The
Promiscuous Apostrophe
by Val Dumond
© 2005
Who would
think that a little dot with a tail could cause so much trouble in the
writing world? Yet, the thing we call an apostrophe does just that.
Check your newspaper, street signs, readerboards - anything that contains
words, usually offering things for sale. You know what I mean - those
apostrophes stuck in the wrong place, as in: TODAY ONLY, TOY'S ON SALE!
(One would think the inventory was very very small.)
We called
them "grocer's apostrophes" for a while, named after those hand-written
signs that appear alongside a country road offering:
- apple's
for sale
- pick
your own blueberry's
- Xmas
tree's here
Seems
that the growers-turned-grocers couldn't grasp the hang of possessive
apostrophes.
If you
think they're the only ones confused about the dot with the tail, take
another look at your emails, Internet offerings, computerized roadside
signs, but most especially your club newsletter.
Some call
it the "promiscuous apostrophe." That explains the use (or mis-use)
of an apostrophe in group possessives. Is it a writer's group? or a
writers' group? a farmer's market or a farmers' market? a reader's society
or a readers' society?
To further
confuse the issue, along come the sit-on-the-fence linguists who refuse
to take sides. They have come to the conclusion (or lack of conclusion)
that the dot with a tail can be omitted, left out, ignored, abandoned,
cast aside, rejected, discarded, forsaken!
Any linguist
worth a comment understands that promiscuous means "confused, jumbled."
It also can mean "nonselective," which is where these sit-on-the-fencers
are at this moment. Even though they may understand that to make no
choice is to choose!
A panel
of writers once organized a discussion about whether or not to insert
an apostrophe in their organization's name. "Apostrophe-s or s-apostrophe,"
that was the question. You can imagine how intense and lively was that
session - six noted authors speaking vehemently on behalf of their version
of right and wrong apostrophe use.
"Use the
apostrophe-s," claimed Joe. "This organization belongs to the individual
writer. We work to present programs for the lone novelist or journalist
sitting in a garret penning great works of literature."
"The
problem with that, Joe, is that we now have to deal with the pronoun.
Do we talk about the writer in "his garret" or "her garret"?" asked
Harriet, the feminist.
"Well,"
continued Joe, "we simply use the word for writer, as I did: author,
journalist, novelist, scribe, author..."
"Wait
a minute," chimed in Joe. "There's a difference between a writer and
an author. We all realize that most of us are writers, but only a few
of us are authors - published writers."
"You're
cutting things a bit close there, aren't you, Joe?"
"Not necessarily,"
spoke up Nora. "Our organization is not just for 'authors,' but it's
for all writers. Now, let's get back to the problem of the apostrophe.
Before or after the s?"
"You're
right, Nora. "Let's stay on subject. We'll simplify it - put the apostrophe
after the s and make it inclusive, for everybody." That was Harriet.
"That
makes sense, and it includes everybody," agreed Tom.
"Yes,
but it's so impersonal," said Joe. "It makes us a group and takes away
the appeal we have for individual writers. I'd like to see this group
reach out to individuals... the writer, whether he or she is in a garret
or a hovel or a den." He grinned at Harriet as he emphasized the dual
pronouns.
"Nice,"
whispered Harriet. "Nice!"
"I still
like the plural s-apostrophe," said Nora, doodling with her pen. "It
looks nice, official, important."
Joe bristled
before he added, "And so impersonal, so officious, maybe too important."
He paused a moment before adding, "Nice? I can't believe you women both
used that word - nice!"
"Well
it is nice, very nice." Nora stood her ground.
Harriet
shrugged her shoulders. "I was being sarcastic."
Nora
stood up and silenced the group with one hand. "All in favor of the
apostrophe-s, raise... "
"Wait
a minute, shouted Andrew, who had been silent until now. "Wait just
a darned minute. You are overlooking a third way, maybe a way to avoid
all this bickering."
"What?"
They looked at Andrew, who indeed had remained silent until now.
"Why not...
" Andrew took a deep breath, " ...why not do away with the apostrophe
altogether?"
A hush
fell on the room. An occasional gasp was heard, then a sigh or two.
Finally, two hands clapped slowly. A few more joined the applause until
the entire room erupted in loud clapping of hands. Some even rose from
their chairs, seemingly delighted the session was over.
"Hold
it! Hold it!" shouted Tom, trying to restore order. "Hold it!" As the
room quieted down, he turned to the panel, his face turning redder as
he spoke, his voice spitting out the words in a rasping gutteral tone.
He could barely mouth the words: "do... away... abolish... eliminate...
omit... the... apostrophe? That would make it no one's organization.
We would lose not only the personal tone, but we would lose the... the
group-i-ness of it," he concluded lamely as he sat down, spent.
Joe took
over. "Yeah, I see what he means, but I have to like it. No apostrophe
would make it an adjective, a plain old adjective, that doesn't require
an apostrophe. The organization would be a group for writers, a writers
group."
"Yeah,
like a ripe banana, a banana that is ripe... a group that is writers."
That was Nora. "Or should that be are writers? Now I'm more confused."
She buried her head in her arms.
Andrew
tried again. "I didn't mean to start a war - I just suggested that we
leave the apostrophe placement to the reader. You all know that we don't
read words exactly as they are written. We tend to see what we want
to see. If we put in an apostrophe before the s and that bothers the
groupies, they'll bail. If we put the apostrophe at the end, that will
turn off the Joes of this world. So, why not leave it out entirely and
let the reader insert one where they think it belongs?"
Another
hush filled the room with whispers of deep breathing, although it was
apparent that many were holding their breaths. The audience watched
the panel members, and waited. The panelists fiddled with their pens,
twitched nervously and shifted in their seats. Yet, no one spoke.
Sitting
next to Andrew was Germaine, who had also remained quiet throughout
the discussion. She had watched each panel member take a stance and
defend it, and she had watched the reaction to Andrew's alternative
suggestion. She stood up slowly and carefully, making sure that no one
else was planning to speak. She cleared her throat, braced her shoulders
and began - very slowly.
"Excuse
me, people," she spoke quietly. "We seem to have hit a wall here. May
I offer one more suggestion?" She paused only a moment before continuing.
"May I suggest that we re-name the organization as "A Group For Every
Writer."
Now the
room was really hushed, still, quiet, soundless, motionless. No one
stirred - or breathed.
"Well
now... " Joe finally spoke up. "Well now, shouldn't that be 'each' writer?"
"No,"
shot back Tom. "It should be 'all' writers... "
And that
was when the audience rose as one and left the room. I'm not sure, but
I do believe that panel of writers/authors remains in that conference
room still trying to come up with a suitable name for their group. They
are, after all, writers who like each word to matter.
And isn't
that how promiscuity always ends up? Adding more confusion to a situation
than was there in the first place?
Ah, the
promiscuous apostrophe!
Val Dumond
writes and edits in her garret in Tacoma, Washington. It is there she
writes books about language and Northwest history, plays and novels.
Her language books include Grammar
For Grownups (HarperCollins), Elements of Nonsexist Usage
(Prentice Hall) and the newly released Just
Words - The Us and Them Thing, all about inclusive language.
She belongs to the Pacific Northwest Writers Association (no apostrophe).
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