Lawrence imposes a commanding, all-knowing voice from the start. What feels very much like a deep, serious (albeit sometimes witty) tone guides us from the offset through a weaving of plot and theme from start to finish. Lawrence does not dwell on showing when he can say “she could not love them” without the reader questioning him.
This piece of information on the mother not loving her children is part of the suffocating mood of doom he gets us in, one where dark abstractions take over the plot sometimes. His voice is cold and distant, observant not so much of how things look, but how they feel. For this reason, metaphors are some of the only images we get. These metaphors are of course decidedly pessimistic, like that hard little place in the mother’s heart.
We know these characters economical abstractions, that description of the mother’s heart, or the boy’s hot blue eyes, for example, reveal much more than when he talks about how many children they were, they quiet servants and their house. But these distant descriptions are there for a reason, they are imperative in painting a backdrop.
Much of Lawrence’s writing is extremely vague, first in his descriptions, then on his plot and eventually even in his dialogue, all playing off the notion of what is not said but merely felt. First, he tells us the father went to “some office”, then, the vagueness creeps into the plot as “these prospects never materialized”. He then goes on to telling us that there was always the “sense of a shortage of money.”
This “sense” embodies Lawrence’s abstractions- his theme moves with repetition into the plot, clouding the division between plot and idea. The theme almost literally creeps into the scene, “it came whispering from the springs”, like a venomous cloud that personifies the toys in the room, making dolls self conscious and wooden horses attentive, it moves through the repetition of “there must be more money!”, creating a tangible anxiety through rhythm, to a point where you can almost see the theme.
Soon, the story gets even more abstract as the anxiety moves from a shortage of money to a shortage of luck, presenting itself in the dialogue of all places.
Paul (almost possessed by the nebulous, haunting theme) asks “Then what is luck, mother?” prompting the mother to answer that a lack of luck means a lack of money, thus establishing that abstraction really does rule their world. Here, repetition of “bitter” pounds the mood, sinking us further into the story’s anxious, cloudy tone.
Paul goes off “vaguely”, “seeking inwardly for luck. He wanted luck, he wanted it, he wanted it.”- abstraction, repetition, repetition, anxiety... the tittle, after all, refers to a creepy rocking horse: a tangible object turn into mood.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Orwell showing us how it's done, but not really.
Throughout his rhetoric, Orwell keeps forcing (though ever so gently) the reader to compare his writing to that he claims deficient.
He stars off broader than that, comparing his hypothesis about the decline of the English language to that he deems incorrect.
“Our civilization is decadent and our language- so the argument runs- must inevitably share in the general collapse.
He sets himself apart from this idea by interrupting it to state this isn’t his own. The use of pattern 18, with that undermining, whispering interruption “-or so the argument runs-” sets up such argument to be incorrect, without flat out saying so. Here, Orwell may have just as well ended the sentence with “or so they claim.”
Orwell abstains from outright insulting those claims he deems inaccurate to preserve that helpful, quasi-objective tone. He knows that any other way, he’d be coming off as pompous, especially with the snobbish subject matter of the decline of the English language, most especially because he’s George Orwell.
Always precise in his sentences, Orwell sheds light on the wishy-washiness of other’s arguments. In illustrating how ridiculous their claims of his approach being old fashioned, he resorts to precise metaphor, saying they argue that his reasoning is like “preferring candles to electric light.” His comparison is clear, and it almost feels like he wants us to know that he’s helping them illustrate their claims, that’s just how “general” they are.
Linking inefficiency to lack of precision is something he does from the very start. After wording the opposing view with terms such as “general decline” he describes their view as “half-conscious.” Then, he carries on the comparison (his precision versus their ambiguity) in an even more obvious matter:
“Now, it is clear that the decline of language must ultimately have political and economic causes: it is not simply bad influences of this or that individual writer. The sentence is split right in the middle, him on one side with “must” and “clear”, the opposition in the other with “this or that.”
He then moves on to slamming writing for its ambiguity, just as he did with something more abstract (a point of view) before. Yet, just as before, he never makes his feelings too obvious. He never says “this is how it’s done”, he instead slyly shows us buy continuing the comparisons.
When Orwell shares a point of view, he’s efficient: with sentences like “The point is that the process is irreversible.”, yet remaining accessible by using the first person and “hoping” his examples are clear.
