“Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is decadent and our language–so the argument runs–much inevitably share in the general collapse. It follows that any struggle against the abuse of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an instrument which we shape for our own purposes.” (77)
This is how George Orwell’s essay titled “Politics and the English Language” begins. It can be found in his collection of essays Shooting an Elephant New York: Harcourt, Brace & World (1950), 77-92. Now, while this essay is a commentary on political writing it is also packed full of great writing advice. I originally came across it through a series of emails that were circulating on campus amongst the faculty and one suggested that we should all go back and review this essay. Seeing as I had never read it I decided to give it a try.
Near the beginning of the essay, Orwell gives five examples of poor political writing, which he later comments on in detail, but all have two common qualities: “staleness of imagery” and “lack of precision”. He then goes on to illustrate the ways that prose-construction is avoided:
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“Dying metaphors. A newly invented metaphor assists thought by evoking a visual image, while on the other hand a metaphor which is technically ‘dead’ . . . has in effect reverted to being an ordinary word and can generally be used without loss of vividness. But in between these two classes there is a huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves.” (80)
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“Operators or verbal false limbs. These save the trouble of picking out appropriate verbs and nouns, and at the same time pad each sentence with extra syllables which give it an appearance of symmetry.” (80)
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“Pretentious diction . . . [results in] an increase in slovenliness and vagueness.” (81-2)
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“Meaningless words.“ (82) Orwell describes this best, but I think the phrase is descriptive itself.
Honestly, I recommend you take the time to read this essay. It is a quick read and full of constructive advice.
“As I have tried to show, modern writing at its worst does not consist in picking out words for the sake of their meaning and inventing images in order to make their meaning clearer. It consists of gumming together long strips of words which have already been set in order by someone else, and making the results presentable by sheer humbug. The attraction of this way of writing is that it is easy. It is easier–even quicker, once you have the habit–to say In my opinion it is not an unjustifiable assumption that than to say I think.” (85)
I love his sarcasm here:
“By using stale metaphors, similes and idioms, you save much mental effort, at the cost of leaving your meaning vague, not only for your reader but for yourself.” (85-6)
He quickly moves to further advice:
“A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus: What am I trying to say? What words will express it? What image or idiom will make it clearer? Is this image fresh enough to have an effect? And he will probably ask himself two more: Could I put it more shortly? Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly? But you are not obliged to go to all this trouble. You can shirk it by simply throwing your mind open and letting the ready-made phrases come crowding in.” (86-7)
As he gets further into his commentary about political writing, Orwell does not hide his opinion:
“The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one’s real and one’s declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish squirting out ink.” (88-9)
Are you a cuttlefish?
And, predictably, the author admits he has probably committed many of these offenses himself. (89) He is in part, like others, influenced by his environment.
“But if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought. A bad usage can spread by tradition and imitation, even among people who should and do know better.” (89)
As he nears the end of the essay, Orwell makes several more writing recommendations and then clearly maps out six rules to follow when logical instinct fails in the writing process:
“(i) Never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
(ii) Never use a long word where a short one will do.
(iii) If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
(iv) Never use the passive where you can use the active.
(v) Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
(vi) Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.
These rules sound elementary, and so they are, but they demand a deep change of attitude in anyone who has grown used to writing in the style now fashionable. One could keep all of them and still write bad English, but one could not write the kind of stuff that I quoted in those five specimens at the beginning of this article.” (91-2)
So, how are you doing with your writing? Well, I certainly have a lot of room for improvement. In a time where self-publishing is so easy, I think we should make a conscious effort to review and revise what we publish on a regular basis. Well, at lease I should. Wish me luck! And go read Orwell’s essay.
