It's mailbag time! Bradford O'Connor of Lacey, Wash., asks for
a ruling on "quality" as an adjective, e.g., "that loaf of bread
is a quality product." The proper response is: Aaargh! In an
orderly world, "quality" would be treated with the respect that
is owed to a 600-year-old noun.
How did "quality" get to be an adjective? In 1936 or
thereabouts, the gurus of Merriam-Webster counted their citations
and declared that a rite of passage had occurred. "Quality" had
lost its virginity. After all these years, it's too late to undo
the done, but fastidious writers and editors will continue to
sniff at the usage.
The late great John Bremner, professor of journalism at the
University of Kansas, felt so strongly on the matter that many
years ago he posted a sign in his classroom: "Quality is NOT an
adjective!" Lexicographer Bryan Garner disdains the usage: "When
used as an adjective meaning 'of high quality,' this is a vogue
word in a class with 'cutting edge,' 'gravitas,' 'quantum leap'
and 'meaningful.'"
In their Dictionary of Contemporary Usage (1985), William and
Mary Morris were more tolerant: "Some people," they said, object
to treating "quality" as an adjective, "but it is standard
practice in English." Well, kindly count this critic among the
"some people." Our name is Legion, to coin a phrase, because we
are many.
Tom Jones (real name) of Tucson, Ariz., asks for comment on
degrees of unclothedness. A young woman's "nude body" had been
found in the nearby mountains. Out of "prurient curiosity," he
inquires about acceptable usage. Specifically, what's the
difference between "nude" and "naked"?
What to say? Every male lover of language begins looking up
dirty words at age 6 or 7 and gets to "nude" and "nudity" before
he's 8. The distinctions are of academic interest.
Merriam-Webster's first definition of "nude" evidently was
drafted by a 90-year-old monk who worked from a carrel in Tibet.
It reads: "lacking something essential to legal validity, e.g., a
nude contract." There are times, honestly, when dear old M-W is
no help at all. Other lexicographers lead us to such distant
synonyms as "bald," "barren," "starkers," "in the buff" and
"without a stitch."
The workhorse word, of course, is plain-vanilla "naked."
Remarkably, Bartlett's Quotations offers 49 citations of "naked"
and not a single one of "nude." The most famous of these goes
back to the Garden of Eden, where the first couple "were both
naked and were not ashamed." Shakespeare lent the adjective to
Richard III: "... And thus I clothe my naked villainy." Goya
painted his "Naked Maja," a lady who might usefully have shed a
few redundant pounds.
Manifestly, "naked" and "nude" are seldom interchangeable. It
never would have occurred to Shakespeare to write about Richard's
"nude" villainy. The line would not have scanned. References to
the "nude truth" lose their sting. Writers learn such
distinctions in their cradles. Moll Flanders was naked; Lady
Godiva was nude.
Bud Weil of Las Vegas writes to ask about "free gift" and "for
free." Viewed under the cold light of grammatical analysis, the
phrases are patently redundant. It would be a strange kind of
gift that was not "free." And the fawning "for" adds nothing to
the 13th oyster on the platter. That beautiful bivalve was born
"free" and comes to the table the same way: i.e., built into the
eye-popping price on the seafood menu.
|