TO SWEAR OR NOT TO SWEAR…
YES
SHARON WRIGHT When the final series of Happy Valley opened with a heartfelt ‘Tw*t!’ as Sergeant Catherine Cawood (Sarah Lancashire) stomped away from a patronising boss, I turned to my husband in triumph. ‘See! You say I use that word too much, but it’s my culture.’ The culture of wild West Yorkshire, that is. Our Catherine is the fabulously foul-mouthed creation of Sally Wainwright and if it’s good enough for Britain’s best TV writer, it’s good enough for me.
National treasure Dawn French is at it too, putting the
T-word up in lights for her latest tour, Dawn
French is a Huge
Tw*t. In an unintentionally hilarious moment, the advertising watchdog was forced to rule after two people had a strop when they saw a press advert for the live show. It concluded, solemnly, that the title would be understood as self-deprecating and tongue-in-cheek.
It’s an expressive word, whether you’re joking or exasperated, without going all out with the jarring c-version. I use four-letter words all the time. They make a point. That’s what words are for. Which, conversely, is why I hate it when people overuse swear words in an aggressive or lazy way in lieu of actual communication. They should illuminate a sentence, not make you wince.
My conversation is often peppered with rude words, used for emphasis or just a laugh. My only proviso is reining it in when children are within earshot. Then I revive the milder cursing from my own childhood. ‘Blood and sand!’ was a good one. ‘Flaming Nora!’ was another. Used judiciously – not like curse confetti – swearing is a rebellion to relish. I’m no less passionate or articulate now than I was as a student, so I’m going to express myself freely forever. Because if wellbehaved women seldom make history, overly demure dames seldom get heard.
NO
JACQUIE ELSDEN
I have never sworn. I didn’t do it growing up, in my teens or now in adulthood. It was a rule at home – Mum never swore in front of us and I only remember my dad doing it once. It was snowing and he stopped to offer a neighbour a lift. Suddenly he skidded and said the F-word. My first words were: ‘Dad! You swore!’ I was 15 and more shocked by that than the fact we’d just skidded off the road.
When I grew up, the rules relaxed a bit, but only to allow the odd ‘bl**dy hell’ or ‘b**ger’. I never heard either of them use really strong, colourful language. I have never felt the need to swear – I’m in my 50s now and it’s not even a thought process. I find a Paddington hard stare is more effective than swearing! My nieces and nephews never swear in front of me. I told them that unless they heard it from me, I didn’t want to hear it from them.
One of my best friends (and boss) swore every other word, but never at work. The minute we stepped out of the office, though, she swore like a trooper. That was part of her and if I wanted her company, I had to accept it.
I hear young kids using the F-word in front of their parents, without the parents even noticing. How do they manage at school or where people don’t use that language? I’ve often leant over to ask people to stop swearing when children are present. Most people are OK about it. Swearing is so commonplace, I don’t think they realise they are doing it.
I also believe older generations find swearing off-putting and frightening.
If it’s part of your everyday conversation, where do you go when you are really furious? Is it physical violence when you are truly angry? I accept people might swear to make a point or express extreme emotion – like Dad in the snow that time. But today, swearing has lost its meaning because it’s lost its context.
‘I use four-letter words all the time’ ‘Swearing has lost its meaning’