(copied and pasted from my Editing final)
Bill Walsh was (as of 2000) a journalist of nineteen years working at The Washington Post. He designed Lapsing into a Comma: A Curmudgeon’s Guide to the Many Things That Can Go Wrong in Print––and How to Avoid Them with writers and copy editors in mind, but anyone with an interest in linguistics or (though not Walsh’s intention) the evolution of language in the twenty-first century will likely find at least the first third enjoyable and even useful if they’re lucky. The book succeeds in providing Walsh’s perspective on stylistic choices made by copy editors in a clear and often amusing manner, but some of his more passionate opinions were certainly more applicable in 2000 than today.
Consisting of 226 pages, plus index, Lapsing into a Comma spends its first third covering larger topics like Walsh’s many views on compounds, honesty in journalism, and arbitrary capitalization. One primary focus is “disturbing trends in the information age” (p. 13). He holds strong stances on an atrocious trend toward unhyphenating “on-line” and “e-mail,” citing fervent AltaVista searches to support his rapidly escalating disappointment in humanity’s evolving linguistic tastes because of the (consciously capitalized) Internet. He considers website (as opposed to Web site) “gibberish” (p. 223). Over twenty years later, these opinions prompt smirks from readers, but not all of Walsh’s points are irrelevant. He notes, “Internet discourse is unfiltered, and in losing the filter that blocks material without mass appeal, we also lose the filters that separate fact from fiction and standard from substandard language. The power of the usage police has been significantly diluted” (p. 17). Yes, Walsh’s mention of standard versus substandard language reeks mildly of classism and a specific breed of academic pretentiousness, but his position stands: the internet’s contribution to publication unregulated by the Big Five or universities has resulted in less attention paid to grammatical style.
In the last two thirds of Lapsing, Walsh gets specific with “The Curmudgeon’s Stylebook,” which explores intricate details of grammar, spelling, and pronunciation. Though applicable in many editorial contexts, the book is clearly a product of Walsh’s journalism background, as many of its examples center subjects likely to come up in journalism or politics (e.g., Opponents of a bill that would cut the capital-gains tax held a news conference yesterday (p. 97)). Highlights include Walsh’s declaration that he is “pissed” (p. 107) not to be included on one of Hollywood’s fact-checking teams, his careful reminder that the term Books on Tape is trademarked and that audio book is the more legally cautious label, and a recommended hyphen for buck-naked. True, picking out Lapsing’s most outdated and niche style entries may seem to limit a comprehensive review, but I find that they distinguish an overall trend: bottom line, Walsh wrote this book to entertain his audience and present his most nitpicky takes rather than provide a genuinely useful stylebook an editor will pick up as a daily tool.
Lapsing into a Comma’s frequent mentions of the Clinton administration (over two dozen occurrences, for those counting) and reminder that AOL is America Online, not American Online (p. 100), among other indicators, signal the book’s primary limitation: for all Walsh’s laments over wasted ink, many of his rants and recommendations are now entirely irrelevant and transform his book into more amusing cultural artifact than practical copy editing guide. I award him three generous stars; the entertainment value––an amalgamation of intentional dirty humor and gloriously outdated 2000s perspectives on hyphenation––combined with a moderately useful stylebook makes Lapsing into a Comma worth the read, but not worth the money. Check Lapsing out from a library, borrow it from a friend, but barring time travel to an early 2000s newsroom, it’s not quite relevant enough to justify $14.55 from Amazon.