Читать онлайн «The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person's Guide to Writing in the 21st Century»

Автор Стивен Пинкер

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1: GOOD WRITING

Chapter 2: A WINDOW ONTO THE WORLD

Chapter 3: THE CURSE OF KNOWLEDGE

Chapter 4: THE WEB, THE TREE, AND THE STRING

Chapter 5: ARCS OF COHERENCE

Chapter 6: TELLING RIGHT FROM WRONG

Notes

Glossary

References

Acknowledgments

Follow Penguin

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Language Learnability and Language Development

Learnability and Cognition

The Language Instinct

How the Mind Works

Words and Rules

The Blank Slate

The Stuff of Thought

The Better Angels of Our Nature

Language, Cognition, and Human Nature: Selected Articles

EDITED BY STEVEN PINKER

Visual Cognition

Connections and Symbols (with Jacques Mehler)

Lexical and Conceptual Semantics (with Beth Levin)

The Best American Science and Nature Writing 2004

To Susan Pinker and Robert Pinker

who have a way with words

Prologue

I love style manuals. Ever since I was assigned Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style in an introductory psychology course, the writing guide has been among my favorite literary genres. It’s not just that I welcome advice on the lifelong challenge of perfecting the craft of writing. It’s also that credible guidance on writing must itself be well written, and the best of the manuals are paragons of their own advice. William Strunk’s course notes on writing, which his student E. B. White turned into their famous little book, was studded with gems of self-exemplification such as “Write with nouns and verbs,” “Put the emphatic words of a sentence at the end,” and best of all, his prime directive, “Omit needless words. ” Many eminent stylists have applied their gifts to explaining the art, including Kingsley Amis, Jacques Barzun, Ambrose Bierce, Bill Bryson, Robert Graves, Tracy Kidder, Stephen King, Elmore Leonard, F.

L. Lucas, George Orwell, William Safire, and of course White himself, the beloved author of Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little. Here is the great essayist reminiscing about his teacher:

In the days when I was sitting in his class, he omitted so many needless words, and omitted them so forcibly and with such eagerness and obvious relish, that he often seemed in the position of having shortchanged himself—a man left with nothing more to say yet with time to fill, a radio prophet who had outdistanced the clock. Will Strunk got out of this predicament by a simple trick: he uttered every sentence three times. When he delivered his oration on brevity to the class, he leaned forward over his desk, grasped his coat lapels in his hands, and, in a husky, conspiratorial voice, said, “Rule Seventeen. Omit needless words! Omit needless words! Omit needless words!”1