slowly比较级和最高级怎么写

Got it, you’re diving into the nitty-gritty of adverbs! Specifically, how to escalate the concept of “slow” when it’s describing how something is done. Right then. Let’s cut straight to the chase because, frankly, grammar can wait for precisely zero people’s busy schedules, can it? 😉

So, the word in question is slowly. It tells us in what manner an action is performed – you walk slowly, you write slowly, time passes slowly (or so it feels sometimes! 😩). It’s an adverb, plain and simple, and it’s derived from the adjective “slow” by adding that ever-present “-ly” suffix. Now, when you want to say something is happening at a greater degree of slowness than something else, or at the absolute greatest degree of slowness among a bunch of things, you need its comparative and superlative forms. And for an adverb like slowly, formed by adding -ly to an adjective, the rule is wonderfully consistent (mostly! English… sigh 😂).

The comparative form of slowly is more slowly.
The superlative form of slowly is most slowly.

There you have it. The core answer, neat and tidy. ✨ No ‘-er’ or ‘-est’ tacked onto the end like you might see with adverbs like fast (faster, fastest) or hard (harder, hardest). Nope, slowly belongs to the club that uses ‘more’ and ‘most’. Think of all those other adverbs ending in -ly: gracefully, beautifully, carefully, loudly, softly… You’d say more gracefully, most gracefully; more beautifully, most beautifully, and so on. Trying to say “slowlyer” or “slowlyest”? Utter linguistic chaos! 🤣 It just doesn’t roll off the tongue, and crucially, it doesn’t conform to the standard grammatical patterns for this particular species of adverb.

Let’s unpack this a bit, shall we? Because just stating the forms is like being given a perfect screwdriver without knowing what screw it fits. 🤔

Take more slowly. This is your go-to when you’re making a comparison. You’ve got two speeds, or two paces, or two rates at which something is happening, and one of them is, well, the sluggard compared to the other. 🐌💨 It’s about degree.

Picture this scene: Two kids are eating ice cream cones on a scorching summer day. One kid, little Timmy, is practically inhaling his vanilla swirl, drip, drip, dripping down his arm. The other kid, little Susie, is taking delicate, tiny licks, savoring every single molecule of sugary goodness. You might observe, “Wow, Susie is eating her ice cream more slowly than Timmy is! She’s actually going to finish hers before it melts into a puddle!” See? A clear comparison of how they are performing the action (eating) in terms of speed.

Or perhaps you’re giving instructions. Imagine teaching someone a delicate dance step. You demonstrate it at a moderate pace, then you say, “Okay, now try it yourself… but maybe go a little more slowly at first, just to get the feel of the movement.” You’re asking them to perform the same action, but at a reduced tempo compared to your demonstration or their initial attempt. It’s about adjusting the speed downwards, making it more characterized by slowness.

Think about a technical process. Maybe a machine is calibrated. “Yesterday, the assembly line was moving at a decent clip, but after we adjusted the tension, the conveyor belt is now moving noticeably more slowly.” This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; perhaps moving more slowly improves quality control! 🧐 It’s all about relativity, comparing one state of slowness to another state. You are intensifying the quality of being slow in that action.

Then we have most slowly. This is the pinnacle (or the nadir, depending on your perspective!) of slowness within a defined group or context. You’re not just comparing two things anymore; you’re picking out the champion of sluggishness from three or more competitors. 🏆🐢

Imagine a group of hikers tackling a steep trail. There’s the super-fit one practically bounding up, the steady-as-she-goes hiker, and then there’s poor old Uncle Bob, stopping every five minutes to “admire the scenery” (translation: catch his breath! 😅). Among this group, Uncle Bob is ascending the trail the most slowly. He is exhibiting the highest degree of slow ascent compared to everyone else. He occupies the extreme end of the ‘slowness’ spectrum in that particular scenario.

Consider different methods of communication. Sending a letter via carrier pigeon, sending an email, sending a text message, having a face-to-face conversation. If you’re ranking them by speed of transmission, the carrier pigeon is almost certainly the method that gets the message across the most slowly in the modern era. 🕊️✉️ It’s about finding the absolute slowest instance within the set you’re considering.

“Of all the software updates I’ve ever downloaded, this one is installing the most slowly,” grumbles the frustrated user, staring intently at a progress bar that hasn’t budged in ten minutes. 💻💤 They’ve experienced many slow downloads before, but this one takes the biscuit for sheer, mind-numbing lack of speed. It’s the ultimate slowpoke download.

Now, let’s talk about that wonderfully messy, slightly confusing corner of English grammar where rules sometimes bend or just flat-out moonwalk away: the use of “slower” as an adverb. 👀 You’ve heard it. I’ve heard it. We all hear it. People say “Drive slower!” or “Talk slower!” And while, technically speaking, slower is the comparative form of the adjective “slow” (e.g., “This car is slower than that one”), using it adverbially is incredibly common in informal English. It’s shorter, punchier, and everyone understands exactly what you mean. Language evolves, folks! What was strictly ‘incorrect’ a few decades ago can become common usage today. Linguists call this descriptive grammar – describing how language is actually used by native speakers, as opposed to prescriptive grammar, which dictates how it should be used according to established rules.

So, while you might hear and understand “drive slower” or “speak slower” in casual conversation (and let’s be honest, you probably use it yourself sometimes! 😉), if you’re aiming for formal writing, academic work, or just want to stick rigidly to the traditional rules for adverbs derived from adjectives, then more slowly is absolutely the correct and preferred choice for the comparative adverb. It shows a command of more formal registers of English. The superlative “slowest” is even less common as an adverb than “slower”. You’d very rarely hear “He ran slowest of all” when describing the manner of running; you’d almost certainly hear “He ran the most slowly of all.” (Though “He was the slowest runner” uses ‘slowest’ as an adjective modifying ‘runner’). See how tricky it gets?

The key takeaway here is that for the standard, grammatically unimpeachable adverbial comparative and superlative of slowly, you reach for more slowly and most slowly. They are clear, they follow the consistent pattern for -ly adverbs, and they will serve you well in all manner of communication, from crafting elegant prose to writing a perfectly clear instruction. ✅ Using them precisely adds a certain polish to your language, showing you understand these nuances of description – the subtle difference between something being merely slow, being comparatively more slowly than something else, or hitting the absolute peak of leisureliness by moving the most slowly of an entire group.

Adverbs are fascinating little words, really. They are the colourful brushstrokes that add detail to the verbs, adjectives, and other adverbs in our sentences. They modify, they specify, they add flavour. And knowing how to use their comparative and superlative forms – like mastering more slowly and most slowly – empowers you to describe the world with greater precision and flair. So, next time you encounter something moving at a snail’s pace, or needing to proceed with extra caution, you’ll know exactly the right words to capture that specific degree of unhurried action. Go forth and use your adverbs accurately and expressively! 👍📚✍️ And perhaps, just perhaps, practice these forms by writing them out… ever so more slowly, focusing on each letter. 😉