If the misuse of “grammar” provokes the “disgusted of Tunbridge Wells” in most people, it is paradoxically their ranting which reduces me to apoplexy. It is the tone of smug superiority of the “in my day everyone could compose verse in Greek” attitude that makes me want to burn down the suburban villas where these people live. Journalists who show off by using “whom” but then get it wrong are the first to criticise.
“Grammar” is the convenience word which is code for any kind of mistake in spelling, punctuation, syntax, vocabulary or any solecism in general. I heard a story about an A-level marker who refused to give an A to any candidate who misused the semi-colon. At a meeting of heads of English 15 years ago, six out of eight in a discussion group admitted they did not understand it when I said “the subject must agree with the verb”.
The inevitable consequence of this historical muddle we call English is the attachment of each one of us to our own amour-propre. Some people write articles and letters about the “floating apostrophe”; I think, as did George Bernard Shaw, we would be better off without apostrophes. Which is all harmless fun until it assumes disproportionate importance.
The imposition of the literacy strategy, however, may be playing into the hands of those who think that ostentation is everything.
Let me explain. Some years ago I was with 20 MA students who were not English specialists. They were asked to grade some essays, one of which was typed, immaculately spelled and punctuated and totally empty of content. Most people thought it worth a grade C at GCSE level. In its original form it was written in almost illegible handwriting by an almost illiterate candidate, but the assessors had been taken in by its presentation.
This emphasis on the superficial is encouraged by the literacy movement and its proponents. It is a perfect political tool for imposing a measurable, standardised and controllable methodology.
Meanwhile, English teaching is being defined, yet again, and this time in the image of those practitioners, chalk and talk, who were so derided 20 years ago but whose methods real teachers have continued to use.
There is no recipe for teaching effectively. Breaking an hour up into its component parts may work, but to suggest it is how every lesson should be organised is dangerous, based, as it is, on the insulting notion that “children” only have short concentration spans. Even if that were true, surely the task of the good teacher is to teach children to increase that span?
My favourite story about the importance of grammar concerns the Mullah Nasrudin, who was working as a river ferry pilot when a famous pedagogue arrived. “Watch out for them ropes,” warned Nasrudin.
“Those ropes,” corrected the pedagogue. “Did you never study grammar?” “I was too poor to go to school,” replied Nasrudin.
“In that case, you have wasted half of your life,” announced the teacher.
During the crossing the boat capsized. “Help!” shouted the pedagogue.
“Did you never learn to swim?” asked Nasrudin.
“No, I was too busy with my books.”
“In that case, you’ve wasted all of your life.”
Kevin Fitzsimons is head of English at a comprehensive in Hull
