The collective noun is one of the great favourites of quiz-masters everywhere. Having exhausted all the other staples of the genre - US state capitals, famous last words, the name of Don Quixote's horse, etc - the typical question-setter will frequently resort to asking which word is used to describe, say, "a group of foxes". Then he will sit back (and it always is a he) looking smug, as you and your team-mates scratch heads and assume pained expressions, writes Frank McNally
My advice on these occasions, if you don't know the correct answer (ie. a "skulk") is to make one up. Then, depending on how close the quiz is and how much money is riding on the result, you can contest the marker's failure to award you the point, quoting plausible references, where possible.
A good tip is to argue that while "skulk" has gained some local currency in northern England and parts of Scotland, a "conspiracy" of foxes is the term preferred in the oldest known text on the subject, the 15th-century Book of St Albans. If you sound confident enough, you will often prevail.
The point is that, contrary to what quiz-masters would have you believe, collective nouns do not have legal standing. Nor are they even listed for preservation, like historic buildings. They just happen to be descriptions that some people thought up - the compilers of the 15th century Book of St Albans being among the most influential - and made popular at a time when the English vocabulary was narrower than it has become. Nowadays we would call them clichés.
It's true that some are particularly poetic and, especially on the subject of birds, apt. An "exaltation" of larks, a "chattering" of choughs, and indeed a "charm" of finches are all pleasantly suggestive of their subjects. So are a "murder" of crows, and an "unkindness" of ravens (a description relating to the raven's reputation for occasionally pushing its young out of the nest). Anyone familiar with the noise made by politicians in the Dáil during Leader's Questions will particularly appreciate the aptness of a "parliament" of rooks.
On the other hand, some of the collective nouns handed down from history are now so obscure as to be useful only in quizzes. Where else would you meet a "cete" of badgers, a "covey" of partridges, or a "sedge" of herons? And as for a "fesnyng" of ferrets, if you ever encounter such a thing in an enclosed area, my advice is to run. But you needn't worry. Ferrets are very solitary animals and, left to themselves, rarely require the services of any collective descriptions.
Even some perfectly logical nouns are rarely used now. According to Brewers Dictionary, for example, a group of sea otters is known as a "raft". But while a glance at the Irish Times archive shows that "raft" is still very popular as a metaphor, it tends to be used for everything except otters.
Recent stories have referred to a "raft of upsets" at the Australian tennis open, a "raft of flotations" on the stock market, a "raft of EU directives", and even a "raft of number sixes" in Eddie O'Sullivan's rugby World Cup squad, at the expense of a single fit number seven. But no otters anywhere.
At some unspecified moment of history, it appears the statute of limitations expired on collective terms - at least as recognised by dictionaries and quiz-setters. Henceforth, no new ones could be added.
It doesn't matter how many English soccer players have used the related phrase; a collection of parrots is still not formally known as a "sickness". Similarly, not even the 10 years of stalling after the Good Friday Agreement was enough to establish "stand-off" as the noun for two or more Northern politicians. And no matter how many windows are metaphorically opened, grasped, or seen through, no collection of opportunities anywhere has yet added up to a "greenhouse".
Crime reporters have tried harder than most to add to the collection. A "presence" of gardai, a "quantity" of explosives, a "definite line" of inquiries, and an "estimated street value" of drugs should all be officially recognised collective nouns now, with protected status and eligibility as answers to general knowledge questions. Instead, they tend to be regarded as mere hackneyed phrases.
The coining of new collective nouns is now just an internet parlour game. What do you now call a group of dental surgeons? A "brace", of course. But don't expect this to feature in dictionaries any time soon. The same goes for a "formation" of geologists, an "absence" of waiters, a "camp" of transvestites, a "visit" of Jehovah's Witnesses, an "attitude" of teenagers, and an "embarrassment" of parents.
Finally, what collective group or people or things does the term "clutch" describe? Well, the better answers now include "car mechanics" and "kleptomaniacs". But if it ever comes up in a table quiz, you'd better stick with "eggs".