Meeting Mrs Malaprop

In 1775, the Anglo-Irish playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan produced his first play at the Convent Garden Theatre in London. This play, entitled The Rivals, features a character named Mrs Malaprop, whose defining feature is that she muddles up her words to great comic effect. Thus, the malapropism was coined!

In case you're unfamiliar with what a malapropism actually is, let us turn to the lady Malaprop herself for some examples (or many examples, since it's so hard to choose the best ones):

"I have since laid Sir Anthony's preposition [proposition] before her"

"It gives me hydrostatics [hysterics] to such a degree"

"He can tell you the perpendiculars [particulars]"

"His physiognomy [phraseology] so grammatical!"

"I am sure I have done everything in my power since I exploded [exposed] the affair"

"You forfeit my malevolence [benevolence] for ever"

"He is the very pine-apple [pinnacle] of politeness!"

Of course, when I say Sheridan's character coined the malapropism, what I really mean is that she gave it the name—the technique of mixing up similar-sounding words to create humour in this way stretches back well beyond the 18th century. The character of Dogberry from Shakespeare's play Much Ado About Nothing, for example, is also very closely associated with malapropisms, to the point where they are also sometimes called Dogberryisms. Here are a few of his best gems:

"Who think you the most desertless [deserving] man to be constable?"

"Comparisons are odorous [odious]"

"Our watch, sir, have indeed comprehended [apprehended] two auspicious [suspicious] persons"

"Thou wilt be condemned into everlasting redemption [damnation] for this"

After all of these benevolent [brilliant] examples, I'm sure you will have gotten the picture: a particular word, usually one that is associated with higher intelligence and/or social class, is replaced with one that sounds similar enough for the audience to understand what was supposed to have been said but has a completely different meaning. For best results, the substitution should be well-known enough to be very obviously nonsensical, with bonus funniness if it entirely changes the meaning of the statement as a whole.

When characters use malapropisms (or, indeed, when real people do), they are perceived as trying to sound more intelligent than they really are, though the ultimate effect of their efforts reveals that they clearly don't understand what they're saying at all, which completely undermines the attempt. In fiction, the technique is useful for characters who are social climbers, or those whose desires to appear dreadfully clever are not matched by their level of intellect. In life, however, it can be an easy trap to fall into, serving as a reminder to keep a dictionary to hand for any words you aren't 100% confident about, lest you substitute vindication for villification and embarrass yourself in front of your readers.

In the meantime, though, I'm going to look for the nearest excuse to call someone a "pine-apple of politeness". Happy writing!