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The Penguin Dictionary of American English Usage and Style

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Reference books don't usually serve as bedtime reading or the topic of controversy. Here is an exception. "The Penguin Dictionary of American English Usage and Style," by Paul W. Lovinger, is unusually readable and thought-provoking for a book labeled "dictionary."

It clashes with those lexicographers and theorists who contend that speakers of a language cannot go wrong, that many verbal wrongs make a right. Examples of those wrongs are the use of "infer" instead of "imply," and "flaunt" instead of "flout," which some dictionaries accept. In an introductory section headed "Save the Language," it borrows the rhetoric of the environmental movement to warn that English is losing indispensable words because of misuse.

The Penguin Dictionary disavows purism or pedantry--for instance, it does not flatly condemn split infinitives or ending sentences with prepositions. "But it does value precision over fashion, logic over illogic, and grammatical correctness over 'political correctness'" (from the introduction). A good example is from the book's discussion of pronouns and number: Drawing from the abortion controversy, it quotes an advocate of "an individual's right to make a choice about their individual lives"--instead of "her individual life." Comment: "Having erroneously associated 'individual' with 'their,' the speaker proceeded to give that individual a number of 'lives.'" The quotation, incidentally, is one of some 2,000 in the book.

(The count excludes made-up examples, the introduction says-- contrary to the intimation of a reader. He wants the book to be fatter and include a list of sources. That would increase its price but not its usefulness. It has over 500 pages, with the front matter. By the way, another reader condemns the whole book because he disagrees with a statement under "reason, 2." But that sub-entry presents differing views, and most readers should find it reasonable and balanced.)

In exceptionally clear language, this A-Z guide to good English explains principles of grammar and style (such as the parts of speech, active and passive voice, infinitives, modifiers, plurals, punctuation, and tense). It deals with distinctive words that are often misused (e.g., alibi, bemuse, connive, desecrate, dilemma, fortuitous, idyllic, literally, transpire, and unique) and confusing pairs (e.g., can-may, disinterested-uninterested, emigrate-immigrate, eminent-imminent, masterful-masterly, may-might, nauseated-nauseous, prescribe-proscribe, respectable-respectful, that-which, and perhaps the biggest puzzle: who-whom).

Some of Lovinger's entry topics--like Fowler's--are quirky: anachronisms, backward writing, cliché clash, dehumanization, guilt and innocence, joining of words, metaphoric contradiction, quotation problems, range (true and false), reversal of meaning, series errors, synonymic silliness, and verbal unmentionables.

The only objection I have is to the title of "The Penguin Dictionary of American English Usage and Style," a mouthful that does not do justice to the liveliness of this volume and could fool people into mistaking it for some stuffy tome on a reference shelf. Humor is sprinkled throughout the book. In an entry on mixed-up clichés, a TV panelist is quoted: "We really have no evidence that Bill Clinton is going to step up to the plate...and really take the bull by the horns." The author comments that maybe the president would have been inspired by a rousing chorus of "Take Me Out to the Bullfight."

This is the most amazingly bad usage manual I know of. The problem is not that Lovinger gives conventional advice, though he does. He can be relied upon to give the company line for most of the usual suspects. The problem is that he tries to go beyond this. He has entries for many words not found in other manuals. This would be a point in his favor were he not wholly incompetent to make original judgments.

The possible examples are myriad, but a few will have to serve. Lovinger is weak in English grammar, as illustrated in his entry for "Broadside". He criticizes "A Union Pacific train slammed broadside...into a station wagon..." on the grounds that "unless it leaves its track, a train is not likely to hit anything 'broadside'." This apparently is based on the false belief that an adverb cannot refer to a characteristic of the object of the verb. For example, in "John carefully measured the room" carefulness is a characteristic of John. But in "John measured the room lengthwise" it is the room which is lengthwise, not John. The two constructions can even be combined in one sentence: "John carefully measured the room lengthwise." So Lovinger has implicitly invented a bogus rule of English grammar.

Even when he gives correct information it is often in a very unhelpful way. In the article "Plurals and singulars" he notes, correctly, that "coffee, fruit, silk, steel, tea, wheat, and wool are treated as singular except when different types or varieties are considred; then s is affixes and it becomes plural." This would naturally lead to a discussion of mass and count nouns, but no such discussion is to be found. (He has a discussion elsewhere of collective nouns, but collective nouns are not the same as mass nouns.) These words are listed in the sub-entry of "Creatures; peculiarities". This gives the strong impression that Lovinger thinks that mass nouns are an exception rather than a predictable pattern, and that they are restricted to "creatures". At best the unsuspecting reader has an arbitrary list of words to memorize.

