Building Great Sentences (17 page)

As I've previously acknowledged, a formally balanced sentence, a sentence whose message is interrupted by a colon or a semicolon but inexorably deflating, inverting, or otherwise recasting that message by the one that follows the colon or semicolon, often waiting until the very last word of the second clause to spring the sentence's rhetorical trap, also displays a high degree of suspensiveness. “The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings; the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries,” intoned Churchill, pausing, no doubt, to let that final word sink in. We will consider balanced sentences and balanced form more in future chapters.

Mini-Scripting

Finally, I want to mention a very prevalent practice that certainly promotes suspensiveness in our sentences, but isn't predictable enough for us to call a pattern. We might call this phenomenon “mini-scripting.”

Earlier, I detailed a range of sentence openers that automatically delay the completion of a sentence. Primarily these were conditional constructions, such as phrases and clauses starting with
if
,
since
,
because
,
although
,
when
,
even
, and numerous combinations of those words to posit conditions that must be met before something can happen—combinations such as
even when
and
even if
. Likewise, time markers such as
until
and
before
and
after
and
during
, when used to specify a temporal or chronological condition, will introduce phrases that ensure some degree of suspensiveness in a sentence. Here's an example:

Before I enter another tennis tournament, before I risk another embarrassing first-round defeat, and before I add to the mounting evidence that my athletic days are over, I need to develop a dependable topspin backhand.

That pattern depends on opening a sentence with an invocation of a condition that requires completion or clarification. For instance, if a sentence opens by positing some condition that must be met or avoided before something else can occur, then that sentence will create some degree of suspense. If the initial “if” clause is then followed by one or more other “if” clauses, if the number of preconditions grows, and if the completion of the sentence is delayed more and more by a cascade of “if” clauses, the degree of suspensiveness can become quite pronounced. The same goes for sentences that start with words such as
since
,
because
,
even
, and
although
.
When
can also be used as a conditional rather than just as a marker of time, as we can see in a fabulous sentence from Winston Churchill:

When the terrible German armies, which had held half Europe in their grip, recoiled on every front, and sought armistice from those upon whose lands even then they still stood as invaders; when the pride and will-power of the Prussian race broke into surrender and revolution behind the fighting lines; when then that Imperial Government which had been for more than fifty fearful months the terror of almost all nations, collapsed ignominiously, leaving its loyal faithful subjects defenseless and disarmed before the wrath of the sorely wounded, victorious Allies, then it was that one corporal, a former Austrian house-painter, set out to regain all.

As Churchill's deliciously suspended sentence reminds us, conditional opening constructions serve much more important functions than just delaying the end of the sentence, as they specify the conditional relationships that govern much of our experience of the world. Boiled down to its propositional core, Churchill's sentence specifies, “When these conditions prevailed, an Adolf Hitler became possible.”

Prefabricated Suspensive Words and Phrases

But, in addition to the formal and largely conceptual strategies for specifying conditions I've described in this delaying strategy, suspensive sentences can be generated simply by starting sentences with certain words. This new category of suspensive structures consists largely of “phatic” expressions whose functions are more social than discursive, frequently adding little or no propositional meaning to the sentences they extend. These are the structures of mini-scripting. They can be found almost anywhere within a sentence but are most frequently used to open sentences or to interrupt their flow. These are the prefab words and phrases we drop into our sentences like Styrofoam packing peanuts, not so much to protect something fragile as to discourage readers from handling the goods. They serve as syntactic speed bumps to slow our sentences down, making them a bit more suspensive.

As unlikely as it may seem, these are words and phrases that amazingly enough add no discursive meaning to the sentence, in a way just marking time and taking up space, as we can see in this very sentence, with its gratuitous use of “as unlikely as it may seem,” “amazingly enough,” “in a way,” and “as we can see.” Some of these phrases have very little serious propositional content, some take on what meaning they have from the context of the sentence in which they appear, and some are virtually nonsensical. For instance, we may plop down at the outset of a sentence the phrase “it goes without saying”:

It goes without saying that Kinky Friedman, semiserious detective novelist, sometime idiosyncratic country western singer, and full-time cornpone pundit, was not a particularly viable political candidate.

Or:

Kinky Friedman, semiserious detective novelist, sometime idiosyncratic country western singer, and full-time cornpone pundit, it goes without saying, was not a particularly viable political candidate.

No matter where it appears in the sentence, “it goes without saying” could be removed from the sentence with no loss of propositional content but suggesting, as it does, that what is being said does not really need to be said, a somewhat paradoxical acknowledgment that just perhaps it does need to be said after all. Clearly this phrase adds emphasis to the end of the sentence when placed just before its predicate (“was not a particularly viable candidate”), and clearly it prepares us for some impending truth when placed at the beginning of the sentence, and clearly in both positions it delays the completion of the sentence by four words, thus adding slightly to the sentence's suspensiveness when used at its beginning and serving as a more distinct speed bump when used near its end. But, in the final analysis, after all is said and done, if truth be known, this phrase, much like “in the final analysis,” “after all is said and done,” and “if truth be known,” adds little or no meaning to the sentence. It is, in fact, a primarily phatic utterance—a step the sentence takes that marches in place rather than going anywhere.

