Uncage the grammar police, again

A few weeks ago, I wrote about setting the grammar police on the prowl against the use of the inadvertent expression known as the malapropism. Today, I’m uncaging the grammar police again, and writing about the pleonasm.

What the heck is a pleonasm? It’s the use of more words than necessary to convey a point. A pleonasm can be a simple redundant word — such as when a theatre advertises that a particular act is “appearing live.” (Just what other way might it be appearing)? Or it can be a whole phrase, such as “as far as I’m concerned”. (And who else’s concern might you be about to express, assuming you are not a purveyor of rumour and gossip)?

At its worst (or best, depending on your viewpoint), a pleonasm can take a word that is absolute in meaning and attempt to qualify it with a word signifying degrees – thereby shooting down in flames the whole expression. So, for example, you may have an heirloom handed down from Aunt Gertie that is “somewhat unique.” Analytically, this is hogwash: if it’s unique, there’s nothing else like it; and if it’s somewhat unique, it can’t be unique at all, although it may well be rare. So too with sports, where we see such expressions as a “mild slump.” A slump is a slump is a slump, surely: either call it a straight slump or call it something else.

Now if there is any profession that is sufficiently skilled to avoid the pleonasm, it must be journalism; where articles fight for column inches and economy of expression rules all.

Oh really? Let’s take a look for a minute at a front page article from the Globe and Mail of May 28, 2014. The lead story was headlined “Quebec decides shortlst for new justice”, referring to the aftermath of the failed appointment to the Supreme Court of Canada of Federal Court Justice Marc Nadon. The subheading stated that this was a “major turnaround for the Prime Minister.” Isn’t that interesting. What would a minor turnaround look like: a decision to go back home and put on his favourite polka dot tie? If so, would it be the lead story on the front page of Canada’s national newspaper?

The article then calls Harper’s decision to work with a list of candidates supplied by the government of Quebec a “dramatic climbdown.” Not to be confused, of course, with a routine climbdown. The climbdown was dramatic, the author claims, because Harper “almost entirely ignored” possible Quebec candidates. That one’s the trifecta. “Ignore” is one of those absolute words I mentioned before. Harper either ignored Quebec candidates or he didn’t. Which is it? Well, if you just take the qualifier “entirely,’’ you’d have to conclude that the author meant to tell us that Harper plain ignored Quebec candidates. But wait, there’s more: he “almost” did so. But if he “almost” did so, then he didn’t. The threeword edifice crumbles in the face of a gentle critical poke.

The article then goes on to state that the appointment process lies in “apparent ruins.” As opposed to real ruins? Ruins that are not apparent? Ruins that might or might not be ruins, depending upon what happens in the future?

The same author, in the same paper, was at it again on May 29. This time, Harper’s move was a “dramatic about face” after it bypassed “virtually all” Quebec candidates; with the result that Justice Nadon lived in an “often harsh public spotlight.” Again, you wonder what a humdrum about face would look like; whether one, two or 17 potential Quebec candidates were passed over; and when the spotlight on a judicial figure at the centre of a poltiical controversy is ever private, soft, or infrequent.

I should note that the reporter and his editor are not personal friends, nor have they ever been my invited guests. There is no past history between us. In fact, I hope they get lots of major breakthroughs to report on in years to come. And minor ones, sometimes, just to relieve the pressure.

Having dumped on journalists, let me soften up and say pleonasm can be overlooked much more readily in the arts. I’ll be darned if I’m going to be the first one to take on the authors (Thiele and Weiss) of the beloved song delivered by Louis Armstrong. (Yeah, Louis, right: who else can you think that it’s a wonderful world to besides yourself? Your goldfish?). Come to think of it, maybe I’ve been too hard on journalists as well: after all, even columnists sometimes have a tough time completely filling their allotted space.

Time to put the grammar police back in their cages. Or direct them to the Globe and Mail.

dsimmonds@wellingtontimes.ca