For Who the Bell Tolls: One Man's Quest for Grammatical Perfection

by David Marsh

This is a book that explains the grammar that people really need to know, such as the fact that an apostrophe is the difference between a company that knows its s*** and a company that knows it's s***, or the importance of capital letters to avoid ambiguity in such sentences as "I helped my Uncle Jack off his horse."

David Marsh's lifelong mission has been to create order out of chaos. For four decades, he has worked for newspapers, from the Sun to the Financial Times, from local weeklies that sold a few thousand copies to the Guardian, with its global readership of nine million, turning the sow's ear of rough-and-ready reportage into a passable imitation of a silk purse.

The chaos might be sloppy syntax, a disregard for grammar or a fundamental misunderstanding of what grammar is. It could be an adherence to "rules" that have no real basis and get in the way of fluent, unambiguous communication at the expense of ones that are actually useful. Clear, honest use of English has many enemies: politicians, business and marketing people, local authority and civil service jargonauts, rail companies, estate agents, academics ... and some journalists. This is the book to help defeat them.

Genres: Nonfiction, Language, Writing, Reference, Linguistics, Teaching, Education

304 pages, Hardcover

First published October 3, 2013

About the author

Production editor, The Guardian at Guardian News and Media (UK)

Reviews

[☘Misericordia☘ ⚡ϟ⚡⛈⚡☁ ❇️❤❣ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Q: ‘Having died, they buried him’ (c) and other things that go bump in the newspapers. And elsewhere.
Q: The following did, however, appear: ‘Sir Vivian Fuchs For Antarctic’ (6 December 1963) and ‘Sir Vivian Fuchs At Palace’ (16 May 1968). (c)

A discourse on the demerits of Jargonauting as the international mental sport.

I totally loved how the author notes Newspeak and Gibberish and Gobbledegook are getting their unfair share of our minds:
Q:
At the 2010 general election, the Liberal Democrat manifesto offered voters ‘change that works for you’. Just to clarify, Nick Clegg explained that this meant ‘change that will make a difference’, presumably in contrast to change that makes no difference and to Gordon Brown’s ‘the change we choose’. (c)
Q:
There’s nothing new in the idea that politicians and civil servants use language to conceal rather than communicate. (c)
Q:
The 19th-century Tory politician George Canning is said to have included the phrase ‘he died poor’ in a tribute to William Pitt the Younger. This was much too straightforward for a Whitehall official, who changed the inscription to read: ‘He expired in indigent circumstances.’ More than 60 years ago, newspapers were poking fun at the following unintelligible government regulation: ‘In the Nuts (Unground) (Other than Groundnuts) Order, the expression nuts shall have reference to such nuts, other than groundnuts, as would, but for this Amending Order, not qualify as nuts (Unground) (Other than Groundnuts) by reason of their being nuts (Unground).’ (c) Nuts.
Q:
In more recent times, Labour’s ‘Interception Modernisation Programme’ became the coalition’s ‘Communications Capabilities Development Programme’. Modernisation and development: cool! What’s not to like? In fact, these were plans to allow the police and security services to monitor everyone’s emails and other online activities including social media, chatrooms and even computer games. My colleague Polly Toynbee warns people to look out for ‘killer words [that] flash out instant red alerts: reform, flexible, harmonise and modernise all signify their opposites’. Politicians use ‘reform’ for a reason: it carries a positive connotation. Not many people nowadays think the Great Reform Act of 1832 was a bad idea. Hence ‘NHS reforms’. A reader (a professor, in fact) accused the Guardian of ‘colluding in this Orwellian misuse of language’, adding: ‘Professional conservative wordsmiths manipulate our choice of words so as to frame the debate on their terms. Your role is to expose these tactics, not collude in them.’ I think he is right. (c)
Q:
as a matter of principle, one should always beware of parties with ‘liberal’ or ‘democratic’ in their name. They may turn out to be neither, as those of us who voted Lib Dem in 2010 were, alas, to discover. We also have a Conservative party that values making money above conservation (and everything else) and a Labour party most of whose MPs have never laboured at a normal job. (c)
Q:
... there may be a connection between ever declining turnouts at elections and the rise of the android candidate, spouting jargon. (c)
Q:
The US and its allies, notably the mindlessly loyal UK, fight wars that aren’t actually wars, or winnable, such as the ‘war on drugs’ and the ‘war on terror’. But when they actually do go to war, it’s not called a war, but Operation Iraqi Freedom or, in Afghanistan, Operation Enduring Freedom. It remains to be seen how ‘enduring’ it is.
Minipax (the Ministry of Peace) in Nineteen Eighty-Four would envy the US military’s mastery of its own version of Newspeak. A US Intercontinental Ballistic Missile with the destructive power of 250 Hiroshimas was ‘the Peacekeeper’. Note that this was not a weapon of mass destruction – WMDs are what the bad guy has (or, in the case of Saddam Hussein, didn’t have). We, of course, have a ‘deterrent’, although since the cold war it has been unclear who, if anyone, it is meant to deter, and from what.
The English language is abused to shield us from the reality of war and death. Killing someone on your own side becomes ‘friendly fire’. Body bags are ‘transfer tubes’. Kidnapping becomes ‘extraordinary rendition’, torture is ‘enhanced interrogation techniques’. A ‘surgical strike’ misleadingly implies precision as well as the idea that something beneficent is being done. ‘Collateral damage’ means blowing people up. ‘Bomblets’ from cluster bombs, some dropped by UK planes despite denials by the government, lie scattered around Iraq to this day.
Large parts of the media collude in this process. Fox News reporters were instructed to call suicide bombings ‘homicide bombings’ to divert attention from the bomber’s motives and US snipers ‘sharpshooters’ because of the possible negative connotations of the traditional term. (c)

