Mary Norris

In this unique blend of memoir and grammar guide, we get to follow along with Mary Norris, who worked as a copy editor at The New Yorker, as she waxes eloquent about style whether it be comma usage, hyphens, semicolons, the use of taboo language in print, or her preferences for a No. 1 pencil and a good pencil sharpener.

I enjoyed listening to Mary Norris read her own prose (and helpfully spelling out words or vocalizing the punctuation as needed), and her sense of fun when it comes to usage. show more Yes, there are rules. In fact, I was delighted and amused to find out that The New Yorker uses the second edition of Webster's dictionary first for spelling and usage, for example - I would have chosen Webster's Third myself, but that's the descriptionist in me coming out. She also has a good sense of humor about it all and isn't rigid about what's "right", occasionally including examples where authors break the usage rules but it works better their way. Sometimes grammar is personal, as she discovers when her sister transitioned and Mary had to relearn saying "she" when she most naturally went for "he." Most delightfully, her training means that she's intrigued when something is unexpected, and will go on a bit of research to figure out who put the hyphen in Moby-Dick the title when the whale is simply Moby Dick. I didn't always agree with her style preferences (I don't mind a singular "they"), nor did I always follow her more technical explanations, but I loved getting to see how the mind of a copy editor works and appreciated her eye for style and ear for language. show less

This book—part history of language, part grammarians’ bible, part punctilious punctuation-snob puncturer—by a veteran New Yorker copy editor attempts to explain why writers in English, particularly those whose work appears in The New Yorker, make the choices they do. Form, not content, is her subject. While that publication is notoriously picky about copy matters, Norris’s anecdote-rich text suggests how much elasticity actually exists within its seemingly constricting rules. show more
Particularly entertaining are the early sections that include a review of her checkered, pre-New Yorker work experience. (You can’t really call a stint as a milk-truck driver and costume shop clerk a career for a person who did graduate work in English.)
Norris took her title from the common grammar mistake people make in using “I” when “me” is required. I yell at the radio when I hear the awful “between you and I” or “He invited Tom and I . . .” I suspect Norris does too.Several chapters cover the ongoing punctuation wars. No surprise, as the subtitle of the book is Confessions of a Comma Queen. In the comma skirmish, I find I fight on the side of “playing by ear,” dropping in a comma where I sense a pause. And in hyphen disputes, her emphasis on clarity of meaning seems a useful approach. Thus the comma in milk-truck driver above.
Some of the text on verbs got away from me and her suggestion for how to tell whether a sentence needs “who” or “whom” (for the straggling soldiers in that lost battle), her system was overly complex or not explained clearly. I’ll stick with mine.
The very best chapter was devoted to Norris’s love of pencils. Extra-soft No.1 pencils, in fact. The kind of pencil that has also kindled a love of pencil sharpeners. (I’ve served time in innumerable meeting rooms over the years and can tell you that The Ford Foundation’s black pencils, embossed with its name, and the round ones of the L’Enfant Plaza Hotel in Washington, D.C., which come in easter egg pastels, are the best. Whenever I attended meetings there, I stocked up.)
Reading anyone’s description of something they are both passionate and deeply knowledgeable about—making wine, say, or 1950s automobiles—is always interesting, and you learn as much about the person as about their particular interest. I don’t ever have to read about pencils again, but I’m glad I did. show less

A fun read that tries to be both memoir and grammar handbook. The glimpse into the culture of the editorial department at The New Yorker was well worth the sometimes plodding grammar chapters, particularly when they veered into tales of New Yorker employees past. Editors are such an odd bunch; it's nice to be reminded that I definitely belong in this club. Readers really interested in grammar should stick with a standard grammar handbook, but those who want to peek into the minds of the show more editors who enforce some of the strangest grammar rules in the U.S. (Enough with the commas! Let the diaeresis go already!) will enjoy Norris's "grammoir." (I just made that up. Thank you.)

Now please excuse me. I need to dust my souvenir pencil collection. show less

Mary Norris, longtime copy editor, columnist, and author at the New Yorker (The Comma Queen) takes a deep dive into Greece and Greek, exploring them through language and etymology, mythology and culture, geography and world and personal history. The reader is swept along as she discusses the origin of the alphabet, adapted from the Phoenician, the richness of the ancient language and the endless potential translations even of the simplified "grey-eyed goddess" epithet given to Athena by show more Homer. I think the technical term for her linguistic discourse is "geeking out," and I absolutely love this stuff (I was a linguistics major in college and am also a philhellene). Other reviewers found this tedious, which is fair, I suppose. I struggled more with her personal history and revelations of psychoanalysis. It doesn't get any better than the discussions of mythology, and there just aren't enough words to describe the sheer beauty of Greece. There's even a chapter on Cyprus, birthplace of Aphrodite. Perhaps because I've lived there and traveled there so many times that I am well acquainted with the less beautiful parts of the island nation, I began this chapter with surprise and skepticism - surely Greece is more beautiful? But her descriptions of Cyprus - and I have been everywhere she describes multiple times - are so lovely and so spot-on they made me weep and want to return and appreciate them anew. Ms. Norris is also brutally honest about her misadventures with the modern language, something every traveler who learns some of the local language and then stumbles to use it can relate to. Having made many of these same mistakes myself, I laughed frequently. My one reservation is that, while we share a love of Greek, of Greece and Cyprus, and especially of the history and astonishing contributions to western culture, she does not seem to have a love for Greek people, in my opinion the very best part of a long list of wonderfuls. I have never found Greeks and Greek Cypriots to be anything but warm, generous, and very proud of their reputation for philoxenia - love for the foreigner. I recognize that everyone has different interactions and traveling experiences, however, and I also recognize that I have never traveled in Greece or Cyprus without my husband, which makes a big difference - especially for a woman traveling alone!

The audiobook was narrated by the author, which can be a mixed bag. While not an actor, this book needs someone who can pronounce Greek, and also can mispronounce it, as one who has recently learned. Recommended for anyone who enjoys Greek mythology, western history, and Greece. show less