Relax: youâre probably not making as many mistakes as you think you are. So says eminent linguist Geoffrey Pullumâs breezy guide to grammar â or, at least, to his own version of it, as previously laid down in mammoth academic treatises.
Literally everything else written about English grammar in the past two centuries, you see, is âhopelessâ and a âmuddleâ. Our re-education requires some renaming of parts of speech and reshuffling of items between them, ensuring a tension between the bookâs hope to be a popular guide and the unfamiliarity of its terminology and taxonomy. Pullum even hates the term âparts of speechâ itself, insisting that they have nothing to do with speech, which is, at best, an idiosyncratic view and, at worst, an example of how it might be impossible to write about grammar without becoming a little bit crankish.
So bye-bye âconjunctionsâ; youâll have to say âcoordinatorsâ from now on; meanwhile, âawayâ, âbackâ, âhereâ, âhomeâ, ânowâ and âthereâ are reclassified as prepositions rather than adverbs. Pullum gives an argument as to why this interpretation can work, but it is just another interpretation. âHow could grammarians blunder so badly?â he moans, without wondering whether the goal of an airtight and objective taxonomy of language, free of ambiguities and exceptions, might be a pipe dream.
Readers are meanwhile reassured that thereâs nothing necessarily wrong with the passive, or the split infinitive, or the dangling participle, or adverbs. Pullum is an engaging and friendly writer, always on the side of the ordinary Joe against the nitpickers. A particular delight is how he shows that many ârulesâ beloved of self-appointed grammar constables were simply made up quite recently by irritable ink-stained wretches. Using âhopefullyâ as a modal adjunct â eg âHopefully, the king will knight David Beckhamâ, not intending to mean that the king will be brimming with optimism while waving his sword â was perfectly fine until a few 1960s New York scriveners decided it was bad.
In general, for Pullum the highest court of correctness is common usage. But he sometimes seems unaware of usages that contradict his claims: âpantsâ, he writes, is one of a few words âfound only in the pluralâ, which will disappoint devotees of the marvellous fashion singular, gladly teaming a pant with a shoe. And what about the claim that exclamative clauses âalways begin with either âhowâ or âwhatââ? So silly!