A reader has taken me to that always-unpleasant location, Task, over the appearance in yesterday’s diary of the term “iconic”: this in apparent contravention of my recently-announced, unilateral ban on the most overused adjective in the English language.
But if the reader looks more closely, he will find that it was not I who used the word, which occurred during the course of a quotation. And as I’ve explained here before, quoted speech enjoys the same status in a newspaper that a foreign embassy does in its host country. It is, in effect, sovereign territory, over which the newspaper’s authorities have no jurisdiction.
Yes, if one has reason to believe that there are activities going on within the quotation marks that are inimical to the culture or religious beliefs of the host column, of course one can have words with the quoted party and suggest that the offending terms be expelled, or quietly asked to leave.
In this case, however, I decided the adjective was justified in its context (to describe a 19th-century Venetian statue), and that there was no point jeopardising diplomatic relations with the rest of the paragraph by insisting on the word’s removal.
After all, it was not the author’s fault that the term has become the linguistic equivalent of the kudzu vine, attaching itself to everything from the pint of Guinness to the butcher’s dog, and squeezing out all the other adjectives, such as “distinctive” or “famous”, that would once have sprung up in its place.
The main point is it wasn’t used by me. Readers can rest assured that my fatwa against the I-word remains and that, except in quoted speech, it will continue to be excluded from this column, remorselessly and without exception, until I forget.
UNFORTUNATELY, the defence of diplomatic privilege does not apply in the case of another linguistic misdemeanour for which I have been indicted: namely a recent sentence in which I referred to the possibility of taking money “off” the bookies.
On which subject, Vanessa Pearse writes to say: “When I was growing up, if I ever said that I took money or sweets ‘off’ someone, I was quickly asked by my mother or father or grandfather whether that someone was wearing the said money or sweets. I was quickly informed [. . .] that if they were not wearing the money or sweets, then I had taken whatever it was ‘from’ not ‘off’ them.”
Vanessa notes from newspaper reports an increasing incidence of individuals and organisations taking money “off” each other. And she concludes: “My question is this: have people in these straightened times taken to wearing money or has it become acceptable English to say that you have taken money ‘off’ someone when in point of fact they were not wearing it? I would appreciate your clarification . . .” Well, regarding the first half of that question, the answer appears to be Yes. As our picture – one of a number available on the internet – shows, some people have indeed taken to wearing money. The woman featured is modelling £100,000, apparently; although on closer inspection, she is not so much an example of the public’s loss of confidence in banking as part of a promotion for the British Lottery.
To the second part of Vanessa’s question, the answer is No: correct usage has not changed. I’m happy to clarify that the example pictured remains the only sense in which one might legitimately take money off somebody (although, needless to say, not before asking her permission).
OF COURSE, even now, the grammar police will be cordoning off that phrase “straightened times” in Vanessa’s question and examining it for finger-prints to see if the mistake was hers or mine. In fact, I can shorten their investigation by revealing that I quoted it as written. And I did so because it was for something similar that I have been taken, task-wards, by yet another reader.
To wit, in yesterday’s diary, I suggested that the 1940s were “straight-laced”. My intended meaning was that they were socially conservative. And the word “straight” appears to have a certain logic in that regard. But logic and English are not always bedfellows. As I now know, it should have been “strait-laced”, a term dating from the 15th century and referring originally to a very restrictive type of corset.
As for the times Vanessa referred to, for similar reasons, they too should be "straitened" without the "gh". That said, there may be exceptions. In fact, one was illustrated to me just the other day, when I was sitting in a cafe and a man asked to borrow my newspaper. Fair enough, I thought: maybe his finances were straitened. So I handed the paper over But his first faux pas was in not returning it before, half an hour later, I had to ask him. And his second was that, by that time, he was using it as a table-cloth. Worst of all, he then refolded it hastily with no respect for its original creases. So to cut a long story short, I did indeed have to straighten my Times. And I hate that.