First
In reading The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, a novel whose themes and language are dated (which is good, because I'm nostalgic), I encountered the phrase "of a sudden", sans 'all', and it occurred to me after all these years that it's a prepositional phrase. Being such, sudden is the object. Which means it's a noun.
Something important to know is that I envision a man similar to Poe or Hemingway living in my head, poised at a Dickens desk with a pot of ink and either a quill or fountain pen, depending on the poetic nature of the words I'm processing, be it through reading or writing. (This, for instance, is a piece more suited for a pen than a quill.) Anyway, I imagine this scholarly figure, henceforth known as Ernest Allen Poe, looking up suddenly from his parchment in a moment of disbelief. How could he have glossed over that fact for his entire life!? He's Ernest Allen Poe, dammit, authority on all things literary and scholarly in the realm of Natalie's brain. Why was he not informed of this before?
Being of a curious nature, I looked up the word "sudden" in the dictionary. The definition as a noun begins with a single word in italics: Obsolete. It then goes on to define it as an unexpected occasion or occurrence, which makes sense.
But then you compare the understood meaning of the phrase "all of a sudden" to what you can derive from defining each word individually, "the entirety of an unexpected occurrence" and realize something is missing. I, for one, feel like the original phrase must have been "in all of a sudden", meaning in no more time than an instant.
But where did we lose the 'in'? And for a while, we had lost the 'all' too, as evidenced by The Age of Innocence. I'm aware that this may not be enthralling to everyone, but have you ever thought about how our language is changing? Is there a graveyard of words whose tombs say nothing but their names?
But back to the point. Sudden is considered obsolete as a noun, even though it's used frequently in that specific context. How often do we think about what we're actually saying? Or more importantly, how often do we speak without actually knowing what we're saying?
It's not that I'm upset by it. I just think it's interesting that in a few hundred years, people may not recognize our language anymore. They may speak numbers by then, who knows. Or better yet, they'll have discovered the secret to telepathy, or some weird meteor rocks will hit the earth giving everyone the superpower to communicate wordlessly.
Or I've just been watching too much Smallville. Ernest Allen Poe is face-palming. And again because I used face-palm.
I think it's a little sad that even after all this time, and all my mildly feminist tendencies, I still personify my scholarly spirit as a man. Not just a man, actually, but two. At a desk named for another man.
It's indicative of something, I just don't know what. I don't feel comfortable writing about the inner-workings of my psyche on the internet, though, so I'm just going to leave it at this.
As my dear friend ED suggested, I think I'll start a Dear Abby option. Sounds like fun, and I'd enjoy it immensely. Plus, it would give me something to write about so I can hopefully get a more consistent posting schedule instead of an erratic, "I'll post when the muse hits me" pattern.
If this is going to happen, there must be rules. And the rules which will follow must be followed, capiche?
1) You must address all queries to askdearnatalie@gmail.com
2) Per the norm, the email should begin with "Dear Natalie"
3) Come up with a clever name to sign off with, i.e. "[Adjective] in [Location]"
4) Please don't use any real names, otherwise I'll be forced to reassign them Power Ranger alter egos.
5) Make sure what you're writing about is appropriate for the blog. I reserve the right to disregard any undesirable posts.
6) I also reserve the right to post anything not specifically labeled as DO NOT PUBLISH.
7) In order to get an answer, you have to recommend my blog to someone. Uh huh. Yeah. I went there.
I think my thought well has run dry for the time being. I'm sure at some point in the near future, it will kick up again, so don't you worry your pretty striped head. No. 3 will happen eventually.
Something important to know is that I envision a man similar to Poe or Hemingway living in my head, poised at a Dickens desk with a pot of ink and either a quill or fountain pen, depending on the poetic nature of the words I'm processing, be it through reading or writing. (This, for instance, is a piece more suited for a pen than a quill.) Anyway, I imagine this scholarly figure, henceforth known as Ernest Allen Poe, looking up suddenly from his parchment in a moment of disbelief. How could he have glossed over that fact for his entire life!? He's Ernest Allen Poe, dammit, authority on all things literary and scholarly in the realm of Natalie's brain. Why was he not informed of this before?
Being of a curious nature, I looked up the word "sudden" in the dictionary. The definition as a noun begins with a single word in italics: Obsolete. It then goes on to define it as an unexpected occasion or occurrence, which makes sense.
But then you compare the understood meaning of the phrase "all of a sudden" to what you can derive from defining each word individually, "the entirety of an unexpected occurrence" and realize something is missing. I, for one, feel like the original phrase must have been "in all of a sudden", meaning in no more time than an instant.
But where did we lose the 'in'? And for a while, we had lost the 'all' too, as evidenced by The Age of Innocence. I'm aware that this may not be enthralling to everyone, but have you ever thought about how our language is changing? Is there a graveyard of words whose tombs say nothing but their names?
But back to the point. Sudden is considered obsolete as a noun, even though it's used frequently in that specific context. How often do we think about what we're actually saying? Or more importantly, how often do we speak without actually knowing what we're saying?
