Parsimony of Language

As my friends (and probably my readers) can tell you, I’m no enemy to baroque language. I do love me some rich descriptions! But that’s not the same as wasting words, throwing them away on redundancies. While not everybody needs to write like Ernest Hemingway, a certain frugality with those precious little words keeps the writing clean and comprehensible. Let’s consider a few examples.

Stating the Obvious

Take the adverb aloud. It’s useful to indicate that something is not silent. But frequently, the verb itself will make that clear without any further modifier. Said, barked, cried, asked, shouted—these actions are all audible by their nature. Why double down on that in a phrase like “He cried aloud”?

I understand the temptation in a case such as the following:

• I can’t stand this any more. “When are you going to stop?” she asked aloud.

Here, there is a contrast between a silent comment and one made openly to others. But consider whether this adverbless version doesn’t convey exactly the same thing:

• I can’t stand this any more. “When are you going to stop?” she asked.

Since asking is an action with sound (unless you ask yourself, and then it’s ambiguous), no need to specify that it’s aloud—especially when punctuation and italics make crystalline the difference between what is thought and what is spoken.

No Un-brief Glance

A similar situation arises with vague little phrases like for a moment or briefly or any of their kin. Sometimes they add genuine information (“The propellors stopped turning for a moment”). But sometimes the verb itself expresses momentaneity:

• She glanced at him for a moment.

To glance is by definition a momentary action—the eyes flicker to their target and quickly dash away. And dash and flicker are two more verbs that may not want such modifiers, because they, too, are, er, quick. (Mea culpa! See how easy it is to slip?)

I Heard You, Already

Another way to waste words is to restate differently the same thought you’ve just expressed. We usually do this to explain or summarize, but consider whether it’s necessary:

• John was dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open and his eyes round. “Holy mackerel!”

What really creates the mental picture is the description of John gawping. When we see such an expression on a fellow human, we know they’re dumbfounded, so by cutting the sentence in half, we already get the entire message:

• John’s mouth hung open and his eyes grew round. “Holy mackerel!”

Generally, it’s wise to trust your readers’ intelligence. They can catch these things on the first bounce.

Let’s use that same sentence to examine another form of redundancy. What if it read this way?

• John’s mouth hung open and his eyes grew round. “Holy mackerel!” he cried.

Do we really need that tag at the end? The fact that a description of John immediately precedes the words suggests that it’s the same person speaking as the one whose eyes grew round. Again, punctuation and paragraphing aid us.

Notice that none of these “uncorrected” forms are exactly incorrect. There may actually be times when it sounds better to use a wordier expression. Such decisions are part of your personal style, and no one style is “right.” But generally speaking, words are so precious they shouldn’t be wasted.