize to you, my dear readers, for my uncouth lack of posts this past month. I've been neglecting you for the glitzy world of music blogging, which I find inexcusable. I promise another one for next week, a “versus” post requested by one of you lovely folks.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Word Tidbits: Ruthless

When writing descriptions of an evil foe, terms like tireless, relentless, fearless, and ruthless come to mind. Of those, most are easily defined. The -less suffix indicates that the noun so described lacks the root word, as a tireless leader does not tire and a fearless enemy attacks without fear. What, however, is a ruthless tirant without?

The word ruthless comes to us not from the name Ruth but from the twelfth-century word “reuwen”, a verb meaning “to rue” or regret. Over the next couple of centuries, it grew into “reuthe”, a word for pity or compassion, much as the adjective “true” grew “truth” as a noun.

Reuwen has fallen out of use, as has reuthe or ruth as a word for mercy. Ruthless, however, turned out to be such a striking and useful word that its use has continued for another seven or eight hundred years. If case you wonder, ruthful was used for many years to indicate a kind and benignant individual. Apparently, such folks have become nigh impossible to find and the word dropped from language radar in the eighteenth century except when a writer or speaker intentionally meant to use an archaic word.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Fargo Flood Highlights Evacuee versus Refugee

As have many Americans, I've listened to a great deal of flood talk, these last two weeks, including orders and the discussion of requests that residents evacuate endangered areas. At one point, a Fargo official referred to those forced to leave their homes as “refugees”. This sparked an immediate objection from others, who quickly agreed that Fargoans seeking shelter were, instead, evacuees. What, you ask, is the difference?

Linguistically, there exists very little to differentiate between the terms. Per Merriam-Webster, refugee refers to “one that flees ; especially : a person who flees to a foreign country or power to escape danger or persecution” while an evacuee is one who “withdraw[s] from a place in an organized way especially for protection”.

The difference lies in the sense of two key words in these definitions. When one flees, whether from a force of nature or a ruthless dictator, such action implies a lack of control or power. Withdrawal, on the other hand, generally arises as a matter of choice, rooted in safety though it may be.

While the meanings may differ very little, the emotional impact of the words on those to whom they are applied can be great. Thus, Fargo and Moorhead residents who left their homes, and an orderly and protective choice it was, did not flee from the rising Red River, nor did they abandon the fight to keep the water from their homes. They withdrew those who could not help themselves and returned to help their friends and neighbors protect what they love. Evacuees they may be, but do not call them refugees.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

A Brief Consideration of Mood

As I recently mentioned, it's high time we thought about mood and writing. Most resources recognize four basic moods: indicative, imperative, infinitive, and subjunctive. This post will offer an overview of each mood. The first two on that list won't need much explanation, but I'll do a separate post for each of the others, so if you don't find an answer to your questions here please be patient. In fact, share your questions with me and I'll make sure that I answer them in up-coming posts.

Indicative Mood

As its name implies, you use this straight-forward mood to indicate direct statements and questions to your readers. Thus, the indicative mood comprises the majority of communication, both written and spoken. Verb forms remain true to their names and what you've written can be taken at face value.

Imperative Mood

Delivering an imperative requires, surprisingly enough, the imperative mood. In essence, you use this mood when giving a commend or making a request for action. In many cases, the imperative mood leads to what appear to be sentence fragments, as the subject is often understood rather than stated. Don't make that mistake!

Infinitive Mood

The topic of infinitives covers a lot of ground, but you create the mood by using an infinitive (the “to” form of a verb) as other parts of speech than verbs, at least as I understand things at this point. “To believe is the most important consideration.” In this example, the act of believing does not occur. “To believe” acts as the subject of the sentence, thus putting it into the infinitive mood, which somehow sounds a bit dirty.

Subjunctive Mood

The subjunctive allows you to express a wish, to make a suggestion, or to otherwise address something that you know not to be the case, although it may well be a possible future or outcome. You clue your audience in on the fact that you're doing so by shifting the verb to a different form. Clearly this can lead to confusion in editing for tense agreement, and that requires more explanation. I'll return here and add a link to my next post when it's been completed.