We knew early in our life that the atmosphere in our home was different from that in many other homes, where husbands and wives quarrel and where was drunkenness, laziness or indifference – things we never saw in our family. We chafed and grumbled at the strictness of my father’s regime. We went to hide whenever we broke the rules too visibly. We knew, nevertheless, that our parents wanted good things for us. Some of these, such as the insistence on our going to school and never missing a day, we accepted readily enough, although, like most other children, we occasionally yielded to the temptation to play truant. However, in other cases such as their effort to keep us out of contact with the difficult life- the drinking and fighting and beer-brewing and gambling- their failure was inevitable. They could not keep us insulated. By the time we move about, we were already seeing things with eyes and judging things by the standards we had absorbed from them.

  It was borne in on me and my brothers at a very early age that our father was an uncommon man. for one thing, in most African families, work around the home was women’s work. So we were vastly impressed by the fact that whenever my mother was away, my father could and did do all her jobs-cooking, cleaning and looking after us. We lived in this way in a community in which housework was regarded as being beneath male dignity. Even in families which, like ours, produced boy after boy-our sister came fifth-it simply meant that the mother carried a greater and greater burden of work. In our family, nevertheless; the boys did girls ‘work and my father did it with us.

  One of the prime chores of life in the family was fetching water from the pump down the street, some two hundred metres from our door. Since the pump was not unlocked until six in the morning and there was always crowding, a system had developed whereby you got out before dawn, placed your twenty-litre tin in line, and then went home, returning latter to take your place. Often, of course, tins would be moved back in line, and others moved ahead. This could be corrected if none of these in front were too big a challenge.

  When taps were substituted for the pumps, the first one installed was nearly a kilometre away from our house and we had to make the trek with the water tins balanced on our heads – an indignity because this was the way girls, not proud males, carried their derisive laughter. We did our jobs doggedly, that notwithstanding, because our father and mother expected it of us. Out of choice, our father did everything we did, including fetching water on occasion, and commanded us by sheer force of his example.

This book consists of lectures given by me at Cambridge. Though they have been largely rewritten, I have kept a good deal of their original lecture form, as being (I hope) rather less formal and less dogmatic. For to dogmatism, those who write on language seem, for some reason, particularly prone; and I should like to make clear at once that, if at times I have put my view strongly, I do not forget that such matters of taste must remain mere matters of opinion.
In addition, I have included a good many specimen passages from various authors. Perhaps I have quoted too much. But a book on style without abundant examples seems to me as ineffectual as a book on art, or biology without abundant illustrations. Many of these passages are in French. That may be Gallomanian on my part, and I must apologise if they trouble some readers. But some ability to read French prose does seem to me most desirable for anyone who would write well in English. I have tried to choose pieces not too difficult in syntax or vocabulary. And in these days less than ever can we afford to be better insular.

  It is customary nowadays among fashionable ladies and gentlemen to acquire strange and sometimes quaint cloths which are scarcely ever used. Sometimes it may be an approaching festival; sometimes a two hour ceremony and sometimes to honour a dead colleague – something triggers off the modern craze to sew new materials whose use does not outlast the moment of craze. And so, people who just occupy small apartments in their parents’ homes, or have rented one room in a densely – peopled house find that more than two- thirds of their rooms are filled with bongo trousers which they cannot wear, worn out jeans which stinks, or specially made clothes for occasions that are not recurrent.

  Although plagued by the problem of school fees for their children, parents have had to swallow their own phlegm and humour their children who need special clothes for important events. Newly employed youths soon find that their comrades getting married, and a new and special attire must be used to grace the occasion. University students see matriculation ceremonies or induction ceremonies into club membership as special reasons to make new attire which – you may be sure they would not wear on another occasion that parallels the one for which these clothes were made.

  Medical doctors may soon find another cause for the incidence of high blood pressure among the youth. The desire to acquire new clothes is one strong possible cause, but a more subtle one which haunts like a ghost is the problem of choice of what to wear. The youths have so stuffed their apartments, wardrobes, drawers and trunks with so many clothes that the greatest problem they face is the choice of what to wear.