¡Ay, Caramba!

I recently spent some time sitting in a hospital waiting room. Having forgotten to bring a book or a laptop, I was starved for reading matter. However, on the wall, I spotted some posters advising patients of their rights. Desperate, I read them all.

In English and in Spanish.

The only Spanish class I ever took was in eighth grade… and it was only for half a year. Yet a surprising amount of the language is still with me, over sixty years later. This is odd… since the only time I make use of my little Spanish is while reading menus or online recipes.

What struck me, as I sat there, was how different languages are. Many have letters in their alphabets that we lack, and English has a paucity of punctuation. Where are the tildes, umlauts, circumflexes, cedillas, accents (grave and aigu)? Where are the gendered articles, nouns, and verbs?

My immediate response was to the inverted exclamation point that opened a declarative remark in Spanish. In English, we have no idea that the sentences we are beginning to read are supposed to be exciting until we get to the end. This can be embarrassing if we are reading them aloud—for the first time—before an unsympathetic audience.

Cranky old guy aside: I’ve noticed a curious speech pattern that has become common among today’s young folk. They tend to use a rising inflection at the end of their sentences; it makes all of their sentences sound like questions. For old folks, like me, I am forced to imagine that—somewhere in the middle of forming their thoughts into words—they begin to doubt their own veracity.

But I digress.

It occurs to me that the absence of inverted exclamation points and question marks has some interesting effects on writers of English. Since we don’t have punctuation that telegraphs the punch of our sentences, readers don’t know where we’re headed. While this is a weakness (as in the hypothetical example, above), it can also be a useful tool.

For example, we can write long complex sentences, full of clauses (parenthetical or otherwise), that—only at the very last minute change direction in some unexpected way. One sentence can function like an entire O Henry story.

Good luck trying to do that in Spanish.

Paid subscribers to these substack pages get access to complete editions of two of my novellas. Noirvella is a modern story of revenge, told in the style of film noir. Unbelievable is a kind of rom-com that forms around a pompous guy who is conceited, misinformed, and undeservedly successful. Both books are sold by Amazon, but paid subscribers get to read them for free. Also, substack pages (older than eight months) automatically slip behind a paywall—where only paid subscribers can read them. If you’re interested in reading any of them, you can subscribe (giving you free access to them), or buy them in book form should you prefer the feel of a physical book. Meanwhile, it is easy to become a paying subscriber (just like supporting your favorite NPR station). It’s entirely optional, and—even if you choose not to do so—you’ll still get my regular substack posts—and I’ll still be happy to have you as a reader.