Simple and Direct 2
Originally posted 17 September 2017
Here in chapter 2, I think, maybe, I am learning how to read Jacques Barzun’s Simple and Direct. Chapter 2 is titled “Linking, or What to Put Next.” This follows his chapter on diction, which I reacted to in a previous post. As in Chapter 1, Barzun organizes Chapter 2 by presenting brief sections with titles, such as “Links Are Words and Ideas, Both,” “Invariables and Intruders,” and “Pronouns: The Slightest Slip is Fatal.” There are thirteen of these subheadings in this chapter. And what I have realized is that each of these is a short essay in and of itself, a friendly, informal class lecture, if you like.
Reading each lecture resembles perusing Fowler (The Dictionary or Modern English Usage, 2nd ed, 1965) and Follett (Modern American Usage: A Guide, 1966). Oh, and now that I pull those off the bookshelf, I notice that Barzun “edited and completed” Follett’s book after Follett had died. I had forgotten that. The difference between Simple and Direct and the other books is that it is organized by theme or principle rather than by alphabetical order of individual terms or concepts. For instance, in chapter 2, Barzun discusses “The Use and Misues of ‘a’ and ‘the’” (pages 52-55), while Follett’s first entry is “a, an, the,” (pages 33-43). In the same chapter, Barzun includes “Connecting Tense with Sense” (page 80-83), while Follett places similar concerns in “Sequence of Tenses” (300-303).
I have to say I am not sure that Barzun’s method keeps me fully engaged in his project. Sometimes, the leaps in subject matter—for instance, moving from simple syntax (word order issues) to the problems with using “like” and “as”—are jarring. Occasionally, the very narrow focus of a passage leaves me bewildered. I did find portions of this chapter a bit tedious to read. But, boy, did I cheer when he worried over how some writers can’t keep modifiers like “only” in their proper places. How many times have I silently edited some published work that dropped this little word in nonsensical places, as in “The children only would swim in chlorinated pools.” What? They would not dive or stand or talk or toss a ball? No, the sentence should read “The children would swim only in chlorinated pools” or “The children would swim in chlorinated pools only.”
Here are his principles of simple and direct writing dealing with linking:
Principle 6: Respect the integrity of set phrases, partitives, clichés, and complex modifiers.
Principle 7: Ideas connected in reality require words similarly linked, by nearness or by suitable linking words.
Principle 8: For a plain style, avoid everything that can be called roundabout—in idea, in linking, or in experience.
Principle 9: Agreement is as pleasant in prose as it is in personal relations, and no more difficult to work for.
Principle 10: Cling to your meaning. The tense or mood of a verb in a linked pair can destroy it.
Breaking these principles creates these kinds of sentences:
1. Demonstrators sometimes have and sometimes not interfered with rights of others.
2. It is a work not easily found like his later ones.
3. She was sitting, the hostess, on the davenport of her long narrow parlor on one of New York’s East Seventieth streets.
4. I was born on November 29 in the early hours of the morning, while my father was away preaching in a neighboring town. This only happened twelve times a year.
5. There had been fear in his face and for a moment it had been as if I was looking at a person I have never seen before.
I include the fourth sentence above because I remember that as a beginning writer I had great difficulty avoiding sentences that began with a poorly linked “this” or “it.” Teachers marked that carelessness often in my essays. I include the fifth sentence because the use of the subjunctive is, to me, both fascinating and difficult. I find Barzun’s discussion of “who” and “whom” entertaining—we could banish “whom” if people would only cease using it incorrectly. (I happen to disagree because I know how to use “whom” and think everyone should also.)
However, my favorite section of the second chapter concerns “like” and “as.” First, after listening to my fifteen-year old son sprinkle his sentences with the unneeded “like,” I was reminded that this verbal tic has been a consistent torment for at least fifty years. I mean, like, Barzun, was, like, bothered that people, like, said it, like, back in the sixties. Second, I didn’t know that “like,” when drawing comparisons, tends to work best with nouns and “as” tends to pair with verbs, as in “She looks like her cousin” and “Do as I say, not as I do.” Plus, it is good to remember that “like” and “as” are not perfect synonyms. The following two sentences do not mean the same things: 1) The man went to the bank to borrow money like his brother, and 2) The man went to the bank to borrow money as his brother. I find these kinds of distinctions fascinating.