Mea Culpa: Apropostrophe

Susanna Richards expounds on the appropriate use of a punctuation mark that is, to its own mind at least, anything but common

No one wants to buy onions when a dog, or indeed a pig, has been at them (Getty)

The amount of confusion generated by the tiny, curved mark known as the apostrophe is remarkable. But then again, it often seems to be the case that a very small thing can possess great power and thereby have an inordinate effect on our writing.

Take, for example, the comma – the mischievous child of English punctuation, as common as the house sparrow and always getting into places where it isn’t supposed to be. A comma, with its impish, asymmetric smile, can throw a whole sentence into chaos, and, given the manner in which these little creatures sit around on my desk, kicking their heels against the filing drawers and calling out “Me! Me!” whenever I happen to pause to wonder which mark I need, I suspect they secretly enjoy it.

But back to the apostrophe: though visually a comma in all but location, the distinction gives it a sense of self-importance. This rubs off on all of us, with some keen to afford it the respect it so loftily demands, and others quite resolute in their disregard for its airs and graces. Given that my work depends on the cooperation of this fragile little creature and its fellows on the page, I take the respectful route.