The wonders of punctuation

Words are a bit like small children. Without the corralling effects of commas, full stops, question marks, colons and semi-colons, they are apt to run off in any direction.

Bernard Salt. Picture: Nick Cubbin

I was in my mid-20s when I was introduced to the wonders, the elegance, the logic of perfect punctuation. It was at university, where my Masters supervisor took me through every sentence of my draft thesis and patiently explained the reasons for his corrections, including the purpose of each punctuation point. It was a revelation; my punctuational awakening. From that moment I could see what I had not seen previously: that words can be corralled, paused, amplified, made to do whatever the writer wants them to do, merely by choosing the correct punctuation. But in order to do that you need to learn what punctuation tools are available and how and when they should be used.

Words are a bit like small children. Without the corralling effects of commas, full stops, question marks, colons and semi-colons, they are apt to run off in any direction, leaving a trail of mayhem in their wake. It’s not that words and children shouldn’t run free; it’s more that both require gentle reminders, a kindly shepherding, to ensure that their exuberance is safely contained and pointed in the right direction.

I am, for example, quite partial to the use of the em dash, which I occasionally – and quite boldly, if I may say – insert into a sentence in order to give it a lift, a touch of exotica. This extra-long dash suggests a writer leaning forward for a quiet word, for a bit of a tête-à-tête, before returning to the main thrust of the sentence. A close cousin of the em dash is the shorter en dash (distinct from the hyphen), which is used to separate a list of numbers, especially dates, as in 2022-23.

I am also a fan of the ellipsis, that little-understood, much-mangled three-dot trail tacked onto the end of a sentence that leads the reader to an unspecified destination… There’s an air of mystery, of whimsy, about any sentence that ends with an ellipsis. And please note: it consists of three dots, not more.

Commas are perhaps the most common member of the punctuation species for they perform their pauseful purpose in most sentences. Some people – not me but others, many others, apparently – insist upon copious commas, which I think suggests a writer who does not trust their readers’ ability to navigate a sentence. And then there is the colon, which means there’s a list coming; it should never be confused with the semi-colon, which separates clauses.

My interest in punctuation to control the written form extends to so-called diacritics, which change the way a letter is pronounced. We do not use these in English but they abound in other languages. I especially like the French circumflex (little hat) and cedilla (tail) and the German umlaut (double dots) which change a letter’s phonetics. How did these symbols evolve? And why haven’t we incorporated such symbols into English?

Our everyday language is continually evolving, especially since the advent of social media and text messaging. And so it should. The way we form relationships, how we work, the technology we use all require the creation of new words. But even though our language may change, there is still a requirement for punctuation. Commas and semi-colons may well be misused. The ellipsis may have morphed into a catch-all method of separating thoughts… but there is still a need for symbols to choreograph the writer’s intent. Perhaps the recently evolved emoji should be formally admitted to the pantheon of punctuation points?

In an odd way the requirement for punctuation is a metaphor for modern life. In a world of constant change, it is reassuring to know that some principles are inviolable.