“Omit Needless Words” – But Not Always

I was in high school when I read Strunk and White’s classic The Elements of Style for the first time. I was particularly impressed by their famous command to “omit needless words.” For many years – nay, for decades – I relentlessly hunted down unnecessary words and mercilessly deleted them.

Oops! Make that: hunted down unnecessary words. (“Down” is an unnecessary word.)

In recent years my thinking has changed. I’ve started to realize that repetition and wordiness are built into our language and sometimes serve a useful purpose.

Here’s something you instinctively know but may not be aware of: when it comes to language, longer often sounds better. Many writers unconsciously look for ways to lengthen words.

For example, I’ve noticed that more and more people are saying “first dibs” instead of just “dibs,” which has the same meaning. (There’s no such thing as “second dibs,” right?) Most sometimes becomes utmost. We can even use words to make small things smaller: drop becomes a droplet, and the hint becomes the merest hint.

And did you notice that I wrote “more and more people” in the previous paragraph?

While I was planning today’s post, I remembered an incident in Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind that illustrates our preference for wordiness. Family and friends have gathered to bury Gerald O’Hara, owner of the Tara plantation and father of Scarlett, the novel’s central character.

Because no Catholic priest is available, neighbor (and Scarlett’s secret heartthrob) Ashley Wilkes conducts the graveside service. He comes to the end of the burial prayers and realizes there’s a problem: the Catholic service is too short.

The eyes of the neighbors were expectantly upon him as they settled themselves in easier positions for a long harangue. They were waiting for him to go on with the service, for it did not occur to any of them that he was at the end of the Catholic prayers. County funerals were always long….The neighbors would have been shocked, aggrieved and indignant, had these brief prayers been all the service over the body of their loved friend, and no one knew this better than Ashley.

Ashley’s solution is to improvise a longer service. He’s familiar with the more wordy Episcopal burial prayers because they are used for slave funerals. No one notices what’s going on except Scarlett’s sister Carreen, a devout Catholic who feels betrayed by what Ashley is doing.

I’ll have more to say about Gone with the Wind in my next post. Right now I’d like to spend a few minutes talking about this issue of unnecessary words. Take a look at this sentence:

Joe rides his bike back and forth to school every day.

If you think there’s no redundancy in this sentence, think again. How many times are we told that there’s one person? Three: Joe, rides, and his. And we’re told twice that Joe is male (his masculine name and the pronoun his).

Telephone companies have done extensive research into the inner workings of our language. It makes sense when you think about it: There’s a fine distinction between good-enough technology (a sound business philosophy) and unnecessarily superior technology (bad for the bottom line).

What the phone research showed (reinforced by our own daily experience) is that we can accurately receive a message even if there’s static on the line and a lot of background noise. There’s so much redundancy in our language that we can miss some semantic units and still figure out the gist of what’s being said.

In my own writing, I sometimes allow an unnecessary word to slip into a sentence (sorry, Strunk and White!). For example:

Betsy fell down and cried.

Cheryl’s loud shrieks alarmed the neighbors.

He pressed the foot pedal again, but nothing happened.

The tree fell to the ground with a loud crash.

An editor might argue for deleting the italicized words because they’re not necessary. (I suspect that newspapers are especially wary of unnecessary words because paper is so costly.) I – on the other hand – would be tempted to let the italicized words stand because they reinforce the meaning of the sentence. And here’s something else to think about: words like down, loud, foot, and ground are about the five senses. They give us something to see or hear – more reinforcement.

Bottom line: Strunk and White notwithstanding, I sometimes allow an unnecessary word or two to remain in a sentence. So…how do you decide which words to keep and which to delete? I like to walk away from a finished piece and go back to it the following morning. Reading what I’ve written with fresh eyes allows me to make thoughtful editing decisions. It’s a practice I heartily recommend.

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3 thoughts on ““Omit Needless Words” – But Not Always

  1. Darrell Turner

    I don’t know whether you quoted the passage from “Gone With the Wind” as an example of wordiness in a novel, but I thought it was. Here are some words that could have been omitted:

    “expectantly” in “expectantly upon him”

    “long” in “long harangue”

    “always” in “country funerals were always long”

    “loved” in “loved friend”

    However, I think that each of the adjectives in “shocked, aggrieved and indignant” conveys a nuance that the other two words do not convey.

  2. ballroomdancer Post author

    Wow, Darrell – I wasn’t even thinking about wordiness in that GWTW excerpt. Thanks! I may be using your comments in a future post (let me know if that’s not ok – no problem if you’d rather I didn’t). I was disappointed when I picked up GWTW to write about Gerald’s funeral. Mitchell’s writing isn’t as good as I remembered, and I think you’ve identified one of the reasons. BTW, I agree with you about “shocked, aggrieved and indignant.” Each word conveys a different feeling. Thanks for a provocative comment!

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