
Almost everyone has at least one comfort food. Food that makes a person happy or provides some consolation, especially after a difficult or trying day. It's the gastronomic equivalent of the happy place. My happy place is Hawaii and I personally have more than one comfort food, though all my comfort foods seem to have at least two things in common — they are high in calories and include some sort of carbohydrate. If your comfort food is a certain kind of fruit or vegetable, consider that a blessing. My favorite comfort food is probably spaghetti and meatballs, which provides heightened consolation when accompanied with garlic bread.
When reading German or Latin, two highly inflected languages, I have noticed that a warm feeling or sense of comfort comes over me whenever I come across an adverb. It is certainly subtle, but tangible nonetheless. The adverb somehow has the effect of making me happy. Is it possible that a part of speech can give a person a sense of consolation in way akin to a comfort food like a very cheesy bowl of macaroni and cheese, especially one containing meat? Is there such a thing as a comfort part of speech? Though it doesn't provide quite the same level of satisfaction as a comfort food, I think the answer, at least in my case, is yes.
Since I have become aware that the adverb brings a sense of comfort to me, I have reflected a little on why. Why the adverb and not the noun or verb, for example? It seems to come down to three things. Three traits of the adverb which give me a sense of comfort. First, and perhaps foremost, with the exception of comparatives, the form of the adverb does not change in German or Latin. The adjective in these languages changes form depending on the noun it is modifying. The adjective must match the noun it modifies in gender, number, and case. Nouns themselves, verbs, and participles also change form. Not so with the adverb, which makes it somehow a welcome part of speech when reading these languages. The Latin word pulchre, for example, is always spelled pulchre no matter where it is found in a sentence, and always means something like "beautifully." The adjective for "beautiful," on the other hand, has three forms in the nominative singular alone -- pulcher, pulchra, and pulchrum -- and a whopping total of fifteen different forms that it can appear in depending on its role in a sentence and the gender and number of the noun it modifies. The situation is a little more complicated in German because the same word can sometimes double as both an adverb and an adjective. However, as an adverb such words will (again, with the exception of comparatives) never change form. For example, while schnell as an adjective, meaning something like "fast," can change form (e.g., to schnelles, schnelle, etc.), schnell as an adverb, meaning something like "quickly," will always look the same in a German sentence. In highly inflected languages, it is nice to have a part of speech that is steady or fixed in form no matter where it is found in a sentence. Perhaps this simply relieves the brain for a moment from the intensity of processing required for comprehending written or spoken German and Latin.
I suppose that a second reason why I like adverbs in German and Latin is that their range of meaning seems, in general, to be less broad than other parts of speech. Verbs, nouns, and adjectives seem, in general, to have a relatively wide range of meaning in German and Latin. For example, in one of my Latin dictionaries, there are a daunting thirty-five possible meanings listed for the verb agere and an even larger number for the noun res. Among the possible significations of agere are "to drive," "to lead," "to hold (an office)," and "to construct." Res can mean many things, including "thing," "subject matter," "operation," and "government." The German adjective geistig can signify "mental," "intellectual," "spiritual," or "alcoholic." However, when it comes to adverbs, the list of possible meanings tends to be much shorter. Eleganter in Latin simply means "elegantly" or "tastefully." Pulchre usually means something like "beautifully," though it can also mean "thoroughly." The German adverb kaum always means something like "hardly" or "scarcely." Certainly, there are exceptions to this point, and it can be overstated. Would be learners of Latin should not be intimidated by the range of meaning of agere and res, as these are admittedly two worst case examples, and do not represent the norm. However, my perception is that, in the main, it is much easier to pick up the meaning of adverbs when reading Latin or German, because it tends to be less dependent on context than the meaning of verbs, nouns, and adjectives.
The third thing that I think appeals to me about the adverb is that it is, so to speak, close to the action in a sentence. It modifies or qualifies the action word, that is, the verb. When the Latin word pulchre [beautifully] is added to the statement homo caecus scripsit [the blind man wrote], we learn how the blind man wrote. Homo caecus pulchre scripsit [the blind man wrote beautifully]. The adverb here not only provides additional information to the reader, but adds punch to the sentence. That's thanks to the adverb.
If I had to choose between a patty melt with Swiss cheese and coming across an adverb in a Latin or German sentence, I suppose I would choose the patty melt. However, within the context of reading Latin or German, I can say that for me that adverb is a sort of comfort part of speech. It deserves more credit and appreciation than it normally receives.