Jul
18
Further Crimes Against the Humanities
A few months ago, I wrote a short post called “Crimes Against the Humanities” that included a list of appalling assaults on good writing committed in a recently published bestseller.
Last week, I finished editing another title in which the English language, common sense, and storytelling itself all took a brutal pummeling. There are two passages in particular I can’t help but share here.
This first one might sneak past some readers:
The smell of regular, plain old normal coffee filled my senses and did what it alone could do to ground me in reality. Told me the world was still moving forward, regular people were working regular jobs, coffee was being brewed, all was well someone out there.
Rather than criticize the nattering inanity of “regular, plain old normal coffee”… the unintentional pun of “ground”… the trite and meaningless jibber jabber about how coffee makes the narrator feel about the world moving forward and regular normal average plain old people working average regular plain old quotidian commonplace jobs… the redundant observation that the smell of coffee tells her that coffee is being brewed… or the inscrutable concluding final climactic finale, “all was well someone out there,” I’ve decided instead to celebrate this little gem of atrocious writing by Auto-Tuning it (click the link to listen):
The same author takes a hearty dump on lucidity and English syntax in this next example:
Zay, having finished his sudden need to be social, with no more than a “How’s the tequila?” to Terric, and likely had also satisfied his curiosity of what was going on between Terric and Grant, strode over to the poker table.
Granted, it’s difficult to translate a passage like this from the German. But by the time I got to the end of this sentence, I’d forgotten that the blathering middle part was parenthetical. Coming at last to the main verb of the independent clause was a bit of a surprise—like bumping into an old acquaintance at a party, just after he’s thrown up all over himself. This sentence is so terrible and meaningless that it even sounds lousy after being Auto-Tuned (click below to listen anyway):
I could go on with further examples from this book, but unlike its author, I know when to stop writing.
Have you spotted any “Crimes Against the Humanities” lately? Post them in a comment.
