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November 23, 2004
Pelling Pounds Pedant into Submission
I am aware that I sound pedantic at times, and I do apologise for that (while I'm at it, I'll also apologise for my use of British spelling, which I've adopted mainly to annoy two specific readers, who know who they are). In my defence, I can only point to a constitutional inablility to resist commenting on the mistakes, inaccuracy and poor writing that I see almost daily in the press.
Take the work of Rowan Pelling, for example. She's apparently quite well known over here, though I had never heard of her until I recently started reading the Independent (because I'm lazy, and there's so much easy grist in its pages).
Since I've first become aware of her - through noting with amusement her ignorant misuse of the word "gainsay" - I've learned that she is in fact past editor of something called the Erotic Review, which purports to bring erotic writing to the intelligentsia. More recently, she's been pressed into service as a judge of the prestigious Booker Prize for literature, as she repeatedly reminded us this summer.
Incidentally, the first of those last three links is almost worth the £1 it costs to access. In it, Pelling complains of suffering from "judges' tristesse" - a depression, tinged with guilt, that afflicts literary prize givers after they make an award. In Rowan's case, the tristesse was particularly bad, since she was the very, very most important judge of all - the "Florida" of judges, as she put it (referring to that state's role in the 2000 US elections).
I admit to wondering what she was going to write about once the Booker had been awarded, given the frequency with which she addressed that topic (and, more importantly, her role as judge). In fact, I was afraid that the tristesse would weigh so heavily upon her that she'd be forced to give up writing entirely.
Thankfully I needn't have worried - she reappears in the pages of yesterday's Evening Standard, having secured a job reviewing Love for Sale: A Global History of Prostitution. The post-Booker Pelling has lost none of her punch, and she mercilessly hits the reader with one shot after another.
Wasting no time, she lets us have it right from the opening bell, with a couple of glancing jabs:
"Legend has it that the Innuits have several hundred words for snow."
Since she at least says "legend has it," the opening combination isn't terribly painful - though including as it does the jarring variant spelling "Innuits," it does impart a bit of a sting.
But the opening jabs soften us up for this:
"In the Hindu kingdoms of India in the last centuries BC, there were more than 300 different Sanskrit words for prostitute. I suppose that amply illustrates the cultural differences between people of hot and cold climes."
Of course, it illustrates exactly nothing at all, not least because the first half of the comparison is so completely spurious. Nils Ringal, author of the book being reviewed, will no doubt be irritated that his factual nugget is sullied by the juxtaposition with one that's been so frequently debunked.
Second paragraph. The hapless reader is hit with:
"Ringal's comprehensive study of turning tricks is equally compelling in its broader picture, whisking the reader from the temple prostitutes of Mesopotamia to the New York Mayfair Madam ..."
Who is this 'Mayfair Madam', one wonders? Ms. Pelling, like her headline writer, seems to think that we'll all get the reference, but I've never heard of her. Either I don't know enough about prostitutes, or Rowan is inaccurately referring to the Mayflower Madam, who was all over the New York papers in the mid-80s.
Although it's distressing to imagine the former Erotic Review editor making such an error, it is again no knockout punch in and of itself - but we're feeling just a tad woozy so early into the column.
Third paragraph:
"He points out that Polynesian women, for example, have almost no concept of selling their favours when they can bestow them freely where they please and without censor."
Censor/censure! Ouch - that one hurts! It might draw only a wince if seen in a freshman essay, but from the "Florida of the Booker Prize" it draws blood - the reader, still reeling from the jabs just thrown, staggers.
Staggers, but carries gamely on - to the next paragraph:
"Prostitutes enjoyed some form of legislative protection and paid taxes in civilisations ranging from Chandragupta's Indian empire of 4BC ..."
Or maybe it was the 4th century BC. But what difference does it make? The fight is lost - after four such shots in four paragraphs, the reader is well and truly on the ropes, with no choice but to assume a defensive posture - dreading the next error (logical, linguistic or factual), and doubting every single assertion that Ms. Pelling makes.
November 23, 2004 | Permalink
Comments
My favorite quote from Ms. Biddle Barrows:
"Never say anything on the phone that you wouldn't want your mother to hear at your trial."
BTW, Ms. Pelling should check out this info on the folks of Polynesia...she might find it - um - interesting...
Posted by: arlye at Nov 23, 2004 2:33:34 PM
The Mayflower Madam has relatives here in Princeton. The Convent Station Madam lived in Morris Township and used to be a real estate agent before the property values went down.
Never heard of the Mayfair Madam but maybe E. F. Benson might have included her in The freaks of Mayfair
Posted by: Fausta at Nov 23, 2004 3:36:20 PM
Ms. Pelling's "The Decadent Handbook" informs the decadence challenged among us "how to run a brothel, arouse your pets and rollerblade decadently". You may not see the connection immediately, but when you start charging by dog hours you'll be roller blading decadently all the way to the bank.
Posted by: Frank at Nov 23, 2004 4:00:06 PM
Fausta, completely OT, is the Alchemist and Barrister still on Witherspoon Street?
Posted by: arlye at Nov 23, 2004 4:13:49 PM
Hmm. I wonder if she has included any of my postings in her research?
Posted by: Tim Newman at Nov 24, 2004 4:33:46 AM
Arlye, yes, the A&B's still on Witherspoon, and continues to do great business.
Another good spot in town is Triumph Brewery, but I don't know if you've been there. They're serving pumpkin ale for Thanksgiving.
Posted by: Fausta at Nov 24, 2004 8:10:10 PM
Your killing me Scott!
Funny stuff man.
Posted by: Arvin at Nov 27, 2004 10:31:07 AM