Silvia’s Mother
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I used to have a good instinct, when talking with my students, for the bumps in their sentences. I knew immediately whether an unusual word or phrase was imaginative and exciting, or confusing, or plain wrong. Every word vibrated, and I felt them all. My finger, it seemed, was on the pulse of the language. Or maybe it was that the language pulsed through me, like blood. English was, after all, my mother tongue.
Besides unpredictable spelling, a ton of irregular verbs, and the innumerable phrasal
Besides unpredictable spelling, a ton of irregular verbs, and the innumerable phrasal
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