Bill Bryson has a gift. He can make the prosaic interesting and give the everyday a wry slant. He is a writer who thinks about writing and enjoys analysing same. This book is both literate and entertaining. Some words I knew about, many others not, or at least not consciously.
Some entries are not likely to be used much: Orkney, as in the Scottish islands are to be referred to as ‘Orkney’, or ‘the Orkney Islands’, not ‘the Orkneys’. OK. On the other hand we all need to know that the Nullarbor Plain, which is in Western Australia, is spelled with two ‘r’s, and is not Nullabor. And another one dear to my heart: Qantas, the Australian Airline, is an acronym, which spelled out is Queensland and Northern Territory Ariel Service, not ‘Air’ and not ‘Services’. Bryson does not mention it, but Qantas is definitely not ‘Quantas’.
There are many others: ‘kudos’ (fame or glory) is singular, as in ‘received the kudos that was his due,’ not 'were his due’. Bryson can get quite grammatical at times, for example when talking about when to use ‘that’ and when to use ‘which’. It’s quite simple: use ‘that’ for a non-defining clause and ‘which’ for a defining one. I think that's pretty clear.
My favourite entry is a small essay on dangling modifiers, which I sort of knew about sub- consciously, but after reading Bryson I see them all the time. While ‘complicated and disagreeable…they provide some compensation by being frequently amusing.’ An example; ‘Although sixty-one years old when he wore the original suit, his waist was only thirty-five’ or ‘When dipped in melted butter or Hollandaise sauce, one truly deserves the food of the gods.’
It is also well worth reading Bryson’s charming introduction, where he refers to producing the first edition of The Penguin Dictionary of Troublesome Words, noting his sensitivity to points of usage and his impetuosity in suggesting to Penguin editor Donald McFarlan that he, Bryson, should produce such a guide. Much to Bryson’s surprise, McFarlan agrees and provides a financial incentive ‘by way of advance, a sum of money carefully gauged to not cause embarrassment or feelings of overworth’, which I feel strikes a note worthy of Olivia Manning, or William Trevor at their best.