In the quest to find errors to correct Lovinger frequently fails to read what was actually written. In the entry for "Yiddish" there is this:

"A general's autobiography tells of Jamaican family friends 'so close they were considred relatives. 'Mammale and Pappale' we called them. Don't ask me why the Jewish diminutives.' The precise modifier would have been 'Yiddish,' pertaining to the language. 'Jewish' is not a language and not a synonym for 'Yiddish,' although using it that way is a common mistake, rather than a blunder."

Apart from the mysterious distinction between "a common mistake" and "a blunder" everything Lovinger wrote there is true and irrelevant. Nothing in the general's text suggests that he is using "Yiddish" as synonymous with "Jewish". The Yiddish language is a subset of Jewish culture: while not all that is Jewish is Yiddish, that which is Yiddish is Jewish. So it is perfectly accurate to characterize a Yiddish diminutive as being "Jewish". Continuing on with the entry, there is this:

"Later in the book we read 'In Jerusalem my counterpart..., the Israeli chief of staff, threw a party for me, at which I surprised the guests with some Bronx-acquired Yiddish.' Did the general think that Yiddish was the official language of Israel? It is Hebrew."

There is nothing in the quoted text to suggest that the general was at all confused on this point. All that we can infer is that he believed the guests at the party to be surprised by his knowledge of Yiddish. We might suspect that he believed that they would find his knowledge of Yiddish more relevant to them than had he displayed a knowledge of, say, Navajo; he was likely correct in this. The official language of Israel only enters into play in Lovinger's imagination.

Lovinger is pedantic in the way that gives pedantry a bad name. Under "Fantastic" he criticizes an introduction to a performance of a Bach prelude and fugue which "called it a 'fantastic' piece. In the context in which it was used, the word could have meant charteristic of a fantasia." Who is going to be confused by this? The listener unfamiliar with musical forms will not make the association and so will correctly interpret the adjective. The listener familiar with musical forms knows that a fugue is completely unlike a fantasia, and so will correctly interpret the adjective. The only listener who will be confused is the one working his way through the music dictionary and currently midway through the letter "f".

Next is the truly offensive aspect of the book. The mandate of a usage manual is to advise the reader how to express thoughts well. There is a fine line between this and the manual advising the reader which thoughts ought or ought not be expressed. Lovinger blithely crosses this line without looking back. Under "Daring" he criticizes a news report of "a daring escape from a medium-security facility" on the grounds that "'daring' is a word of praise; it commends one's adventurousness, initiative, boldness, and fearlessness in a risky endeavor....a beter [adjective] would have been 'brazen' or 'imitative'. (The method of escape, by helicopter, had been used before and, still earlier, portrayed in a movie.)" There is no pretense of providing a better way of expressing the thought. Rather, this is a blatant attempt at crude censorship.

Here is one last example, illustrating Lovinger's tin ear and propensity for making up rules. Under "Zero and O" we are told that the number should not be pronounced "oh" but rather is "zero" or "cipher" or "naught". The "oh" pronunciation has been perfectly standard English for the past four centuries, so far as I can tell without evoking complaint. Lovinger criticizes an announcer for pronouncing the numbers in the television program "Beverly Hills 90210" as "nine oh two one oh." Umm.... Yeah, right.

The reader who wants a recent collection of standard conservative usage manual opinion would do much better with Bryan Garner's "Dictionary of Modern American Usage". The reader unafraid to confront actual evidence even if it might contradict the received wisdom should get "Merriam Webster's Dictionary of English Usage." The Penguin Dictionary should be avoided except as a curiosity.

