middleblog-a suburban babble brook book

An Aside: On Writing

My blog will feature these entries, these asides, on thoughts that don't quite fit in with my established theme.

I have always been fascinated with the English language.  Language seems a form of magic to me;  a single word, spoken judiciously, can conjure an entire scene.

An erudite here on WDC has chided me for the awkward use of archaic language.  Reading between the lines (which one should never), in essence I felt as though the reader felt that I should cater to my audience, and write in a more contemporary style. Tsk tsk, I was chastised, it seems as though the writer is attempting to speak in a terribly old-fashioned, gauche, if you will, fashion. 

I drew my old gauche cape of words closer to my throat and looked at it harshly.  Well, yes, I could reasonably be charged with verbosity.  I have an uncanny ability with language, syllables, words.  Every writing endeavor is a tapestry for me to weave, imbued with all the subtle richness of creation.  Writing is my art, and I labor long and lovingly over the placement of every syllable, every nuance that enhances an image further. 

My grandmother had many favorite phrases.  One was "The brain is a muscle, and like any other it will atrophy without use."  Why can't the same be said of language as can be said of any valuable tool or fact?  If we forget about good old vitamin deficiencies, then scurvy and ricketts will run amok anew.  If we forget the stalwart stanchions of our language, will the evolution of thought regress, atrophy?

Just as an aside.