Dumbing down, bumping up

By James Kilpatrick | Posted: Sunday, December 14, 2008 12:00 am

Those of us who write for a living face the same problem that Goldilocks faced when she broke into the home of the three bears. The precocious toddler found one bowl of porridge too hot and another bowl too cold. The third bowl was just right, so she ate it all up and was jailed as a juvenile delinquent.

No, that was not the way the story ended, but it illustrates the problem that professional writers must confront every day. In putting together a paragraph, do we dumb down? Do we bump up? Or do we strive for a prose style that is just right?

We've discussed the writer's dilemma many times in this column. How many "big words" may a writer risk before his readers turn away? What allusions need no explanatory amplification? Must we dissect Achilles' heel?

Today's thumb-sucking is prompted by a purging of the redundancy file. Here was an old column in The Washington Post by Colbert King; he referred to a "sworn affidavit" by an agent of the FBI. Next to it was a clipping about outfielder Barry Bonds, whose legal troubles "bespeak an old cliche."

Now you know, and I know, because we are such superior beings, that every affidavit must be sworn and every cliche is inherently old. We know that the nape is the back of one's neck. All fundamentals are "basic fundamentals." Surely it is sufficient to report that on Wall Street the day's ups and downs cancel each other, not that they also cancel each other OUT!

Let me offer an old rule against redundancy. It comes from two widows, both of them high-church Episcopalians, who lived long ago in Richmond, Va. Every February they made a pact: They would not have a drink during Lent unless they really needed one.

Speaking of redundancy, Stephen Kruger, an attorney in Cyberspace, cites a recent headline in The Wall Street Journal: "Detroit Automakers a Relic of the Past." His point is that there are no relics of the future. Mary Ellen Pollack of Columbus, Ohio, sends along an item in the same vein from the American Association of Retired Persons: "To be a young boy in World War II Italy did not make for an idyllic childhood." Writers must be careful to distinguish old boys from young boys, though sometimes it's hard to tell.

Moving imperceptibly along, Thomas L. Friedman of The New York Times is a clear thinker and a fine writer, but last month he inquired of the president-elect: "How long of a honeymoon will Obama give the world?" Let us eliminate that "of." It doesn't take up much space, but in today's economy, every redundant letter counts.

Writing in the Chicago Tribune last month, columnist Steve Chapman began a think piece: "Obama can't flout a military record, but his strengths have a way." Wrong verb! To flout something is to treat it with "contemptuous disregard," the very worst kind.

The writer wanted "flaunt," defined as "to wave or flutter showily."

Evidently "flaunt" and "flout" are often confused, for the Webster's 11th Collegiate gives them a long usage note. One of the Horrid Examples is attributed to columnist Mike Royko: "The proper pronunciation," the blonde said, flouting her refined upbringing, "is 'pree-feeks.'"

An inquiry comes from Norma W. Allen in Palm Beach, Fla. She encloses a critic's comment that a visiting ballerina "shined with her ethereal movement." She asks, isn't the proper past tense "shone"? Once again, as in the case of "sprang" and "sprung," the choice is a writer's choice. Do we want a long "i" or a long "o"? Remember that old Kentucky home? It's where the sun shined bright, except on days when it shone.

(Readers are invited to send dated citations of usage to Mr. Kilpatrick in care of this newspaper. His e-mail address is kilpatjj(at)aol.com.)

(EDITORS: For editorial questions, please contact Greg Melvin at gmelvin@amuniversal.com.)