Systematic Orwell lists five examples of poor writing, yet tries to rule out snobbery, telling us he hasn’t picked such examples because their particularly bad. He knows that without that little side note, we’d think of an elitist indulging in mocking poor writing.
In keeping with his helpful demeanor, Orwell picks examples from a variety of sources- professors, letters, pamphlets. That way, he remains objective.
Orwell lists five examples, then two qualities- not “a few” or “a couple”- he’s always precise. Further contrasting, he calls out bad writing for having a “lack of precision”.
In showing us how it’s done, without blatantly giving us a condescending example, he says phrases in poor writing are “like sections of a prefabricated hen-house.” immediately after, he pins down a deficiency of modern writing: the dying metaphor.
Steering away from the “pretentious language” he then condemns, he keeps that helpful, accessible tone throughout his analysis. But he takes liberties with it on occasion by using sermon-like diction, while remaining at our level- “our thoughts are foolish”, “mental vices we now suffer”.
He stars off broader than that, comparing his hypothesis about the decline of the English language to that he deems incorrect.
“Our civilization is decadent and our language- so the argument runs- must inevitably share in the general collapse.
He sets himself apart from this idea by interrupting it to state this isn’t his own. The use of pattern 18, with that undermining, whispering interruption “-or so the argument runs-” sets up such argument to be incorrect, without flat out saying so. Here, Orwell may have just as well ended the sentence with “or so they claim.”
Orwell abstains from outright insulting those claims he deems inaccurate to preserve that helpful, quasi-objective tone. He knows that any other way, he’d be coming off as pompous, especially with the snobbish subject matter of the decline of the English language, most especially because he’s George Orwell.
Always precise in his sentences, Orwell sheds light on the wishy-washiness of other’s arguments. In illustrating how ridiculous their claims of his approach being old fashioned, he resorts to precise metaphor, saying they argue that his reasoning is like “preferring candles to electric light.” His comparison is clear, and it almost feels like he wants us to know that he’s helping them illustrate their claims, that’s just how “general” they are.
Linking inefficiency to lack of precision is something he does from the very start. After wording the opposing view with terms such as “general decline” he describes their view as “half-conscious.” Then, he carries on the comparison (his precision versus their ambiguity) in an even more obvious matter:
“Now, it is clear that the decline of language must ultimately have political and economic causes: it is not simply bad influences of this or that individual writer. The sentence is split right in the middle, him on one side with “must” and “clear”, the opposition in the other with “this or that.”
He then moves on to slamming writing for its ambiguity, just as he did with something more abstract (a point of view) before. Yet, just as before, he never makes his feelings too obvious. He never says “this is how it’s done”, he instead slyly shows us buy continuing the comparisons.
When Orwell shares a point of view, he’s efficient: with sentences like “The point is that the process is irreversible.”, yet remaining accessible by using the first person and “hoping” his examples are clear.
Systematic Orwell lists five examples of poor writing, yet tries to rule out snobbery, telling us he hasn’t picked such examples because their particularly bad. He knows that without that little side note, we’d think of an elitist indulging in mocking poor writing.
In keeping with his helpful demeanor, Orwell picks examples from a variety of sources- professors, letters, pamphlets. That way, he remains objective.
Orwell lists five examples, then two qualities- not “a few” or “a couple”- he’s always precise. Further contrasting, he calls out bad writing for having a “lack of precision”.
In showing us how it’s done, without blatantly giving us a condescending example, he says phrases in poor writing are “like sections of a prefabricated hen-house.” immediately after, he pins down a deficiency of modern writing: the dying metaphor.
Steering away from the “pretentious language” he then condemns, he keeps that helpful, accessible tone throughout his analysis. But he takes liberties with it on occasion by using sermon-like diction, while remaining at our level- “our thoughts are foolish”, “mental vices we now suffer”.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sentences by Joyce
Here are some identifiable sentence types in Joyce’s “Grace”:
“By grace of these two articles of clothing, he said, a man could always pass muster.”
This is an inversion of a normal pattern, and therefore sentence type 15. Joyce could have said “He said that by grace of these two articles of clothing a man could always pass muster.” But instead Joyce reverts it instead.
“Mr. Power, a much younger man, was employed in the Royal Irish Constabulary Office in Dublin Castle.”
Grammatically, the sentence could work without the additional information that “a much younger man” provides. This fragment, framed by commas serves as the sentence modifier.
