More forceful: No unnecessary words. (Clint Eastward, from Sudden Impact) |
FORCE AS AFFECTED BY NUMBER OF WORDS
Too Many Words
As has already been intimated, every word that does not help a reader to get at the meaning of a sentence hinders him by wasting his time and his strength.
Wordiness is, then, indirectly an offense against clearness; but it is a still more serious offense against force: it weakens even more than it obscures. A diffuse style inevitably lacks force.
A: Eppie had no desire for show.
B: Eppie had no desire for show or ostentation.
A: The house quickly filled with a jolly crowd.
B: The house quickly filled with a jolly and happy crowd.
A: She was the child whom old Silas Marner had brought up.
B: She was the child which old Silas Marner had reared and brought up.
The B sentences exemplify one of the most common forms of redundancy as it appears in school compositions,— that, namely, which consists in coupling a word which in itself says all that is meant with another word of the same, or of similar, meaning.
A: On the other hand, we must admit his sanity.
B: But, on the other hand, we must admit his sanity.
A: He was a bright, sober, manly little fellow, and a favorite with us all.
B: He was a bright, sober, manly little fellow and a universal favorite with us all.
A: We enjoy the story until we come to the sad end.
B: We enjoy the story until we come to the sad denouement in the end.
A: To permit two words to retain the same meaning is a waste.
B: To permit two words to retain precisely the same signification is a waste that cannot be afforded.
A: Meantime, the cars arrived at the hotel.
B: In the meantime the cars arrived at the hotel.
A: It is only a short step from a sincere man to a boor.
B: There is only the shortest sort of a step between a sincere man and a boor.
A: Darcy's long silence on that subject came, no doubt, from his pride.
B: There can be no doubt that the reason for Darcy's long silence upon that subject came from his own pride.
A: Austen begins the book by showing that Catherine, unlike the pattern heroine, is not enchantingly beautiful, or captivating, or insipidly sentimental.
B: Austen commences the book by showing how unlike the pattern heroine Catherine is,— that she is not so enchantingly beautiful, or captivating, nor insipidly sentimental, nor has she any of the characteristics of the ordinary heroine.
A glance at these examples will show what various forms redundancy takes (B), and how much is gained in force, as well as in space, by the excision of useless words (A).
Of all the faults of weak writers, none is more common or more serious than the fault of redundancy; of all the merits of strong writers, none is more conspicuous than the merit of making every word tell.