Audiobook Sample
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- Title: How to Speak and Write Correctly
- Author: Joseph Devlin
- Narrator: LibriVox Volunteers
- Length: 05:42:48
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 01/01/2017
- Publisher: LibriVox
- Genre: Non-Fiction, Lectures
- ISBN13: SABLIB9786039
As I settled into my favorite armchair with a cup of oolong tea, the familiar crackle of vintage recording equipment transported me back to my graduate school days at Harvard, where I first discovered the fascinating evolution of prescriptive grammar. Joseph Devlin’s “How to Speak and Write Correctly”, narrated by the dedicated volunteers of LibriVox, offers contemporary listeners a peculiar dual experience: a practical guide frozen in 1910 etiquette, and a revealing artifact of early 20th century class aspirations.
The opening chapters on sentence construction immediately reminded me of teaching freshman composition at Berkeley, where I often encountered students wrestling with the tension between traditional grammar rules and evolving linguistic norms. Devlin’s strict prescriptions about ‘correct’ English usage (particularly his amusingly rigid section on ‘shall vs. will’) contrast sharply with today’s descriptive linguistics approaches. Yet there’s something charming about his unshakable confidence in grammatical absolutes – a quality that makes this audiobook particularly delightful when heard rather than read, as the various LibriVox narrators (with their distinct accents and cadences) inadvertently demonstrate the very language diversity Devlin sought to standardize.
What fascinates me most is how the audiobook format transforms Devlin’s occasionally stuffy advice into living history. The chapter on business correspondence – with its elaborate instructions for proper letter formatting – takes on new poignancy when heard through the crackling audio of volunteer narrators from around the world. It reminds me of my research into early 20th century Japanese correspondence manuals, where similar prescriptions about social mobility through ‘proper’ language created fascinating cultural artifacts. The LibriVox narration, while inconsistent in audio quality (as expected from volunteer recordings), adds an authentic period charm that a professional studio recording might lack.
Through a cultural lens, Devlin’s advice reveals much about his era’s values. His detailed instructions for writing condolence letters or declining invitations showcase a world where social mobility depended heavily on mastering specific linguistic codes. The section on public speaking particularly resonates with me, recalling my TEDx talk about how digital communication has democratized eloquence. While some advice remains practical (his tips for clear paragraph structure are timeless), other passages – like the gendered language recommendations – serve as stark reminders of how much linguistic norms have evolved.
The audiobook’s greatest strength lies in its ability to make us reflect on our own linguistic moment. Just as Devlin couldn’t foresee text messages or emoji-laden emails, we can’t predict how future generations will judge our communication norms. This reminds me of when my Tokyo students and I compared traditional letter-writing with modern tweets – both are products of their technological and social contexts. The LibriVox volunteers’ varied interpretations of the text (some reading with earnest formality, others with subtle irony) create an unintentionally rich commentary on how language standards change over time.
For modern listeners, I’d recommend approaching this audiobook as both practical guide and historical document. While some grammar advice remains useful, the real value lies in hearing early 20th century language ideals spoken aloud. It’s particularly fascinating to contrast Devlin’s prescriptions with contemporary audiobooks about communication – the differences reveal more about changing social values than about language itself. The free availability through LibriVox makes this an accessible experiment in linguistic time travel, though listeners should be prepared for variable audio quality typical of volunteer recordings.
In my Comparative Literature courses, I often use such historical guides to demonstrate how ‘proper’ language is always tied to power structures. Devlin’s earnest advice about impressing one’s superiors through flawless correspondence takes on new meaning when heard through today’s more egalitarian ears. The audiobook format makes these cultural subtexts even more apparent, as the very act of listening (rather than reading) places us in the position of early 20th century audiences seeking self-improvement through spoken instruction.
With scholarly appreciation for linguistic time capsules,
Prof. Emily Chen
