LAS LENGUAS INGLESA Y ESPAÑOLA de Delfín Carbonell

  I have always said it as "codo con codo", shoulder to shoulder, meaning side by side, but I read in a journal "codo a codo" and I rushed to my dictionaries to double-check. Was it a mistake? Nope, it wasn't. María Moliner uses the preposition "con", and Seco registers the idiom with "a".  Finally, the Diccionario de la Real Academia accepts both prepositions. Live and learn! So you can say: "Petra y yo trabajamos codo con codo", and "Petra y yo trabajamos codo a codo." 

Toda la obra Crítica efímera , es un dechado de buen escribir, acertada crítica, buen humor y correcciones lingüísticas. A propósito del lenguaje, me arriesgo a entresacar la siguiente cita, escrita en 1919, por si puede servir de algo a alguien o como recordatorio de épocas lejanas.   "... por defectuosa organización de la enseñanza oficial, y hasta por carencia de obras racionales que faciliten el conocimiento práctico del idioma, nuestros literatos, salvo honrosas excepciones, se arrojan a llenar cuartillas sin haber aprendido a manejar el instrumento de su arte, y, naturalmente, desafinan. De aquí que entre nosotros sea más necesaria, y también más eficaz, la policía del lenguaje." Julio Casares, Crítica efímera , "Una fábula de aduaneros y matuteros", Espasa-Calpe, 1962. (Publicado originalmente en 1919.)

 People no longer seem to care as much about how they dress, but there was a time when being elegant, dapper, smart, well-groomed, and stylish was the ideal everyone aspired to. Men and women dressed to kill, to the nines, and took pride in being well-dressed at all times. The Spanish language, too, bears witness to this former obsession with dress, with expressions such as ir hecho un pincel ( hecho un brazo de mar ) ir de tiros largos or maqueado.  If this increasingly casual approach to dress persists, such expressions may survive only in dictionaries. Juan vino a la fiesta hecho un pincel John came to the party dressed to the nines — “… se ponía hecho un pincel aunque solo fuera a ir al mercado.” Antonio Muñoz Molina, Sefarad , 2001. Esp. || “… lo mandé planchar, hice almidonar la camisa y…hecho un brazo de mar, bajé al comedor.” Manuel Leguineche, El camino más corto , 1995. Esp. 

These alternatives in English  Either...or: "Either pay or go to jail." Neither... nor: "I neither love you nor need you." have their parallel equals in Spanish: O... o: "O me pagas o te parto la cara." Ni... ni: "Ni quiero ir ni puedo ir."

I regularly receive the Modern Language Association newsletter The Source from the MLA Style Center, which I peruse diligently. In the issue of 29 January 2026, an article titled “A Common Mistake: Should of in Place of Should Have” caught my attention. It opens with the statement: “You may have seen people write should of , but that is grammatically incorrect.” I do not generally encounter such usage, nor do I associate with people who write in that manner. Indeed, contrary to the claim, I cannot recall ever hearing anyone say should of in place of should have . I may be living on the fringes of present-day English, but I find the assertion surprising nonetheless. The author, Laura Kiernan, suggests that “the mistake probably comes from the fact that should’ve sounds similar to should of when spoken.” Try as I might, however, I cannot hear should’ve as resembling should of . While the explanation is plausible, pointing out this “mistake” strikes me as somewhat unnecessary for ...

     There was a time when manners , politeness , and etiquette were not just words, but living principles. Today, they risk becoming old-fashioned vocabulary, their meanings fading in the minds of the young. In their place, other expressions are gaining currency—often reflecting a rather different social reality.      One such expression is “to take French leave.” Traditionally, it meant departing without saying goodbye, without asking permission, without so much as a word of notice—a small but unmistakable social offense. In earlier times, such behavior would have been considered a breach of decorum, if not outright rudeness. Now, it passes almost unnoticed.    The phrase itself is a curious example of linguistic blame-shifting across cultures. The French, returning the compliment, say “filer à l’anglaise,” placing the blame squarely on the English. Spanish follows suit with “despedirse a la francesa,” suggesting, perhaps with a faint smil...