And

AND I want you to know that there is a real problem out there, overtaking every facet of literature — high brow, low brow, middle brow, in print, online, Twitter, Facebook, non-fiction, everything.

And I just can’t make my peace with it. And, I mean, it’s really disturbing to a person who at least aspires to write well and to read well.

And to read well? And, yes indeed, it’s a pleasure to read something that is well written, even if it is only an objective news report.

And I just can’t find one anymore, since, I mean, I’m reading along and everything is falling into place, all the rules of good writing are being followed, and suddenly I come across a sentence that reads like this:

And . . .

And in case you haven’t noticed, what’s bothering me is the fact that a conjunction, something that is supposed to be in the middle of a sentence, is now — and increasingly so — found at the beginning of a sentence.

And, you know, it’s like the author thinks his or her list of facts or points or evocative scenes or dialogue is so compelling that the last on his list is just going to roaringly stand up, and clinch the deal, by beginning with And.

And so it is. And here. And there. And everywhere.

And, actually, it’s a conceit — you know, my writing is just so crisp and powerful that it can take an And at the beginning of just about any of my sentences.

And, actually, this new tic, this new bad habit, this new conceit, this new fad, this new disfiguration — And And And — is just ridiculous.

And, if you’re sick and tired by now of reading a column, this column, every one of whose sentences begins with And, then you have confirmed and validated my point and my complaint and, well, how we have gone overboard with And.

And so, the next time you read a story in Time magazine or the Denver Post or some sweet but swift-off-the pen novel (or, Heaven forfend, in the Intermountain Jewish News), with a sentence that begins with And, curse the new sloppiness.

And stop reading it.

And write a letter to the author.

And tell him or her to learn to write.

And to know that And is a conjunction for the middle of a sentence, not for its inception.

And that, truth to tell, once in a rare while, in the hands of a genuine master, And at the beginning of a sentence really does anchor and vivify an excellent piece of writing.

And, truth to tell, all the And-And imitators just ruin it for these true masters whose writing shimmers and mesmerizes because they truly know when to begin a sentence with And.

And, alas, their superior resonance is drowned in the sewer of the ubiquitous And as now practiced and over-practiced, now repeated and stereotyped, by the literary paeans of our time, that is, by just about everyone today who picks up a pen or plucks at a keyboard or computer screen.

And it’s a damn shame.

And something I just can’t get over because I know that for every And that has its royal place at the beginning of a sentence there are 10,000 more than do not.

And . . . so there!

AND, TO get serious for a moment, those now reciting Kaddish for a loved found themselves reciting an extra word, a repeated word, that was added to the Kaddish during the High Holiday season:

“L’elah, l’elah, beyond, beyond,” as in G-d is above and beyond all human blessing and praise.

Except that in some prayer books the added word is “u-l’elah — and beyond” — while in other versions it is just plain “l’elah, beyond.”

Is there a difference? Does the “and” — and beyond all human blessing and praise —make a difference? If one recited, G-d is “beyond, beyond” all blessing and praise, or one recited, G-d is “beyond and beyond” all blessing and praise, is it the same?

I think there is an important difference, a subtle one to be sure. To say that G-d is “beyond and beyond” all human expression is to say this: G-d is high above us; and during the High Holiday season we sense that G-d is even higher. As if we are saying that G-d is always beyond us, but now in this season He seems further beyond us.

That really puts G-d in human terms: During the year, G-d is beyond us, and during the High Holiday season we realize that G-d is further beyond us — as if these things can be measured. In affirming the immeasurable Otherness of G-d, we do so by referring to this Otherness in degrees: G-d is beyond and even further beyond us. It’s a paradox.

However, if the word “l’elah, beyond” is merely repeated, as in “G-d is beyond, beyond,” the additional word is merely an emphasis, an especially strong reaffirmation on our part that, indeed, G-d is above and beyond all human expression, even blessing and praise.

And so, that little and in the High Holiday Kaddish makes a difference: G-d is wholly Other, or not.

And note, Kaddish’s and is in the middle of a sentence.

Copyright © 2015 by the Intermountain Jewish News