To Boldly Go

Tonight after class one of my women students came up to me to talk. I was pleased because this particular student, L., never seems to want to chat or share anything or ask a question. It's not that she's aloof, just kind of self-sufficient. As the other students filed out, she said, "I was reading this book. . . ." "Yes," I breathed, all eagerness. . . "and there was a joke in it, something about someone telling someone else that he split more infinitives than Gene Rodenberry." She looked at me, and then continued. "I know who Gene Rodenberry is, but I want to know what a split infinitive is."

I was so tired I couldn't even think of what an infinitive was, let alone a split infinitive. I said, "Gene Rodenberry, well, he's the one that wrote Star Trek, right?" She said, "Yes."

I said, "Well, a split infinitive, that's something that used to be considered very bad, but even when I was growing up, it was already not such a big deal, I didn't really learn that rule."

Then I had to resort to pulling out Hacker's Writer's Reference to see if I could find a definition of a split infinitive.

"Sit down," I invited the student, placing the book between us cozily. "Ah, yes, there it is," I said. "An infinitive is when you have 'to' and then a verb, like 'to think,' and then if you split the infinitive you put a word between them when it shouldn't be there." The book had a couple of examples, and I showed them to her. "Oh," she said, "so probably the joke was because of the Star Trek opening where it says 'to boldly go where no man has gone before...' "

"Right!" I said. "'To boldly go' is a split infinitive. It should really be 'to go boldly.' But look at this," I continued excitedly, "here it explains how most experts say avoiding the split infinitive is no longer mandatory if it sounds awkward the other way, just like I said. Look, here's another example..."

L. jumped up, her expression pained, interrupting me. "That's okay, I don't really want to know about the grammar, I just wanted to understand the joke."

"Okay," I said, a little taken aback by her forthrightness. But then I said, trying to resurrect my teacherly poise, "It's not such an important rule anyway."

By that time, though, she was halfway out the door.

I have lost track of whether I think this is an amusing or troubling story.