Tuesday, June 11, 2013

A style guide for the music biz

Now there’s a style guide for the music biz:

Don’t use ampersands when two artists collaborate, the guide cautions, unless they are as inseparable as Hootie & the Blowfish. Beware excessive description when identifying artists, such as “Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin,” or “Jimi Hendrix (Guitarist).” Avoid using “random capitalization” in song titles such as “a TIMe to love.”

Grammar Rocks: These New Punctuation Rules Are fo’ Realz (Wall Street Journal)
Despite the Wall Street Journal article’s title and opening reference to Strunk and White, the Music Metadata Style Guide makes no mention of grammar or punctuation. NONe. Or none. It covers the more mundane matters of capitalization, spelling, and metadata entry. See for yourself: fill out a form to get a free copy.

I especially like these sentences from the guide:
Genres must not be egregiously misclassified (for example, Hip Hop in place of Children’s Music). For a complete list of acceptable genres, contact your Digital Merchant Store.
Yep, it’s a business.

[Merriam-Webster spells hip-hop with an apostrophe.]

Monday, June 10, 2013

Pinker on Strunk and White

On September 12, 2012, Steven Pinker gave a lecture at MIT, “The Sense of Style: Scientific Communication for the 21st Century.” Much of what he says about good prose in this lecture is unobjectionable. And much of it is familiar:

§ “The Sense of Style” (also the title of a forthcoming book) acknowledges and draws generously from Francis-Noël Thomas and Mark Turner’s Clear and Simple as the Truth: Writing Classic Prose, whose exposition of “classic style” — embodying particular understandings about language, truth, and the purpose of writing — furnishes Pinker with a model for good scientific writing.

§ Joseph Williams’s Style: Lessons in Clarity and Grace informs Pinker’s discussions of metadiscourse (writing about one’s writing) and sentence structure (“Push new, complex units of information to the end of the sentence,” as Williams puts it).

§ Longer versions of Pinker’s brief catalogue of unfounded usage rules (for example, don’t end a sentence with a preposition) can be had from many sources. Try a Google search for grammar myth as a start.

§ Pinker’s example of postmodern prose is the Judith Butler sentence that Dennis Dutton singled out for his 1998 Bad Writing Contest.

§ The closing tongue-in-cheek example of good prose, a child’s essay grounded in careful observation, may be found in Sir Ernest Gowers’s Plain Words

There is nothing new under the sun, as someone once said.

What most troubles me about Pinker’s lecture though is its opening discussion of Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style. Why begin with The Elements? Because, Pinker says, it’s the book that his Harvard colleagues recommend to their graduate students for help with writing. In clearing a space for his own work, Pinker misrepresents The Elements, even as he acknowledges, briefly, the book’s “good sense and charm.”²

And so it is that I find myself writing once again in defense of The Elements, a book I do not use in my teaching, a book I hadn’t thought of for many years, not until Geoffrey Pullum’s 2009 fiftieth-anniversary appraisal prompted me to read it again. Whatever. I’m interested, always, in accuracy, and I don’t like misrepresentation, particularly when it comes from those who should know better. Pinker should know better. But his presentation of Strunk and White is an assemblage of misinformation, decontextualization, received ideas, and misunderstandings. For example:

Misinformation
“White had kept his professor’s course notes, turned them into a book with the permission of his estate, and it is now by far the best known manual on writing style.” One need only read the introduction to The Elements to get the story of the book’s making. That Pinker gets it wrong makes me wonder whether his remarks on The Elements come from an engagement with the text or from reading what others have written about it.

Decontextualization
Pinker quotes Strunk and White: “Write with nouns and verbs.” The MIT audience laughs hard at that. But in context, this sentence is sound advice that can also be had from many sources that postdate The Elements of Style : rely on nouns and verbs, not adjectives and adverbs. (My homemade examples of the inanity Strunk and White seek to discourage: “the cold, round doorknob,” “wept sadly.”)

Received ideas
Yes, there are recommendations in The Elements that now look dated or merely odd. Pinker comments on Strunk and White’s warning against contact (as a verb), their preference for persons to people (with words of number), and their strange advice about the word clever as it applies to horses and people (or persons). Jan Freeman addressed these three matters in “Clever Horses,” a 2009 Boston Globe column on unhelpful advice in The Elements.

A received idea and a misunderstanding
Pinker repeats Geoffrey Pullum’s claim that this Strunk and White sentence contradicts its own advice: “The subject of a sentence and the principal verb should not, as a rule, be separated by a phrase or clause that can be transferred to the beginning.” Pinker sees the sentence as an example of “inept guidance”: I don’t believe this was ironic," he says. But it is. John Gruber pointed out the joke in 2009. There are whole paragraphs in The Elements (about the dangers of overstatement and qualification) that work the same way, cheekily, glaringly contradicting the advice they offer. These touches of wit acknowledge the reader’s intelligence and set The Elements apart from straightforward textbooks.