It's not that I'm upset by it. I just think it's interesting that in a few hundred years, people may not recognize our language anymore. They may speak numbers by then, who knows. Or better yet, they'll have discovered the secret to telepathy, or some weird meteor rocks will hit the earth giving everyone the superpower to communicate wordlessly.
Or I've just been watching too much Smallville. Ernest Allen Poe is face-palming. And again because I used face-palm.
Second
I think it's a little sad that even after all this time, and all my mildly feminist tendencies, I still personify my scholarly spirit as a man. Not just a man, actually, but two. At a desk named for another man.
It's indicative of something, I just don't know what. I don't feel comfortable writing about the inner-workings of my psyche on the internet, though, so I'm just going to leave it at this.
Third
As my dear friend ED suggested, I think I'll start a Dear Abby option. Sounds like fun, and I'd enjoy it immensely. Plus, it would give me something to write about so I can hopefully get a more consistent posting schedule instead of an erratic, "I'll post when the muse hits me" pattern.
If this is going to happen, there must be rules. And the rules which will follow must be followed, capiche?
1) You must address all queries to askdearnatalie@gmail.com
2) Per the norm, the email should begin with "Dear Natalie"
3) Come up with a clever name to sign off with, i.e. "[Adjective] in [Location]"
4) Please don't use any real names, otherwise I'll be forced to reassign them Power Ranger alter egos.
5) Make sure what you're writing about is appropriate for the blog. I reserve the right to disregard any undesirable posts.
6) I also reserve the right to post anything not specifically labeled as DO NOT PUBLISH.
7) In order to get an answer, you have to recommend my blog to someone. Uh huh. Yeah. I went there.
Fourth
In respect of Valentine's Day, I'll follow up my Love's Letters Lost post. I'm choosing to spend this Love Day with some of the friends I care most about. I made a choice a while back to not celebrate love that was unsure or dishonest. My guess is it was about the time Hemingway became a part of my psyche.
I don't believe in Singles Awareness Day. I'm single, but it doesn't bother me. I don't think today is about letting it be known that I'm not in a relationship. Today is about celebrating the spirit of love, and it comes in so many forms. Personally, I'll be reading more of history's greatest love letters and spending some quality time with other girls like me, who would rather be single.
I think what's hardest to explain is that I am in a committed relationship right now, with myself. Have been for 18 years. I've worked hard and long to make sure my life is something I could wake up to in the morning, and smile about when I go to sleep at night. And though it will never be done, my self-renovation is well underway.
So maybe it should be Singles Awareness Day, in that singles, reluctant or otherwise, can take an inventory and become aware of themselves. Because in most cases, when people take stock, they'll realize they can love themselves, and if someone can love himself, then others can too. It may be schmatlzy, and perhaps a little overdone, but it's because it's true, and yet there are still those who choose to disregard it. So I'm saying it again: having a solid relationship with one's self is the foundation for solid relationships with others. You've gotta start somewhere.
And to those of you in a dedicated relationship with someone else, I humbly encourage you to do the same anyway. All it will do is make your relationship stronger. The only difference is, you'll have to share what you find. That's my catch, sharing. I know that now.
So that's my bit, let Valentine's be about self love as much as love of others. My friend Chase writes a blog Chasing Somewhere, and in his last post, Singles Awareness Day, he makes a solid closing argument. Don't let your love be commercialized, let today stand as a declaration of the importance of love, that it is celebrated by its own holiday. Understand what it means to have a love so valuable it deserves its own day, and show it.
I don't believe in Singles Awareness Day. I'm single, but it doesn't bother me. I don't think today is about letting it be known that I'm not in a relationship. Today is about celebrating the spirit of love, and it comes in so many forms. Personally, I'll be reading more of history's greatest love letters and spending some quality time with other girls like me, who would rather be single.
I think what's hardest to explain is that I am in a committed relationship right now, with myself. Have been for 18 years. I've worked hard and long to make sure my life is something I could wake up to in the morning, and smile about when I go to sleep at night. And though it will never be done, my self-renovation is well underway.
So maybe it should be Singles Awareness Day, in that singles, reluctant or otherwise, can take an inventory and become aware of themselves. Because in most cases, when people take stock, they'll realize they can love themselves, and if someone can love himself, then others can too. It may be schmatlzy, and perhaps a little overdone, but it's because it's true, and yet there are still those who choose to disregard it. So I'm saying it again: having a solid relationship with one's self is the foundation for solid relationships with others. You've gotta start somewhere.
And to those of you in a dedicated relationship with someone else, I humbly encourage you to do the same anyway. All it will do is make your relationship stronger. The only difference is, you'll have to share what you find. That's my catch, sharing. I know that now.
So that's my bit, let Valentine's be about self love as much as love of others. My friend Chase writes a blog Chasing Somewhere, and in his last post, Singles Awareness Day, he makes a solid closing argument. Don't let your love be commercialized, let today stand as a declaration of the importance of love, that it is celebrated by its own holiday. Understand what it means to have a love so valuable it deserves its own day, and show it.
I think my thought well has run dry for the time being. I'm sure at some point in the near future, it will kick up again, so don't you worry your pretty striped head. No. 3 will happen eventually.
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