2/4/08

Having already blogged on chapter 8-14 in "Grammar Snobs" last week, I will do the most logical alternative: blog about chapters 8-14 again.

Last week I failed to mention Casagrande's letter at the opening of chapter eight. In this letter, she beseeches an old coworker (and romantic interest) to forgive her for an instance of grammar snobbery in her past. It seems that at one point during her teen years, June corrected a boy named "E.J." on his usage of "dreamed," informing that the right way to say it is "dreamt." June apologizes for this flash of grammar snobbery and says that in fact they were both right, further propelling her argument that there are very few instances with one "right" way to say things.

It's a good point, but it brings up the interesting question of who is a grammar snob? The short answer? Everyone.

I think that, in the endless struggle to polish our communication, sound intelligent, or simply convey meaningful information, it's alarmingly easy to become a grammar snob. It doesn't mean you're a bad person. I wouldn't consider myself a, say, permanent grammar snob, but there have been those times when I've arrogantly corrected the usage of my friends. I cringe now when friends defer to me for the right way to state something. I cringe mostly because I usually don't know and am embarrassed to admit it, but also in part because I hate to be reminded that I have touted myself at times as "knowing best." So yeah, I think it's important to acknowledge that grammar snobbery can happen to anyone, at anytime.

It's like George Lucas' concept of "the dark side." It's easy to fall to the dark side while searching for truth and justice, because it is a kind of power that helps you achieve an end. With grammar, we always try to perfect our own so we can be respected as writers and be great communicators, but if we aren't careful, we might just end up on the dark side that is grammar snobbery.