I bought both Lovinger's book and Bryan A. Garner's book (Oxford UP) for a reference library, and I find Garner's book much more thorough. Just opening up both books and comparing the type sizes and layouts shows how much more information is packed into Garner's book than Lovinger's. Garner is also meticulous about citing where he found his examples. The citations give the usage heft very much like the historical examples given for definitions in the OED. To be fair, Lovinger provides good examples, too, but they don't include the citation and are probably constructions of the author rather than real-world examples. Garner's book stands taller than Lovinger's because it also includes rehtorical and grammatical entries as well as word and usage entries. You won't find an entry for "ergative verbs" or "etymology" or "euphuism," to name just a random few from the Es. Wouldn't you rather have a usage dictionary that contains such things in case you ever want to know more about them? For these reasons, I'd say go with Garner's book.

For those of us a little less versed in journalistic writing, this book is a very good guide as well as a great read! (And if you ARE a journalist, you could probably stand to learn a thing or two.) I pick up this book, open it to any random page, and start reading. The entries are informative and funny. The examples of how NOT to write are great. Some of them are a little subjective, such as the "sultry" eggplant. But others are accurate reminders, such as the point that refugees do not "burgeon." I also learned the difference between lecturn and podium. Do you know the difference? Most of America does not!

Every book on English usage should be read skeptically to some degree or other, but this one more than most. My main complaint is the same as that of others: Lovinger tries too hard to find errors, to the point that he finds them where they aren't. A lot. There are examples on nearly every page. Which I will illustrate by opening the book at random, and giving at least one example from whichever page I open to.

OK, page 280. First part is a lament about the use of "output" in nontechnical contexts. It's a fair point about style, if it's taken merely as a warning about potentially awkward or off-putting usage. His example of a student who was said to be handicapped in "his ability to output the information" seems a good example of a poor use of the word, though I can see why it was tempting to use it. The writer was probably thinking of the student as receiving an "input" of information and retaining it but just not being able to spit it back out right (so to speak). It's hard to think of another word that expresses that idea of returning information and doesn't also sound a bit off. "Regurgitate" would fit, but .... Lovinger suggests "express," which might have been better but doesn't suggest as well the idea of returning what was taken in. Still, "output" retains enough of its technical baggage to make it sound like the student is being seen rather mechanically. So I don't object to Lovinger on that point.

Then he has a section on the word "outrageous." This offers a good example of a mistake that characterizes his general approach throughout the book. He just understands the word too narrowly, as having only negative connotations. He objects to describing the 1939 Golden Gate Exposition as "outrageously spectacular." Yet the first definition of "outrageous" in the current Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary is the neutral "exceeding the limits of what is usual." In this case, the word's associations with indecency and offensiveness may be intended to color the description of what may have been perceived as exceeding the bounds of proper taste and use of human resources. In any case, it's not obvious that the word was used improperly or with any less than full precision. A similar point applies to his other example, about an ad for "outrageous deals."

On the same page he completely derails by confusing etymology with current meaning. Yes, "oval" comes from the Latin for "egg," but he's just nuts to suppose it's objectionable to use "oval" for "elliptical" on the argument that an ellipse isn't truly egg-shaped, i.e. wider at one end than the other. He complains, "A number of modern dictionaries have legitimated the misemployment, thereby contributing further to it." I'd be surprised if any current dictionary doesn't allow for this usage. For one thing, not all eggs are wider at one end, not even most. That is the most common shape of the bird eggs we see most often, which are probably the first eggs we think of, so one could argue it's the prototypical shape the word should stand for. But it's way too late to make that argument. The current usage is logical enough and very well established. Is the "Oval Office" egg-shaped or is it elliptical? We can always resort to "egg-shaped" if we need to distinguish the prototypical egg shape from an ellipse.

Try any other page and you're likely to see more of the same. The book remains useful in that it does make many good points. Lovinger is capable of being very reasonable and helpful, as he is in regard to split infinitives and prepositions at the ends of sentences. Even when he gets carried away it often raises points that one might do well to be sensitive to in some cases. But take what Lovinger gives you with a grain of salt, knowing that he's inclined to be too narrow, and sometimes just wrong.

There is a large-print edition of the book here.

I got "The Penguin Dictionary of American English Usage and Style" to help me with my writing. I wanted to avoid mistakes such as using "lay instead of lie" and "farther" instead of "further." And I wanted to be able to use a semicolon correctly and know the difference between a dash and a hyphen. The book helped me with all those problems and more.

As I read the entries I discovered the book's wit and humor and I ended up reading it from cover to cover -- from "A and An," to Zero In." I thoroughly enjoyed myself. This book is a valuable tool that is fun to use.

