On the matter of clichés, usage
experts take a moderate stance. Patricia O’Conner’s advice is
typical: “Think of clichés as condiments, the familiar
ketchup, mustard, and relish of language. Use when
appropriate, and don’t use too much” (168). The problem,
says O’Conner, is that we can’t possibly eliminate all
clichés: “It would take a roomful of Shakespeares to
replace them with fresh figures of speech, and before
long those would become clichés, too” (168).
Bryan
Garner agrees, though with tongue in cheek:
“[Clichés are] occasionally just the ticket, but only
when no other phrase fits the bill. Despite that
standard, you’ll find more clichés in modern writing
than you could shake a stick at” (128).
Though most experts
allow an occasional cliché, they by no means favor lazy
reliance on threadbare expressions. For example, even
though she speaks of clichés as “condiments,” Patricia
O’Conner devotes nine pages to bashing her least
favorites. Consider three pithy entries in her list:
Bite the bullet Save your teeth. (169)
Can of worms Don’t open this one too often. And
don’t unnecessarily disturb its cousins, nest of
vipers and hornet’s nest. (170)
Cool as a cucumber Using this too much is uncool.
(171)
Sometimes, says Bryan Garner, it’s possible to
breathe new life into a cliché—saying, for example, that
a farmer should “tend to his better calf” or that
“bankruptcy is sometimes a fate worse than debt” (128).
Rene J. Cappon makes the same point: “If there is one
way to squeeze juice from a cliché, it’s by twisting it
to yield a new and surprising meaning: Bedfellows
make strange politics” (87). Here are a few more
nicely twisted clichés:
He knows all about art, but he doesn’t know what he
likes.
—James Thurber
The victor belongs to the spoils.
—F. Scott Fitzgerald
Some things have to be believed to be
seen.
—Ralph Hodgson
To
sum up: The rule against clichés still holds, but it is
a rule of thumb that admits the occasional
exception.