Diacritiques

I mean those who collect dangling modifiers in published writing.

This is from Jonathan Freedland’s opinion piece in today’s Guardian:

Like a character in Shakespearean tragedy, race is America’s fatal flaw, the weakness which so often brings it low.

I’m not even sure this counts as a mere dangling modifier: the imagery is just too confused. Or, as my friend Steph, who I ran this by on IRC, put it, “race isn’t a character that is a fatal flaw in Shakespearean tragedy”. Or, for that matter, like one. #[1]

There’s of course a lot to be said about race relations in the US or elsewhere, now or throughout history. And, to his credit, Freedland does try, though nothing he says is I think particularly original. Still, would it be too much asked to tackle the task using clear metaphors, even if the language may end up being a little less exalted?

[1]: For the record, I think he means something like: race:America::a flawed character:(a?) Shakespearean tragedy. But that’s still confused. Shakespearean tragedies would be much less interesting if the characters weren’t flawed; typically, all of them are. They are not the weakness that brings the tragedy low, even though they may, collectively, and assisted by literary devices, fate and stuff like this, bring the final catastrophe about.

The canonical example for a speech act that can cause real harm has long been “screaming ‘Fire’ in a crowded theatre”. Maybe this should be replaced with “screaming ’suicide bomber’ in a packed crowd”.

All in all, last week has been rather too murderous.

(I am aware that neither of these utterances is a performative act the consequences of which follow by virtue of its being spoken. Like declaring a convention open by virtue of someone in charge saying “I declare this convention open”. The one thousand or so pilgrims didn’t die from the words “there’s a suicide bomber in the crowd” merely being spoken, but of the physical acts that ensued.)

When I read the AFP wire US declines Swedish water sanitation aid on Yahoo! News#[1], the ad I’ve reproduced here was shown next to the article. (You’ll probably see a different ad if you click on the link; the original file is here (gif file).)

So what’s wrong with it?

1. I don’t know how many other US sports stadiums are called “Superdome”#[2], but for the moment, the name calls to mind the New Orleans Superdome and its scenes of suffering.
2. If the Colosseum (the German Wikipedia entry is actually quite a bit better, for once) was a “Superdome”, what went on there? Well, public entertainment, except that it was cheaper (free admission for Roman citizens, as opposed to the $90 ticket price I’ve seen quoted for the New Orleans football games): fights between animals (venationes), combats between gladiators (munera), public executions, in particular the killing of prisoners by animals (noxii). And mock naval battles (naumachiae) — in the beginning, the basement of the Colosseum could be flooded. Estimates vary, but several hundreds of thousands of people died there during these extremely blood-thirsty spectacles. The Colosseum is a contender for the top spot on the list of single places that saw the killing of the gratest number of human beings, in known history.
   At this point I start seriously wondering what kind of association The History Channel is aiming for in its ad.
3. If the Colosseum, or Amphitheatrum Flavium, was the biggest Roman amphitheatre, it wasn’t the first such venue. It was inaugurated in 80 C.E., whereas the second largest, in Capua, was at least begun, if maybe not completed, in Augustan times (i.e. before 14 C.E.), and for the third largest, Verona’s Arena, usually a date of around 30 C.E. is given. Both seated tenths of thousands of people and were used for similar forms of entertainment, so they should qualify for the “Superdome” label.
   Not to mention much older great amphitheatres, with their religious and properly theatrical festivals,
4. I find the reference to chariots puzzling. Either they are thinking of visitor parking — in which case they would be quite far off the mark. The masses of Rome certainly didn’t arrive in chariots. As for parking space outside the Colosseum, have a look at this scale model (the Colosseum is the near-circular shape at the top of the image, about two fifth in from the right edge). Imperial Rome was a crowded city of up to a million inhabitants. Not much consideration was given to chariot parking lots.
   Or were they thinking of chariot races? Like in Ben Hur? Those didn’t take place in the Colosseum, but in the Circus Maximus, among other places. (In the image, the Circus Maximus is the oblong race track to the right of the Colosseum.)

I am unfamiliar with The History Channel and have no idea of its overall quality. This ad doesn’t precisely give me a favourable impression of its concern for historical accuracy, or good taste, for that matter.

[1]: Refusing water sanitation aid doesn’t strike me as a particularly bright idea, given the immense need. Still, the Swedish official who is quoted in the article leaves the question ultimately open: “They couldn’t accept the aid today (but) we’re still waiting for word that they may need our help.” (UPDATE — not to let this stand: a few hours after this was posted, news wire stories came in saying that the US is now indeed asking for help. Good. [2]: There’s a fair amount of confusion in the European media between “Superdome” and “Superbowl”. After all, a bowl is just a dome turned upside-down. The Colosseum, for what it’s worth, does look more like a bowl than a dome.

Mark Liberman receives a parcel from Japan (with an interesting book inside), and wonders why a shipment from Asia to America should be marked with a stamp in French saying BUREAU DE POSTE - MUSASHIFUCHU JAPON - TAXE PERÇUE: I didn’t know that percevoir can mean “to receive (payment)” as well as “to perceive” […]

On Culture Vulture, the Guardian’s cultural news blog, Sarah Crown reports on the difficulties of turning Philip Pullman’s excellent and complex His Dark Materials trilogy into a film. The putative director, Chris Weitz, has just resigned from the job. A little further on, there’s a paragraph on something I’d heard about before: Weitz, who […]

This is a bit of a side-piece to the investigation into the pronunciation of the and a — reduced or unreduced? in which context does which form occur? My previous posts are here and here, Mark Liberman’s principal ones here, here, here and here, and David Beaver chipped in here and here. Looking into when a […]

Isn’t there an extraneous apostrophe in the logo of this Firefox extensions repository?

[I’ve considered giving this post the English title Pragmatic breakdown because breakdown is just so much more expressive and general than the French panne, which mostly refer to cars breaking down. But the event this is going to be about happened in the French blogosphere, so a French title is it.] Yes, I know, I owe […]

I’ve played around with anagrams of my name before, and even had “A Chisel Writing” in the tagline for a while. But now Jean Véronis takes the name-anagram fun one step further with his pen-name generator. (Yes, in French, but you won’t have any problems figuring out how to work it.) Unlike the previous anagrams, these […]

BBC Radio 4 has a new programme#[1] on language which will air once a week through August and September: Word 4 Word . It is part of the BBC Voices project and produced with the Open University, so this might be quite interesting. Quoting Dermot Murnaghan off the Voices page: Language is a badge. […]