Tag Archives: Books

A Year in Books/Day 227: Swearing

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  • Title: Swearing A Social History of Foul Language, Oaths and Profanity in English
  • Author: Geoffrey Hughes
  • Year Published: 1991/This Edition: 1998 (Penguin Books)
  • Year Purchased: 2003/2004
  • Source: A bookstore in Buffalo
  • About: A book about swearing sounds titillating, eh? Actually, the word titillating sounds titillating, but that’s another train of thought. If you think that this book is just an excuse by the author to use words like piss and fuck with impunity, like some naughty school-boy, you’re wrong. (You didn’t really think that, did you?) Swearing by Geoffrey Hughes is one of the many books that make up a larger-than-you’d-expect canon on the subject of the history of impolite language. This late 20th century work is one in a long line of books that date back hundreds of years. It’s a fairly sedate entry, but it offers a fascinatingly detailed history of the origins and subsequent variations of bad words in English. You don’t have to be word mad to be entertained by the fluid nature of profanity. It makes for seriously fun reading, even if the scholarly tone isn’t your normal cup of tea. The best part of the book revolves around religious oaths and how they have become bastardized (ahem) and watered down over the centuries. If you come across this book, it’s worth taking a gamble on; the worst thing that can happen is that you will have a more measured understanding of the words and phrases you use, and a richer vocabulary to inflict on the people around you.
  • Motivation: Words. I love them, in all of their magical, maddening, changing variety. I like to get to the bottom of why things are as they are, and discover, if at all possible, how or what they once were.
  • Times Read: 1
  • Random Excerpt/Page 22: “It might be useful to bring into play at this point two observations which raise swearing above the prosaic. G.K. Chesterton commented that ‘The one stream of poetry which is constantly flowing is slang.’ (From The Defendant 1901, cited in Partridge’s Slang (1960), p. 24). Louis MacNeice comes closer to our themes in his poem ‘Conversation’, 1929. ‘Ordinary men, ‘ he writes, ‘Put up a barrage of common sense to baulk Intimacy, but by mistake interpolate Swear-words like roses in their talk.'”
  • Happiness Scale: 9

Pleasures Are Like Poppies Spread*: Counting Down to Our Burns Night Supper

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This year, Burns Day/Night falls on a Friday. Every 25th January, The Chef and I host a big, crazy, slightly debauched, energetic, delicious Burns Supper. We live to entertain but are often impeded by our schedules, so when we throw down we do it in a big way. This event is the star of our calendar, and friends old and new come from near and far to enjoy the night with us. Who doesn’t enjoy a literary-themed shindig, one bursting with amazing food, Scotch, poetry, a toasting contest, music, laughter, conversation, spiffy ladies, and gents in kilts?

Since this party is book-related, I thought I would share with you some of the preparations that go into celebrating one of my favourite nights of the year, as well as the result. Does that sound like fun, or a great bore? I’m doing it either way, so I hope you will take a chance and join me on this raucous ride!

* “But pleasures are like poppies spread,/You seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed;/Or like the snow falls in the river,/A moment white-then melts forever;”-Robert Burns, Tam o’ Shanter

The man who inspires one helluva celebration.

The man who inspires one helluva celebration.

A Year in Books/Day 226: The Decline of Sentiment

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  • Title: The Decline of Sentiment American Film in the 1920s
  • Author: Lea Jacobs
  • Year Published: 2008 (University of California Press)
  • Year Purchased: 2011
  • Source: Half Price Books
  • About: I like film criticism that comes with a healthy side of broader cultural and intellectual analysis. It is, admittedly, how I approach the subject, and view the world in general. Before proceeding, know that this review comes with a Warning. Lea Jacobs’ writing is from the crumbling cracker school: dry and without any excess flavour. If you cannot reconcile yourself to the mere thought of reading 313 pages of humourless but acutely insightful commentary, or this review about it, then move on with your bad self. No, really. I won’t be offended. As long as you promise to come back for #227. We’re still cool, right? For the 3 of you left, where were we? Ah, yes. Her writing. If you’re passionate or curious about silent cinema, The Decline of Sentiment is worth your time. Your head will eventually fall into rhythm with her writing style, and by the end of the book you will have a more comprehensive view of the subject even if, like me, you have studied and written about it for years. Continue reading →