Endeavour: Difference between revisions

From The Jolly Contrarian
Jump to navigation Jump to search
No edit summary
No edit summary
(2 intermediate revisions by the same user not shown)
Line 1: Line 1:
:“Give me credit,” I said, “I ''am'' trying”.
{{a|plainenglish|}}{{quote|
:“Well”, she replied, “I’ll give you that. You ''are'' trying.”   
“Give me credit,” I said, “I ''am'' trying”. <br>
:I smiled, flushed with such an unexpected compliment.
“Well”, she replied, “I’ll give you that. You ''are'' trying.”   
:“''Very'' trying.”
I smiled, flushing with unexpected compliment endorphins.<br>
 
“''Very'' trying.”}}


“[[Endeavour]]”  neatly illustrates the practical problem with plain English. It is a silly word: long; archaic; it conjures images of Captain Spaulding, in a pith helmet, slashing through jungle in the Congo on the hunt for Dr. Livingstone. Its alternative — “[[try]]” — is better in every way that a plain speaker cares about: shorter, more idiomatic, plainer, less fussy.  
“[[Endeavour]]”  neatly illustrates the practical problem with plain English. It is a silly word: long; archaic; it conjures images of Captain Spaulding, in a pith helmet, slashing through jungle in the Congo on the hunt for Dr. Livingstone. Its alternative — “[[try]]” — is better in every way that a plain speaker cares about: shorter, more idiomatic, plainer, less fussy.  
Line 16: Line 16:
But the plain English alternative reveals how thin that old hogget really is:
But the plain English alternative reveals how thin that old hogget really is:
:''“The vendor must [[try]] to tell the purchaser, but isn't responsible if it doesn’t.”''
:''“The vendor must [[try]] to tell the purchaser, but isn't responsible if it doesn’t.”''
 
{{sa}}
 
*[[BAU]]
{{plainenglish}}
{{egg}}
{{Published}}

Revision as of 11:47, 14 October 2021

Towards more picturesque speech


Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Requests? Insults? We’d love to 📧 hear from you.
Sign up for our newsletter.

“Give me credit,” I said, “I am trying”.
“Well”, she replied, “I’ll give you that. You are trying.” I smiled, flushing with unexpected compliment endorphins.
Very trying.”

Endeavour” neatly illustrates the practical problem with plain English. It is a silly word: long; archaic; it conjures images of Captain Spaulding, in a pith helmet, slashing through jungle in the Congo on the hunt for Dr. Livingstone. Its alternative — “try” — is better in every way that a plain speaker cares about: shorter, more idiomatic, plainer, less fussy.

But there, Dr. Livingstone I presume, lies the problem: “try” slices cleanly through the semantic murk that “endeavour” so skillfully stirs up. It makes clear something the draftsman rather hoped to obscure: namely, that this is a feeble covenant, not worth the paper it is written on.

Consider these alternatives:

“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 old hogget really is:

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

See also