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The American Language

H. L. Mencken

A glance through the /Congressional Record/ is sufficient to show how small is the minority of purists among the chosen leaders of the nation. Within half an hour, turning the pages at random, I find scores of locutions that would paralyze the stenographers in the House of Commons, and they are in the speeches, not of wild mavericks from the West, but of some of the chief men of the two Houses. Surely no Senator occupied a more conspicuous [Pg142] position, during the first year of the war, than Lee S. Overman, of North Carolina, chairman of the Committee on Rules, and commander of the administration forces on the floor. Well, I find Senator Overman using /to enthuse/ in a speech of the utmost seriousness and importance, and not once, but over and over again.[15] I turn back a few pages and encounter it again--this time in the mouth of General Sherwood, of Ohio. A few more, and I find a fit match for it, to wit, /to biograph/.[16] The speaker here is Senator L. Y. Sherman, of Illinois. In the same speech he uses /to resolute/. A few more, and various other characteristic verbs are unearthed: /to demagogue/,[17] /to dope out/[18] /to fall down/[19] (in the sense of to fail), /to jack up/,[20] /to phone/,[21] /to peeve/,[22] /to come across/,[23] /to hike/, /to butt in/,[24] /to back pedal/, /to get solid with/, /to hooverize/, /to trustify/, /to feature/, /to insurge/, /to haze/, /to reminisce/, /to camouflage/, /to play for a sucker/, and so on, almost /ad infinitum/. And with them, a large number of highly American nouns, chiefly compounds, all pressing upward for recognition: /tin-Lizzie/, /brain-storm/, /come-down/, /pin-head/, /trustification/, /pork-barrel/, /buck-private/, /dough-boy/, /cow-country/. And adjectives: /jitney/, /bush/ (for rural), /balled-up/,[25] /dolled-up/, /phoney/, /tax-paid/.[26] And phrases: /dollars to doughnuts/, /on the job/, /that gets me/, /one best bet/. And back-formations: /ad/, /movie/, /photo/. And [Pg143] various substitutions and Americanized inflections: /over/ for /more than/, /gotten/ for /got/ in the present perfect,[27] /rile/ for /roil/, /bust/ for /burst/. This last, in truth, has come into a dignity that even grammarians will soon hesitate to question. Who, in America, would dare to speak of /bursting/ a broncho, or of a /trust-burster/?[28] § 3 /Lost Distinctions/--This general iconoclasm reveals itself especially in a disdain for most of the niceties of modern English. The American, like the Elizabethan Englishman, is usually quite unconscious of them and even when they have been instilled into him by the hard labor of pedagogues he commonly pays little heed to them in his ordinary discourse. The English distinction between /will/ and /shall/ offers a salient case in point. This distinction, it may be said at once, is far more a confection of the grammarians than a product of the natural forces shaping the language. It has, indeed, little etymological basis, and is but imperfectly justified logically. One finds it disregarded in the Authorized Version of the Bible, in all the plays of Shakespeare, in the essays of the reign of Anne, and in some of the best examples of modern English literature. The theory behind it is so inordinately abstruse that the Fowlers, in "The King's English,"[29] require 20 pages to explain it, and even then they come to the resigned conclusion that the task is hopeless. "The idiomatic use [of the two auxiliaries]," they say, "is so complicated that those who are not to the manner born can hardly acquire it."[30] Well, even those who are to the manner born seem to find [Pg144] it difficult, for at once the learned authors cite blunder in the writings of Richardson, Stevenson, Gladstone, Jowett, Oscar Wilde, and even Henry Sweet, author of the best existing grammar of the English language. In American the distinction is almost lost. No ordinary American, save after the most laborious reflection, would detect anything wrong in this sentence from the /London Times/, denounced as corrupt by the Fowlers: "We must reconcile what we would like to do with what we can do." Nor in this by W. B. Yeats: "The character who delights us may commit murder like Macbeth ... and yet we will rejoice in every happiness that comes to him." Half a century ago, impatient of the effort to fasten the English distinction upon American, George P. Marsh attacked it as of "no logical value or significance whatever," and predicted that "at no very distant day this verbal quibble will disappear, and one of the auxiliaries will be employed, with all persons of the nominative, exclusively as the sign of the future, and the other only as an expression of purpose or authority."[31] This prophecy has been substantially verified. /Will/ is sound American "with all persons of the nominative," and /shall/ is almost invariably an "expression of purpose or authority."[32] And so, though perhaps not to the same extent, with /who/ and /whom/. Now and then there arises a sort of panicky feeling that /whom/ is being neglected, and so it is trotted out,[33] but in the [Pg145] main the American language tends to dispense with it, at least in its least graceful situations. Noah Webster, always the pragmatic reformer, denounced it so long ago as 1783. Common sense, he argued, was on the side of "/who/ did he marry?" Today such a form as "/whom/ are you talking to?" would seem somewhat affected in ordinary discourse in America; "/who/ are you talking to?" is heard a thousand times oftener--and is doubly American, for it substitutes /who/ for /whom/ and puts a preposition at the end of a sentence: two crimes that most English purists would seek to avoid. It is among the pronouns that the only remaining case inflections in English are to be found, if we forget the possessive, and even here these survivors of an