Academics vs the world:
Q:
Academics are even worse. In my first reporting job, straight out of university, it took six months for the news editor to cure me of writing 10 long words where five short ones would do, a habit I had acquired in a successful attempt to make my essays sound more impressive to the examiner. When I went back to university to do a master’s 25 years later, it took six months for my tutor to cure me of writing five short words where 10 long ones would do. (c)

The rest of his findings are stellar, as well!
Q:
I have worked with plenty of successful journalists I would not trust to write a shopping list. (c)
Q:
It’s been a lifelong mission to create order out of chaos. And that’s what I mean by a quest for perfection. The chaos takes many forms. It might be sloppy syntax, a disregard for grammar or a fundamental misunderstanding of what grammar is. (c)
Q:
Clear, honest use of English has many enemies: politicians, business and marketing people, local authority and civil service jargonauts, rail companies, estate agents, academics … even some journalists. Thinking and writing in cliches, abusing and misusing language, assaulting us with gobbledegook, they are a powerful foe but we can beat them. (c)
Q:
fun stuff, such as the fact that an apostrophe is the difference between a company that knows its shit and a company that knows it’s shit, or the importance of capital letters to avoid ambiguity in such sentences as ‘I helped my Uncle Jack off his horse’. (c)
Q:
Purists might object to James Brown’s ‘I feel good – I knew that I would’ on the grounds that the adjective ‘good’ should strictly be the adverb ‘well’. Not only have such people got no soul, but they are also wrong. There’s a credible case for ‘I feel good’ because feel is a copular verb, which as I mentioned refers to states of being – most obviously be, but also act, appear, seem, and similar. As we have seen, copular verbs can take an adjective as complement (‘the baby is sleepy’). And good, my friends, is an adjective. Which is why ‘I act good’ (adjective – I pretend to be good) means something quite different from ‘I act well’ (adverb – I’m a good actor). (c)
Q:
It’s certainly, undoubtedly, very easy indeed to overdo adverbs. (c)
Q:
Thankfully, many of us happily await the day when such people finally notice that many adverbs can be used to govern the whole sentence or just the verb: unfortunately, sadly, thankfully, happily – and hopefully. Even the normally sensible Robert Allen, in How to Write Better English, says hopefully ‘is best reserved for spoken use, and should be avoided in more formal writing, if only to avoid causing irritation to language purists who might be reading’. Hopefully, you will agree with me that they deserve all the irritation they get. (c)
Q:
Some armchair grammarians also get worked up about the position of focusing adverbs, suggesting for example that ‘I Only Have Eyes for You’ should have been written ‘I Have Eyes for Only You’. HW Fowler called such people ‘those friends from whom the English language may well pray to be saved’. In such cases, any sensible person would know the meaning at once from the context. But where you place the adverb can sometimes make a difference. Compare:
‘Rubbing it with a dock leaf will only ease the pain.’ (It won’t cure it.)
‘Only rubbing it with a dock leaf will ease the pain.’ (Nothing else will do.) (c)
Q:
If you see any of the following examples in a newspaper, alarm bells should be ringing: apparently (to whom?), evidently (what evidence?), reportedly (reported by whom?). (c)
Q:
Distinguished Guardian commentators are by no means immune from this kind of thing: ‘The challenge for Ed Miliband is how to capture the right tone of indignation at this injustice and class bias, how witheringly to crush the wilful ignorance of Tory backbenchers …’ This sentence might mean one of two things: the challenge for Ed Miliband is how witheringly he should crush the wilfully ignorant Tories – a lot, or a little bit? – or how best to crush them witheringly. Knowing the writer, she probably means the latter – in which case, why not say so? ‘The challenge for Ed Miliband is how to capture the right tone of indignation at this injustice and class bias, how to witheringly crush the wilful ignorance of Tory backbenchers …’ does the job neatly and unambiguously. (c)
Q:
Following a ‘rule’ that confuses the reader is barmy. The last word on the subject goes to George Bernard Shaw who, after an editor tinkered with his infinitives, declared: ‘I don’t care if he is made to go quickly, or to quickly go – but go he must!’ (c)
Q:
It turned out that a writing guide for press releases and internal communication had advised: ‘As a general rule, do not use the serial/Oxford comma: so write “a, b and c” not “a, b, and c”.’ It added, however, that such a comma might help clarify a sentence or resolve ambiguity, especially where an item in the list was already joined by ‘and’. So: he ate ham, eggs and toast; but he ate cereal, kippers, sausages, toast and marmalade, and a muffin. (c)