Many usage dictionaries exist, and all careful writers and speakers need one in an age when seemingly anything goes even in formal settings. The problem is which to use. The Penguin Dictionary may not be the best but is one of the easiest to find and less expensive than many. It is also more than adequate for most purposes; nearly all traditional grammatical and mechanical hang-ups are here, and Paul Lovinger goes out of his way to include many entries found in few or other places. Quite a few are clearly pet peeves, but some are very useful. Unlike many usage dictionaries, especially older ones, this also has invaluable guides to current problems such as how to avoid offending various groups. Some may dismiss this as the kind of political correctness that does not belong in such a book, but Lovinger claims to value grammatical over political correctness. His arguments for and explanations of his inclusions are at any rate convincing, and like it or not, anyone writing today must deal with such issues. That said, the fact that this book is a decade old means it is not quite up to date here - so fast do such things change. Far more important in any case is that the entries are almost always remarkably clear. Unlike so many guides, this actually defines each concept and gives both correct and incorrect examples; perhaps more importantly, it says why rules exist - when there is a reason - and why bad examples are incorrect. Finally, Lovinger avoids the annoying over reliance on cross-references that plague so many guides, though there may still be too many for some, and the alphabetical listing makes browsing easy.

However, the book is not perfect, though problems are relatively minor. The biggest for many will be nitpicking; Lovinger is sometimes very pedantic about minor foibles and includes some entries, including relatively lengthy ones, needing very little or no attention. Lack of documentation will bother others; the book has a wealth of examples and claims all are real, but sources are not given, and one can hardly be blamed for wondering if they are invented. This is of course a moot point for most, especially as the examples are good in any event.

Other issues are more subjective. For example, Lovinger strives to make the book readable, which would give a significant advantage over other guides, primarily in making it possible to read straight through without boredom. However, he does so mainly by including many humor attempts, and it is immediately clear that he is particularly sarcastic and often acidic. Readers who share his humor may be overjoyed, especially those who usually find such books unbearably dry, but people who think usage a very serious business may not be amused. Even some who think Lovinger funny may be turned off by his nitpicking mockery.

All told, despite these small problems, this is more than sufficient for casual users and works well for the more formal. It may not be the best usage dictionary; many will prefer classics such as those the appendix usefully lists, and others will want a more current and comprehensive - i.e., expensive - edition. The rest will be well served.

Every book on English usage should be read skeptically to some degree or other, but this one more than most. My main complaint is that Lovinger tries too hard to find errors, to the point that he finds them where they aren't. A lot. There are examples on nearly every page. Which I will illustrate by opening the book at random, and giving at least one example from whichever page I open to.

OK, page 280. First part is a lament about the use of "output" in nontechnical contexts. It's a fair point about style, if it's taken merely as a warning about potentially awkward or off-putting usage. His example of a student who was said to be handicapped in "his ability to output the information" seems a good example of a poor use of the word, though I can see why it was tempting to use it. The writer was probably thinking of the student as receiving an "input" of information and retaining it but just not being able to spit it back out right (so to speak). It's hard to think of another word that expresses that idea of returning information and doesn't also sound a bit off. "Regurgitate" would fit, but .... Lovinger suggests "express," which might have been better but doesn't suggest as well the idea of returning what was taken in. Still, "output" retains enough of its technical baggage to make it sound like the student is being seen rather mechanically. So I don't object to Lovinger on that point.

Then he has a section on the word "outrageous." This offers a good example of a mistake that characterizes his general approach throughout the book. He just understands the word too narrowly, as having only negative connotations. He objects to describing the 1939 Golden Gate Exposition as "outrageously spectacular." Yet the first definition of "outrageous" in the current Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary is the neutral "exceeding the limits of what is usual." In this case, the word's associations with indecency and offensiveness may be intended to color the description of what may have been perceived as exceeding the bounds of proper taste and use of human resources. In any case, it's not obvious that the word was used improperly or with any less than full precision. A similar point applies to his other example, about an ad for "outrageous deals."

