#91 - The Letter S

The Letter S

7/20/06 (#91)

In the yearbook of the alphabet, S is superlative---"Letter most likely to start a word." One might mistake S as the most frequent letter in the language, but sadly, it is not, beaten out by a cartoon handful of vowels---hardly a fair fight considering that the vowels are required by etymological law to appear in every word this side of an acronym. Consonants have no such affirmative action guarantees---even when it comes to plurals, S is offered no promises: "deer" and "mice" are ample proof of that. Yet despite the vowel's requisite advantages, only four of them actually outnumber the S. Few consonants can make such a claim. (Frankly, E's status as the letter-frequency leader reeks of political maneuvering, having gone so far as to squirm its way into even the very spelling of its significant consonantal rival. [Ess].)

S is sinewy---one of only three letters whose composition is devoid of sharp angles and straight lines. Serpentine and simple, S is a shoe-in for the smart letter selection on Wheel of Fortune, and one of the few letters that allow a single tile 17-point score in Scrabble. (That this spectacular letter is honored with only one point is a sinful devaluation by the folks at Milton Bradley.)

S is springy and smooth, an essential element of comic semantics such as "spoink" and "splat", and has more fun on a single page of text than V has in a whole chapter. S can softly smile or sarcastically sneer, and it will sweetly soothe just moments after it suddenly smites.

S is specific---while its sister sounding C might borrow its sibilance, the C too often sneaks off to impersonate the sonic of a K, bragging about versatility when it simply lacks backbone. H might make a noise or might not ("a herd of herbs"), but S refuses to sit by silently---employ its services and you will hear its sound.

S is essential to so many savory, satisfying words---several of which I will sing the praises of here:

Sully---Mr. Webster defines this word as "To mar the cleanness or luster of." Taint and tarnish and contaminate all sound like the aftermath of a a genuine soiling, whereas if someone told me that after the flight they were sullied by the southern-accented stewardess, I would likely be slightly jealous. Somewhat less so if the recipient of said post-flight checklist had been "tainted" by the same woman.

Strumpet---Not recommended for poets (unless writing an ode to crumpets or lambasting the floozy trombone in contrast to the chaste trumpet), but strumpet ("a woman adulterer") possesses a certain not-quite-wholesome sexuality without having the rudeness of those nasty words listed beside it in the thesaurus. If the man sullied by the stewardess lamented that she was only a strumpet, my jealousy would not subside. (Sigh.)

Swagger---the dictionary says it means, "To walk or conduct oneself with an insolent or arrogant air". I prefer to define the word by what swaggers and what does not: southern band The Black Crowes swaggers; The Grateful Dead did not. Matthew McCounaghey can swagger; Matthew Broderick cannot. The paintings of Pablo Picasso swagger; Norman Rockwell's do not. The letter S has swagger; The letter Q does not.

Sofa---the meaning ("A long upholstered seat typically with a back and arms") is as soft (yet supporting) as the sound itself. (Say it----see?) Couch is cold and uncomfortable; divan is distracting and difficult; being done on a daybed seems demeaning---but sullied on a sofa by some swaggering strumpet? Well, keep this a secret, but that sounds simply splendid.

©2006 wpreagan