A new term learned today from Mary Norris' "Confessions of a Comma Queen" in the February 23, 2015 issue of The New Yorker:
The New Yorker practices a "close" style of punctuation. Or, as E. B. White once put it, "Commas in The New Yorker fall with the precision of knives in a circus act, outlining the victim." (Norris, 2015, para. 32)Commas separate or mark off sentence parts with precision and tact and art.
II
Precision isn't something we experience with Tennessee weather.
In the transitions from season to season, the parts -- temperature, humidity, precipitation, sun -- jumble together like words in a rambling sentence, which defies logic or clarity.
To wit: a high of 66 today and a predicted low of 26. Fog, rain, ice pellets. Sunshine on Friday with a high of 38 and low of 22. Then back up to 52 on Sunday.
III
In language, I like a close style, but in seasonal shifts I prefer messiness and unpredictability, so much closer to life as it is lived rather than life as it is made in words.
IV
Besides, the crocus don't mind, so why should I?
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