Q:
Sometimes an Oxford comma is essential to avoid ambiguity: ‘I dedicate this book to my parents, Martin Amis, and JK Rowling.’ (Try it without the comma after ‘Amis’.) But often it is neither use nor ornament: The Times, in an article about the late actor Peter Ustinov, is said to have referred to his ‘encounters with Nelson Mandela, a demigod and a dildo collector’. Inserting an Oxford comma after ‘demigod’, it is true, would make clear that Mandela does not collect dildos, but only at the risk of labelling him a demigod. In such cases, it’s easier to forget about the Oxford comma altogether and recast the sentence: ‘encounters with a demigod, a dildo collector and Nelson Mandela’ would fix the problem. (c)
Q:
I was taught that between applies only to two things, and among should be used for more than two – a rare example of Mrs Birtles getting it wrong. Between is appropriate when the relationship is reciprocal, however many parties are involved: an agreement between the countries of the EU, for example. Among belongs to collective relationships, as in votes equally shared among political parties. When fighting broke out at Wembley during the 2012/13 FA Cup semi-final, the punches appear to have been equally shared among the Millwall fans, so it sounded a bit odd when the Observer reported clashes ‘between Millwall fans’. So the 1927 Paul Whiteman song ‘Among My Souvenirs’ got it right. (c)
Q:
You don’t expect a politician being interviewed by Kirsty Wark about the economy to suddenly start paraphrasing Ludacris by saying he’s got his mind on his money and money on his mind, and adding, ‘You’se a hell of a distraction when you shake your behind.’ Although it might make Newsnight more entertaining. (c)
Q:
‘This is the house that Jack built; but this house, which John built, is falling down.’
‘The Guardian, which I read every day, is the paper that I admire above all others.’
‘I am very proud of the sunflowers that I grew from seed’ (some of them); ‘I am very proud of the sunflowers, which I grew from seed’ (all of them). (c)
Q:
The back cover of the Penguin edition of Bill Bryson’s Mother Tongue contains the following recommendation from the Sunday Express: ‘A joyful celebration of our wonderful language, which is packed with curiosities and enlightenment on every page.’
The syntax suggests that our wonderful language, rather than the book, is packed with curiosities and enlightenment on every page. It should have been: ‘A joyful celebration of our wonderful language that is packed with curiosities and enlightenment on every page.' (c)
Q:
Though long-legged and possessing a lovely smile, gentleman journalists aren’t looking up her skirt and wouldn’t even if she weren’t gay.
GUARDIAN
Of several strange things about this sentence, which somehow found its way into the Guardian when everyone was asleep, not the least strange is the image conjured up of smiling, long-legged gentleman journalists. (c)
Q:
‘Having died, they buried him’ is a simple example of a dangling or hanging participle because the participle having is left suspended too far from the pronoun it refers to, him, and instead clings to the adjacent pronoun they. The meaning is clear enough but it sounds silly, if not as silly as this: ‘This argument, says a middle-aged lady in a business suit called Marion …’ (What were her other outfits called?) (c)
Q:
‘The book has been compared to All Quiet on the Western Front, A Farewell to Arms, The Red Badge of Courage, The Naked and the Dead, The Things They Carried: practically every classic war novel in the American canon.’
Another piece from the London Review of Books, this time a review by Theo Tait of The Yellow Birds by Kevin Powers, tells us much more than if it had merely said the new book had been compared with the classic war novels – the choice of ‘compared to’ implies that it is of similar quality.
The two phrases have usefully distinct meanings and, although ‘compare to’ can be replaced by ‘liken to’, it’s clumsier to replace ‘compare with’ with another phrase. (c)
Q:
People will understand you if you say things like ‘there were less than 200 of us’ but it may strike a jarring note, so don’t say you haven’t been warned. Observing this distinction also enables you to differentiate between ‘Do you have less able children in your class?’ (children who are less able) and ‘Do you have fewer able children in your class?’ (not so many able ones). (c)
Q:
The bad news is that English has lots of tenses, just like other languages. But we use auxiliary verbs (be, do, have, will) to make them. So, for example, you make the present continuous tense like this: ‘I am sitting.’ It’s the first person singular of the verb be, plus the present participle of the verb sit. And the name, though mildly worrying, turns out to be helpful: it’s happening now (present), and it’s going on (continuous). Easy peasy. Future tense? ‘I will sit’ (or, if you want to be a little more emphatic about it, ‘I shall sit’). Future continuous? Hmm … ‘I will be sitting.’ (I will be doing it in the future, and it will go on.)
