Tag: the art of editing

Here’s a perplexing sentence which recently caught my eye. It appeared on the front page of a local newspaper that shall remain nameless.

“As the current head chef of Melbourne’s fine dining, the European Restaurant, the 28 year-old’s growing talent and potential has been recognised this week in The Age 2015 Good Food Guide, earning the Young Chef of the Year.”

Say what?

While a certain sense can grudgingly be gleaned here, the meaning is unclear and the expression inelegant. It’s precisely the kind of grammatical jumble I yearn to unscramble. Let me show you how I’d do it.

We’ll begin with the modifier. This is the bit which appears at the start of the sentence (“As the current head chef of Melbourne’s fine dining”) and which modifies or provides more detail about what is to follow. In this case, it is dangling.

What has gone wrong here is that the words following the modifier (“the European Restaurant”) do not refer to the thing being modified. Simply put, the European Restaurant is not the current head chef of anything. Nor, despite any heartfelt hopes it may harbour, is it ever likely to be.

Awkwardly dangling modifiers like this can provide hours of blameless entertainment for linguistically-minded types. Yet they are also the source of genuine confusion and are best avoided by writers who want to have their words taken seriously.

It is reasonably easy to un-dangle a modifier. All you need to do is ensure that the subject of the modifier (the person, object or concept being described) is placed immediately adjacent to the modifier itself.

One way to do this in the current example is to nudge the words “the European Restaurant” to elsewhere in the sentence. Another option is to contain that phrase within a stronger form of punctuation – such as a set of dashes or brackets. However, either of these possibilities would make “the 28 year-old’s growing talent and potential” the subject of the modifier.

And that leads us to the next problem.

The “current head chef” in this sentence – who is also the subject being modified – is the 28 year old himself, not his “growing talent or potential”. This means that the words appearing adjacent to the modifier need to be “the 28 year old” and nothing else.

Other issues requiring editorial attention are whether or not the hyphen is necessary in “year-old” (it isn’t), if the words “Good Food Guide” should be in italics (they should because it is a title), and what to do with the phrase “earning the Young Chef of the Year” which sounds like it is incomplete (because it is).

A number of adjustments are thus required to disambiguate this sentence, and while it is certainly possible first to untangle and then to wrangle some meaning from it, a more efficient solution is to just begin anew.

Here’s what I would do:

“As current head chef of the European Restaurant in Melbourne, the 28 year old this week earned the Young Chef of the Year award in The Age Good Food Guide 2015.”

If a sprinkle of extra spice were required, one might try:

“As current head chef of the esteemed European Restaurant in Melbourne, the talented 28 year old this week earned The Age Good Food Guide’s 2015 Young Chef of the Year award.”

See what I mean?

Have you ever been muddled or misconstrued by a deceptively dangling modifier? Care to share any entertaining examples you’ve encountered?

This is the first in an occasional series of posts focusing on disambiguation, which is an essential element in effective writing and copyediting. And before we go any further, let me assure you that “disambiguate” is a real word with a proper definition and everything. The one above comes from our friend the Macquarie Dictionary.

Disambiguation alludes to the editor’s art of untangling the multiple possible meanings in a sentence and proposing alternative versions that express the writer’s intention simply and unequivocally.

A recent ambiguous sentence I encountered asserted that:

“The media should tell the public they got it wrong.”

But who exactly got it wrong? The media or the public? The sentence could be read either way.
If the intended meaning is that the media should tell the public when the media has got it wrong, a more precise phrasing could be: “The media got it wrong and they should tell the public this.”

Or perhaps: “When the media gets it wrong, they should inform the public.”

Or even: “The media should tell the public when incorrect information has been given.”

If in contrast it is the public who has got it wrong, the revised sentence could be: “The media should inform the public when the public gets it wrong.”

Or alternatively: “When the public gets it wrong, they should be informed by the media.”

However, this latter version contains its own ambiguity. Does it mean the public should be told (informed) by the media that the public is wrong? Or rather that the media should be the instrument for enlightening for the public by providing them with information (informing them) rather than simply admonishing them?

Meanwhile, I’ll keep trying to decide whether I’m a pessimist or a realist for using “when” instead of “if” in relation to the media (not to mention the public) getting it wrong.

Perhaps I’m secretly optimistic for believing that the media would ever tell the public of their error?

No, wait! Whose “error” is that?

Sentences with multiple meanings can be confusing but also amusing. (Have you heard the one about the dog that was too hairy to eat?) Which ambiguous sentences or phrases have you found? Share them in the comments below.