LAS LENGUAS INGLESA Y ESPAÑOLA de Delfín Carbonell

     Did you know that in some places Spaniards are occasionally teased for pronouncing /θ/ instead of /s/? It is curious, because that very distinction can actually enhance clarity.      Consider this: if I say me voy a cazar , pronouncing ka θ ar rather than casar , there is no doubt about my intention. If, on the contrary, I say me voy a casar , I may well be congratulated and asked about the bride.      In varieties of Spanish where both words are pronounced the same, context usually resolves the ambiguity—but the phonetic distinction available in standard Peninsular Spanish removes it altogether.      Language, after all, is a tool for communication, and every feature that contributes to clarity deserves some appreciation. This is not “lisping” (a different phenomenon altogether), but simply one way—among others—of giving the language its full expressive range.

  Yesterday, Telemadrid did it again. Truth be told, this should not surprise me, because Spanish television in general shows a low regard for the official language of Spain. In the program “120 minutos” we read: “Anboto, exdirigente de ETA condenada por participar en quince asesinatos, sale de prisión entre la indignación de las víctimas.” “Entre” for “ante.” And “las víctimas” should more properly be “los allegados de las víctimas.” Let them kick grammar and usage around as much as they like—Spain is, after all, still a democracy—but we should try our darndest to speak and write well. Right?

  Every language has its own native mistakes—errors foreigners rarely make—which reveal a speaker’s social and cultural standing. These mistakes serve as useful clues, helping us judge whether someone belongs to our circle or not. In this sense, we should be grateful for them. Editors, constantly exposed to poor writing, are in a privileged position. Awkward sentences, faulty grammar, and ill-formed expressions not only betray weak education but also make it easy to dismiss a piece. One might even argue that institutions failing to teach proper language deserve to be held accountable. Common errors abound—misused pronouns, redundant expressions, incorrect agreements, and illogical constructions. Such mistakes should never appear in serious writing. And yet, these very errors are oddly comforting. They allow us to feel competent, even superior. Spotting “everybody in the room were drunk” can bring a quiet satisfaction: we know better. In a way, other people’s mistakes boost our ...

     Polonius, in Hamlet (Act 1, Scene 3), advises us: “neither a borrower nor a lender be.” Getting into debt is one of the worst mistakes we can make, and I have tried to avoid it all my life. I am poor, but I owe nothing. What a relief. And as for lending, my poverty has kept borrowers at a safe distance!      Keep away from mortgages, credit cards, and installment buying, and you will sleep soundly.      In Spanish, prestar means ‘to lend’, whereas ‘to borrow’ is tomar prestado or pedir prestado .      I have listed the following in my Phraseological Dictionary : He who lends loses his friend  (he that doeth lend loseth money and friend)   Quien presta no cobra, y si cobra, no todo, y si todo, no tal, y si tal, enemigo mortal “…he who lendeth money unto his friend, looseth both money and friend.” Richard Younge, The Prevention of Poverty , 1655, UK.  Quien presta no cobra, y si cobra, no todo, y si todo,...

  José Ortega y Gasset has a delightful article entitled “Pío Baroja tropieza en Coria con la gramática” ( El espectador , VII), apropos of prepositions. I warmly recommend the piece to all lovers of language. Unfortunately, it is not only Pío Baroja who stumbles in matters grammatical. One observes, with some concern, that many Spanish speakers show a certain uncertainty in the handling of their own language, particularly in the use of prepositions. Take a simple but telling example: a la mesa and en la mesa . To say estar sentados a la mesa is to be “at the table,” participating in the shared act of eating; sentados en la mesa , by contrast, places one physically “on the table.” The distinction is neither trivial nor pedantic—it is semantic. In recent times, the more permissive stance of the Real Academia Española has tended to accept such looseness as part of evolving usage. Yet not all change is gain. When distinctions that carry meaning are blurred or lost, the language its...

  I have the bad habit of watching the news on TV while I breakfast. Aside from the apocalyptic information dished out so early in the morning, I must endure the appalling handling of the Spanish language. This morning, as it happens, I heard that "Podemos hace aguas y se agarra al salvavidas de Rufián." (Tele5, programa AR, March 20, 2026.) This means that Podemos (a communist party in Spain) is urinating and holding on to Rufián, a two-bit left-wing politician, for dear life." Urinating? Yes, "hacer aguas" means just that. The correct expression is "hacer agua", meaning to founder and sink. Of course, Spanish politicians are not what they used to be, and their overall cultural baggage today leaves a lot to be desired. Please remember: to fail, to sink, to founder, is "hacer agua (singular)." To urinate is "hacer aguas (plural)."