LITTLE ROCK — Dear Foreign Student,
It was wholly a pleasure to get your letter asking for the definition of a word that mystified you in one of our editorials: bloviation. What the heck does that mean, you asked—in the politest way, of course, as befits a visitor. Sometimes the manners of foreigners put ours to shame here in the land of the free, the home of the brazen.
You add that you often run across words on the editorial page that you can’t understand, or even find in your dictionary.
You needn’t be embarrassed; we get the same comment from native English speakers. That’s because we try to use the most exact word we can think of to make our point, even if the word is a rare one.
A confession: Sometimes we even make up a word to get our meaning across, confident our readers will get it. Or they’ll be able to puzzle it out. And might even derive some satisfaction from having a new word at their disposal. There’s nothing like having a word for something previously unarticulated. It comes in handy as a pocket on a shirt.
Coining words is another way to connect with Gentle Reader, and an editorial page can’t make enough such connections. Our aim is to be as much a part of folks’ breakfast in these parts as grits. Or if grits aren’t your favorite dish, ham ’n’ eggs or strawberries ’n’ cream or whatever you fancy.
Whether readers agree or disagree with our point of view matters less than whether we’re communicating with them in good faith, and good fellowship—and giving them something to think about, even laugh about.
From time to time, someone will tell me that “I don’t agree with a word you say, but I have to admit you say it well.” I’d much rather hear that than the other way ’round. (“I agree with everything you write, but how poorly you express it!”)
Bloviation is one of my favorite words, which may not come as a surprise in an editorial writer. It goes back at least as far as H.L. Mencken (1880-1956), an American journalist whose work appeared mainly in the Baltimore Sun in its heyday. It means extravagant oratory, rodomontade, inflated rhetoric . . . . As you can imagine, it has become near ’bout indispensable when describing political speech.
Bloviation’s similarity to ‘blow,’ as in blowhard, or blowing in the wind, is no coincidence, connoting as it does empty rhetoric. Another of Mr. Mencken’s informal words, similar in meaning, was gasbaggery. Which I hope is selfexplanatory. Both will surely remain relevant as long as politicians give speeches.
Mr. Mencken could be a pretty fair bloviator himself, at least in his old age. But when he was still young in years and spirit, he was a matchless critic of all things American. Consider his classic summary of Warren G. Harding’s rhetorical style:
“He writes the worst English that I have ever encountered. It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.’’
Mr. Mencken’s description of Mr. Harding’s oratorical effect, or lack of same, approaches art. That president’s prose brings to mind any number of editorials I’ve read and, much more frightening, some I’ve written.
The only sure cure for bloviation is a sense of humor, which tends to take the wind out of rhetorical sails and lend some balance to the craft. Mencken’s best stuff had both biting criticism and good humor, and the ideal editorial should have both. Unfortunately, too many editorials are delivered in one dull, unvarying tone, and nothing is more boring than a piece of rhetoric that never varies in timbre.
Only when he grew old and bitter, and his reactions reflexive, did Mencken cease to be interesting, that is, cease to be Mencken. Living too long can be an awful thing.
All the best to you, young friend. I wish Americans were as curious about other languages as you are about ours.
Glad to be of service,
Inky Wretch
—–––––
Paul Greenberg, editorial page editor of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, has been taking some time off. The original version of this column appeared February 27, 2005.
Editorial, Pages 19 on 12/19/2012