Showing posts with label Auxiliary Verbs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Auxiliary Verbs. Show all posts

Thursday 11 February 2021

The grievous worries of Gissingites . . . ‘You have to promise me to suppress your redundant auxiliary verbs . . . ’ (To Have and Have Not, Part 2.)

I fear the following reflections rehash a Case of Unfinished Business inasmuch as a little while ago I challenged  those assumptions that accept there is a classical economy expressed by Lewis (Lutwidge) Carroll’s prose, a feature many would expect of an Oxford logician. I have no doubt that his near namesake, the Cambridge logician Ludwig Wittgenstein, would have had a view on it.  http://catherineeisnerfrance.blogspot.com/2012/04/to-have-and-have-not.html

I questioned the words of Alice, ‘Oh dear! I’d nearly forgotten that I’ve got to grow up again!’  I maintained that the sort of double-verbing Carroll employs with his irritating auxiliary+verb clusters lacks the crystal clarity one would have expected from an Euclidean geometrist and syllogistic rationalist. 

With these scruples – not to say overscrupulosity – in mind, I was prompted to ask Pierre Coustillas, the world’s foremost authority on George Gissing – a master of plain English prose perfected by the acutest discrimination – as to whether ‘a Frenchman of equal discernment had ever noted in Gissing the use of the redundant auxiliary verb of “got” (as in “I have got” instead of “I have”).’ I added: ‘In your estimation, having read and reread Gissing, do you regard Gissing as a purist in English usage?’

For a contemporary usage, I noted that Wilde, in his Ideal Husband of 1893, has the character, Mrs. Cheveley, say: ‘You have got to promise me to suppress your report.’

‘You have got to promise me . . ’
  

Linguistic oddities?

Professor Coustillas kindly replied: ‘As you seem to have guessed linguistic problems and Gissing’s use of English have been to me (and to my wife) a fascinating subject. Very rarely do we happen to notice oddities. An example which will not surprise you is his (in my opinion) faulty  use – off and on – of “like” for “as”. Clara Collet* once told him about this and (surprisingly!) he declared himself surprised. But this being said, he was, I think, an excellent stylist. He was a purist. His correspondence with Kitton about their respective editorial labours for the Rochester Edition of Dickens’s works (Methuen) is interesting in this respect.

 ‘He certainly never uses the form used by Mrs. Cheveley! Indeed he never uses “do” with “have”. I think that looking for “I do not have” in his works and correspondence would be a waste of time.

‘Although I do not wish either you or myself to spend too much time on such problems, I am tempted to ask you whether you have noticed that very few English people ever use the word “whom” these days. The mistake which consists in using “who” for “whom” is common even among English academics. As a foreigner, such things worry me grievously.’

* Noted statistician and confidante of George Gissing and Eleanor Marx.

 

Evanescent conjectures . . . alleged solecism.

In the event, since this correspondence was conducted in November 2009, we never returned to these rather evanescent conjectures and, nine years later, this venerated scholar sadly was taken from us (Pierre Coustillas, literary scholar, born 11 July 1930; died 11 August 2018).

Only lately have I reconsidered the alleged solecism of ‘like’ for ‘as’.

It did not take me long to find in Demos an example of how the ‘as = like’ misconception of Gissing’s ‘impure English’ might have arisen.

In Demos, the protagonist Richard Mutimer is lower-class.  On two occasions the alleged solecism can be read:

She never takes things like you do,’ Richard remarked.

‘You’re not going to say, like mother did, that it was the worst piece of news she’d ever heard?’

In my view, in each case the lower class colloquialisms are in character, so hardly the error Clara Collet supposedly identified
.

So for loyal Gissingites the writings of our hero remain an unpolluted stream of both demotic and unadorned English in cadences regulated by a classicist, in exemplars of English prose at its neatest and nimblest because even when, without sentiment, it reaches down to explore below the Lower Depths it still issues from a source that flows faultlessly from the Heights of Parnassus.    

 

See also . . . Escape Chute: An Unexpected Loophole to Enfranchisement (re. Gissing’s feminism)http://catherineeisnerfrance.blogspot.com/2013/03/escape-chute-unexpected-loophole-to.html

See also . . . A Girl Alone: Scenario of a Screenplay in Homage to George Gissing. http://catherineeisnerfrance.blogspot.com/2016/04/a-girl-alone-scenario-of-screenplay-in.html

See also . . . Respectable Log-Rolling.                              https://catherineeisnerfrance.blogspot.com/2012/02/?m=0


Catherine Eisner believes passionately in plot-driven suspense fiction, a devotion to literary craft that draws on studies in psychoanalytical criminology and psychoactive pharmacology to explore the dark side of motivation, and ignite plot twists with unexpected outcomes. Within these disciplines Eisner’s fictions seek to explore variant literary forms derived from psychotherapy and criminology to trace the traumas of characters in extremis. Compulsive recurring sub-themes in her narratives examine sibling rivalry, rivalrous cousinhood, pathological imposture, financial chicanery, and the effects of non-familial male pheromones on pubescence, 
and Listen Close to Me (2011)
and A Bad Case (2014)

 


Monday 30 April 2012

To Have and Have Not.

I was SO pleased to have a text of mine published this year in the Winter issue of Ambit, particularly as I feared its subject was contentious: the sickly aesthetic of Lewis Carroll. Anyhow, the piece was published free of any censorious hand ( A Bad Case : The Unexplained Growing Pains of Elise von Alpenberg ), prompting a deal of private correspondence in which I questioned those assumptions that accept there is a classical economy expressed by Carroll’s prose, a feature many would expect of an Oxford logician. 

Mind you, my misgivings are more to do with the sensibilities of an offended preciosity that few would indulge, for my contention is that, though the prose of Alice has, yes, a marvelous colloquial simplicity, it's disappointing to find speech like, 'Oh dear! I'd nearly forgotten that I've got to grow up again!'  

I would have thought that a logician would have retained the perfect-tense auxiliary verb HAVE and dispensed with the past participle of the verb GET. The sort of double verbing Carroll employs with his irritating auxiliary+verb clusters lacks the crystal clarity one would have expected from an Euclidean geometrist and syllogistic rationalist.

 My tender ear would prefer:
 'Oh dear! I'd nearly forgotten that I have to grow up again!'

However, an august grammarian (one the augustest) responds to demolish my theory.

He says: ' "I have got an idea" has a tense perfect-tense auxiliary verb HAVE followed by the past participle of the verb GET, with a slightly idiomatic meaning: normally "I have VERBed" is the perfect tense of "I VERB", and refers to something in the past seen from a present reference point and with present relevance; but "have got X" simply means "possess X". '

How elegantly put!

He goes on: 'English is loaded with auxiliary + verb sequences with slightly idiomatic meanings (i.e., meanings not fully predictable from the usual meanings of the words used) ... Nothing wrong with them, nothing surprising about them, nothing "doubled".'

Mmm. Nothing doubled, eh?  Still not entirely sure about that.