Ironic, I suppose, that I'm attempting brevity in the service of defending floral speech, but needs must.
No one wants to hear me wang on, after all.
This has been a recurrent theme of my life. I make no great claims for my intellect, and my exam results would bear that out, but I've always had a fondness for words, which comes out when I write, sometimes when I speak, and it's often been regarded with suspicion. I suspect it's one of the things about me that winds a lot of people up.
As with so many insecurities and minor worries, it started at school; I remember sitting SATs in yr 7, and being marked down for using the word "ululation" which, according to my teachers, didn't exist, but which anyone with access to a copy of Chambers would know means a hiring or screeching sound. The same thing happened at A-level (!) when a teacher regarded me with deep suspicion over the word "verderer" (basically a medieval park ranger). In my professional life, a colleague once delivered a crushing assessment of my character and personality because I'd used the word "vertiginous" (come on, you know what that means) in an email. I was a prick for using it, essentially. This piece is inspired largely by my son, who has taken the huff with me for a construction I used in a staff WhatsApp. I'm not going to say what I said, because I don't want to embarrass him, I'm pretty sure most of you would know what I meant.
On to University, and I was taught the value of keeping it simple, creative writing tutors slashed through adverbs and adjectives. Clean lines ruled, prose fans extolled Raymond Carver, I learned the poetic maxim of Basil Bunting: " fear adjectives, they bleed nouns". Getting a bit too wordy was bad writing. Fair enough, I took note and reined it in, at least when writing creatively. In the day-to-day, however, I kept talking they way I always had.
I genuinely don't think anything of it, normally, but over the years I've been accused of egotism, of trying to make myself look clever, of trying to make other people look stupid (which they're generally perfectly capable of doing themselves, in my experience) and any number of other heinous character flaws. Now, these may well be things of which I can reasonably be accused for other reasons, I can certainly be a bit of a fractious, thin-skinned knobhead at times. But, and this is the crucial point, it's not deliberate. In the words of Ange Postecoglou: "it's who we are, mate".
I would argue the opposite to most of the accusations levelled at my character purely on the basis of an occasional tendency towards four words where one will do. I would argue that by not changing the way I use language I am being welcoming, I am tacitly saying "I expect you to understand this". I am, crucially and explicitly, not talking down to people, very much the opposite. I am expecting them to meet me on my level, because I don't think there's anything particularly special about my level, such as it is.
I am also acutely aware that you may well be reading this and thinking "this bloke fancies himself a bit, he hasn't said anything particularly clever or difficult so far" and you would be right, at least to the second part, my therapist would argue that not being the first but is the root cause of the second, if I had one. Yes, correct, there isn't anything particularly clever in here, that's my point. Yet I still get odd looks and the odd insult, just for who I am. *Cough* "living my truth" *vomits*. I love words, I love using them.
I know, I know,woe is me, have an invite to the pity party, all of that. But really, I'm not after sympathy here, more explaining my position, because if I want to use the word "outwith" or "abnegate" I will. Not because I think I'm better than anyone, but because I assume they're better than me.
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