A received idea and a misunderstanding
Pinker repeats the canard that The Elements prohibits the use of the passive voice. Contra Strunk and White, says Pinker, “There is a need for the passive, if you understand what grammatical constructions are for.” But Strunk and White agree with him: “This rule [‘Use the active voice’] does not, of course, mean that the writer should entirely discard the passive voice, which is frequently convenient and sometimes necessary.” The Elements has sample sentences that show how the choice of active or passive voice shapes meaning: “The need to make a particular word the subject of the sentence will often, as in these examples, determine which voice is to be used.” In other words, Strunk and White say exactly what Pinker presents them as not saying.

Decontextualization, received ideas, and a misunderstanding
If you have followed the fortunes of The Elements of Style in recent years, you may have already guessed that Pinker, like Pullum, charges Strunk and White with grammatical incompetence: “They had a rather shaky grasp of basic grammatical constructions, such as the passive voice,” Pinker says. “Neither of them knew anything about linguistics or grammatical theory.” Pinker’s slides include this one, which follows Pullum in claiming that Strunk and White go wrong with three of four examples of the passive voice:


[Pinker’s slide follows the sequence in which Pullum quotes these sentences, not the sequence in which they appear in The Elements .]

As I wrote in 2009, Pullum ignores the sentences that precede these examples in The Elements. Pinker ignores them too.³ Those sentences establish without question that the four examples are not presented as four examples of the passive voice:

The habitual use of the active voice, however, makes for forcible writing. This is true not only in narrative concerned principally with action but in writing of any kind. Many a tame sentence of description or exposition can be made lively and emphatic by substituting a transitive in the active voice for some such perfunctory expression as there is or could be heard. [My emphasis.]
One more misunderstanding
A larger misunderstanding shapes Pinker’s presentation of The Elements of Style : the claim (following Thomas and Turner) that Strunk and White focus only on the surface features of writing, that they lack what Pinker calls a “principled understanding of how language and style work.” Much depends upon what one means by “principled understanding” and “how language and style work.” The claim, though, that Strunk and White focus only on surface features of language, on arbitrary dos and don’ts and pet peeves, is not one that The Elements supports. The book presents style as a matter of concision, transparency, and tact. Or to use White’s series, “plainness, simplicity, orderliness, sincerity,” all of which is not far from Thomas and Turner’s model of “classic style.” Strunk thinks of good writing as a work of elegant design:
A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts.
White understands style, whatever form it may take, not as a matter of correcting errors or adding finishing touches but as something inseparable from writing:
Young writers often suppose that style is a garnish for the meat of prose, the sauce by which a dull dish is made palatable. Style has no such separate entity; it is nondetachable, unfilterable.
His most important addition to Strunk’s work, the chapter “An Approach to Style,” is as much a guide to conduct as to writing: “Do not overstate”; “Do not affect a breezy manner.”

It is ironic that a lecture promulgating the “classic style,” a mode of writing that, as Pinker puts it, points to “something in the world which the reader can see with his own eyes,” should offer such an inaccurate picture of The Elements of Style . I cannot find on my shelves the book that Pinker describes. I agree with him that The Elements is not the best choice for teaching writing in the twenty-first century. The book is temporally incorrect, badly dated. But I also find myself agreeing with Bryan Garner’s appraisal:
This little book has inspired hundreds of thousands of people to write better — partly by precept and partly by example. It continues to influence more writers than any other. It’s a force for good in the world.
Pinker will have to work hard to displace The Elements : as I write, the fourth-edition paperback is the top-selling book in three Education and Reference categories at Amazon.

*

December 20, 2014: I’ve written a review of The Sense of Style.

Related reading
All Strunk and White posts (Pinboard)
Another Elements error
The Elements of Style, one more time (A review)
Hardly (adverb) convincing (adjective) (Do Strunk and White prohibit adjectives and adverbs?)
Pullum on Strunk and White
Strunk and White and wit

¹ Perhaps Gower found it here.

² Perfunctory praise followed by extended criticism is a standard academic gesture. See also Stanley Fish’s comments on The Elements of Style in How to Write a Sentence . In clearing space for his own work, Fish too misrepresents Strunk and White.

³ There is a mistake to be fixed: as I pointed out in 2009, Strunk and White’s second improved sentence — “The cock’s crow came with dawn” — has an intransitive verb, not a transitive in the active voice. Whether that mistake signifies anything more than random oversight is another question. And if it doesn’t go without saying: understanding the passive and its appropriate uses does not require a background in linguistics or grammatical theory. See, for instance, the discussion for the general reader in John Trimble’s Writing with Style.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

New York cheesecake

Bill Madison presents the World’s Best Recipe for Authentic New York Cheesecake. Good reading for bakers and non-bakers alike.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Jonah Lehrer, Jonah Lehrer

Leopards, spots. Daniel Engber wonders: Is There Plagiarism in Jonah Lehrer’s New Book Proposal?

A related post
Proust Was a Neuroscientist was disappointing

Chicago possessives

Sometimes it helps to look things up. Sections 7.17 and 7.18 of The Chicago Manual of Style will make my typing life a little simpler:


[The Chicago Manual of Style, 16th ed. (2010).]

