To Coin a Phrase

I was talking with a friend the other day and noticed we were both conversing in clichés more than usual. We cut to the chase and left no stone unturned while things came down the pike when they weren’t coming out of the woodwork. We all use clichés when speaking, since it is hard to be extemporaneously original and eloquent at all times, but on those occasions when they dominate our speech, it is likely that we don’t have much of substance to say. This was indeed the case the other day: nothing much new had happened (about which either of us wanted to talk anyway) since the last time we’d met, so we filled the air with familiar sounds before going our separate ways. Speech is one thing, but excessive use of cliché when writing is simply lazy – a vice not altogether alien to me. Well, there is no point crying over spilled milk.

Clichés often linger past the time when their literal meaning is understood. For example, “by and large,” a phrase I employed twice in the same blog three posts ago, is a sailing term meaning “against and with the wind,” which I’d bet is news to most people who use it in place of "generally." Clichés often are clever – or at least so they seem the first 1000 times we hear them. Unsurprisingly, then, Shakespeare is the origin of more than a few: wild goose chase (Romeo and Juliet); be-all, end-all (Macbeth); dead as a doornail (Henry VI, Part II); heart of gold (Henry V); break the ice (The Taming of the Shrew); good riddance (Troilus and Cressida); cruel to be kind (Hamlet); seen better days (As You Like It); and, well, you get the idea. Yet, not every familiar saying is a cliché. The word “cliché” originally referred to block printing, which gives us clue about how a saying transitions to one: overuse. When a phrase or word combination has become so trite that it is less effective than the simple word it replaces, it is probably best to use the simple word. So, at this juncture (which is a cliché), it is probably better to describe someone as reacting “impulsively” rather than “at the drop of a hat.” To be sure, “overuse” is (here comes a cliché) in the eye of the beholder but most of us will say (yes, here comes another) “I know it when I see it.”

None of this really matters except to writers who wish their prose to be more fresh than stale. Nowadays, however, a great many folks self-publish, whether in print or online (including blogs such as this one) with little or no editorial review. A second or third thought given to style, along with the basics of spelling and grammar, can do no harm. They (we) might find helpful It’s Been Said Before: A Guide to the Use and Abuse of Clichés by lexicographer Orin Hargraves, past president of the Dictionary Society of North America. The book is pretty much what the title says it is. Hargraves categorizes the different types of clichés and explains how they differ from idioms. He discusses hundreds of examples, with remarks on how each one may be best used or avoided and in what context. He readily admits that any such discussion is subjective, but his solid credentials make his opinions worth noting.

Hargraves doesn’t eschew all clichés even in semiformal prose. There are times when they are apt and when they can convey an idea to a reader quickly in an easily understandable way. He urges authors to write mindfully, however, and to consider if a shopworn phrase (yes, “a shopworn phrase” is a cliché) is the best way to convey one’s meaning. He quotes George Orwell, a very mindful writer, regarding clichés:

“They will construct your sentences for you – even think your thoughts for you to a certain extent – and at need they will perform the important service of partially concealing your meaning even from yourself.”

So, rather than immediately resorting to cliché when at the keyboard burning the midnight oil, bite the bullet, pull out all the bells and whistles, wear many hats, take the cake, and then breathe a sigh of relief.

Biff Rose – Ballad of Cliches (1969)