Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Of A Mind, Not Stentorian

I'm not sure that anyone has used that word since Stephen Crane used it to describe artillery in The Red Badge of Courage. It appears that the last time that word was in vogue, writing styles were thus: "And it came to pass that the awful thing thrust upon the lad was indeed a frightful thing, a thing beyond any mortal reproach -and yet in its vile nature there was found to be a redeeming quality".

I mean, really.

Yes, I made up that late 1800s-style sentence just to see if I could do it. It really made me reposition several verbs and adjectives. Let me tell you, you should be thankful that we don't still speak or write that way. See, the real reason people wrote with quill pens (which constantly had to be dipped into ink) wasn't because ball point pens hadn't been invented. The reason for such pens was because dipping those fancy-tipped plumes into India's finest gave the writer time enough to formulate a sentence in that rather thick evolution of Old English.

And yet, to be able to craft such sentences would be marvelous. In fact, it would be downright liberating. Such linguistic formulas as the aforementioned wouldn't merely be limp-noodle, pedestrian sentences we hastily toss together these days. No sir, Jerry. Those sentences were downright thick with quality, like a genuine Persian rug. They didn't simply say, "Something scared the poor kid". They were constructed, through cognitive processes gone the way of surreys and bowler hats, by writers who needed to spend enough time to justify penning out wondrous works of art.

They were often quiet works. It's one thing to share with the reader, "He embraced his love tenderly in his arms, protecting as though cradling the gift of Life itself". It's quite another to be exposed to the same situation from another angle: "He set upon the other suitor presently, with both fisticuffs and several vile oaths of fear that his love might prove vulnerable". There was a time, perhaps twenty-two or so decades ago, when such writing styles were viewed as formally appropriate. Real black tie kinds of sentences. Hor's deurves? (Spellcheck says this is correct. I have my doubts.) What's missing these days isn't so much such a thick writing style. (Imagine texting this stuff: "The felo set cors 4 the ile of a sted -e volishn".)

Dude.

The stories written in those days always seemed quiet somehow. Ever notice that? Even the Civil War appears in writings to have been a series of quiet battles meandering through four years of a muted hell, as expressed by prevailing writing styles of the time. Crane loved to use sentences far too long to capture succinctly the adrenaline, anger, fatigue, and total terror and horror of war. Though the quality of writing was wonderfully elegant, I sure wish the style was simpler in those days. Why not say something like, "He charged across the battlefield, terror be damned"? I'd much rather have read that than "At once the lad gathered himself, for the terrible engagement was thus thrust upon him as though delivered by the wings of eagles". Parsimony has its privileges. The writing style retains a sufficiently thick quality. It isn't reduced to some watered down approach like, "Dude kicked butt". People read and they thought.

Nowadays, stories are loud. They're in your face. Good guys have to find and diffuse bombs in major cities, rescue damsels in distress, and perform a whole host of other cliches within eighty-five minutes or so, or else we lose interest. Movies are loud. Television programs are loud. Even novels are loud. Everything now is stentorian, and let me tell you that word had a ton of dust when I found it on the shelf. Great word. It's as though it mocks us. "Keep it down, you new millennium kids. You're getting too dang stentorian again!" An admonishment from the past.

I sure would love to see a little of that grand old writing style reemerge. It takes awhile to sort through if you're not used to such formal English. (And who is anymore?) I think we could revisit it every once in awhile. Maybe we could take it out for a spin every now and then to keep it fresh.

Just sayin'.

1 comment:

  1. Forsooth! Methinks thine bile doth boil over, verily, a tempest in yon teapot. Really, who would want to use 57 words to express what 3 will adequately do?

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