E. B. White’s “Plain Style” at 75
publicbooks.org
publicbooks.org
Strunk and White is a classic, sure, which this article helps to put in context. But it’s 75 years old, and it has its problems (as the article discusses). I wouldn’t really recommend it anymore. Instead, have a look at:
Williams and Bizup, Style: Lessons in Clarity and Grace
And, for everything you ever wanted to know about standard American English usage (and how it’s shifting over time!), there is Garner’s Modern English Usage, which sounds dry but is actually fascinating (and inspired this brilliantly controversial review by David Foster Wallace: http://harpers.org/wp-content/uploads/HarpersMagazine-2001-0...).
Probably because it is, as you said, quite literally undervalued.
Coding is just a writing job, so if you don't think that someone would get hired as a staff writer for The New Yorker then I don't see why you'd hire them to write in your codebase. But most companies don't think like that, much less put any actual weight on writing skills during the hiring process.
(But they're hard to find, and many shops are just YOLO about that sort of thing.)
I wish I could go back and apologize to my English teachers along the way for how little effort and respect I offered to them/their courses.
It is distressing how much emphasis is placed on mastering toy Leetcode-style algorithm problems in software career-building (for obvious reasons - they're used in interviews) and how comparatively little we emphasize the skills like writing and public speaking that actually count for some of the most successful tech folks.
I chose it over White's book because of this passage from Clear and Simple as the Truth:
> The best-known teachers of practical style are Strunk and White, in their ubiquitous Elements of Style. The best teachers of practical style are Joseph Williams and Gregory Colomb, in Williams’s Style: Toward Clarity and Grace and a series of academic articles and technical reports. Williams and Colomb present an incomparably deeper and more orderly treatment of practical style. The style they present is consistent and mature; it makes decisions about all the major questions that define a style, and is fully developed.
I almost can’t overstate how much it’s changed how I read and write. Before that book, some writing just felt “clear” and other writing didn’t, but I couldn’t explain why. Now it’s much easier to see how that sense of clarity is created. Even though I don't write for a living and mainly do technical write ups, it was easily worth the time investment.
This video is also good. It has a ton of interesting points, but the part about creating instability in your writing I found particularly useful.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtIzMaLkCaM&ab_channel=UChic...
[1] https://www.amazon.com/Writing-Effective-Cases-Alistair-Cock...
I had no idea the book was so funny:
Wilbur paused and listened. All the other animals lifted their heads and stared at him. Wilbur blushed. But he was determined to get in touch with his unknown friend.
“Attention, please!” he said. “I will repeat the message. Will the party who addressed me at bedtime last night kindly speak up. Please tell me where you are, if you are my friend!”
The sheep looked at each other in disgust.
Geoff Pullum, at Edinburgh, calls it "The Nasty Book", because it makes people needlessly insecure about their writing, and because its supposed rules are not followed by any great writer.
The most damning fact is that, when he produced the second edition after Strunk died, White made up a bunch more phony rules, and then went through Strunk's original text and doctored it to obey them. Then, he failed to obey them in his own text--frequently on the same page where he was advocating them.
There is a certain amount of correct advice, but it is the same as elsewhere, e.g.: "omit needless words". Did we need a book to tell us that?
But his victims love him.
I recommend you cease this activity for karmic reasons.
You might equally argue that spoiled food still contains potentially usable calories, so should not be discarded.
I think this is a key point. In my favorite writing course in college, the professor chose to teach composition from the perspective of legal argumentation. We wrote 4-8 pages per week in the most economical and intentional way possible, poring over every word, every sentence, and every paragraph to make the language easy to understand and to make every word do work.
The professor never pretended that this was the best way to write and never claimed the result would be beautiful, though he did claim that the result would be easy to understand, which it was. Peer editing in that class was the smoothest experience I've ever had in a writing class. But he accomplished something that no other writing instructor did for me before this class: he taught how to make grammar, diction, rhythm, and even connotation an intentional thought process. He also taught how to think clearly about the point you wanted to get across.
That wasn't going to teach any of us beautiful prose or how to craft good plots, but it got us very quickly to the point where our writing style became deliberate.
(I have made this longer than usual because I have not had time to make it shorter.)
I've learned to explain in terms almost stupidly simple because another's interpretation can be so extraordinarily far from your intent you wonder how they even got there. Then they explain how it reads to them, and inside you groan a little because yes, it could be seen to mean that and you had no idea. One needs to user test one's writings just as much as one's software, I've discovered.
[0] WIP
I would argue precisely the opposite.
You can't build beautiful woodworking until you can do a joint reliably and repeatedly. You can't play jazz on your musical instrument until you can play scales reliably and repeatedly.
You had a really excellent writing professor. He completely anchored the fundamentals that you needed. Now you can actually proceed to actually write.
Not going to speak for my own writing, but I completely agree with your point. The better you understand the fundamentals of composition, the better you understand what makes good writing good, how to hone your own style, and how to tailor your writing to the situation.
I think of The Elements of Style as one of those attempts to break writing (in English) down into its mechanical elements. Whether or not I agree with its advice, I respect the approach it tries to take.
When you think you’re done, read your work aloud to yourself or a friend. Find a good editor you can trust and who will spend real time and thought on your work. Try to make life as easy as possible for your editing friends. Number pages and double space.
https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-019-02918-5
https://www.openculture.com/2019/10/novelist-cormac-mccarthy...
This is not just personal distaste. Linguists who know the facts find it intolerable.
i. Never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
ii. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
iii. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
iv. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
v. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
vi. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.
... but I'm well aware of how sensible an asinine prescription can seem to a layperson.Often a long word captures a nuance the short version can't. Its presence, by itself, calls the careful reader's attention to the distinction between it and the shorter word it displaced, without belaboring it.
Metaphors, similes, and figures of speech are the furniture of language. Most words, standing alone, embody one. Orwell certainly did not obey this stricture, or he would have been mute.
A word that could have been cut, but wasn't, calls attention to the choice made not to cut it, inviting curiosity why it wasn't, which you may then answer.
Foreign, technical, and jargon words tell the reader about your context. Substituting a word unfamiliar in that context generates confusion, and questions about what distinction you are trying to make by avoiding the usual word. Sometimes you are, in fact, making such a distinction.
Careful readers learn to recognize when writers are making their choices judiciously, and draw extra meaning from them.
So, better advice would tell you to put each such choice to work on the hard job of communicating.
This is an important point: Learners need to have preferences fed to them, as they have none of their own, but the next step in learning is making your own preferences, not blindly following the ones given to you.
Also, a point of humor I rarely find anyone mention:
> “Omit needless words!”
Ha! And triple ha! How superfluous that is. Why does it need to specify "needless" at all? Are we going to omit essentials? Of course not! And it explicitly says "words" right there. Right there, mind you! What else are we to omit, lemons? Obviously, the dictum must be "Omit!" and it must never be repeated. Superfluity, in this case, does vitiate.
If he had, we would not have the book.