On the same page he completely derails by confusing etymology with current meaning. Yes, "oval" comes from the Latin for "egg," but he's just nuts to suppose it's objectionable to use "oval" for "elliptical" on the argument that an ellipse isn't truly egg-shaped, i.e. wider at one end than the other. He complains, "A number of modern dictionaries have legitimated the misemployment, thereby contributing further to it." I'd be surprised if any current dictionary doesn't allow for this usage. For one thing, not all eggs are wider at one end, not even most. That is the most common shape of the bird eggs we see most often, which are probably the first eggs we think of, so one could argue it's the prototypical shape the word should stand for. But it's way too late to make that argument. The current usage is logical enough and very well established. Is the "Oval Office" egg-shaped or is it elliptical? We can always resort to "egg-shaped" if we need to distinguish the prototypical egg shape from an ellipse.

Try any other page and you're likely to see more of the same. The book remains useful in that it does make many good points. Lovinger is capable of being very reasonable and helpful, as he is in regard to split infinitives and prepositions at the ends of sentences. Even when he gets carried away it often raises points that one might do well to be sensitive to in some cases. But take what Lovinger gives you with a grain of salt, knowing that he's inclined to be too narrow, and sometimes just wrong.

There are other editions or printings of this book. Click here for another and to get links to more (look for the "Also Available in" box near the top), along with more reviews. Or do a search for the title, without the subtitle.

Reference books don't usually serve as bedtime reading or the topic of controversy. Here is an exception. "The Penguin Dictionary of American English Usage and Style," by Paul W. Lovinger, is unusually readable and thought-provoking for a book labeled "dictionary."

It clashes with those lexicographers and theorists who contend that speakers of a language cannot go wrong, that many verbal wrongs make a right. Examples of those wrongs are the use of "infer" instead of "imply," and "flaunt" instead of "flout," which some dictionaries accept. In an introductory section headed "Save the Language," it borrows the rhetoric of the environmental movement to warn that English is losing indispensable words because of misuse.

The Penguin Dictionary disavows purism or pedantry--for instance, it does not flatly condemn split infinitives or ending sentences with prepositions. "But it does value precision over fashion, logic over illogic, and grammatical correctness over 'political correctness'" (from the introduction). A good example is from the book's discussion of pronouns and number: Drawing from the abortion controversy, it quotes an advocate of "an individual's right to make a choice about their individual lives"--instead of "her individual life." Comment: "Having erroneously associated 'individual' with 'their,' the speaker proceeded to give that individual a number of 'lives.'" The quotation, incidentally, is one of some 2,000 in the book.

(The count excludes made-up examples, the introduction says-- contrary to the intimation of a reader. He wants the book to be fatter and include a list of sources. That would surely increase its price but not its usefulness. It has over 500 pages, with the front matter. By the way, another reader condemns the whole book because he disagrees with a statement under "reason, 2." But that sub-entry presents differing views, and most readers should find it reasonable and balanced.)

In exceptionally clear language, this A-Z guide to good English explains principles of grammar and style (such as the parts of speech, active and passive voice, infinitives, modifiers, plurals, punctuation, and tense). It deals with distinctive words that are often misused (e.g., alibi, bemuse, connive, desecrate, dilemma, fortuitous, idyllic, literally, transpire, and unique) and confusing pairs (e.g., can-may, disinterested-uninterested, emigrate-immigrate, eminent-imminent, masterful-masterly, may-might, nauseated-nauseous, prescribe-proscribe, respectable-respectful, that-which, and perhaps the biggest puzzle: who-whom).

Some of Lovinger's entry topics--like Fowler's--are quirky: anachronisms, backward writing, cliché clash, dehumanization, guilt and innocence, joining of words, metaphoric contradiction, quotation problems, range (true and false), reversal of meaning, series errors, synonymic silliness, and verbal unmentionables.

The only objection I have is to the title of "The Penguin Dictionary of American English Usage and Style," a mouthful that does not do justice to the liveliness of this volume and could fool people into mistaking it for some stuffy tome on a reference shelf.

Humor is sprinkled throughout the book. In an entry on mixed-up clichés, a TV panelist is quoted: "We really have no evidence that Bill Clinton is going to step up to the plate...and really take the bull by the horns." The author comments that maybe the president would have been inspired by a rousing chorus of "Take Me Out to the Bullfight."

I've been looking for a book like this all my life. It is a great resource for answering questions about word usage, grammar, and punctuation. For instance, it tells you the difference between "that" and "which," "who" and "whom," "complement" and "compliment," etc. The book is clear, easy to use, and entertaining. I highly recommend "The Penguin Dictionary of American English Usage and Style."