“Two nights after, his friends came to see him.”
Here, a prepositional phrase precedes the subject and the verb. His friends came to see him, but before that we learn that they did so two nights after. This is pattern #14.
Repeatedly, Joyce has short sentences for the purpose of a transition:
“There were worse husbands. “
This is an example of pattern 19. In the context, the sentence provides a transition between two ideas in a paragraph. In this case, it moves us from a description of the character to his relation with his wife.
Again and again, Joyce has long, explanatory sentences bound to each other by dry, shorter ones. For example:
“The part of mother presented to her no insuperable difficulties and for twenty-five years she had kept the house shrewdly for her husband. Her two eldest sons were launched.”
Notice the contrast between the first sentence and the one that follows it. First, Joyce gives us a long sentence that is sophisticated in content and longer than the one that precedes it. The second, shorter sentence, grounds us by stating a quick fact that also serves as a transition for a second idea, in this case, details about the sons:
“One was in a draper’s shop in Glasgow and the other was a clerk to a tea-merchant in Belfast.”
Joyce resort to this pattern to give us profound insight about his characters, but then reinforce it with realism- precise, perhaps mundane details that take us from idea to day to day fact.
“They were good sons, wrote regularly and sometimes sent money. The other children were still in school.”
Stating the sons were good is then made concrete by details, then me move to precise, irrevocable facts. The other children were still in school.
In the example above, we see a pattern Joyce is fond of, a simple one- A, B and C.
“He took a mouthful, drew it up, saturated his palate with t and then spat it forth into the grate”
This pattern allows the narrator to strip himself of the power of omniscience and become merely a reporter, a witness. Humanizing the narrator may be the reason why after every philosophical insight to the characters, he grounds the rhetoric with facts.
The powers of the narrator are not taken away, but filtered. During the first paragraph, the voice merely reports, knows just as much as we do, it takes a while before we get inside the characters. Joyce wants us to see them outside before we know their minds. He first drops a quick line about the silk hat, points it out to us but doesn’t tell us why its important to the charter until latter.
In fact, a clear break between observing fact and explaining ideas via a gap in the prose (page 259), when we move from Mr. Power to Mrs. Kernan. The latter has more information about Mr. Kernan, who the story seems to be about. Therefore, we move from seeing this unknown man in the ground to the insides of his home life. First a question- Who is he? And then the answer.
“By grace of these two articles of clothing, he said, a man could always pass muster.”
This is an inversion of a normal pattern, and therefore sentence type 15. Joyce could have said “He said that by grace of these two articles of clothing a man could always pass muster.” But instead Joyce reverts it instead.
“Mr. Power, a much younger man, was employed in the Royal Irish Constabulary Office in Dublin Castle.”
Grammatically, the sentence could work without the additional information that “a much younger man” provides. This fragment, framed by commas serves as the sentence modifier.
“Two nights after, his friends came to see him.”
Here, a prepositional phrase precedes the subject and the verb. His friends came to see him, but before that we learn that they did so two nights after. This is pattern #14.
Repeatedly, Joyce has short sentences for the purpose of a transition:
“There were worse husbands. “
This is an example of pattern 19. In the context, the sentence provides a transition between two ideas in a paragraph. In this case, it moves us from a description of the character to his relation with his wife.
Again and again, Joyce has long, explanatory sentences bound to each other by dry, shorter ones. For example:
“The part of mother presented to her no insuperable difficulties and for twenty-five years she had kept the house shrewdly for her husband. Her two eldest sons were launched.”
Notice the contrast between the first sentence and the one that follows it. First, Joyce gives us a long sentence that is sophisticated in content and longer than the one that precedes it. The second, shorter sentence, grounds us by stating a quick fact that also serves as a transition for a second idea, in this case, details about the sons:
“One was in a draper’s shop in Glasgow and the other was a clerk to a tea-merchant in Belfast.”
Joyce resort to this pattern to give us profound insight about his characters, but then reinforce it with realism- precise, perhaps mundane details that take us from idea to day to day fact.
“They were good sons, wrote regularly and sometimes sent money. The other children were still in school.”
Stating the sons were good is then made concrete by details, then me move to precise, irrevocable facts. The other children were still in school.
In the example above, we see a pattern Joyce is fond of, a simple one- A, B and C.
