semicolon

I see you there, winking at me, you coy minx. 😉 To life’s most profound questions, I add

Why do you exist, semicolon?

You just wink and keep on existing.

Some editors can’t stand them. Victorians adored them. Certain authors, even today, overindulge them. And many, many writers don’t know how or when to use them.

That leads me to my topic today:

The dreadful comma splice.

It’s one of my literary pet peeves. True, commas are more of an art than a science. In my experience with copy editors, half of their job seems to consist of removing the commas I put in, and occasionally adding the commas I left out. I’ve learned to do a lot of the removing for myself when I do my own copy editing. (For instance, should the comma between “in” and “and” in the sentence above be in or out? In, or out? You decide!)

I converted rather late in life to the Oxford comma, which deserves its own separate post. But I feel no ambiguity, absolutely none, about comma splices. Seeing one has the effect on me of chalk-squealing or knuckle-cracking. What is a comma splice? I’ll explain.

a) This is a sentence. b) That is another sentence.

No debate there. Each of the above sentences has a subject (the demonstrative pronouns This and That) and a linking verb (is). Also, each expresses a complete thought, mundane as it is.

Suppose, for some occult reason, we wish to join these two sentences. One simple way is by using a coordinating conjunction:

This is a sentence and that is another sentence.

Oooo-kay. Seems obvious. To raise the stakes a little we could introduce a contrast:

This is a sentence, but that is another sentence.

Interesting point. But the grammatical point is that a) and b) are complete sentences, with equal standing under the laws of grammar. They may be joined only by coordinating clauses such as and, but,  and or.

Unless . . .

One uses a semicolon to join them.

This is a sentence; that is another sentence.

To the editor who despises the semicolon, I say, “Come on! This is its only job! Let the kid do its job!”* In this example, I like the semicolon form better than coordinating conjunction form, but maybe that’s just me.

One thing you must never, ever do is give that job to a comma:

This is a sentence, that is another sentence.

It doesn’t even make sense. Or rather, it makes even less sense.

What does any of this have to do with hedgehogs? I came across this link recently: “Our Top 13 Delightful Hedgehog Facts,” from the UK National Trust. Being a sucker for hedgehog facts, of course I clicked it. The facts are delightful, but the comma splices almost ruined it for me. Go ahead; see how many you can find. (And this from the Brits, who should know better!)

In conclusion, I admit that I’m one of those authors who overindulges the semicolon; it’s a habit I’m trying to tame. But surely there’s a time and a place for them; it just takes practice (and copyediting) to determine when and where. Just don’t try to sneak a comma in where a semicolon rightly belongs; there’s no excuse for it.

*The other use for semicolons is separating items in a list where commas have to be used, as in: “Mr. Pringle purchased pencils, paper, and paperclips; pansies, periwinkles, and petunias; and a puppy.”