In 7.19 and 7.20, Chicago allows exceptions for nouns that are plural in form but singular in meaning (such as politics and the United States) and for “a few for . . . sake ex­pressions used with a singular noun that ends in an s end in an apostro­phe alone, omitting the additional s” (for goodness’ sake, for righteousness’ sake). But for all other singular words and names: ’s.

And now I’m trying to remember who it was who proclaimed, not long ago, that nobody writes “Charles’s friend.” Anyone know? The context was most likely a Strunk-and-White bashing, as Charles’s friend is the first example illustrating the first rule of usage in The Elements of Style.

[That first rule: “Form the possessive singular of nouns by adding ’s.” The Elements of Style also recommends the apostrophe-only for names from antiquity. Garner’s Modern American Usage (2009) retains that distinction: “Biblical and Classical names that end with a /zǝs/ or /eez/ sound take only the apostrophe.” I wonder whether Bryan Garner (who wrote the Chicago chapter on grammar and usage) will follow Chicago in any later GMAU.]

Domestic comedy

“You missed my joke.”

“You missed my getting your joke and ignoring it.”

Related reading
All domestic comedy posts (Pinboard)

[A note to my fellow husbands: sometimes the only way to determine the line between charming and impertinent is to cross it.]

Thursday, June 6, 2013

No MOOCs

An excerpt from a letter in the June 10 New Yorker, responding to the magazine’s article about Harvard University and MOOCs. The writer, Lori Isbell, teaches English at Yavapai College, a community college in Arizona:

After twenty years of teaching, I am confident that what makes the most difference in the learning and the lives of students is one-on-one instruction and the kind of human interaction that only traditional classroom settings can provide. MOOCs aren’t about democratizing and furthering education; they’re about saving money, making money, and keeping money in the corrupt marriage between business and academe.
Yes, exactly, and all the futurist rhetoric in the world won’t make it otherwise.

Related posts
“A fully-realized adult person”
The New Yorker on MOOCs
Offline, real-presence education
San José profs nix Harvard MOOC

Digital-naïf watch

A word to the unwise: it is ill-advised to post a photograph of your college ID, with your full name and student-identification number, as proof that you are now “officially” a college student. It is also uncool.

Related posts
Digital naïfs
Digital naïfs in the news
The F word (Find)

[As I wrote in the first of these related posts, “Many so-called digital natives are in truth digital naïfs. The natives’ naïveté is considerable.”]

Brooklyn Castle


[Rochelle Ballantyne.]

The documentary Brooklyn Castle (dir. Katie Dellamaggiore, 2012) tells the story of the chess team from Brooklyn’s Intermediate School 318, a team that has won more national chess championships than any other. We watched last night, having played and won with the Netflix Gambit (that is, having managed the queue so as to get the film the day after its release on DVD). The film reminded me of Mad Hot Ballroom : here too we get to see absolute dedication to an art, in a film that is funny, happy, poignant, and inspiring. May everyone at I. S. 318 go far.

The school’s chess teacher and coach Elizabeth Spiegel, speaking in the film:

“Learning chess and becoming good at chess and having to solve your own problems of how you teach yourself things is fantastic for kids. Maybe in this world in which more and more kids can only concentrate for ten minutes, in fact it’s exactly what we need.”
Rochelle Ballantyne, a 318 alum, is now headed for college and is likely to become the first African-American female chess master.

Here’s the film’s website.

[Brooklyn: represent!]

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

At the Dr. Grabow plant


[Popular Mechanics, September 1970.]

“The machines that make Grabows have no name outside the factory, and no use outside pipe manufacturing. The factory has its own lingo heard nowhere else: machines called frazers, procedures known as tripoling”: from a look at life in the Dr. Grabow plant in Sparta, North Carolina.

Fraise (that’s the correct spelling) and Tripoli (spelled with or without a capital) are nouns new to me. The OED has fraise: “A tool used for enlarging a circular hole.” The fraise isn’t limited to pipemaking: an OED citation refers to marble-workers using this tool. Fraise is also French for strawberry, which makes an image search for the tool amusing. (Search for fraise tool instead.)

As for Tripoli, this OED definition sounded plausible to me: “A fine earth used as a polishing-powder, consisting mainly of decomposed siliceous matter, esp. that formed of the shells of diatoms; called also infusorial earth or rotten-stone.” A trip to Google Books clinched it:


[William Augustin Brennan, Tobacco Leaves: Being a Book of Facts for Smokers (1915).]

Here too, use extends well beyond pipemaking. (Tripoli buffing compound, “for polishing aluminum, stainless steel, and wood”: as advertised here.)

The last time I saw someone smoking a pipe, the bowl had three or four inches of cigar in it. Before that? I can’t remember when I last saw someone smoking a pipe. But I do remember seeing the name Dr. Grabow back in my tobacco-stained past.

And speaking of the past, the OED dates fraise to 1874; Tripoli, to 1601. Old-time ways in Sparta.

Thanks to Mike at Brown Studies for passing on the link to the Grabow story.