earlier day begin to grow insecure. Lounsbury's defense of "it is /me/,"[34] as we shall see in the next chapter, has support in the history and natural movement of the language, and that movement is also against the preservation of the distinction between /who/ and /whom/. The common speech plays hob with both of the orthodox inflections, despite the protests of grammarians, and in the long run, no doubt, they will be forced to yield to its pressure, as they have always yielded in the past. Between the dative and accusative on the one side and the nominative on the other there has been war in the English language for centuries, and it has always tended to become a war of extermination. Our now universal use of /you/ for /ye/ in the nominative shows the dative and accusative swallowing the nominative, and the practical disappearance of /hither/, /thither/ and /whither/, whose place is now taken by /here/, /there/ and /where/, shows a contrary process. In such wars a /posse comitatus/ marches ahead of the disciplined army. American stands to English in the relation of that posse to that army. It is incomparably more enterprising, more contemptuous of precedent and authority, more impatient of rule. A shadowy line often separates what is currently coming into sound usage from what is still regarded as barbarous. No self-respecting American, I daresay, would defend /ain't/ as a substitute [Pg146] for /isn't/, say in "he /ain't/ the man," and yet /ain't/ is already tolerably respectable in the first person, where English countenances the even more clumsy /aren't/. /Aren't/ has never got a foothold in the American first person; when it is used at all, which is very rarely, it is always as a conscious Briticism. Facing the alternative of employing the unwieldy "am I not in this?" the American turns boldly to "/ain't/ I in this?" It still grates a bit, perhaps, but /aren't/ grates even more. Here, as always, the popular speech is pulling the exacter speech along, and no one familiar with its successes in the past can have much doubt that it will succeed again, soon or late. In the same way it is breaking down the inflectional distinction between adverb and adjective, so that "I feel /bad/" begins to take on the dignity of a national idiom, and /sure/, /to go big/ and /run slow/[35] become almost respectable. When, on the entrance of the United States into the war, the Marine Corps chose "treat 'em /rough/" as its motto, no one thought to raise a grammatical objection, and the clipped adverb was printed upon hundreds of thousands of posters and displayed in every town in the country, always with the imprimatur of the national government. So, again, American, in its spoken form, tends to obliterate the distinction between nearly related adjectives, /e. g./, /healthful/ and /healthy/, /tasteful/ and /tasty/. And to challenge the somewhat absurd text-book prohibition of terminal prepositions, so that "where are we /at/?" loses its old raciness. And to dally with the double negative, as in "I have no doubt /but/ that."[36] But these tendencies, or at least the more extravagant of them, belong to the next chapter. How much influence they exert, even [Pg147] indirectly, is shown by the American disdain of the English precision in the use of the indefinite pronoun. I turn to the /Saturday Evening Post/, and in two minutes find: "/one/ feels like an atom when /he/ begins to review /his/ own life and deeds."[37] The error is very rare in English; the Fowlers, seeking examples of it, could get them only from the writings of a third-rate woman novelist, Scotch to boot. But it is so common in American that it scarcely attracts notice. Neither does the appearance of a redundant /s/ in such words as /towards/, /downwards/, /afterwards/ and /heavenwards/. In England this /s/ is used relatively seldom, and then it usually marks a distinction in meaning, as it does on both sides of the ocean between /beside/ and /besides/. "In modern standard English," says Smith,[38] "though not in the English of the United States, a distinction which we feel, but many of us could not define, is made between /forward/ and /forwards/; /forwards/ being used in definite contrast to any other direction, as 'if you move at all, you can only move /forwards/,' while /forward/ is used where no such contrast is implied, as in the common phrase 'to bring a matter forward.'"[39] This specific distinction, despite Smith, probably retains some force in the United States too, but in general our usage allows the /s/ in cases where English usage would certainly be against it. Gould, in the 50's, noted its appearance at the end of such words as /somewhere/ and /anyway/, and denounced it as vulgar and illogical. Thornton has traced /anyways/ back to 1842 and shown that it is an archaism, and to be found in the Book of Common Prayer (/circa/ 1560); perhaps it has been preserved by analogy with /sideways/. Henry James, in "The Question of Our Speech," attacked "such forms of impunity as /somewheres else/ and /nowheres else/, /a good ways on/ and /a good ways off/" as "vulgarisms with what a great deal of general credit for what we good-naturedly call 'refinement' appears so able to coexist."[40] /Towards/ and /afterwards/, though frowned upon in England, are now quite sound in American. I [Pg148] find the former in the title of an article in /Dialect Notes/, which plainly gives it scholastic authority.[41] More (and with no little humor), I find it in the deed of a fund given to the American Academy of Arts and Letters to enable the gifted philologs of that sanhedrin "to consider its duty /towards/ the conservation of the English language in its beauty and purity."[42] Both /towards/ and /afterwards/, finally, are included in the /New York Evening Post's/ list of "words no longer disapproved when in their proper places," along with /over/ for /more than/, and /during/ for /in the course of/.