Phatic Utterances as Suspensive Agents

We get the concept of a phatic utterance from pioneering anthropologist and ethnographer Bronislaw Malinowski, who advanced his description of “phatic communion” in his essay “The Problem of Meaning in Primitive Languages,” published in 1923 in C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards's groundbreaking book
The Meaning of Meaning
. While Malinowski's essay refers to “primitive languages” and his research focused on natives in the Trobriand Islands off the coast of New Guinea, he specifies at several points in his discussion of phatic utterances that they function in essentially the same way whether in savage or highly civilized cultures.

Savage and civilized cultures share a tradition of phatic communion, which Malinowski describes as “a type of speech in which ties of union are created by a mere exchange of words.” This is language used “in free, aimless, social intercourse . . . deprived of any context of situation.” Phatic utterances, such as formulas of greeting—“Hi!” “How are you?” “How's it going?”—are not intended to inform, not intended to express a thought, but, as Malinowski says, “serve to establish a common sentiment, an atmosphere of sociability.” Phatic utterances frequently affirm “some supremely obvious state of things”—“Nice day, isn't it?”—and begin to serve a social function just by breaking silence, since, as Malinowski explains, “the communion of words is the first act to establish links of fellowship.”

These phatic utterances constitute a mode of action just in their being voiced. In short, a phatic utterance communicates not ideas but attitude, the speaker's presence, and the speaker's intention of being sociable.

If we extend Malinowski's discussion of phatic speech to writing, we can see written phatic utterances as nearly content-free examples of the kind of processing I championed in earlier chapters—a way of reminding readers they are in contact with a mind, a person, a personality rather than with some mindlessly objective recording or reporting of data. If classical rhetoric discusses tropes that serve this exact function, I'm not aware of it, but it strikes me as a significant rhetorical and/or stylistic phenomenon that certainly deserves our attention. I've been trying to list examples of this phatic phenomenon, and my list just keeps growing. Here are some of the phrases I've identified.

as it happens

it turns out

in point of fact

when all is said and done

my Lord

for God's sake

for that matter

in the final analysis

and whatnot

believe it or not

if you know what I mean

of course

for some reason

just between us

just between you and me

you know

to no one's surprise

as I believe is the case

it occurs to me

I suppose

to my dismay

to my relief

to my way of thinking

it is important to note

it is important to remember

to everyone's surprise

I might add

I am reminded

we should remember

and I agree that it is

and I believe that it is

in my mind

we need to consider

after all

in spite of everything

it seems to me

I can't help but wonder

let's face it

if truth be known

if you must know

if conditions are favorable

if time permits

after a fashion

it goes without saying

almost inevitably

fittingly enough

curiously enough

amazingly enough

that is to say

I suppose

as unlikely as it may seem

one might ask

as we can see

as I've pointed out

in a way

in a sense

not to mention

to some extent

to a certain extent

as is widely known

as everybody knows

you know what

let me tell you

make no mistake

I believe that in much the same way that phatic utterances function in oral discourse, phatic words and phrases in written discourse serve to strengthen the connection between writer and reader. While these phatic phrases can function differently in different contexts, they all seem to imply a closer relationship between writer and reader than would be the case were they not there.

Most obviously, what we might call phatic connectors promote a confidential tone that suggests the writer is letting the reader in on information that is private or privileged or that the writer is trying to affect an ingratiating honesty.

to be honest

just between us

if you must know

if I may call it that

to my way of thinking

shall we say

let's face it

if truth be known

if you get right down to it

I can't help but wonder

it seems to me

Phatic phrases can both raise and lower the dramatic emphasis of a sentence's propositional content, interrupting the flow of the sentence either to highlight what follows the intensifying phrase or to tone down or qualify following information. Intensifiers would be interjections such as “my Lord,” “for God's sake,” “for goodness' sake,” “amazingly enough,” and that perennial favorite: “of course.” Qualifiers would include phrases such as “for that matter,” “for some reason,” “I suppose,” “after all,” “after a fashion,” “in a way,” “in a sense,” and “to some extent.”

Phatic phrases can be used as sentence openers—“as it happens,” “it turns out,” “it occurs to me,” “at any rate”—or these phrases can be used later in the sentence as interrupters. Phatic phrases can be used to signpost important information or claims—“in point of fact,” “in fact,” “it is important to note”—and they can be used to clinch a conclusion—“in the final analysis,” “when all is said and done.” They can be used to certify content or to undermine or decertify it. Certifying phrases might include “and I agree that it is,” “to no one's surprise,” “it goes without saying,” and “as everybody knows.” Undermining phrases might include “believe it or not,” “to everyone's surprise,” “curiously enough,” “one might ask,” and “as unlikely as it may seem.”

These and countless similar examples of what I'm calling mini-scripting function in much the same way as the ever-more-ubiquitous emoticons do on the Web and in text messaging. While these phatic phrases may not really carry any content, they help signal to the reader both the writer's individuality and the writer's attitude toward the information delivered by the sentence. They also, inevitably, slow the sentence down, increasing at least to some extent its degree of suspensiveness.

Next Steps

I've listed a few of the phatic “speed bumps,” prefab phrases we drop into our sentences for a variety of different reasons, but always to the effect of drawing out the sentence just a bit. Think about your own writing and speech and inventory the phrases you fall back on or those you recognize in the speech and writing of others. Try to figure out the reasons why you or others employ these phatic speed bumps—whether for delay, for intensification, for establishing reason or authority, for forging a closer relationship with your audience, or for another purpose. List them, and if you come up with examples I haven't thought of (there must be scads!) please tell me about them.