a. På engelsk sættes kommaer, når der er en pause. Derfor kan man ofte høre, hvor kommaerne skal være ved at læse sætningen op: "I think, therefore I am."
b. Når noget hører logisk sammen, skal der ikke ske adskillelse ved komma. I sætningen "I truly believe he was glad", er der to sæt af grundled og udsagnsled, men der sættes ikke komma, fordi det andet sæt af grundled og udsagnsled (bisætningen) "he was glad" er genstandsled for handlingen "I believe", og der sættes naturligvis ikke komma foran et genstandsled.
c. Som regel aldrig komma foran that: "I told him that something was wrong, but he did not believe me". Det kan dog ske ved opremsninger.
d. Der sættes heller ikke komma om en bestemmende/definerende relativsætning: "I told it to the man who was in charge". Men i "I told it to Peter, who is my first cousin" sættes der komma, fordi Peter er defineret i sig selv og ikke behøver at blive defineret af relativsætningen. Denne er en slags ekstra oplysning, og så skal der komma omkring den.
Kommaerne kan blive vigtige for betydningen, når de afgør, om en sætning er en parentetisk eller bestemmende relativsætning. Læg f.eks. mærke til: "My girl friend who is pretty lives in Copenhagen". Uden kommaer defineres veninden som den, der køn. Så har han altså eventuelt flere veninder end hende. Med kommaer har han kun én, og det er en slags ekstra oplysning, at hun er køn.
e. Det er vigtigt, at der sættes punktumer i en tekst. Ellers kan den være uforståelig for én, der skal læse den. Punktum sættes, når en ny sætning starter. Det angiver en større pause end kommaet.
f. Der sættes komma om however og som regel også om too: "Humans, however, are fallible and prone to error, too" (Mennesker fejler imidlertid også og er tilbøjelige til at lave fejl). "The police, too, are not ready".
Forklar tegnsætningen i følgende sætninger:
"Anyway, after we go out and work our hearts out, after you go out and help us turn out the vote, after we've convinced the good Americans to vote, and while they're at it, pull that old George W. lever, if I'm the one, when I put my hand on the Bible, when I put my hand on the Bible, that day when they swear us in, when I put my hand on the Bible, I will swear to not—to uphold the laws of the land."—Toledo, Ohio, Oct. 27, 2000
Sæt tegn (kommaer og punktumer) i følgende sætninger:
"It is time to set aside the old partisan bickering and finger-pointing and name-calling that comes from freeing parents to make different choices for their children"
"I think we're making progress we understand where the power of this country lay it lays in the hearts and souls of Americans it must lay in our pocketbooks it lays in the willingness for people to work hard but as importantly it lays in the fact that we've got citizens from all walks of life all political parties that are willing to say I want to love my neighbor I want to make somebody's life just a little bit better."—Concord Middle School, Concord, N.C., April 11, 2001
Interaktiv øvelse i tegnsætning
Link her til video om komma på engelsk
SUPPLERENDE ØVELSER:
An Adult Disneyland Comma/punctuation.
Put in commas (in version without comma)
Karen Andrews can't speak. Every time she starts to tell her story she puts
her head down and crumples. She is slim and angular and has the faded radiance
of the once-rich even though her clothes are as creased as her forehead. I find
her in the car park of one of Dubai's finest international hotels where she is
living in her Range Rover. She has been sleeping here for months thanks to the
kindness of the Bangladeshi car park attendants who don't have the heart to
move her on. This is not where she thought her Dubai dream would end.
Her story comes out in stutters over four hours. At times her old voice –
witty and warm – breaks through. Karen came here from Canada when her husband
was offered a job in the senior division of a famous multinational. "When
he said Dubai I said – if you want me to wear black and quit booze baby you've
got the wrong girl. But he asked me to give it a chance. And I loved him."
All her worries melted when she touched down in Dubai in 2005. "It was
an adult Disneyland where Sheikh Mohammed is the mouse" she says.
"Life was fantastic. You had these amazing big apartments you had a whole
army of your own staff you pay no taxes at all. It seemed like everyone was a
CEO. We were partying the whole time."
Her husband Daniel bought two properties. "We were drunk on
Dubai" she says. But for the first time in his life he was beginning to
mismanage their finances. "We're not talking huge sums but he was getting
confused. It was so unlike Daniel I was surprised. We got into a little bit of
debt." After a year she found out why: Daniel was diagnosed with a brain
tumour.
One doctor told him he had a year to live; another said it was benign and
he'd be okay. But the debts were growing. "Before I came here I didn't
know anything about Dubai law. I assumed if all these big companies come here
it must be pretty like Canada's or any other liberal democracy's" she
says. Nobody told her there is no concept of bankruptcy. If you get into debt
and you can't pay you go to prison.
