"Tragedy" has become another nearly meaningless word. It used to be reserved for events of mass casualties and deep suffering. Now it’s applied to stories ranging from lost puppies to quarterly earnings reports. The adage (attributed to Stalin) comes to mind: "The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic."
The real tragedy is the demise of intelligent self-expression, a consequence of our shriveling vocabularies.
Well may we cringe listening to contemporary blather, especially superlatives like "unbelievable," which should properly be used to describe politicians.
Sometimes this national obsession with superlatives does a genuine disservice. Wherever did we get the idea that everyone who serves in the military is a hero? Heroism demands an act of valor.
A retired US Navy captain I know put it best: "Heroes are selfless warriors who risk their lives and often give their lives so others may live. There are plenty of warriors and wannabes, but very few genuine heroes." Do as the British (sometime) do
If Americans insist on anointing themselves with superlatives, they should at least strive to imitate the British, who are the true masters of exaggeration.
The late historian Barbara Tuchman was spot on: "No nation has ever produced a military history of such verbal nobility as the British.... There is no shrinking from superlatives.... Everyone is splendid: soldiers are staunch, commanders cool, the fighting magnificent."
Years later Tuchman told me nothing she ever wrote received such an overwhelmingly favorable response as that passage.
But rather than imitating British hyperbole, Americans would do well to master the art of understatement and dry wit, the other speaking technique at which the British excel.
In the film "A Hard Day’s Night," John Lennon was asked by an inquiring reporter about his impressions of the United States.
"How did you find America?" Lennon was asked.
Turn left at Greenland," he replied. |
