Some Redundancies Are Harmless Devices That Soften A Sentence

The Court of Peeves, Crotchets & Irks opens its winter assizes with complaints against a plethora of redundancies. The court has reviewed the petitions, and after mature consideration will deny a few, grant a few, and waffle on the rest.

Carol K. Parr of Saginaw, Mich., asks for a permanent injunction against redundant prepositions. She writes:

"Chefs use terms such as `browning off' the meat. They do not simmer liquid to reduce the quantity; they simmer to `reduce down' the amount of liquid. They also `weigh off' ingredients. An artist who offers lessons on PBS is especially prone to such phrases as `diffuse out,' `erase out,' `evaporate out' and `dilute down.' Our local TV station has a weather announcer who tells what weather we will have `all throughout the viewing area.' I thought `throughout' meant `all through.' "

Subject to certain general comments to be made hereafter, the injunction will be granted. There is no excuse for "reduce down" or "erase out." Properly speaking, we do not connect two lines together; we simply connect them. We do not inquire where the gin is at. It is more genteel to inquire, "Where the hell is the gin?" Should the court continue on?

David Baskind of Saginaw echoes his neighbor's complaint. He objects to, "You can write to him at . . ." The sentence would be simplified, he remarks, by dropping the redundant "to," thus leaving "You can write him at . . ." The court will decline the opportunity to discuss the difference between "may" and "can," and will rule simply that the "to" is a benign redundancy. It is not to be condemned out of hand.

As a general rule, brevity is good, prolixity is bad, but this is not a bright-line rule. There are times when an extra word or syllable will ease the flow of a sentence and save it from the vice of abruptness. But the court adds an admonition: When a writer uses apparently unnecessary words, the writer had better have a good reason for his choice.

Steve Lange of Jensen Beach, Fla., is peeved by what he regards as an unnecessary "yet." He cites an Associated Press story in October about the Yankees' sweep of the Atlanta Braves in the World Series. The writer noted that shortstop Derek Jeter had acquired "yet another World Series ring." He also cites a letter to the editor of The Stuart News from a correspondent complaining that the Martin County commission was proposing "yet another study by a committee or a consultant."

The court will deny a restraining order. Here the "yet" serves a useful purpose. It provides an element of emphasis that would be lost without the intensifier. If the grumpy citizen had written only that the commissioners "want another study," his bottled indignation would have lost its fizz.

George Topka of Travelers Rest, S.C., and Lew Cady of Denver are irked by the same construction. Reader Cady winces at, "Western Union does business in one hundred and thirty countries." Reader Topka wants an injunction against a measure of "two hundred and thirteen feet." He asks, "Two hundred what and thirteen feet? Could it be two hundred yards and thirteen feet?"

Injunction denied. The court holds that the probabilities of misunderstanding are somewhere between infinitesimal and nil when we are told that a quarterback passed for "four hundred and seventeen yards." The "and" may be padding, but it is harmless padding.

Columnist Heloise writes from San Antonio to ask about a phrase in a column by Ellen Goodman. She said of Martin Luther King Jr. that "the sum total of his estate was a $50,000 insurance policy bought for him by Harry Belafonte." The court will rule that a single item cannot constitute a "sum total." If we add the annual bills for electricity, the annual bills for gas and the annual bills for water, we get a sum total for utilities. Otherwise we have a simple total that seems to get larger all the time.

On that morose note the court will take a week's recess for contemplation of a paragraph from a memoir of evangelist Johnny Bisagno: "He was a charismatic preacher of Italian extraction who, like I, played the trumpet. He had been, like I, a jazz musician, but unlike I, he had given up the night life . . ." The court has been asked to construe those first-person nominative pronouns, and the court needs to think.

Copyright 2000, Universal Press Syndicate The Writer's Art by James J. Kilpatrick appears Sunday in the Scene section. Address comments or questions to: Writer's Art, c/o Newsroom, The Seattle Times, P.O. Box 70, Seattle, WA 98111.