"When we realised that I sat Daniel down and told him: listen we need
to get out of here. He knew he was guaranteed a pay-off when he resigned so we
said – right let's take the pay-off clear the debt and go." So Daniel
resigned – but he was given a lower pay-off than his contract suggested. The
debt remained. As soon as you quit your job in Dubai your employer has to
inform your bank. If you have any outstanding debts that aren't covered by your
savings then all your accounts are frozen and you are forbidden to leave the
country.
"Suddenly our cards stopped working. We had nothing. We were thrown
out of our apartment." Karen can't speak about what happened next for a
long time; she is shaking.
Daniel was arrested and taken away on the day of their eviction. It was six
days before she could talk to him. "He told me he was put in a cell with
another debtor a Sri Lankan guy who was only 27 who said he couldn't face the
shame to his family. Daniel woke up and the boy had swallowed razor-blades. He
banged for help but nobody came and the boy died in front of him."
Karen managed to beg from her friends for a few weeks "but it was so
humiliating. I've never lived like this. I worked in the fashion industry. I
had my own shops. I've never..." She peters out.
Daniel was sentenced to six months' imprisonment at a trial he couldn't
understand. It was in Arabic and there was no translation. "Now I'm here
illegally too" Karen says I've got no money nothing. I have to last nine
months until he's out somehow." Looking away almost paralysed with
embarrassment she asks if I could buy her a meal.
She is not alone. All over the city there are maxed-out expats sleeping
secretly in the sand-dunes or the airport or in their cars.
"The thing you have to
understand about Dubai is – nothing is what it seems" Karen says at last.
"Nothing. This isn't a city it's a con-job. They lure you in telling you
it's one thing – a modern kind of place – but beneath the surface it's a
medieval dictatorship." Source: The dark side of Dubai Independent Tuesday 7 April 2009
And here is the text with commas (don't look until you've done the exercise above)
Karen Andrews can't speak. Every time she starts to tell her story, she
puts her head down and crumples. She is slim and angular and has the faded
radiance of the once-rich, even though her clothes are as creased as her
forehead. I find her in the car park of one of Dubai's finest international
hotels, where she is living, in her Range Rover. She has been sleeping here for
months, thanks to the kindness of the Bangladeshi car park attendants who don't
have the heart to move her on. This is not where she thought her Dubai dream
would end.
Her story comes out in stutters, over four hours. At times, her old voice –
witty and warm – breaks through. Karen came here from Canada when her husband
was offered a job in the senior division of a famous multinational. "When
he said Dubai, I said – if you want me to wear black and quit booze, baby,
you've got the wrong girl. But he asked me to give it a chance. And I loved
him."
All her worries melted when she touched down in Dubai in 2005. "It was
an adult Disneyland, where Sheikh Mohammed is the mouse," she says.
"Life was fantastic. You had these amazing big apartments, you had a whole
army of your own staff, you pay no taxes at all. It seemed like everyone was a
CEO. We were partying the whole time."
Her husband, Daniel, bought two properties. "We were drunk on
Dubai," she says. But for the first time in his life, he was beginning to
mismanage their finances. "We're not talking huge sums, but he was getting
confused. It was so unlike Daniel, I was surprised. We got into a little bit of
debt." After a year, she found out why: Daniel was diagnosed with a brain
tumour.
One doctor told him he had a year to live; another said it was benign and
he'd be okay. But the debts were growing. "Before I came here, I didn't
know anything about Dubai law. I assumed if all these big companies come here,
it must be pretty like Canada's or any other liberal democracy's," she
says. Nobody told her there is no concept of bankruptcy. If you get into debt
and you can't pay, you go to prison.
"When we realised that, I sat Daniel down and told him: listen, we
need to get out of here. He knew he was guaranteed a pay-off when he resigned,
so we said – right, let's take the pay-off, clear the debt, and go." So
Daniel resigned – but he was given a lower pay-off than his contract suggested.
The debt remained. As soon as you quit your job in Dubai, your employer has to
inform your bank. If you have any outstanding debts that aren't covered by your
savings, then all your accounts are frozen, and you are forbidden to leave the
country.
"Suddenly our cards stopped working. We had nothing. We were thrown
out of our apartment." Karen can't speak about what happened next for a
long time; she is shaking.
Daniel was arrested and taken away on the day of their eviction. It was six
days before she could talk to him. "He told me he was put in a cell with
another debtor, a Sri Lankan guy who was only 27, who said he couldn't face the
shame to his family. Daniel woke up and the boy had swallowed razor-blades. He banged
for help, but nobody came, and the boy died in front of him."
Karen managed to beg from her friends for a few weeks, "but it was so
humiliating. I've never lived like this. I worked in the fashion industry. I
had my own shops. I've never..." She peters out.
Daniel was sentenced to six months' imprisonment at a trial he couldn't
understand. It was in Arabic, and there was no translation. "Now I'm here
illegally, too," Karen says I've got no money, nothing. I have to last
nine months until he's out, somehow." Looking away, almost paralysed with
embarrassment, she asks if I could buy her a meal.
She is not alone. All over the city, there are maxed-out expats sleeping
secretly in the sand-dunes or the airport or in their cars.