“He took a mouthful, drew it up, saturated his palate with t and then spat it forth into the grate”
This pattern allows the narrator to strip himself of the power of omniscience and become merely a reporter, a witness. Humanizing the narrator may be the reason why after every philosophical insight to the characters, he grounds the rhetoric with facts.
The powers of the narrator are not taken away, but filtered. During the first paragraph, the voice merely reports, knows just as much as we do, it takes a while before we get inside the characters. Joyce wants us to see them outside before we know their minds. He first drops a quick line about the silk hat, points it out to us but doesn’t tell us why its important to the charter until latter.
In fact, a clear break between observing fact and explaining ideas via a gap in the prose (page 259), when we move from Mr. Power to Mrs. Kernan. The latter has more information about Mr. Kernan, who the story seems to be about. Therefore, we move from seeing this unknown man in the ground to the insides of his home life. First a question- Who is he? And then the answer.
Monday, September 14, 2009
The textbook’s fourth pattern is easily identifiable in Lolita, if anything because Nabokov is so fond of it.
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.”- A, B, C.
The ease of this sentences, the way B follows A and C follows B with enamored pace sets the tone for this particular excerpt.
“My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”
The rhythm is established long before it’s made obvious through “Lo. Lee. Ta.” We hear the voice of an infatuated man letting his inner mood taking control over his sentences, a man that moves from sighing sentences to short, more precise ones.
Nabokov tells us about the taping, and then shows us. He’s convincing the reader about the spell the girl has on him without seeming over-eager or persuasive, simply enthralled. We thus get the feeling he’s speaking to himself, his eyes gone as mouth slowly taps his ideas.
“She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.”
Sentences in pattern 4 are scared here and there but these shorter ones are majority in the passage. The use of repetition “She was” continues the rhythm. A paced, controlled tapping that reflects a state of mind, the brevity of the sentences never accelerate the pace, nor do they allow it to hyperventilate.
That’s not the case with the following:
“I am going to pass around in a minute some lovely, glossy-blue picture-postcards. He owned a luxurious hotel on the Riviera. His father and two grandfathers had sold wine, jewels and silk, respectively.”
The rythim here is more eager, less ephemeral, more present. It also reflects that in these sentences, he’s stating fact, not feeling- “But in my arms she was always Lolita” versus “He owned a luxurious hotel in the Rivera.”
Though not terribly diverse, this second passage is reacher in diversity of sentence style, for it reflects a different state of mind. The character is the same, he’ll never be flowery or showy, but his mood certainly changes- the first excerpt is hypnotic, the second factual.
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.”- A, B, C.
The ease of this sentences, the way B follows A and C follows B with enamored pace sets the tone for this particular excerpt.
“My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”
The rhythm is established long before it’s made obvious through “Lo. Lee. Ta.” We hear the voice of an infatuated man letting his inner mood taking control over his sentences, a man that moves from sighing sentences to short, more precise ones.
Nabokov tells us about the taping, and then shows us. He’s convincing the reader about the spell the girl has on him without seeming over-eager or persuasive, simply enthralled. We thus get the feeling he’s speaking to himself, his eyes gone as mouth slowly taps his ideas.
“She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.”
Sentences in pattern 4 are scared here and there but these shorter ones are majority in the passage. The use of repetition “She was” continues the rhythm. A paced, controlled tapping that reflects a state of mind, the brevity of the sentences never accelerate the pace, nor do they allow it to hyperventilate.
That’s not the case with the following:
“I am going to pass around in a minute some lovely, glossy-blue picture-postcards. He owned a luxurious hotel on the Riviera. His father and two grandfathers had sold wine, jewels and silk, respectively.”
The rythim here is more eager, less ephemeral, more present. It also reflects that in these sentences, he’s stating fact, not feeling- “But in my arms she was always Lolita” versus “He owned a luxurious hotel in the Rivera.”
Though not terribly diverse, this second passage is reacher in diversity of sentence style, for it reflects a different state of mind. The character is the same, he’ll never be flowery or showy, but his mood certainly changes- the first excerpt is hypnotic, the second factual.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Clinton's Inagural Speech.
Presidential rhetoric appears to be more effective when encapsulated in tight, neat, digestible pattern. Americans have grown to expect their leaders to inspire, uplift and reflect within the bounds of efficient familiarity. Clinton’s inaugural speech hits all the marks in the checklist, evoking cheers and tears through pattern within pattern, a speech with a Russian nesting doll system of sorts, where a period rests inside another.
