BILL GETS DRUNK
Bill gets drunk. This can happen to anyone. If Bill's subsequent attitude is: 'I got drunk; that was foolish and dangerous; I must remember how much I can take in future and not take more,' it is to be hoped that no great harm is done. But this is often not what happens at all. Bill comes home, falls over the milk bottles on the step and breaks them, kicks the cat, smacks the baby who has done nothing amiss, swears horribly at his wife, throws little John's infant-school drawing on the fire, strews some of his clothes on the landing and falls into bed with his boots on. In the morning his wife is upset. So Bill says pathetically, 'Can't a fellow have a couple of drinks now after doing a hard day's work?' 'A couple of drinks' is a self-justifying expression for perhaps ten drinks. Later, at work, Bill says something like, 'You know, my missus made no end of a fuss because I was a little merry last night.' 'Merry' sounds quite pleasant, gay, friendly; 'drunk', which is what Bill was, would be too self-condemnatory.
Un-British
'Un-British.'
Anything that I, being British, think ought not to be done in Britain. An amusing story is told of a magistrate, who must have been rather pompous. A Dutch sailor was brought before him, charged with being drunk and disorderly. In the course of the trial evidence was given that the Dutch sailor had bitten someone's ear. The magistrate rebuked him with the words, 'It is very un-British to bite people.' Perhaps he thought that in Holland it was regarded as quite usual behaviour, but the captain of the ship gently intervened: 'It is very un-Dutch, too, my lord.'
(From Marjorie Boulton: THE ANATOMY OF LANGUAGE, Kalyani Publishers, New Delhi - Ludhiana; paperback; ISBN 81-7096-355-9; 170 pages; the price of the book was only Rs. 25.00 when I bought it.)
By the same author: THE ANATOMY OF POETRY, THE ANATOMY OF PROSE, THE ANATOMY OF THE NOVEL; except the last-named, I have all the others. (Marjorie = Margie = Margaret = Eve = Sita = UIUC "Cynthia" = UIC Marian (?) etc.?!!! Oops! Ouch! Relax. Only speculation. Hypothesis. Unverified assumption. May NOT be fact. What a relief! Right?)
Kishalay Sinha [G]
LACONIC
There is an anecdote about Calvin Coolidge, who, when he was president of the USA, was often called (though probably not to his face) 'silent Cal':
A young newspaperwoman was sitting next to him at a banquet, so the story goes, and turned to him mischievously:
'Mr. Coolidge,' she said, 'I have a bet with my editor that I can get you to say more than two words to me this evening.'
'You lose', Coolidge rejoined simply.
The adjective: laconic
(From Norman Lewis: WORD POWER MADE EASY, including LATEST WORD LIST, 686 pages, plus THE ANSWERS, Goyal Publishers & Distributors, Delhi - 110007; price: Rs. 169/-)
TONE
A man can clap his male companion on the back and say: "You blankety-blank old so-and-so" and this stream of lusty profanity will please his friend. But these identical words without the gesture or a genial tone will invite a fight.
A girl can sigh and say, "What a heavenly moon," and her boy friend knows perfectly well that she's not talking about astronomy. All she wants is to be kissed.
With stress alone you can give four meanings to the sentence "I like her."
You can say, "I like her," (I don't care whether anybody else does or not), or "I like her" (emphasizing your affection), or "I like her" (but I don't think much of her sister), or "I like her?" (you're crazy!).
(From Wilfred Funk: 25 MAGIC STEPS TO WORD POWER, Goyal Publishers & Distributors, Delhi - 110007; 180 pages; price: Rs. 150/-)
Kishalay Sinha [G]
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