A few more:
emphatic present (‘I do sit’);
emphatic past (‘I did sit’);
past continuous or imperfect (‘I was sitting’);
present perfect (‘I have sat’);
perfect continuous (‘I have been sitting’);
past perfect or pluperfect (‘I had been sitting’); and
future perfect (‘I will have sat’).So you add the infinitive, sit, the present participle, sitting, or the past participle, sat, to an auxiliary verb to get the right tense. If you substituted any other verb, the principle would be the same: the infinitive (write, for example), present participle (writing) or past participle (written) would be correct in place of sit, sitting or sat. Participles are tricky, which explains why Ernie Wise got so many laughs from the phrase ‘the book what I wrote’. Present participles usually end in -ing (writing, loving, fighting). But there are various endings, including irregular ones, for past participles (written, loved, fought), and sometimes they are the same as the past tense (as with sat). That doesn’t explain the fact that using sat when it should be sitting, as in the two examples at the start of this section, is so common. (c)
Q:
If you lay a table or an egg, or you lay something down, the past tense is laid, as is the past participle.
If you lie down, the past tense is lay. The past participle is lain. (c)
Q:
A senior Tory has warned that David Cameron’s leadership would be at stake if the Conservative party loses next year’s European parliamentary elections, something most polls, political betting sites and Ukip have said was likely to happen.
GUARDIAN
This sentence, which appeared in the Guardian in May 2013, is a mess because the tenses are mixed up. That ‘was likely’ in particular sits about as comfortably as riding a bicycle with no saddle, because none of the other verbs are in the past tense. It should have read: ‘A senior Tory has warned that David Cameron’s leadership will be at stake if the Conservative party loses next year’s European parliamentary elections, something most polls, political betting sites and Ukip have said is likely to happen.’ The tenses are present perfect, present and future, which sit happily together. If you wanted to use the past tense, you could have said: ‘A senior Tory warned that David Cameron’s leadership would be at stake if the Conservative party lost next year’s European parliamentary elections, something most polls, political betting sites and Ukip said was likely to happen.’ The point is that you can’t just mix and match and hope for the best. (c)
Q:
Apostrophes are used in phrases such as two days’ time and 12 years’ jail, where the time period (two days) modifies a noun (time), but not in three weeks old or nine months pregnant, where the time period (three weeks) modifies an adjective (old). You can test this by trying the singular: one day’s time, but one month pregnant. (c)
Q:
Apostrophes are used in phrases such as two days’ time and 12 years’ jail, where the time period (two days) modifies a noun (time), but not in three weeks old or nine months pregnant, where the time period (three weeks) modifies an adjective (old). You can test this by trying the singular: one day’s time, but one month pregnant. (c)
Q:
‘Do not administer any liquids which are diuretic’ (some liquids are permissible) and
‘Do not administer any liquids, which are diuretic’ (all liquids are forbidden). (c)
Q:
If you could use ‘and’ between adjectives in a list, use a comma: a bright red car doesn’t need one because you wouldn’t say ‘a bright and red car’; a tall, dark, handsome man does, because you could say ‘tall and dark and handsome’. This example from the Guardian shows how a misplaced comma in such a list can actually sabotage the intended meaning: ‘Neocon economists often claim a large, black economy turbo-powers growth.’ The writer meant a large black economy, not a large and black one, which is what this says. (c)
Q:
Estate agents are also very fond of the word ‘deceptively’, as in ‘deceptively spacious’, which I think means ‘not as small as it looks’ although the word is ambiguous: in a survey, half the respondents thought ‘deceptively easy’ meant easy, and half thought it meant hard. It is, therefore, rarely used by normal people. (c)
Q:
Unspeak
Steven Poole, a Guardian colleague, coined this term to categorise language that conceals what the speaker really means, ‘smuggling in’ an opinion in which ‘a whole partisan argument is packed into a soundbite’, while at the same time attempting to rubbish one’s opponents by suggesting that there is only one way of looking at an issue. Examples he gives include ‘pro-life’ and ‘pro-choice’ in the abortion debate (who could possibly not be in favour of life and choice?). (c)

