... words are all I have ....
She deplores the modern fashion for denigrating scholasticism, and the reverse snobbery under the rules of which relishing the full and joyous potential of one’s mother tongue is deemed to constitute “showing off”. Lady Bracknell will be d*mned if she will succumb, in the pages of her private blog - which, after all, she writes chiefly for her own amusement - to the current fad for “dumbing down”. The impoverishment of language which must inevitably result from this deplorable trend grieves her ladyship greatly.
Many words are beautiful in and of themselves, regardless of their meaning. They roll upon the tongue. They demand a precision of diction which is all too rare in an age when one is bombarded by noise pollutants on all sides.
Lady Bracknell’s esteemed father is somewhat hard of hearing, as was her beloved paternal grandmother before him. Both demanded that the young Lady Bracknell enunciate clearly. This seemed arduous at the time, but the habit, once learned, is not easily cast off. And there is nothing inherently wrong in speaking clearly.
Be that as it may, there follows a random list of a very few of the words which give Lady Bracknell pleasure: