Timothy Noah doesn’t want The New York Times to tell him what to feel about the victims of 9/11. He highlights
this conclusion to a
Dan Barry
column:
The city will retain its records on the 40 names dropped from the list,
just in case new evidence develops. But with only three more open cases,
officials think that they are close to determining a final number of trade
center dead–somewhere, it seems, between 2,749 and 2,752.
How should that make us feel? The fewer the better, perhaps; the fewer the
better.
And Noah says:
The "perhaps" seems a last-minute attempt to inject modesty into the
Times‘ instructions about the proper way
to react to the news it has just presented. But the sentence is insulting
nonetheless. Indeed, it makes the reader feel entirely superfluous: If the
Times knows how the reader is supposed to
emote about the facts just laid before him, why bother having readers at all?
I think this is over-writing by a columnist rather than the Times trying to
tell readers what or how to feel, although I agree that Noah’s interpretation is reasonable. This represents one man’s inability to tighten
his own creative reigns. Many reporters and columnists fancy themselves to be
writers in a sense beyond the mundane, utilitarian denotation of the word. For some, writer is something of a title.
The last line is more about writerly rhythm than content. That "perhaps" is
analogous to a pianist’s flourish of the hand at the end of a measure. As such,
I think it’s more about ethos than
pathos, i.e. "Look at me! I can stick a great ending!"