{"id":2033,"date":"2015-10-20T09:52:13","date_gmt":"2015-10-20T15:52:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/?p=2033"},"modified":"2020-11-25T11:14:23","modified_gmt":"2020-11-25T17:14:23","slug":"when-idioms-become-monsters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/definitions\/when-idioms-become-monsters\/","title":{"rendered":"When Idioms Become Monsters"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><em>Close but no cigar<\/em>, <em>fly off the handle<\/em>, <em>he is pulling your leg<\/em>, <em>I was beside myself<\/em>\u2014we see idioms like these all the time, even though the closer we look, the less sense many of them make.<\/p>\n<p>Sometimes two familiar expressions get jumbled. When that happens, the result is what you might call a \u201cFrankenstein formation,\u201d a nod to the mad scientist who created a monster by conjoining parts that didn\u2019t belong together.<\/p>\n<p>One Frankenstein formation that may never go away is <em>center around<\/em>. You see and hear it everywhere. Two of the numerous examples found online: \u201cThe conflict centers around the atrocities of war.\u201d \u201cMy research centers around the geometry of moduli spaces.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The language scholar Wilson Follett calls <em>center\u00a0around<\/em> a \u201cgeometrically senseless expression.\u201d It results from mashing together <em>center on<\/em> and <em>revolve around<\/em>. Because those phrases are roughly synonymous, over time they merge in the mind.<\/p>\n<p>Some otherwise intelligent language mavens now defend <em>center around<\/em>, apparently reasoning that if enough heedless people keep saying something, it becomes acceptable. Others are having none of it. As Paul Brians says in <em>Common Errors in English Usage<\/em>: \u201cTwo perfectly good expressions\u2014\u2018center on\u2019 and \u2018revolve around\u2019\u2014get conflated in this nonsensical neologism. When a speaker says his address will \u2018center around the topic of\u2019 whatever, my interest level plummets.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Another hardy Frankenstein formation is <em>fall between the cracks<\/em>: \u201cNews reports flash a daily barrage of stories about children who fall between the cracks.\u201d \u201cEvery day this country\u2019s health insurance situation lets people fall between the cracks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The original expression is<em> fall through the cracks<\/em>. People or things that \u201cfall through the cracks\u201d slip away unnoticed and are soon forgotten. If we take a close look at<em> fall between the cracks<\/em>, we find that it doesn\u2019t convey the intended meaning.<\/p>\n<p>Picture a road surface after an earthquake. Large cracks have opened up. If people fall <em>between<\/em> these cracks, they have fallen onto the hard surface of the roadway.<\/p>\n<p>Such a fall would certainly do some damage, but when people fall <em>between<\/em> the cracks, at least they do not disappear <em>through<\/em> the cracks\u2014we can see them lying on the ground, and maybe we can be of some assistance.<\/p>\n<p><em>Fall through the cracks<\/em> refers to a different kind of painful experience: the pain of suffering in isolation.<\/p>\n<p><em>Fall between the cracks<\/em> seems to have resulted from scrambling <em>fall through the cracks<\/em> and <em>fall between two stools<\/em>, an idiom roughly meaning \u201cto fail,\u201d which dates back to the late fourteenth century.<\/p>\n<p>Although some idioms are revealed as absurd under close analysis, many of them made more sense before time or misuse undermined them. Even if they now strike us as a bit off, like a daft but well-meaning old friend, it is up to us to ensure that nobody addles them further.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Close but no cigar, fly off the handle, he is pulling your leg, I was beside myself\u2014we see idioms like these all the time, even though the closer we look, the less sense many of them make. Sometimes two familiar expressions get jumbled. When that happens, the result is what you might call a \u201cFrankenstein [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[10,12,53],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2033","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-definitions","category-effective-writing","category-idioms"],"acf":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2033"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2033"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2033\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2033"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2033"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.grammarbook.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2033"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}