Ad Latin per aspera: Dead-language troubles

In an episode of “The Simpsons,” 10-year-old Martin Prince has a “Nightmare on Elm Street”-style dream in which he’s conjugating Latin verbs. The funny part is that, unlike most people’s nightmares, Martin is actually enjoying the Latin part -- right up until Groundskeeper Willie, in full Freddy Kruger form, jumps in to help. Martin’s minding his own business, conjugating Latin verbs for “he dies,” “they die,” right up until Wille jumps in with, “You die!”

Unlike Martin, most people would rather face a scissor-handed slasher than study a dead language. That’s why it’s so odd that we still use Latin expressions today. I’m not talking about English words that evolved out of Latin. I’m talking about expressions we use on a regular basis that are in a language so foreign, most of us don’t even know its most basic vocabulary.

Take “et al” ... please. This one is half familiar to any of us who know Shakespeare or read enough Mad magazines to stumble across a few satirical Shakespeare references. (Guess which school I’m from.) I’m referring, of course, to the famous line, “Et tu, Brute,” literally “And you, Brutus?” but idiomatically as, “Even you, Brutus?” as a sort of literary-historical, “You sunk my battleship!”

So we know the “et” in “et al” means “and,” but who is this Al guy, and why is he the only person who ever seems to co-author on books?

Lucky for you, mine isn’t the only wisdom available on this matter. Bryan Garner, author of the very author- itative and scary- looking “Garner’s Modern American Usage,” is a little more helpful:

“‘Et al.’ is the abbreviated form of the Latin phrase ‘et alii.’” But even before I can jump to the conclusion that Al is really a guy named Alii, Garner continues. “Alii,” he explains, is the Latin word for “others.” So “et al.” which always uses a period, means “and others.”

So why don’t we just say “and others” or “and associates” or “and some people I don’t like but pretended to like so they’d help me write my book”? Beats me. Ergo, I must not be much of a Latin fan.

Garner continues: “et al. ... is used only in reference to people, whereas etc. is used in reference to things.” And you know what that means: Now I have to look up “etc.”

Like “et al.” it’s Latin, but unlike “et al.” most people know what it’s short for, “etcetera,” and how to use it. And apparently, experts don’t like it when we little nobodies know too much about their area of expertise.

“The use of ‘etc.’ tends to become a slovenly habit, the corrective for which is to refrain from using ‘etc.’ except in the driest and most documentary kind of writing,” writes George P. Krapp -- no, I didn’t make that up -- in the 1927 “A Comprehensive Guide to Good English.”

Garner agrees, not only reprinting the Krapp quote but also restating it. “Writers should generally try to be as specific as possible rather than make use of this term.”

And Garner can’t resist getting a little Krappy when he comments on the use of “and” in front of “etc.”

“And etc.,” Garner tells us, “is an ignorant redundancy, ‘et’ being the Latin ‘and.’” Ouch.

Ergo -- Latin for “therefore” -- you’re better off watching “The Simpsons” than trying to learn Latin from a bunch of cranky language experts.

* JUNE CASAGRANDE is a freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

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