Words That Warm The Cockles Of My Heart

Three events occurred that set me to thinking about words and their usage. The first event: Kathy found a bit of paper in her mother's possessions that must have been written in the late 1960s. It was a single legal-sized sheet put out by the Lovett School entitled "Home Study" that dealt with homework and studying at home. The second was an article in the August 27, 2021 print edition of the Wall Street Journal by Allan Ripp, a New York PR man, entitled "Old-Fangled Words Are Wondrous, Methinks". The third was an encounter with the book by W. J. Cash entitled The Mind of the South (Alfred A. Knopf, 1941).

"Home Study" was a guide to success disguised as a missive on homework. It was typed, and most likely reproduced by photocopy machine. It posited a theory of how learning actually occurs, and then went into specific recommendations. I was drawn to three items on the sheet. The first was the handwritten comments her father made on this document. "Review with Kathy", "Children should do lessons themselves", "No radio, no TV, except weekends", "No telephoning for assignments", "Children must learn to follow directions", "Must do homework even when there's nothing to write - don't just read, but study". He had written two words on top of the sheet, one above the other: "competence" on top, "confidence" on the bottom, with little arrows from one to another, demonstrating how competence in one's studies tended to produce confidence in one's abilities, thus improving competence. As far as I am concerned, everything he wrote is still true today.

The second item that drew my attention was a line at the bottom of the page, with the number "2" inserted by hand. The whole paragraph read as follows:

"Lovett School expects you to do 2 hours of home work a night. If you are not getting that much homework, tell your teacher."

Naturally, I photocopied this piece of paper and distributed it to all my students, who had a good laugh at the suggestion that a student would tell a teacher that the student is not getting enough homework.

The third item that caught my attention was the paragraph dealing with the importance of establishing good study habits. The last sentence in the paragraph is reproduced here: "And don't raid the icebox or use the telephone until you have mastered your assignments."

Don't raid the icebox. I haven't heard the Kelvinator referred to as an icebox in awhile.

Mr. Ripp's article in the Wall Street Journal was a trip down memory lane. We appear to be about the same age, and if not that, at least of the same generation. His wife responded to his comment about a trip to the "beauty parlor" with the quip: "What are you, 95?" I guess the term "beauty parlor" is now passé. I found myself in agreement with him on the use of the words "cool" and "awesome". I would go so far as to outlaw the overused word "awesome" and substitute in its stead "groovy", a grossly under-used word these days. And who can disagree with his final paragraph?

"Speaking decently is no guarantee of being decent - there are upstanding trash-talkers just as there are scoundrels with silver tongues. But I've found it helps to deploy a kind word, a civil word and sometimes an old word to feel right with the world where the past is ever-present."

Which brings me to Wilbur Cash. The copy of his work that I am reading was given to me by my late mother-in-law. She had once lived in Shelby, NC, and Cash had once been the editor of the local Shelby newspaper. Apparently he was the biggest thing to hit that small town, and newcomers to the community were almost forced to read him. Cash was a fellow Demon Deacon, having graduated from Wake Forest College in 1922. The book was published in February of 1941, and offers what can charitably be described as a controversial view of the South. According to the back cover of the paperback, Time considered it a masterpiece: "Anything written about the South henceforth must start where he leaves off." The Nashville Agrarians, however, did not think so highly of the book. They were not alone. The historian C. Vann Woodward offered several penetrating criticisms of his work, the most damning of which (it seems to me) is that Cash simply ignored any evidence that was contrary to the point he was making.

But this is not a book review. A book written by a 1922 college graduate is sure to contain some phrases no longer current, and Cash does not disappoint on that score. The recurring phrase that caught my attention at first was the "proto-Dorian bond" (and later, the "proto-Dorian rank") which, I think, is a reference to the Doric Knights of Sparta. "Proto-Dorian" appears over and over in the work, but is never defined. And that is not the only Greek reference in the work. I had never, to my knowledge, heard of an "Eidolon". Words such as "douzepers" and "larruped" sent me to the dictionary.

Of course, there are references in the book to "modern" writers (Thomas Nelson Page) and less modern writers (William Gilmore Simms), as well as some of the classic writers (Sallust, Cicero). I had to look up references to the "days of Thorough" and "the quest for the Sangraal".

I thought that Cash had made up one word, but it turns out that "gyneolatry" is an actual word with a real definition. And, as it happens, I am guilty of it.

One final word (pardon the pun): another article appeared in the Wall Street Journal recently entitled "Joe Biden's Presidency Is Incredible - No, Really". A few sentences in the article alleviated my confusion:

"I don't mean 'incredible' in the sense the word has come to be used in the modern argot of our rapidly devaluing language. . . I should make clear that what makes Joe Biden an incredible president is that you can't believe a word he says."

Groovy n'est-ce pas?