Youth drives change, and crabb'd age often resents this fact. I belong in the latter category, and admit I am something of a pedant and a prig, tendencies that often beset ageing teachers of English whose early lives were sheltered ones. The people I grew up with, for example, did not swear: my grandfather was always refined, even when watching football matches.
He would pull at his flat cap and mutter, 'Sausage of a kick. Do better meself.' He had been a nifty little rover in his youth, and so had my father, whose contrasting demeanour as a barracker left quite a lot to be desired. But he did not swear, either, and his invective was often fairly imaginative, thus chiming with the family proclamation that the use of swear words was an indication of an impoverished vocabulary. 'Open ya glass eye, umpy! Make another decision like that and then go out and cut ya throat!'
Those were the days when children could expect to have their mouths washed out with soap and water if they uttered certain words; they didn't even have to be four-letter ones. Fast forward quite a few years: once I got the hang of Greek swear words and realised my children were using them, I rejected the idea of soap and water, but began a system of fines: the pocket nerve is always sensitive, I reasoned. I took the same approach to profanity, while pondering the strange fact that the most outwardly religious cultures are also often the most blasphemous.
But of course social change has meant that words that were once considered deeply shocking are now part of the everyday speech of the young. When I am visiting Australia, I find this trend particularly jarring.
At least I am not alone, for English writer Susan Hill objects to the frequent use of a certain four-letter word. She points out that it simply means excrement, and asks why people use it in unrelated contexts. She wishes they would stop to think, as it is an unpleasant word and contributes to the blurring of meaning. I'm with Hill, and also dislike the fact that most younger people seem to have no idea that older people might find such usage offensive. But I'm pleased to report that my Melbourne-based son still sticks to my rules. So do his brothers.
In the small country towns of my youth, where many people were forced