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Eats, Shoots & Leaves
by Lynne Truss

Eats, Shoots & Leaves
by Lynne Truss

I’ll admit it: I’m baffled by this book.

In the past, whenever I wanted to consult an oracle on matters of punctuation, I would grab my copy of Strunk & White’s venerable The Elements of Style. But I’m willing to modernize when the occasion seems suitable, and my writing has had recurring issues with certain matters grammatical and syntactical; consulting a new oracle seemed like a good idea.

Enter Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss. This book was an unexpected bestseller when it hit the shelves some ten years ago, and it seems to have received rave reviews from anyone who had cause to care. Thus, I opened this small volume expecting both help with my writing and an entertaining discourse on all things punctuation.

As it turned out, I didn’t really get either one.

Regarding the punctuation: I consulted this book specifically for a definitive judgment about my personal punctuation hobgoblin, the “Oxford” comma. (It’s the comma that cradles the penultimate item on a list, just before the ‘and’ that marks the last item in the sequence. For example: red, white, and blue; versus today’s kinda/sorta standard usage: red, white and blue.) This comma question always puzzles me, so I figured, let’s see what the current standard bearer for correct punctuation has to say about it. Surely a book boasting a “zero tolerance approach to punctuation” would be able to provide the kind of ironclad guidance I needed. Right?

Well, no. Truss, the self-described “stickler” who authored this work, grabs the Oxford comma with both hands...and then punts. Her stance on the Oxford comma:

My own feeling is that one shouldn’t be too rigid about the Oxford comma. Sometimes the sentence is improved by including it; sometimes it isn’t.

Oh, of course. And sometimes my asshole needs wiping; sometimes it doesn’t.

What the hell? That waffling statement sure doesn’t seem like a “zero tolerance” approach to punctuation. Truss’s indecision left my writing in exactly the same place where it started--not exactly the sort of help I was seeking.

To be fair, Truss provides examples that underscore the uncertainty that lies beneath her Hamlet-like vacillation about the Oxford comma. The reader can see some sense in the author’s equivocation on this admittedly esoteric point of contention. But when readers pick up a book about punctuation, they expect to find firm rules to follow, rules that provide the intellectual framework that will improve their writing. As in all things in life, uncertainty doesn’t help.

Nevertheless, I’m willing to strike another blow for fairness and note that, on most matters of punctuation, Truss hews much closer to her stated goal of “zero tolerance.” Much of Truss’s instruction comes in clear, concise, definitive directions on usage that, if the reader can absorb it all, will undoubtedly improve his writing, especially for those writers who have weak spots that need buttressing. The Oxford comma stumble is somewhat anomalous, though for someone like myself it’s a most inconvenient anomaly.

As for the entertaining discourse...well, that leaves much to be desired, too. Truss writes in a tone that may be shooting for light, breezy, and conversational, but that actually comes across as pedantic, supercilious, and perhaps a little bit crazy. (Note: two Oxford commas in that last sentence; I think they work in that context...but can I really be sure?) The author’s almost celebratory account of her nitpicking life does less to convince you that Truss knows her grammar and more to make the case that she can be a real pain in the ass. Reading her manifesto of moral outrage over bad punctuation makes it seem like you’d have a better time staying at home with your sciatica than spending a night on the town with Truss--especially if she brings along her markers, paper cutouts, and various other implements of grammar guerrilla warfare. (Given her account, Truss seems destined to get arrested for defacing private property with her on-the-go editing, and if you’re hanging around with her you’ll probably get hauled in, too.) The worst of this pomposity pervades the Introduction; Truss has enough sense to play things closer to the vest in the heart of the book. Thus, a word to the wise: skipping the Introduction entirely may make Eats, Shoots & Leaves a better, more useful read from the start.

So Eats, Shoots & Leaves is a classic “mixed bag” of a book. You can get something out of it, if you want to (or need to) improve your writing, and if you can stand an author who is quintessentially too geeky for her own good. Just skip that Introduction and try to absorb the main body of the text directly. Or better yet: get a secondhand copy of the book and keep it on the shelf near your desk as a reference, checking on the rules of usage on an as-needed basis. (The book lacks an index--another point of demerit--but it’s short enough that you can find what you need quickly by checking the table of contents and browsing a few pages.) Any book that achieved bestseller status ten years ago should be readily available at a used book sale for a dollar or two at most.

Whatever you may think about the tone of this book, or using the Oxford comma, or crazy grammar people in general, this can be said for certain about Eats, Shoots & Leaves: Truss is right that too many people don’t know good grammar--and thus, any grammar guide, if used, is better than none at all.