Got an email the other day from, I think, a Mr (and I’m betting it is Mr) E. Palmeri, who signs himself “erp”. He refers to the story I began to tell in a previous posting about Pfizer and its support, via such things as the Pfizer forum, for capitalism and for the free market. Like I say, it is a story, and I ended my posting with those exact words. Which erp took exception to.
“And written or not, like I say, it is a story.”
Like it or not, it’s always as I said, it’s never like I said.
His emphasis on never. erp implies (and this is what got under my skin and provoked all the thoughts that follow), that I don’t know the regular as-I-say rule. Actually I broke this rule on purpose. I was trying to suggest an air of unfinishedness about my thoughts, of me talking aloud rather than presenting the finished article. I was trying to push people into thinking about Pfizer, into finding out about Pfizer, into telling me and the rest of us about Pfizer, not to nail down the final truth of the matter. To this end, I deliberately used the frequently heard by me and quite often said by me unruliness of “like I say”.
erp knows the kind of thing I mean, because the second and final sentence of his email to me goes thus:
Love your blog anyway.
And there goes another grammatical rule, the one about sentences like that one having a subject, in this case a first person pronoun. But we can all see why erp dropped the “I”. Fearful of being thought a pedant and nothing else, he ended with a deliberately colloquialised attempt to soften the blow, which he didn’t intend really to hurt, and as far as I’m concerned it worked fine. Glad you like it mate. Thanks for the kind words.
Why do I make such a fuss about this? Partly it’s a technique thing. erp is complaining about one of the very things that we Samizdatans regularly go out of our way to do, as do a thousand other bloggers. This is a blog that likes to talk in different tones of voice to suit the occasion, and to suit the different voices of the different writers. What, asks Perry in the spiel at the top left, is “on the minds” of the Samizdata people?
This is a good question. And what’s on our minds is not always perfectly grammatical.
One of the best ways to persuade other people to share your thought processes, in our case libertarian thought processes, is to describe your own thought processes accurately. You persuade by writing out how you really do talk in your own head about what you are truly persuaded of. As an editor, I constantly find myself saying to a writer whose writing has got gummed up: “Step away from the keyboard. Tell me, out loud, what you’re trying to say.” Time and again the next thing I say is: “Great. Put that.” If the price I and my writer have to pay is that what’s being said doesn’t get enough of a grammatical polishing to suit all the erps out there, well, so be it. At least there’s a recognisably human voice being used.
Besides which, all these rules can be and are all the time being broken. erp is mistaken. Quite often these day, it is“like I say” whether erp likes it or not. English is not, thank goodness, one of those languages where if you ever stray from the official tracks some committee of erps will tell you to behave yourself or else, which is surely one of the reasons why it has spread so luxuriantly. (The contrast with French is painful, to the French. “But we control our language so much more carefully! Why isn’t it winning?” That could just be one of the reasons it isn’t winning, sunshine. Ever thought about that?) The English language is the ultimate anarchy. If I and thousands of others are saying “like I say”, and the people we’re talking to or for that matter writing for in a blog get what we’re saying (which everybody does including erp, even if they don’t all like it) then there goes that never, never to return.
If you want to be a good writer you probably need to know what most of these rules are, as I do, but you don’t have to follow them slavishly. Writing which is perfectly grammatical can be rather like the music written by all those contemporaries of Mozart, which obeyed all the rules but achieved little else. Mozart, meanwhile, who knew the rules inside out and every which way, would regularly have fun and games breaking them. For a famous and easy-to-find example, try the first few bars of Mozart’s “Dissonance” String Quartet K465. The erps of the day all had seizures.
I’m not saying: “Mozart broke the rules – I break the rules – so I’m Mozart”. I’m merely saying, you can do it. Grammar goblins won’t chase you to hell if you omit a noun or pronoun from the start of a sentence, or if you put like instead of as, or if (to mention some other rules I know about but break from time to time) you end a sentence with a preposition, or if you dare to – sparingly, and when you’ve got a good reason, like when an adverb absolutely has to be right next to the verb it qualifies without so much as a “to” in between, or when you don’t want any confusion about the adverb referring back to something else just before it so you put the “to” between it and what you’re wanting to separate it from, or if, as I am here, you’re having a laugh – split an infinitive.
Life is full of “rules” which in fact aren’t. I still remember the joyful moment when I realised that you don’t have to read a book by starting at the beginning and reading all of it in order. You can start anywhere you like, and stop anywhere you like. If you do this, no one will arrest you. Some dead schoolteacher may be yapping away inside your head when you break such “rules”. If so, think about what he’s yapping, and if you decide you’re not going to do what he wants, tell him to shut up.
Now don’t misunderstand me. I’m not putting a different rule in place to the effect that you should never read a book straight through from beginning to end. I’m just saying, you don’t have to.
This like-as business is trivial but the fact that it’s trivial isn’t so trivial. An essential part of living the free life (and thereby not being inclined to try to inflict unfreedom on others) is deciding which rules you really are going to stick to because you really believe in them, and which rules you’re going to allow yourself and everyone else you have dealings with to play harmless games with.
Loved your email anyway.
