Taped to my monitor is a slip of paper with a quotation attributed to Winston Churchill:

 

“Ending a sentence with a preposition

is something up with which I will not put.”

 

There are several different versions of that quote – one with the word ‘something’ replaced by ‘bloody nonsense’ and another using ‘errant pedantry‘.  It’s questionable whether Churchill ever wrote any variation of such words in response to an editor’s amendment; but, no matter its origin, the sentiment always makes me smile.  It also incites me to shamelessly end sentences in a manner I’m not supposed to.

 

Over the years, I’ve cruelly mutilated countless innocent sentences in an attempt to avoid breaking that odious grammar commandment “Thou shalt not end a sentence with a preposition”.  I confess errant pedantry is bloody nonsense I have been guilty of.  No more, I say!  Honestly, I’d much rather write like Jane Austen.

 

“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”

According to Professor Kathryn Sutherland,

“… in Austen’s case, we discover a powerful counter-grammatical way of writing. She broke most of the rules for writing good English.”

 

Oh, yes, if I can but happily settle into a powerful counter-grammatical way of writing, I shall have nothing for which to wish for.

 

Several years ago, a tongue-in-cheek set of rules for writing good English made its way around the internet.  Since you’re probably already familiar with most of those tips, let’s just review a few here … particularly the ones I take delight in ignoring.

 

GRAMMAR RULES!

 

Always avoid annoying alliteration.

If you avidly agree, I ardently advocate avoidance of Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge.

 

Never use a big word when a diminutive one will do.

While composing narration (from Mr. Darcy’s point of view) for A Little Whimsical in His Civilities, I investigated excessively for utterances containing interminable syllables.

 

Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.“

Let’s see.  So far in this blog post I’ve quoted Churchill, Austen, Sutherland, and Emerson.

 

Eradicate excessive exclamation marks!!!

Oh!  I simply must quote Austen again!

 

“Good gracious!  Lord bless me!  only think!  dear me!  Mr. Darcy!  Who would have thought it!  And is it really true?  Oh my sweetest Lizzy!  how rich and how great you will be!  What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have!  Jane’s is nothing to it – nothing at all.  I am so pleased – so happy.  Such a charming man! – so handsome! so tall! – Oh, my dear Lizzy! …”

 

(It is a truth universally acknowledged that excuses and exceptions can be made for an excess of exclamation marks when executing Mrs. Bennet’s effusions.)

 

And don’t start a sentence with a conjunction.

But, but  … Austen did!  And I quote:

 

“And his behaviour, so strikingly altered – what could it mean?”

 

When dangling, watch your participles.

Misplacing one’s modifiers and dangling one’s participles can be rather entertaining.

For example:

Lydia danced with Mr. Wickham wearing her sprigged muslin gown.

Daintily prancing, Colonel Fitzwilliam brought his horse to a halt.

Mr. Darcy left Hunsford smouldering and fuming.

 

Puns are for children, not groan readers.

Well, obviously, I should be severely punished!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Stop right there, ma’am!”

 

Who are you?

“I am an officer of the Grammar Police Force, and I am here to serve and correct.”

 

Oh, golly, the Grammar Police Force!  Well, metaphors be with you, officer.  Look, I realize I’m guilty of breaking a few little ol’ rules of English grammar.  And, come to think of it, I am also guilty of the indirect boast – for I am quite aware of my defects in writing. But will it be necessary to sentence me?

 

“J. Marie Croft, as you know, puns are the lowest form of humour; and your lack of good grammar makes me [sic].  I’ve read some of your Austen-inspired work.  You have repeatedly committed the crime of playing with words.  In addition, you do not always abide by rules of syntax, morphology, phonology and semantics.”

 

The rules of wha … huh?  Sin tax?  Am I to pay a fine for my transgressions?

 

“Ma’am, I begin to seriously wonder whether you even know the Queen’s English.”

 

Well, duh.  Of course, I know she is!  I mean, really, what kind of nitwit do you take me for?

 

“Speaking of taking you, come with me, ma’am.  Amongst other things, we’ll discuss what you’re guilty of.”

 

Good heavens, officer, I do believe you just prepositioned me!!!

Please leave a comment.

And feel free to dangle your participles!