Wednesday, 17 January 2007

Of Abomination in Prose

Whoever will revise a work of mine knows how impressionable I am, and how indulgent in my whims, to what location soever they direct me, here near and comforting, there remote and disturbing: always shifting without reason, like fickle winds, which wear away foundations now from the north, now from the south; so my voice, once stable, sways and threatens ruin: these are common menaces, and having, peradventure, thought of them a thousand times, I am afraid I have set them down somewhere else, and more profitably; but never in the style of Montaigne, whose sentences, in translation, kick and whinny like a sleeping horse, bucking nothing, stampeding nowhere; in this manner, his manner, I have yet to testify how the pacing and the phrasing of the words before my eyes works upon those my pen extrudes, or how I abominate the resultant inanity.

Jan 17, 2007 11:29:00 AM | Academia, Dissertation, Evolution, Literary Theory, Literature

6 Comments

Adam Kotsko

It's okay to take a break if you're tired of blogging.

Posted by: Adam Kotsko | Wednesday, 17 January 2007 at 02:34 PM

Scott Eric Kaufman

Tired? A bit, but of writing generally. Blogging's its most enjoyable instantiation. Mostly though, I'm tired of reading my own prose and being able to pinpoint, with uncanny accuracy, what I'd been reading when I wrote it. Looking over yesterday's revision, I couldn't help but note how, full of Montaigne's long and loping sentences, my own partook of their "drunken, stumbling, reeling, infirm motion." (See! I did it again! "Partook"? Who says "partook"? Not I!)

Posted by: Scott Eric Kaufman | Wednesday, 17 January 2007 at 02:44 PM

Adam Kotsko

I also tend to mimic styles. It was pretty bad when I was freelancing a couple summers ago, reading corporate 10-Ks all day long.

Posted by: Adam Kotsko | Wednesday, 17 January 2007 at 03:13 PM

Karl Steel

You know who screws me up? Bataille. I almost never read him, but when I do, it's like getting Lyme disease. I just can't shake it.

Posted by: Karl Steel | Wednesday, 17 January 2007 at 09:32 PM

TOLAXOR

THAT WAS A REALLY REALLY REALLY LONG SENTENCE!!!!

SOMETIMES I MIMIC STYLES, TOO!!! AFTER I READ WODEHOUSE, I END UP SOUNDING LIKE BERTIE WOOSTER FOR THE NEXT WEEK OR SO!!!

RIGHT-HO!!!

Posted by: TOLAXOR | Thursday, 18 January 2007 at 05:37 PM

Blended Mole

Very Good Sir.

(The Remains Of The Day)

Posted by: Blended Mole | Friday, 19 January 2007 at 09:13 AM

The comments to this entry are closed.

NEXT POST
Who Wants to be Acknowledged? Part II The best sentence from the chapter I stupidly sent people this morning: His novels are therefore both nostalgic and utopian, morality plays describing how would have become Americans who they are if they had been who they are at the time of the Revolutionary or Civil Wars. See what happens when panics creeps into the night? In the shrill light of day, I recognize some of the basic errors I made. (For example, the introduction should appear earlier, maybe even in the first ten pages.) That said, I appreciate all the feedback—past, present and future—as it clarifies in hours what might otherwise take days.
PREVIOUS POST
Great Headlines in History, Part I GHOST SCARED A SEXTON George Herbert Says the Hand of Patrick Henry Hit Him Hard MESSAGE ABOUT MONROE DOCTRINE That is, Herbert Supposes It Was, but There Was Noise in the Church at the Time, and He Couldn't Hear. Since President Cleveland's message on the Monroe doctrine stirred up criticism among the Anglophile ministers, Sexton Herbert had been troubled with visions of a distressing nature. The spirits of the Fathers of the Republic shook their fists threatening in his face, and in his dreams he heard the martial sound of music beat around his couch, such as that which inspired the minute men of New England in 1776. These dreams increased of late, and the spirits of Washington and of Charles Carroll of Carrolton and of Thomas Jefferson appeared to dance in fury before his affrighted imagination. A couple of Sundays ago his pastor, the Rev. T. Calvin MacClelland, referring to the Venezuelan matter, counseled peace and moderation among all men. Sine then his assistant sexton has had no peace, and his is by this time considered a good judge of a ghost. Sometimes Herbert was forced to go to the basement of the church and keep the steam heater in order. While he was performing this duty the other night an invisible hand smote him on the right cheek and whispered something in his ear. He thinks now that the burden of the strange message had reference to the upholding at any cost of the Monroe doctrine. In describing his experience soon afterward to his friends, Herbert is reported as saying: I saw a figure dressed in knee breeches, with buckles on his shoes, and a periwig on his head. Again it whispered in my ear. The mocking wind, which appeared to me more than once to syllable human sounds, came at length upon my ear distinctly charged with tones which could not be mistaken. If soon disappeared, and I ran upstairs and told Pastor McClelland of my strange experiences. Herbert thinks that he recognized the form and the well-known features of Patrick Henry in that determined pose in which he is represented delivering a speech in the Virginia Legislature, exclaiming with uplifted forefinger, "Give me liberty, or give me death!" Herbert also says he thinks Patrick Henry was very angry that evening about something, but feels that if the spirit of the Virginia statesman was annoyed about anything, it was because of the references of Pastor McClelland a few Sundays before. From The New York Times, January 4, 1896

Scott Eric Kaufman

The Typepad Team

Search

Become a Fan

My Other Accounts

Recent Comments