If, were and was

JUNE CASAGRANDE

I wish I weren’t so scared to write this column. I wish I were more

brave.

In fact, when I was little, I wished I were Batgirl. If I could be

her, I thought, I could just wish that such fears be gone, and gone

they would be.

Dizzy yet? I am.

Welcome to subjunctive hell, population: everybody. You, me,

several editors here and even Michael Crichton inhabit a dark and

murky world where nobody seems to know whether to say, “I wish I were

taller” or “I wish I was taller.”

If you remember one thing from this column, remember the word

“subjunctive.” That’s the name for this terrifying grammatical

territory. And if a week from now you realize you still don’t get it,

at least you’ll be able to look it up.

Now, here’s the basic, need-to-know stuff on the subjunctive. So

stop trying to picture me in a Batgirl costume and pay attention.

Hmm. That seems to have further distracted you. Tell you what, if

you pay attention to what follows, I’ll tell you at the end of this

column about the Batgirl costume I wore for about six months when I

was 3 years old. Deal? OK.

The subjunctive applies whenever you’re referring to a “condition

contrary to fact” -- something pretty unlikely: a wish, hope, a

doubt, a desire, a prayer, a request. I always think of the phrase,

“not bloody likely.” It’s not bloody likely I will ever be

reincarnated as Batgirl. That’s why the subjunctive “if I were

Batgirl” is correct.

Often the subjunctive follows the word “if” in some hypothetical

situation or it follows a phrase such as “I hope” or “I wish.” And

while that’s not true 100% of the time, if you associate the

subjunctive with only those situations, you’ll be doing better than

most English speakers, including Michael Crichton and his editors.

Here’s the most important thing to know: In those

“contrary-to-fact” situations, just use “were” in place of “was.” Do

it regardless of whether the subject is singular, plural, first

person, third person, what have you. She wishes she were, they wish

they were, I wish I were, if she were, if they were, if I were.

Again, don’t sweat that stuff. Just “were” it.

When you’re talking about something that might be true, or

something you’re not sure of, you’re no longer speaking in the

“subjunctive mood.” You’re no longer speculating or dreaming or

wishing for something that’s not bloody likely. You’re considering a

real possibility.

Consider this from Page 126 of Crichton’s “Prey.”

“But Julia was so speedy she didn’t notice. I began to wonder if

she were on drugs. Was that the reason for her strange behavior? Was

she on amphetamines?”

It’s obviously a distinct possibility that Julia’s hopped up on

something.

According to the Chicago Manual of Style, Crichton and/or his

editors made the wrong call: “Note that not every ‘if’ takes a

subjunctive verb: when the action or state might be true but the

writer does not know, the indicative is called for.”

Don’t let the word “indicative” throw you here. For purposes of

this conversation, it just means the normal, not-subjunctive way of

saying things. “I began to wonder if she was on drugs” is the

indicative mood. It’s also how Crichton’s book should have put it.

Now, there’s actually a lot more to the subjunctive than this. For

example, “to be” isn’t the only verb whose conjugation changes in

this mood. But I owe you a bat-tale, so I’ll put off these

less-pressing subjunctive situations for a later column and instead

use my remaining space to share this dark secret from my past.

When I was about 3, family lore has it, I spent Halloween and many

months after walking around in a Batgirl costume. That costume

consisted of a leotard with a Batman sticker on the chest, a cape and

(for reasons no one can explain) a cut-off top of a spouted plastic

milk jug -- the part with the spout.

When strangers in the store would ask some polite variation of,

“What on earth are you supposed to be, you poor, weird child with the

plastic spout sticking out of your head?” I had a pat answer. I can’t

testify to whether this is true; I was too young to remember. But the

official story, which family members demand is true, is that I would

answer, “I’m Batgirl. But you can call me Batty.”

* JUNE CASAGRANDE covers Newport Beach and John Wayne Airport. She

may be reached at (949) 574-4232 or by e-mail at

june.casagrande@latimes.com.