Because you've been paying attention, you've been keeping up with Tony Judt's installments of his autobiography. But in case you haven't seen the latest issue of The New York Review of Books, then you need to know what Mr. Judt has to write about words. Consider this:
Forty years on from the 1960s, there are not many instructors left with the self-confidence (or the training) to pounce on infelicitous expression and explain clearly just why it inhibits intelligent reflection. The revolution of my generation played an important role in this unraveling: the priority accorded the autonomous individual in every sphere of life should not be underestimated—"doing your own thing" took protean form.
Today "natural" expression—in language as in art—is preferred to artifice. We unreflectively suppose that truth no less than beauty is conveyed more effectively thereby. Alexander Pope knew better.1 For many centuries in the Western tradition, how well you expressed a position corresponded closely to the credibility of your argument. Rhetorical styles might vary from the spartan to the baroque, but style itself was never a matter of indifference. And "style" was not just a well-turned sentence: poor expression belied poor thought. Confused words suggested confused ideas at best, dissimulation at worst. [more]
Overall, Mr. Judt has written an excellent series and, specifically, this essay is highly recommended.