Certainly recurring (and bound to) a periodic style, Clinton uses parallelism to provide the clues he’ll latter use to conclude in a climax, within another climax, within another. There is of course no room for running style, no one wants their president thinking aloud.
Let’s analyze the speech from the inside out. Parallelism is used in all layers-
“From our revolution, the Civil War, to the Great Depression to the civil rights movement, our people have always mustered the determination to construct from these crises the pillars of our history.”
The historical events he lists in parataxis provide suspension in a small scale. They are paralleled clues that lead to the period’s climax- the American tradition to “construct from these crises”. First he lists the ingredients, then he tells us why.
The paragraph before it uses the same formula:
“Though our challenges are fearsome, so are our strengths. And Americans have ever been a restless, questing, hopeful people. We must bring to our task today the vision and will of those who came before us.”
American attributes are listed in the same way the historical events are listed. First the clues that create the suspension and then the tiny climax.
Both examples rest in the same layer, and are thus parallel to each other. These two periods suspend a larger tension, working towards a larger climax.
On a broader level, we have broader pattern that houses periods of its own. The paragraphs starting with “To renew America… ” are connected to each other by their pattern- they start with paralleled opening phrases, an explanation an a conclusion. These then work as speeches within the speech with parallelism of their own inside of them.
The section starting with “To renew America, we must revitalize our economy” reaches its individual climax through a smaller pattern inside of it- Let us put aside, Let us resolve, Let us give this capital back. This entire portion about the economy suspends the entire speech in the same level that “To renew America, we must meet challenges abroad as well at home” and “ To renew America, we must be bold.”
The entire speech reaches its climaxed when it ties everything with its opening metaphor. Clinton compared the power of historical event with forcing the spring. The levels within the levels were thus working towards a climax for the metaphor, and achieves it with
“Yes, you, my fellow Americans have forced the spring. Now, we must do the work the season demands.” He told you it was coming, he explained what it demands, the speech is now tightly wrapped. Cue the applause.
Certainly recurring (and bound to) a periodic style, Clinton uses parallelism to provide the clues he’ll latter use to conclude in a climax, within another climax, within another. There is of course no room for running style, no one wants their president thinking aloud.
Let’s analyze the speech from the inside out. Parallelism is used in all layers-
“From our revolution, the Civil War, to the Great Depression to the civil rights movement, our people have always mustered the determination to construct from these crises the pillars of our history.”
The historical events he lists in parataxis provide suspension in a small scale. They are paralleled clues that lead to the period’s climax- the American tradition to “construct from these crises”. First he lists the ingredients, then he tells us why.
The paragraph before it uses the same formula:
“Though our challenges are fearsome, so are our strengths. And Americans have ever been a restless, questing, hopeful people. We must bring to our task today the vision and will of those who came before us.”
American attributes are listed in the same way the historical events are listed. First the clues that create the suspension and then the tiny climax.
Both examples rest in the same layer, and are thus parallel to each other. These two periods suspend a larger tension, working towards a larger climax.
On a broader level, we have broader pattern that houses periods of its own. The paragraphs starting with “To renew America… ” are connected to each other by their pattern- they start with paralleled opening phrases, an explanation an a conclusion. These then work as speeches within the speech with parallelism of their own inside of them.
The section starting with “To renew America, we must revitalize our economy” reaches its individual climax through a smaller pattern inside of it- Let us put aside, Let us resolve, Let us give this capital back. This entire portion about the economy suspends the entire speech in the same level that “To renew America, we must meet challenges abroad as well at home” and “ To renew America, we must be bold.”
The entire speech reaches its climaxed when it ties everything with its opening metaphor. Clinton compared the power of historical event with forcing the spring. The levels within the levels were thus working towards a climax for the metaphor, and achieves it with
“Yes, you, my fellow Americans have forced the spring. Now, we must do the work the season demands.” He told you it was coming, he explained what it demands, the speech is now tightly wrapped. Cue the applause.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
A Silver Dish
Bellow intertwines the meaningful and the mundane as a device to reveal more about the main character. Much in the way stream of consciousness behaves; there is little or no distinction between the light and the heavy- there is no transition between the two, giving the piece an erratic and improvised tone that conveys both appropriate honesty and unpretentiousness.
