Fisking the Fisker (More on Writing)

You may wonder sometimes about the grammar pedant. Indeed, there have been occasions when I have wondered whether I have evolved into such a creature. However, I realise now that I am not. I don’t come close to adopting the condescending, superior, holier-than-thou attitude needed to qualify (even if I try on occasion ).

One of my articles from last year has been “fisked” by an anonymous commenter on the Devil’s Kitchen. To be strictly accurate, a small quote taken out of context was fisked.

The quote, taken from Longrider’s site, is in need of fisking:

“It is the writer’s responsibility to make every effort to ensure that his prose is legible and easily understood by the reader – it is not the reader’s responsibility to decipher writing that is misspelled, badly constructed and lacking in punctuation.”

On the internet and in print, legibility is rarely a problem. Readability, however, can be and often is. The difference between ‘legible’ and ‘readable’ is important in an essay about careful English.

“That we frequently do is simply…”

This is poor English. If this construction must be persisted with, re-word as “That we frequently do so is simply…” However, “That we frequently have to guess at meaning is simply…” is better.

Anonymous is so quick to dig out the red editing pen, he or she is forgetting that style and modern usage is more relaxed than it once was and writers are no longer required (or expected) to follow strict rules. My prose has always followed the more relaxed modern usage, so the sentence as written scans perfectly well. Indeed, the rewording suggested is clunky and awkward. A matter of opinion perhaps, but if we took everyone to task over such minor matters then where would it end? What matters is that my meaning is clear and that, it clearly is.

To put my original piece into perspective, I was complaining about the generally poor quality of written English that I encounter both on the Internet and in letters, notes and other paper missives. One of the examples discussed was a written letter, the other was from an Internet forum. And when I mean poor, I mean unintelligible to the point where the reader is unable to understand the final output. I am not talking about the finer points of grammar here and never have.

Anonymous seems to think that I am unable to discern the difference between “legible” and “readable”. However, had he or she taken the time to check their dictionary for a current definition, they would realise that there is an overlap between the two:

“capable of being read or deciphered, esp. with ease, as writing or printing; easily readable.”

“legible” From Dictionary.com.

Given that one of the examples I quoted was a paper missive, the word “legible” was not only acceptable in the context used, it was accurate.

Anonymous has treated my words to something akin to that received when I was at school, as my sentences were reconstructed for me to make them more grammatically correct. While this may be so, there is also the matter of usage and style to consider.

In English grammar, there are essential and non-essential rules. A good example of this is the split infinitive. “To boldly go” being the usual example cited. Any other wording here makes the phrase clunky, so splitting the infinitive is acceptable in modern usage, making the rule redundant – or, non-essential. So, too, is the dangling participle an example of a non-essential rule.

“Having said that, if it is too bad I stop trying and subsequently ignore the poster, which is a pity as they may have something interesting to say.”

This is a hanging or dangling participle. The classic example of this type of howler is “Crossing the road, the lorry ran him over”. Was the lorry really crossing the road? If not, re-word as “Crossing the road, he was run over…” Similarly, in the sentence above, “it” did not “say that” – “I” did. Re-word as “Having said that, I stop trying if it is too bad…”

As anonymous points out this may cause confusion. In such cases, then it would become essential. The dangling participle anonymous cites as an example would, indeed, fit the criteria for essential. Mine, however, is perfectly understandable without alteration. Indeed, in modern usage, the dangling participle is not so very unusual. Yes, Anonymous, I do know what a dangling participle is and I am also aware that in modern usage it is regarded as non-essential and this certainly applies in the case quoted. It is a matter of style and style may well override grammatical rules. Rules change as language changes and evolves. If it did not this would be written in Middle English and we would not be using progressive tenses.

Nothing I have written, nor anything written by the Devil’s Kitchen, nor, for that matter does anything I have seen of Lynne Truss’ work suggest that our rules of grammar be preserved in aspic. All three of us have merely asked for clarity in writing; simple structured sentences, some punctuation, please, and capitalisation where appropriate. In other words; get the basics right. We are not asking for grammatical perfection – although it seems others seek it in us for no other crime than daring to seek clarity from others while applying modern usage in our own writing.

If you now learn what constitutes a dangling participle my time won’t have been wasted (and people will no longer smile when you lecture about proper usage).

I was already aware, so it would seem that Anonymous did indeed waste his or her time, but no matter. While I may rail against language that is unintelligible, I would not dream of adopting such a patronising and condescending approach over such a picky rule – not least when that rule is non-essential.

Anonymous’ main thrust is that because my written English does not conform to the strict rules of grammar, then I am wrong to write about poor use of English in others. Here, I have a problem with anonymous just as I have a problem with the author of this article (kindly linked by anon) castigating Lynne Truss.

In the linked article, Benedict le Vay makes exactly the same mistake as Anon; in that he attacks an author for relatively minor transgressions that may be attributed to style, whereas the subject of the criticism was hoping to improve the basic level of understanding among an audience that does not know what a participle is; let alone a dangling one. Indeed, le Vay’s piece is nothing more than a petty and spiteful attack, that is not worthy of comment beyond that. As with my suggestion to Anon, I recommend le Vay checks up on modern usage and style along with current dictionary definitions.

That’s the trouble with grammar pedants, they are so hidebound in their rules, they forget that the rest of the world has moved on. Frankly, though, if we wrote nothing about the levels of literacy we encounter for fear that the pedants will tear us apart, then no one will point out that basic clarity is essential for understanding.

In being just a little too punctilious and superior, Anonymous falls into a trap of his or her own making. In seeking to pull apart my usage, the critique comes across as picky, patronising, pedantic and condescending. I suspect that this was not the intention. However, as I pointed out in my original piece, nuance can be lost in the written word and we need to take care to be sure that we convey our meaning accurately. This is something that DK’s anonymous commenter may want to consider before engaging in undue pedantry in future.