Endeavour

“Well”, a drama tutor said to me once, “I cannot argue with you about that. You are trying.”

“Very fucking trying.”

To endeavour is a verb that illustrates the practical problem being a plain English fanatic. It is a silly word: long, archaic, and its alternative — to try — is better in every way that a Plain Englishman cares about: shorter, more idiomatic, plainer, less fussy.

But therein lies the problem: “try” slices cleanly through the semantic murk that endeavour so skillfully stirs up, and makes plain something the draftsman rather hoped to obscure: That his client’s convenant is barely worth the paper it is written on.

“The vendor shall endeavour to notify the purchaser of its intention within a reasonable period, but shall not have any liability for failing to do so.”

Which sounds qualified, sure, but at least carrying some meat on its bones. But the plain English alternative reveals how thin that gruel really is:

“The vendor must try to tell the purchaser, but isn't responsible if it doesn’t.”