“On the White Nile, Woody had the impression that he had gone back to the pre-Adamite past, and he brought reflections on this impression home to South Chicago. He brought also a bundle of hashish from Kampala. In this he took a chance with the customs inspectors, banking perhaps on his broad build, frank face, high color. He didn’t look like a wrongdoer, a bad guy; he looked like a good guy.”
The sophisticated notion of “bringing” a life lesson learned on a trip is immediately grounded by the physical and more common action of transporting hashish. “Veni, Vidi, Vici” is cited by Lanham as a basic example of parataxis. The same analysis is applicable to this paragraph, for the connecting sentence between both ideas (the reflection and the hashish) is not connecting at all, if anything it provides the same service as the comma between “Veni” and “Vidi”.
By radically different experiences at an equal level, Bellow also demands the reader to pay equal attention from both of them, for we aught to learn of this character in particular through both the complex and the common. This, after all, is what the character set to be from the very start- Woody is both a tile contractor and an intellectual. The constructions of the sentences that describe him reflect that. Woody is a big concept, but one meticulously conveyed through small actions of wording
Had there been a paragraph break, or had both characterizing examples been divorced through hypotaxis (in terms of relevance), the observant life realization would have been overly romanticized and the hashish dismissed as merely comical. It is thought the use of parataxis that they balance each other out so one is not overly analyzed and the other overlooked.
Comedy results out of Bellow's defiance to take his description too seriously (as cliché as that idea is). There isn’t even a paragraph break between the dwelling on the life-changing African experience and the mundane airport stress, thus ferociously establishing the child-like tone appropriate to the story.
“I mean! As Woody put it, be realistic.”
Casual, familiar and almost annoyed, the use of italics jumps as a statement about the story. It stands out and yells at the reader that Woody is a person just like us, that familiarity is to be expected.
“Woody, a businessman in South Chicago, was not an ignorant person. He knew more such phrases than you would expect a tile contractor (offices, lobbies, lavatories) to know.”
Through the humorous insertion of the list in parataxis, a list that provides with superficially unnecessary information, Bellows keeps emphasizing the tone and characterization. The specifics, the tangible offices, lobbies, lavatories (further emphasized by pathos) grounds grander ideas in the same way the hashish did for the African experience. The specifics further ground the already dry notions that being a contractor evoke.
“On the White Nile, Woody had the impression that he had gone back to the pre-Adamite past, and he brought reflections on this impression home to South Chicago. He brought also a bundle of hashish from Kampala. In this he took a chance with the customs inspectors, banking perhaps on his broad build, frank face, high color. He didn’t look like a wrongdoer, a bad guy; he looked like a good guy.”
The sophisticated notion of “bringing” a life lesson learned on a trip is immediately grounded by the physical and more common action of transporting hashish. “Veni, Vidi, Vici” is cited by Lanham as a basic example of parataxis. The same analysis is applicable to this paragraph, for the connecting sentence between both ideas (the reflection and the hashish) is not connecting at all, if anything it provides the same service as the comma between “Veni” and “Vidi”.
By radically different experiences at an equal level, Bellow also demands the reader to pay equal attention from both of them, for we aught to learn of this character in particular through both the complex and the common. This, after all, is what the character set to be from the very start- Woody is both a tile contractor and an intellectual. The constructions of the sentences that describe him reflect that. Woody is a big concept, but one meticulously conveyed through small actions of wording
Had there been a paragraph break, or had both characterizing examples been divorced through hypotaxis (in terms of relevance), the observant life realization would have been overly romanticized and the hashish dismissed as merely comical. It is thought the use of parataxis that they balance each other out so one is not overly analyzed and the other overlooked.
Comedy results out of Bellow's defiance to take his description too seriously (as cliché as that idea is). There isn’t even a paragraph break between the dwelling on the life-changing African experience and the mundane airport stress, thus ferociously establishing the child-like tone appropriate to the story.
“I mean! As Woody put it, be realistic.”
Casual, familiar and almost annoyed, the use of italics jumps as a statement about the story. It stands out and yells at the reader that Woody is a person just like us, that familiarity is to be expected.
“Woody, a businessman in South Chicago, was not an ignorant person. He knew more such phrases than you would expect a tile contractor (offices, lobbies, lavatories) to know.”
