Customer Reviews

Buckley: The Right Word (Harvest Book)

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When I first became an avid reader of Mr. Buckley's work I was amazed at how often his use of words was attacked. I wondered whether a new crime bill had been passed that outlawed a person being articulate. Why should someone who joyfully uses language be pilloried for doing so? Even commercial reviewers feel the need to go to their thesaurus, trot out words that they have never used before and look foolish. They become guilty of the offense of affectation that so often is the charge against Mr. Buckley.

This collection of writing, and with it the discussion of language is many things, at no point is it not worthy of the reader's time. For all on Amazon who write their thoughts about a book, there is a section on reviewing that is priceless. The correspondence that is shared between his readers and Mr. Buckley set the standard for wit.

What is the alternative his detractors seek? Perhaps one of those books "English For Dummies?" I suppose a minimal number of words, subsidized with hand signals and grunts would please some. I choose to adhere to Mr. Buckley's love of language, even though when he is the writer I am often reduced to flipping through a dictionary. So what! The decriminalization of learning was passed long ago. Freedom of speech includes the right to expand your vocabulary in the pursuit of your happiness. To the extent others are bothered, again, so what? Apathy may have become a national pastime, but it is not required.

This book was carefully titled. I don't mean to shock his detractors but Mr. Buckley is a Conservative, so "right" was the only alternative for the title. Correct, appropriate, acceptable, could never do for this master of language. He uses a word because it works, because his choice enhances the reading and listening experience.

Grab a dictionary, expand your lexicon, the pain is minimal.

This book by William F. Buckley is a greatly entertaining piece to those who enjoy the trivial points of the English Language. It explores all areas of the language, such as diction, speaking style and the most common abuses of our language. My favorite part of the book is Buckley's series of letters from some of his readers. These letters provide insight to the personality of Buckley and also show his unforgiving grasp of the English language.

I read this book earlier this year. Because of this book I have discovered Jorge Luis Borges. Because of this book I recently ordered Kilpatrick's "The Writer's Art". I discovered things about Buckley that I did not know. I knew about the CIA stuff, but I did not know about his MexicAnglo childhood. I now listen to the way he speaks when I see him on TV and wonder what was the effect on me of speaking two other languages before English. I consider English my normal language of communication at this point in my life.

One of the most enjoyable excerpts was the letter about his mother. A tear came to my eye.

The letters between he and "Kilpo" were amusing.

The interview with Borges was illuminating.

I often look at a book and evaluate the book in light of whether it excites me enough to read other books on the topic. Many books close a topic for me. This one opened all sorts of doorways.

Do not be misled by the submission from ¨A reader from Wichita, KS, March 9, 1999.¨ It is highly questionable that this ¨reader¨ actually read the book. This person states that ¨The Right Word¨ is a ¨narcissitic essay¨ in which Buckley writes ¨with the premise that he is the world's greatest living writer.¨ The fact is that Buckley had no such premise because this book was not even his idea. The book was the brainchild of his editor of many years, Samuel S. Vaughan. This wonderful book is not an essay at all, as the ¨reader¨ claims, but a compilation of many splendid examples of exquisite English usage. This book contains many incidents in which Buckley awakens dormant words and asks them to come out and play for a while, thereby preserving words ¨that were generated at some point by someone because the need arose¨ (loosely quoted). This book is a true verbal feast of which all linguaphiles are encouraged to partake. Even if you are not a linguaphile and you are staunchly opposed to Buckley's politics, this book still goes highly recommended. If a book concerning masterful usage of language is what you are searching for, why settle for verisimilitude when you can learn from the virtuoso himself, William F. Buckley, Jr.

No politics (? ) and great penmanship. Even a few tips on wordprocessing, writing fast, foreign words, reading Fowler, and on how to remain civil when virulent letters are in hand. Email hacks: see what a real correspondence can be <grin>; the generous excerpts are funny, enlightening, polite beyond words. Right again, Bill.

