A Few Absurdities of English as Language

by Suze Craig

English is my mother tongue. Indeed, she was key to the introduction to two of its myriad absurdities, as she read and reread to me my favorite story, “How the Elephant Got His Trunk”, by Rudyard Kipling.

I listened, enthralled. Heard, repeated, accepted the word. (What else can one do as a toddler?) Trunk: the elephant’s handy nose-grabber. Heard, understood, accepted.

A few years later, she presented me with a large, box-like receptacle, with a curved, hinged lid. A trunk, she said, to fill with my clothing and take to an upcoming summer adventure as a Brownie at Girl Scout Camp.

I heard, understood, and accepted the word. And never thought about the same word which I had already accepted as a long, grey, elephantine appendage. Or considered the oddity of one word for such wildly different things.

Hah! That’s just for starters. English becomes more absurd as you grow up and begin to read, write, and, oh groan, spell. In fact, when the written word is taken into account, it’s mayhem. How about “Wise guys prize their sighs and eyes”? Sew and so, or rather, so-and-so, but it’s not soer, but sewer. Wait, is that a waste disposal pipe or someone with a needle and thread?

If, curious reader, you want an expert “take” on many perplexities of English in particular, and language in general, start with Steven Pinker’s informative and amusing The Language Instinct. Be glad, as am I, you absorbed–without question--many bizarre illogicalities he presents. Park on the driveway, drive on the parkway.

Available at The Library after I return it…