[thelastword · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of the better grammar books I've read. I especially enjoyed the tweet footnotes. I didn't give it a full five stars because...

Grammar.
Still hate it.

[K.J. Charles · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent stuff. Great jokes, a sensible balance between prescriptive and descriptive approaches, the focus always on meaning and clarity. Loved the chapters on 'political correctness' and jargon: the anger of a decent man coming through. Kindle full of highlights. Strong recommendation for anyone interested in good use of language.

[Jaimella Shaikh · Rating 5 out of 5]

At last - a book on grammar that revels in the fluid, ever-changing nature of the English language rather than seeking to petrify it with pedantry. Not for Marsh the 'rules that have no real basis and get in the way of fluent, unambiguous communication'. Instead he focuses on the 'ones that are actually useful'.

The entertaining opening chapter uses song titles to illustrate parts of speech. Marsh draws on an eclectic collection of references throughout the book - Yoda, Chomsky, The Sun, Hobbes and (of course) Vampire Weekend. His advice on the Oxford comma differs slightly from Vampire Weekend's: 'it's as unwise to say always use an Oxford comma as it is to say never use one'.

Scattered throughout the book are occasional boxes in the 'irritation factor' and 'frequency of error' of cliches or the misuse of ironic - a sort if top trumps for sloppy writing. These felt a little half-hearted in an otherwise passionate and well-constructed book but in the tweets reproduced at the foot of each page sparkled with Marsh's wit and deep engagement with language.

[Latkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

Because I'm rather sad, I love books about grammar, and this one was a gem. It's funny and memorable, and makes grammar really interesting, without being patronising or lecturing. I particularly liked David Marsh's use of pop songs to demonstrate different aspects of grammar, and I liked the fact that he dismisses a lot of the 'old rules' of grammar, such as split infinitives, as out of date. Will my writing be perfect from now on? Probably not, but it'll be better than it was!

[Samantha · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was worried that this book would either be tedious or above my level of understanding. Thankfully, it was neither and I really enjoyed delving into the quirky variations of the English language. It’s written with great humour, obvious love for the language and a sensible attitude to our use of English and the ways in which it has changed and continues to change. A fascinating insight into what can be a very intimidating subject.

