Anthony Esolen

Have you ever noticed that there aren’t any words in French or Spanish that begin with  sl-?  There weren’t any in Latin, either. Every language rules out certain combinations of consonants, as being too hard to pronounce. Hawaiian rules them all out! You never . . . . Continue Reading »

Some years ago I began to notice that my college freshmen had all gotten a very strange idea. They had been taught that one must never begin a sentence with the word “because.” I have no idea where high school teachers came up with this one. It is like alligators in the . . . . Continue Reading »

You’d expect that somebody named Waters used to live beside some waters, just as somebody named Rivers used to live beside a river. It ain’t so. Just pronounce the name Walters as if you were from Phiwadewphia: Waowters. The dark English “l” was swawwowed up in . . . . Continue Reading »

The word is commonly but inaccurately spelled “forego,” but those are really two separate and unrelated verbs. The “fore” in “forego” means “first” or “before,” so that a “foregone conclusion” is a conclusion that comes before any . . . . Continue Reading »

We in English have an odd and useful tool: a possessive that can be appended to an entire phrase, rather than to just one word.  Look at the following: Il figlio del re d’Inghilterra  (Italian) Le fils du roi d’Angleterre  (French) Der Sohn des Koeniges von . . . . Continue Reading »

The word redundant suggests a wave that keeps splashing over the side of the boat, over and over. We use it to signify something unnecessary because it has already been said or done. It is not the same as repetition, which can be extraordinarily effective. Redundancies in poor writing . . . . Continue Reading »

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” says Queen Gertrude in Hamlet , watching a play wherein a woman professes, in the most fulsome terms, utter devotion to her husband the king, two minutes before the king’s brother will poison him by pouring poison into his ear, and four . . . . Continue Reading »

Deponent verbs are the bane of the young Latin student’s existence. They take the form of the passive voice, but they have  active meaning.  And they are darned common: loquor, I speak; confiteor, I confess; morior, I die.  Many of them are transitive verbs, and so they can . . . . Continue Reading »

In the Beetle Bailey comic strip, the old addled General Halftrack has a dumb blonde secretary with really dangerous curves. Her name, of course, is Miss Buxley. Mort Walker was punning on the word buxom, which is now used only to describe a woman—and not every woman, either! It . . . . Continue Reading »

I like the word brethren. Its specialized use is to denote members of a solemn or sacred brotherhood, sometimes including women too. Nobody would now say, “I have three sisters and two brethren,” unless he was telling a joke; he’s a member of an order of priests, and there are three . . . . Continue Reading »