Dreyer's English

Dreyer's English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style

Benjamin Dreyer (Random House, 2019)

     One day I'm going to write a review consisting solely of large chunks from the book, because the writing is just so damned sprightly. I don't think this is that day, but it wouldn't be a bad one to choose. Benjamin Dreyer, in his capacity as the Copy Chief at Random House, has made the world a better place by cleaning up the prose of innumerable writers. He knows a good sentence from a bad one, and he has written a beautiful, witty book about how to tell the difference. 
 

    "A good sentence, I find myself saying frequently, is one that the reader can follow from beginning to end, no matter how long it is, without having to double back in confusion because the writer misused or omitted a key piece of punctuation, chose a vague or misleading pronoun, or in some other way engaged in inadvertent misdirection."

    The book is mostly a catalog of misdirections Dreyer has known. He hastens to say that it's not actually comprehensive; you still need The Chicago Manual of Style "whose edicts I don't always agree with but whose definitive bossiness is, in its way, comforting," and Merriam-Webster's Dictionary of English Usage, in addition to a few good dictionaries. 
 

    But what a catalog! Under "Notes on Proper Nouns", under "Colombia", this: "South American country. Two o's. Columbia, with a u, is, among other things, a New York university, a recording company, a Hollywood movie studio, the District also known as Washington, the Gem of the Ocean, and the female representation of the United States." 'Among other things?' Seriously? Nice. 
 

    You will find at least a few things you didn't know in that chapter, as you might in "Notes on Easily Misspelled Words" and "The Confusables." Some of you, though, spoiling for an argument, will turn directly to "Peeves and Crotchets." "The thing is, everyone's peeves and crotchets are different. People who couldn't care less about 'could care less' will, faced with the use of 'impact' as a verb, geschrei the house down, and that mob that sees fifty shades of red, scarlet, and carmine over the relatively newfangled use of 'begs the question' to mean 'raises the question' may well pass by a 'comprised of' without so much as batting an eye." 
 

    Some entries ("Based off of") get "No. Just no." Some get "I don't think that's asking a lot." Others get "Move on already," or, at greater length: "As to people who object to supermarket express-lane signs reading '10 items or less'? On the one hand, I hear you. On the other hand, get a hobby. Maybe flower arranging, or decoupage." Good writers avoid some expressions because they're wrong, and others because people will come running to tell them that they're wrong. 
 

    That same mob of peevers and pedants are the indirect subject of the chapter on "Rules and Nonrules," such as 'Never End a Sentence with a Preposition,' and 'Contractions Aren't Allowed in Formal Writing.' "Why are they nonrules? So far as I'm concerned, because they're largely unhelpful, pointlessly constricting, feckless, and useless. Also because they're generally of dubious origin: devised out of thin air, then passed on till they've gained respectable solidarity and, ultimately, have ossified." All good reasons. 
 

    No matter how many books on usage you already have, you want this one. It's funny; it's timely; it's authoritative, but in a way that keeps the conversation going. Dreyer again, by way of conclusion: "There's no rule without an exception (well, mostly), there's no thought without an afterthought (at least for me), there's always something you meant to say but forgot to say. There's no last word, only the next word." And thank Goodness for it. 

Published by email,

Any Good Books, April 2019

Counting Backwards

Counting Backwards: A Doctor's Notes on Anesthesia

Henry Jay Przybylo, M.D. (W.W. Norton, 2018)

     Anesthesia is a mystery, even to its practitioners. Dr. Przybylo (who goes by Dr. Jay around the hospital) has administered anesthesia over thirty thousand times over his career, and he doesn't exactly know how the gas he uses does what it does. "Despite decades of research, its mechanism of action remains a mystery. I must have faith in my anesthesia gas." He has faith, as well, in his experience; and in his preparation, which is invariably meticulous. A mistake he made in his first year of practice, when he picked up the wrong syringe, led him to work out a standard approach to setting up his operating area. "The basic needs must be within an arm's reach and not concealed in clutter. The anticipated is one step away; the potential, another step beyond."

     From this cockpit, Dr. Jay manages the drugs, both gaseous and intravenous, that render the patient insensible and pain free, to make surgery possible. He has drugs to dispel anxiety, prevent the formation of memory, stop pain, and prevent movement. At the same time, he has to keep tabs on the vital signs of the patient: he doesn't want to suppress the heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing of the patient too much. Depending on what the surgeon is doing, the body may respond with lulls or surges, and the maintenance of stability may require anticipation–verging on art–from the anesthesiologist.

     Because Dr. Jay specializes in the care of children, he has need of a few other arts. While an adult may understand that she needs a shot to begin the process of anesthesia, a child will probably see that as unacceptable. "Since every step taken toward a procedure room increases the anxiety of my patient, my goal is to shorten or disguise the time from that first step until my anesthesia coma is induced. Distraction is a major tool, and maintaining an ability to distract keeps me young, or at least requires that I stay current and informed."

     Indeed, he seems to be a lifelong learner on many fronts. He studies what the other people in the operating theater are doing, learning the rhythms and habits of the surgeons he works with. He understands cardiology, cancer, and diseases of the lungs. He has learned more and more about preventing post-operative pain, and has improved the way he speaks to people he isn't sure can understand him.

    Dr. Jay has a deft touch with the history of his field, from recreational ether to sonar-assisted lidocaine shots. He's also very good with simple explanations of how things work, and what kinds of things can go wrong. But what really makes me recommend Counting Backwards are the lessons that all of us could use. Setting up his space the same way every time, for example, is critically important to working as efficiently as possible; at the same time, it's an exercise in mindfulness, a way of preparing himself from the inside out.

   Thus prepared, he makes the machinery an extension of himself, and, seemingly, vice versa. But he doesn't fall into the machinery completely. No matter how long the procedure goes on, he prefers to stand up and watch over the drapes, rather than sitting down. "Far too often, when the readings waver, all eyes home in on the monitor screen. I've resorted to placing a towel over the screen to stop residents from watching it instead of the patient." As long as the patient is a human being, the doctors have to be, too.

Any Good Books published by email,

March 1, 2019