Through the humorous insertion of the list in parataxis, a list that provides with superficially unnecessary information, Bellows keeps emphasizing the tone and characterization. The specifics, the tangible offices, lobbies, lavatories (further emphasized by pathos) grounds grander ideas in the same way the hashish did for the African experience. The specifics further ground the already dry notions that being a contractor evoke.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Analysis of Verb-Style Writing.
The following is an article that discusses the finding of “a clue to life” in a comet. Kenneth Chang, the author of the article, cautiously uses verb style to facilitate information that would otherwise be indigestible to an uninformed reader.
“For the first time, a building block of proteins — and hence of life as we know it — has been found in a comet.
That adds to the prevailing notion that many of the ingredients for the origin of life showered down on the early Earth when asteroids (interplanetary rocks orbiting the inner solar system) and comets (dirty ice balls that generally congregate in the outer solar system beyond Neptune) made impact with the planet.”
Chang’s hyphenated first sentence indicates eagerness on his part in sharing the information. The way the sentence is structured makes it clear that this is big news.
“and hence life as we know it” interrupts what would otherwise be a bland sentence to underline what is so important about it. The wording of the fragment is familiar and borders on science fiction cliché, but it nevertheless succeeds in pointing out what may get lost in duller writing. The reader, who is likely no expert in real science, recognizes the urgency in the words. Part of why “life as we know it” is so engaging, and its wording so popular, is that fact it’s written in verb style. Something in noun form, like “compatible with the current definition of life”, lacks the necessary punch. Verb form provides that inclusive “we”.
The following paragraph also uses verb form- proteins are found, ingredients shower and dirty ice balls congregate. These are not captivating nouns all by themselves, but in this context, and via the use of verb style, Chang conveys relevance to them without romanticizing the facts or flirting with a distracted personal fascination for the subject. Verb style in this case manages to highlight without poeticizing, to efficiently inform without overstating.
Verb style, despite its subtlety through most of the article, serves to make the information more reader-friendly. A scientist is quoted in the article-
“That means production of amino acids is fairly common,”
This noun-style phrase from someone in the field has the stoic tone attributed to the sciences, proving Chang’s verb style is a facilitator of information.
Chang, Kenneth. “From a Distant Comet, a Clue to Life.” The New York Times 18 Aug. 2009. NYTIMES.com. August 31, 2009
Analysis of Noun-Style Writing
Noun style writing tends to disassociate an action from its authors- it turns action into noun and strips it of accountability. In explaining the difference between noun and verb styles, Lanhaman points out that bureaucrats prefer the former.
The effect of anonymity, however, is opposite to the intentions of Brooks Barnes and Michael Cieply, who wrote an article about Disney’s latest move in the New York Times.
Typical of business sections, companies are attributed personalities through the use of verb form. Disney acts a certain way, it has a certain behavior and it is normally portrayed in these circles as powerful, ambitious and aggressive. This article is no exception, it’s title reads “Disney Swoops into Action, Buying Marvel for $4 Billion.”
The writing plays with the notion of a company having a psyche and at the same time hints on words that evoke super-heroes, like “swoop” and “action”.
The article then makes use of noun style writing. In these instances, the writing doesn’t shy away from its initial “all cards on the table” approach, but rather moves further in the rout of personifying.
“The acquisition points to the film industry’s biggest issue at the moment: access to capital. Those who have it are finding opportunity; those who do not may be left behind.”
Disney and Marvel seize to become the protagonists of the article as the business venture itself becomes a noun (albeit one without an official name) and not merely an action of the companies. Disney doesn’t point out through acquiring, the acquisition itself does.
“The deal is not without risk. Questions include whether Marvel’s lesser-known characters can be effectively groomed into stars and to what degree the most valuable and heavily exploited assets (Spider-Man, the X-Men) have weakened in box-office power.”
The hand shakers become less relevant as “the deal” itself steals the spotlight. The article started out by talking about the companies, then delved into discussing their actions and ended up analyzing “the deal” as something that “is” as opposed to something that happened. The use of noun style in this case, as in other writing that discuss a pact or agreement allow for the action to become a noun, reflecting the fact that it will have a lasting and significant effect.
Barnes, Brooks and Cieply, Michael. “Disney Swoops into Action, buying Marvel for $4 Million.” The New York Times 18 Aug. 2009. NYTIMES.com. August 31, 2009
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