On Lydia Davis’s “Grammar Questions”

An examination of Davis's grammatical choices, which convey devastation despite the narrator's remove.

The narrator’s love for her dying father in Lydia Davis’s “Grammar Questions” is palpable. Even with the narrator’s tendency to intellectualize strong emotions, her sorrow persists. The impact of the story supports Chekov’s dictum, “When you wish to move the reader, write more coldly.” Despite, or maybe partly due to the detachment and emotional distance of the voice, this story nearly left me in tears.

In the phrase “he is dying,” the words he is with the present participle suggest that he is actively doing something. But he is not actively dying. The only thing he is still actively doing is breathing. He looks as if he is breathing on purpose, because he is working hard at it, and frowning slightly. He is working at it, but surely he has no choice. Sometimes his frown deepens for just an instant,as though something is hurting him, or as though he is concentrating harder. Even though I can guess that he is frowning because of some pain inside him, or some other change, he still looks as though he is puzzled, or dislikes or disapproves of something. I’ve seen this expression on his face often in my life, though never before combined with these half-open eyes and this open mouth.

“He is dying” sounds more active than “He will be dead soon.” That is probably because of the word be—we can “be” something whether we choose to or not. Whether he likes it or not, he “will be” dead soon. He is not eating.

“He is not eating” sounds active, too. But it is not his choice. He is not conscious that he is not eating. He is not conscious at all. But “is not eating” sounds more correct for him than “is dying” because of the negative. “Is not” seems correct for him, at the moment anyway, because he looks as though he is refusing something, because he is frowning.

— Lydia Davis, from “Grammar Questions”

This excerpt is from the end of the story. “Grammar Questions” begins with the inquiry: “Now, during the time he is dying, can I say, ‘This is where he lives’?” As the story continues, the protagonist considers what language to use when speaking of her father as he approaches his final moments of life and also what words she will use to refer to his remains, and to refer to him as a person after he is gone.

Here at the story’s end, Davis uses repetition poetically for rhythm and also to enhance meaning. Parts of one sentence repeat in the next to create a textured resonance. The added poignancy of repeated key words stems from the anticipated loss of emotional echoes. In her struggle, the narrator examines the language surrounding the pending loss, letting the words and phrases reverberate. From the first sentence, “he is…dying” and “he is…actively” repeat; in the third, “he is…actively” appears again; in the next sentence, “he is breathing”; in the next, “he is working.”

Then the sentence that begins, “Sometimes…” creates a shift. The present participle “is frowning” transforms into a noun, “his frown,” and that frown “deepens.” The repetition of phrases stops there with a suddenness that lands like a realization. The last sentence of the paragraph shows the transition from familiar to gone: “I’ve seen this expression on his face often in my life, though never before combined with these half-open eyes and this open mouth.”

The use of adverbs also abruptly changes. In the first five sentences, one –ly adverb appears in each (actively, actively, actively, slightly, surely). Then, starting in the sixth sentence, the –ly adverbs cease, replaced by adverbs that show relative time—again one per sentence (sometimes, still), except for the adverb+adverb combination in the last sentence: never before. The shift to time-related adverbs mid-paragraph is a mini performance of the change that is imminent: no more modified action, or even inaction for her father; for herself with respect to her relationship with her father, only looking backwards, remembering.

The adverbs progress toward a transition—from “sometimes” (a modifier that entails both a past and a future, lodged safely in the middle of actions), to “still,” which is more backwards-looking, yet contains presupposition of a future, to “never before.” This phrase, “never before,” introduces a final image of the narrator’s father before he slips into the past tense. This look on her father’s face, a combination of the familiar in the context of a novel expression with his mouth, marks a new phase that she has been trying to linguistically prepare herself for like a diligent student.

At the same point in the paragraph when the adverbs change to show relative time, there is a second shift—the introduction of a series of ors:

— as though something is hurting him, or as though he is concentrating harder

— he is frowning because of some pain inside him, or some other change

— he still looks as though he is puzzled, or dislikes or disapproves of something.

The lack of confidence expressed by “or” indicates that the narrator doesn’t know what to expect and feels increasingly lacking in control. In the final image of that paragraph with the father’s face, the phrases “these half-open eyes” and “this mouth” communicate a deep connection between the narrator and her father. Besides the obvious alternative determiner to this/these here, “his,” another choice would have been that/those: those half-open eyes; that open mouth. But the combination that/those+body part is associated with two contexts: exercise classes (e.g. “squeeze those triceps”) and porn (e.g. “lick that [fill-in-the-blank]”). This/these is much more intimate, typically used to refer to one’s own body. Lady Macbeth’s “Will these hands ne’er be clean?”; Willy Nelson’s “This face is all I have, worn and lived in,” etc. are examples illustrating the self-reference of this/these. That the narrator uses this/these to refer to her father’s mouth and eyes is more direct, and maximally moving. The whole paragraph shows a struggle to separate from him, to reconcile herself with his impending death. The word choice, despite the high level of remove of the tone, indicates the grief experienced by the character, as betrayed partly by these telling determiner choices.

In the final two paragraphs, the narrator returns to the consideration of phrases she might use to describe her father and his state of being both now as he is dying and in the future. Two only adjectives in the short penultimate paragraph are “active” and “dead.” (Dead is repeated a second time.) The narrator struggles with these opposites, intellectually accepting that dead will be the word that will apply to her father in the near future, but subconsciously resisting, just as her father’s expression “disapproves.” The last sentence in this paragraph sticks out after the reflection on wording, because it is a stark declarative that applies to her father in the present. The connection of the sentence to the rest of the paragraph is one of logic: He is not eating, therefore he will be dead soon.

The final paragraph returns to the declarative sentence that ended the previous paragraph, “He is not eating.” The narrator contemplates this predicament of her father’s not eating, comparing the relative agency of “is not eating” and “is dying.” She points to the negative of “not,” finding that it resonates with her because of his expression, one she says “looks as though he is refusing something.” The verb of the final clause of the story is in the present participle, one where the father has a hint of agency and where the suggestion lingers that this is his last action: “…he is frowning.” This is an emotional gut punch, because it conveys the sentiment that the father does not want to die and that the narrator sees this wish and is powerless to help him (and also does not want to lose him).

The entire story uses few adjectives (dead, present, correct, right, active, capable, past, puzzled, open, conscious). Each of the descriptors is used to underscore the precipice between the living and the dead and the linguistic quandary about how to navigate that gulf in the particular case of her father. The reader is left with a moment when the father expresses his will, his “refusal” of death. The use of “is refusing” here is a poignant choice, because the reader knows that his act of “refusing” will be disregarded by the inevitable arrival of death. Nonetheless, conveying his refusal, ending with it, allows the reader to sit in this thwarted will and the sadness of the narrator’s loss and to feel it deeply.