The Split Infinitive

There has never been any argument in our household over the subject of the split infinitive and the need at all cost to one's grammatical reputation to avoid so doing.  One of the things about blogging with pedants for friends is that one is constantly aware of the need for observing the rules at least to a respectable degree.   A while ago I was chatting to Wendy over something or other unrelated to the split infinitive when the topic arose.  Now Wendy is a child of the sixties and split infinitives have not featured highly in her (considerable - a lawyer with a degree in Social Science) education.  After having explained the 'rule' the matter rested.  Until a few days ago when I was handed a piece of paper duly exploding the 'superstition' of the split infinitive.

The following is from the Oxford Dictionaries website:

This is a split infinitive:

To boldly go where no man has gone before!

The infinitive is to go, and it has been 'split' by the adverb boldly. Split infinitives have been the cause of much controversy among teachers and grammarians, but the notion that they are ungrammatical is simply a myth: in his famous book Modern English Usage, Henry Fowler listed them among 'superstitions'! Split infinitives are frequently poor style, but they are not strictly bad grammar. 

In the example above, to avoid the split infinitive would result either in weakness (to go boldly) or over-formality (boldly to go): either would ruin the rhythmic force and rhetorical pattern of the original. It is probably good practice to avoid split infinitives in formal writing, but clumsy attempts to avoid them simply by shuffling adverbs about can create far worse sentences.

Oh dear Scriptor Senex.  Oh dear Marcel.  Oh dear John Allison.  Oh dear...... there are so many of us out there.  It does look as though we have been mistaken.  Unless anyone knows something to the contrary................ 

Blog Layout Under Revision

It has amazed me how, in the two months and eleven days since I left Scotland, the format of my blog in New Zealand has altered and how many additions there have been to the gadgets in the side column.  As I have decided to continue using Eagleton Notes for some postings which are not really within the scope of my Hebridean in New Zealand I have decided also to update this Blog and I shall be doing that over the next few weeks.  So things might look a bit odd or duplicated or go missing.  Hopefully all will be well when the revision is finished.  If any reader has suggestions which they feel would make things easier please send me a comment or email.

One of the things which I have done is remove comment moderation.  If, by any chance, I start getting inappropriate comments (which I have so far avoided) I may have to re-consider but I have noticed that many websites I visit don't moderate them.  They can, of course, always be removed by me later if I don't feel that they are appropriate.

Motherless

Last October I blogged about a sculpture in the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery in Glasgow to which I took a real fancy.  I thought it was one of the most moving sculptures I'd ever seen.  As I hadn't made a note of the title nor the sculptor nor could I find any details of it on the Kelvingrove website, I simply called it Father and Child.  Two things happened today.  I read Simply Heather's posting Cultivating Flourishing Appreciation and Martin came back from Scotland having been to the Kelvingrove and looked up the information for me.  The title of the piece is Motherless and it is by George Anderson Lawson (1832 - 1904).

Hugh Stevenson, Sculpture Curator, kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery has said of the piece on the Relicarte website:

The heart-rending sculpture by George Lawson has been a firm favourite among visitors since being bought for Kelvingrove in 1901. The story behind the ensemble of the sad little girl in the arms of her distraught father needs no explanation apart from the title Motherless. One can only speculate how mother met her end – in a tragic accident perhaps, or in one of the epidemics that swept Victorian Britain.

The popularity of this piece is guaranteed by its appeal to the emotions. It is by far the best-known work by Scottish sculptor George Lawson; in fact it is probably the only work known to most people by the man who was responsible for the figure groups on the front of Glasgow’s City Chambers.

What is the relevance of Heather's posting and and why did it prompt this posting?  The fact that she had found a wonderful statue of a child.

Life is just so full of coincidences.

Thumbs

My brother has just blogged about his thumbs after all doesn't everyone do just that. Whilst I knew that my brother and I had similar thumb characteristics I had not realised that it was particularly unusual. As I couldn't show a picture as a comment on Scriptor Senex's blog I've dragooned Eagleton Notes into service. In fact I think that I will probably continue with odd additions to the Notes from time to time for subjects which don't fit into my Hebridean in New Zealand blog.