[Laura (Book Scrounger) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mostly interesting and often fun, with occasional rants about British politics that I don't understand.

[Rose Stanley · Rating 4 out of 5]

A much-needed injection of light-heartedness into the field of language use. Funny and informative. Recommend even if you're not a grammar nerd like me ; )

[Margaret Barnes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant. If only all grammar was taught in this amusing way. I loved it. The footnotes of questions and answers on the Guardian's Twitter feed @guardianstyle are very witty.
On a serious note I learnt that grammar is a changing skill and the very rigid rules I was taught are not written in stone; as long as it makes sense, that's fine.

[Jeff · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a fun read. Marsh is a descriptive grammarian, meaning he describes how a language is rather than prescribe how it should be. The English language is like a living organism, constantly growing and changing. Marsh writes with so much wit and sarcasm. Particularly interesting are the chapters on business and political jargon and texting / social media lingo.

[Coxychap · Rating 4 out of 5]

Though replete with awful puns, there's some great information here, interestingly and humorously put. The author explains with clarity some tricky grammatical points, and makes some good cases for retaining some distinctions and losing others. Having said that, isn't it time 'which' and 'that' become interchangeable?

[Glenys · Rating 5 out of 5]

I lapped up this book. It's an amusing romp through the sins and shibboleths of syntax and grammar. This is the one to hand out to those of my graduate students who seem unable to write a grammatical sentence. I like his style! I'm even tempted to join Twitter to receive those witty tweets.

[Book Crumpet · Rating 4 out of 5]

Making Grammar refreshingly funny, interesting and easy to understand.
Ideal for both new students, it presents the grammar in an accessible format including memorable song lyrics and witty jokes; excellent for those with even the most cursory knowledge.

[Wan Shoo · Rating 3 out of 5]

An entertaining book on the rules of English. This book might not make you an English genius but can definitely remind you of everyday grammatic mistakes. Please read this book to shun being an annoyance.

[Josmith · Rating 4 out of 5]

I would never have thought that a book about English grammar could be so funny and interesting.

[Sue Robinson · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked his use of song lyrics to introduce chapters, but found it a bit slow going in the middle. If you read to the end you can't fail to get the message. Less is beautiful.

[Pete Green]

Lovely. A book about language that's useful for the professional and the general reader, which is rare. The section about jargon is a particular cringe-inducing delight.

[Richard Fieldhouse · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can now sleep at night knowing my acronyms from my initialisms.

[Richard Thomas · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent witty and eminently sensible guide to 'good' English

[Harish P · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant!

[Phil Lewis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Highly amusing, but I'm not sure how much I'll have learnt from it.

[Dajuroka Reads · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting insights in punctuation and grammar. Will need to revisit one day as so much content difficult to grasp it all.

[Shelley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Being a stickler for spelling and grammar, and constantly irked by misplaced or missing apostrophes, this book was right up my alley. I quickly learned there is much I didn't know and should perhaps try to be a bit more tolerant when encountering poor spelling, punctuation and sentence structure. That said, Tim Hortons without the apostrophe will never cease to frustrate; and emails that read "Your the best!" from supervisors who make three times my salary will always drive me bananas!

[Benevbooks · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked it up as a writer and was pleasantly surprised to actually enjoy most of it! I went into this quite apprehensive as grammar is not the most interesting topic to read about, but I found (most) of the book's sections to be interesting and helpful. Some parts dragged and could have been cut down (or cut out completely), but I enjoyed myself for the majority of the book.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

And at least half a star more. Four stars needs more emotional commitment from me than I can give to grammar but I learned a lot and I promise to try and apply the lessons learned. Very entertaining as well.

[Marie Attfield · Rating 4 out of 5]

Entertaining, witty and interesting. Not what I would expect from a book about grammar...

[Minjun Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great book. I like how he mentions purist perspective on things without being one.

[Daniel · Rating 4 out of 5]

David Marsh
For Who the Bell Tolls: One Man's Quest for Grammatical Perfection
Guardian Faber Publishing
304 pages
8.0

[Marlies · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book a lot. I found it helpful and encouraging.

[Rafa Willisch · Rating 5 out of 5]

An educational and very funny book about grammar. It was a joy to read!.