Inspired by Boris’s recent oration, I was going to compose an epigram in praise of his prose, a dirty limerick in honour of his hobbies and a white paper for the promise of his politics. That was until I came across the unthinkable: Boris Johnson split the infinitive. He’ll probably try and defend himself: the Mayor of London can’t proof read every Greater London Press Release – and Greater London isn’t even really London – and so it’s unfair to hold him directly responsible. But, it happened on his watch.
Last week’s press release “Mayor tightens grip on disruptive roadworks in London” contained not one but two horribly dismembered infinitives, namely: “to now use” and “to properly charge”.
You might argue, if you were feeling contrary, that if Defoe, Eliot or James counted among its perpetrators, splitting the infinitive is hardly a cardinal sin. What really stings, however, is that one of the posited – though never substantiated – objections to the split infinitive is in honour of Latin syntax. In Latin, the present infinitive is contained in the ending; you are categorically unable to hack it apart. So why on earth would you wish to do that in English? Whatever his stance, Boris, with his supposed regard for the Literae Humaniores, should have ensured that any such grammatical controversy was tactfully avoided. I can well imagine what his bluff and bluster of a defence would be but blaming delegation is no excuse; Boris would do well to observe this Latin proverb, which, by the by, climaxes with a beautiful passive infinitive: delegata potestas non potest delegari (‘no delegated powers can be further delegated’).
Further reading:
1) The Language Wars by Henry Hitchings (John Murray)
Theatre critic for the Evening Standard, and specialist on Dr. Johnson, Henry Hitchings describes the vagrancy of the English language and the controversies this sparks. Infamously opinionated and garrulous, Hitchings litters his account with riveting anecdotes. As early as the 1700s, for example, the punctilious Jonathan Swift campaigned against trends for contracting words such as mob, insisting it should remain in its original form: “mobile vulgus.”
2) Through the Language Glass by Guy Deutscher (William Heinemann)
After studying mathematics at Cambridge, Guy Deutscher went on to do a PhD in linguistics. His third book explores how language colours, and reflects, the way we think about our world. For example, “the African language Supyire from Mali has five genders: humans, big things, small things, collectives and liquids…and the Australian language Ngan’git-yemerri is said to have 15 different genders, which include, among others, masculine human, feminine human, canines, non-canine animals, vegetables, drinks, and two different genders for spears (depending on size and material).”
3) New Finnish Grammar by Diego Marani (Dedalus)
Former translator for the EU, and inventor of Europanto (a fictional language which incorporates all the European languages), Diego Marani ist the parfait persona to tell this story. In his novel, a man wakes up with no memory and is forced to relearn language. And the poor bloke happens to end up in Finland. Finnish grammar is notoriously intricate, counting 15 cases for nouns — including one for nouns which are absent. It’s an abessive case of amnesia.
Fleur Macdonald is editor of The Omnivore and volunteers for Classics for All
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