Mario's mention of 'purple prose' reminded me of a linked subject I'd been meaning to write about – elegant variation.
I don't know whether the dislike of repetition is instinctive or instilled but I know that whatever I'm writing, using the same word twice in close proximity – unless deliberately – sets off a little warning buzzing in my head. It makes me uncomfortable, even if I'm just writing a quick email to a friend. And certainly it's something my copy editor pounces on if I've slipped up.
The danger is that it's so easy to go too far the other way, when the effort not to repeat puts the language through terrible contortions. It was HW Fowler, author of The King's English – the bible for classic English style – who introduced the phrase 'elegant variation'. Garner's Modern American Usage suggested that it should be rechristened 'inelegant usage', misunderstanding the ironic tone of Fowler's comment – 'elegant' implied 'pretentious.'
There are some wonderful examples, particularly in newspapers. At the Guardian newspaper they are known as 'povs' after a hapless journalist, trying to avoid repetition when he was writing about carrots, described them as 'the popular orange vegetable.' It went along with another where 'the elongated yellow fruit' was used to describe - well, I hardly need to tell you, do I?
Once you start looking out for it you see it everywhere. I found an article about the emperor who was later termed 'His Majesty' and then called 'the monarch.' (See what I did there?) Sports writing does it a lot – you get the guy's name, then it'll be 'the midfielder' or 'the star scorer' or 'the bearded player' – I could go on and on.
This approach is apparently particularly popular in France. A humorist explained, 'In an article about Gaston Deferre, it's OK to say Deferre once. So next you say the mayor of Marseilles. Then the Minister of Planning. Then, the husband of Esmonde. Then Gastounet, and then ... well then you stop talking about him because you don't know what to call him next.'
My favorite, though, was the report about a pet rat that was so fat it got stuck in an opening. In the course of the article, it became 'the rotund rodent', 'the furry fatso', 'the chubby pet', the well-upholstered mammal'. After that, I suppose the reporter just had to stop talking about it because, as the humorist said, he didn't know what to call it next.
I still can't stop myself from trying to avoid repetition but it's a timely warning to be very, very careful.
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Showing posts with label elegant variation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elegant variation. Show all posts
Monday, November 25, 2019
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
More elegant variations
Aline's post this week touched close to home, because I am in the midst of rewrites on my latest Amana Doucette novel, and am very attuned to the style, quality of language, and word use in the text (along with fixing all the plot holes, gaping inconsistencies, and other large failings). It takes many eyes to catch all the word repetitions and find good quality alternatives. First I try to catch as many as I can, and then I pray the copyeditor and proofreader catches even more. But sometimes they sneak through even the most thorough editing, and I only spot them while doing a public reading after the book is out, and the horse has truly left the barn. I've been known to change the offensive word on the fly in these cases.
Reading aloud is very useful not only for catching those pesky repetitions, but for listening to the overall flow of the sentence and the rhythm of the words. Rhythm affects readability and pleasure. Elegant variation can refer to much more than single words. It can refer to sentence structure, sentence length, syllables and accents. Too many long sentences draw out and slow down a story. Too many short sentences make for a jerky ride. Although short vs. long sentences can be effective to vary tension and pacing, in general a paragraph works best with varied sentence length.
Starting three sentences in a row with the same word or structure sounds clumsy. eg. He picked up the book and began to read. He wasn't sure he liked it. He would have preferred a more exciting tale. (Forgive the clunky prose, it's late and my imagination is fried). An elegant variation would be: He picked up the book and began to read. Would he like it? A more exciting tale might be better. Mix up the syntax, create subordinate clauses, invert sentences, etc.
In another elegant variation, I try to mix up long and short words. Some combinations create pleasing rhythms and others land like a thud. I have often resorted to the thesaurus in search of a one-syllable word to replace the existing two-syllable one, because there were already a couple of two or three-syllable words.
There are times, however, when repetition can pack a powerful punch. It makes the message stand out. Alliteration is one example. So is parallel construction – using the same word, phrase, or sentence structure in a series of sentences. Dickens' famous "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times", etc. is a memorable example of this technique. Once again, reading the section aloud is useful in determining whether the effect is powerful, clunky, or just plain silly. Here as always, a little repetition goes a long way.
So I return to my rewrites, trying to keep all these ideas in my mind at once, and sure that I will miss some clunker.s When that happens, I can only hope the copyeditor is there to make the catch.
Reading aloud is very useful not only for catching those pesky repetitions, but for listening to the overall flow of the sentence and the rhythm of the words. Rhythm affects readability and pleasure. Elegant variation can refer to much more than single words. It can refer to sentence structure, sentence length, syllables and accents. Too many long sentences draw out and slow down a story. Too many short sentences make for a jerky ride. Although short vs. long sentences can be effective to vary tension and pacing, in general a paragraph works best with varied sentence length.
Starting three sentences in a row with the same word or structure sounds clumsy. eg. He picked up the book and began to read. He wasn't sure he liked it. He would have preferred a more exciting tale. (Forgive the clunky prose, it's late and my imagination is fried). An elegant variation would be: He picked up the book and began to read. Would he like it? A more exciting tale might be better. Mix up the syntax, create subordinate clauses, invert sentences, etc.
In another elegant variation, I try to mix up long and short words. Some combinations create pleasing rhythms and others land like a thud. I have often resorted to the thesaurus in search of a one-syllable word to replace the existing two-syllable one, because there were already a couple of two or three-syllable words.
There are times, however, when repetition can pack a powerful punch. It makes the message stand out. Alliteration is one example. So is parallel construction – using the same word, phrase, or sentence structure in a series of sentences. Dickens' famous "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times", etc. is a memorable example of this technique. Once again, reading the section aloud is useful in determining whether the effect is powerful, clunky, or just plain silly. Here as always, a little repetition goes a long way.
So I return to my rewrites, trying to keep all these ideas in my mind at once, and sure that I will miss some clunker.s When that happens, I can only hope the copyeditor is there to make the catch.
Labels:
elegant variation,
language,
micro-editing,
word use,
writing style
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