Buckley: The Right Word by or rather selected, assembled and edited by Samuel S. Vaughan drawn from the works of William F. Buckley, Jr. is a book quite unique in its own right.

It is composed of letters and excerpts of interviews, reviews, columns, and appreciations. As the title suggests, it is a book about words as seen by Buckley and especially on the right word. Buckley is noted for his provocative and rather expansive vocabulary and this book is no disappointment. Also, grammer is well represented. I found this book to interestingly entertaining with a modicum of dry humor and wit.

If you like to be entertained by the right word or phrase, this is the book for you. I especially liked the correspondence.

Dear WFB:

Thanks. Fowler is no longer alone.

Cordially,

While I do not often feel the call to defend Buckley, the statement by the previous reviewer that someone must be a native speaker to speak with authority to be incredibly naïve. After all, you don't have to agree with Chomsky's politics to appreciate his take on Cartesian linguisitcs, right? Not only have some of the most accomplished writers in modernity written outside of their language (Nabokov and Conrad writing in English, and Beckett writing in French come to mind) But this position would eviscerate many branches of linguistics, such as translation studies (See "Le Ton Beau De Marot : In Praise of the Music of Language"). Even this is not to mention the effect that Levi-Strauss, Derrida, and others have had on the English-speaking world's understanding of language. Whatever else you can say about Buckley, he knows his English.

If you enjoy good writing about writing, then this is one book you should have. Buckley's clear, erudite use of language discussing the art of writing, past colums, belles-lettres, and more should be an inspiration to anyone who enjoys fine writing. Whether you enjoy Buckley because of his reputation as a political commentator or his writing style, or if you simply aspire to be a better writer, this book from one of the modern masters is a true must have!

Music petrified in stone. That's how Madame de Stael described St. Peter's in Rome, and how I shall have to describe the supple iridescent prose of William F. Buckley, Jr., at its best. Publisher, editor, writer; Firing Line host, bete noire of established opinion, consumate party host; adviser to presidents, conservative totem, New York City mayoral candidate -- Buckley is all of these and more. Foremost he is a writer of uncommon grace and wit. He can be caustic -- to Gary Wills' assertion that Lillian Hellman was America's greatest female playwright, Buckley retorted that that was on the order of finding the tallest building in Wichita, Kansas -- but he can also be magnificent in his praise of fellow writers. He calls Tom Wolfe a "virtuoso," "the most skillful writer in America," who can "do more things with words than anyone else." No less to his ideological opposites is Buckley generous. John Le Carre is a "writer of great powers" and "His entertainment is of a high order." On John Updike's novel "The Coup," Buckley is lavish: "If one did not know [who wrote it], and went through The Coup, it would I think drive the reader mad guessing the name of its author. Except that geniuses collaborate only on behalf of Medici, and they are dead, one would think that this novel was written by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, to whom descriptions of the wind, the sand, and the stars were assigned; Lawrence Durrell (smells, sensuality); Gabriel Garcia Marquez (tribal life); Mary Renault (exotic evocation); and Vladimir Nabokov (philological radiance). If one goes on to ask the question, Would one want to read a single novel composed by these writers, the answer is: John Updike proves that the answer is yes, God, yes."

Throughout this collection of his belles lettres, Buckley's wit shines through. He would insist on me calling him a "witty," and not merely a "funny," man. There is a difference. We might say that a witty man is a funny man with an idea. And Buckley's ideas are clear. This bravura passage, from an essay on the new liturgy of the Catholic communion, will prove my point, I hope, beyond peradventure: "The next liturgical ceremony conducted primarily for my benefit, since I have no plans to be beatified or remarried, will be my funeral; and it is a source of great consolation to me that, at that event, I shall be quite dead, and will not need to listen to the accepted replacement for the noble old Latin liturgy. Meanwhile, I am practicing yoga so that at church on Sundays I can develop the power to tune out everything I hear, while attempting, athwart the general calisthenics, to commune with my Maker, and ask Him to forgive me my own sins, and implore him, second, not to forgive the people who ruined the mass."