Anne Curzan, Says Who? A Kinder, Funner Usage Guide for Everyone Who Cares about Words (New York: Crown, 2024). $29.
“Everyone who cares about words”: that would include me, and the first thing I had to think about when I sat down to type this review was how to punctuate that title: should a colon follow the question mark? I’ll look it up later.
In thirty-three short chapters, Anne Curzan, a linguist and University of Michigan professor, presents assorted matters of grammar, punctuation, usage, and style, with recommendations, what she calls a “bottom line,” for thinking about each. Again and again I found myself at odds with her perspective. Part of what put me off, wrongly or rightly, is the book's relentless cheeriness: the “kinder, funner ” of the title, the too-frequent use of exclamation points. An example chosen at random: “The apostrophe’s territory is said not to include marking plurals — except for the few cases where it does!”
A larger problem is Curzan’s division of the individual psyche into “grammando” and “wordie.” She borrows “grammando” (such a violent name) from a 2012 New York Times column: “One who constantly corrects others’ linguistic mistakes.” Notice that the grammando is cast only as a listener or reader, a cranky, “judgy” listener or reader who reacts to others’ misuses of language, wanting to shout “Wrong!” or pull out a red pen when a speaker or writer makes a mistake. She seems to forget that someone with a keen attention to language is first of all attentive to getting things right in their own speech and writing and to recognizing the standards appropriate to different forms of discourse.
In contrast to the “grammando,” a “wordie” is “someone who delights in language’s shifting landscape.” The “wordie” too is, at least primarily, a listener and reader, a generous and joyous one willing to accept what the “grammando” would regard as wrong. “Enjoy the humor of a well-placed figurative literal,” Curzan urges. But is the speaker or writer trying to be funny? “Be generous when you see a dangling or misplaced modifier in writing,” Curzan suggests. But if I see one in my own prose, dammit, I’m going to fix it. If someone says they “could care less,” Curzan reminds us that semantic change is “often interesting and fun to learn about.” And we might think of “the reason is because” not as redundancy but as “mirroring,” something “aesthetically pleasing.” As for bumbled apostrophes, “we all mess them up.” Yes, and some of us read our writing carefully and try to catch them, as of course Curzan herself does.
The “inner grammando” this book imagines in its reader must be, like Rick in Casablanca, misformed: advice in Says Who? often takes up questions and prohibitions that no one knowledgeable about language would recognize as genuine: whether ain’t is a word; whether and can begin a sentence; whether none must always be singular; whether a preposition can end a sentence. Advice about these matters at times proceeds from contradictory premises. With the Oxford comma, for instance, Curzan suggests that we might use it when it‘s useful and omit it when it isn’t. But to make singular nouns ending in -s possessive, she suggests always using -’s, because doing so means “fewer decisions to make.” Curzan here and there falls into the tricky “Jane Austen” fallacy, the idea that past usage legitimizes present usage. That Shakespeare wrote “between you and I” doesn’t mean it’s appropriate to do so today. As Curzan herself is always reminding the reader, language changes, so why invoke Shakespeare’s usage as legitimizing ours?
Curzan's attitude toward what she calls standardized English (in other words, the prestige dialect of English, what many would call Standard Written English) is also contradictory. She calls standardized English
the password to jobs and connections with lots of social and economic power. We as speakers, writers, readers, and listeners have the responsibility to decide if and how we want to change that password, which is a key goal of this book.
But one page later Curzan refers to those who understand “the formal, standardized written variety [of English] in the context of all the varieties of English out there” — which would seem to suggest that standardized English is here to stay.
I’d like to see that password made available to all American students, with excellent instruction in reading and writing from the earliest grades, instruction that honors a student’s home language(s) while never discounting the importance of the prestige dialect. As Bryan Garner says of “Standard English,”
“without it, you won’t be taken seriously.”
A passage that sums up my quarrel with this book:
I think it is worth asking whether these feelings we harbor about the importance of getting our commas “right” and of getting them “right” in the same way each time are the best use of our time and energies.
Heck, at least one of the best uses.
I do like the footnote that Curzan appends to formal writing to explain her use of singular
they :
I am choosing to use singular gender-neutral they in this text. It is the most widely used singular generic pronoun in the spoken language and provides a useful, inclusive, concise solution to the issue in the written language as well.
You may have noticed a singular
they of mine in this post.
A related post
Anne Curzan and Bryan Garner on “the reason is because”
[About the book’s title: The copyright page shows a colon after the question mark. But
The Chicago Manual of Style (17th ed. at 14.96) says, “When a main title ends with a question mark or an exclamation point, no colon is added before any subtitle.” One observation about correcting other people’s language: notice that all OCA
“How to improve writing” posts are about professional prose. And I don’t know anyone rude enough to correct speech in everyday life.]
[The New York Times, September 14, 2024. Click for a larger view.]
