"Even to a writer who is being intentionally obscure or wild of tongue we can say, 'Be obscure clearly! Be wild of tongue in a way we can understand!'"
-- Strunk & White, "The Elements of Style" (musical adaptation by Nico Muhly)
I love it when artists known for their work in one medium show a passionate investment in another. Over the weekend I stumbled upon composer Nico Muhly's blog. This is the guy who studied with John Corigliano and Christopher Rouse, made two albums of his own music (Speaks Volumes and Mothertongue), and has collaborated with Philip Glass, Björk, Antony and the Johnsons, Bonnie "Prince" Billy (aka Will Oldham, of "Old Joy" and "Wendy and Lucy") and Grizzly Bear, among others. And he's the composer of the scores for "Choking Man," "Joshua" and "The Reader." (The middle one is actually a pretty good movie.)
Muhly graduated (er, "was graduated") from Columbia in 2003 with a degree in English Lit (my major, too!) and wrote a cantata adapted from Strunk & White's "The Elements of Style," so he clearly has an interest in English prose. This summer he was reading a book I'm curious about, Dave Cullen's "Columbine," and while he found the subject and the reporting revealing, the writing style really started to bug him. Here, Muhly begins by quoting Cullen (in italics):
There is a house, outside of Laramie. It's a rugged Wyoming town on the fringes of the Rockies. That's where Dave and Linda Sanders were going to retire.Maybe it's just me, but I find sentences like that -- especially when clustered together over many, many pages - physically difficult to read. It feels like riding in a car with somebody who doesn't know how to drive a stick shift: jerky, lurchy, non-continuous. I'm not saying everybody has to be Henry James, but there's something very unnerving about short sentences. [...]
When I read that shit, my mind went into overdrive. First question. Why is there a comma there? Second: Dave and Linda Sanders had been planning on retiring to Laramie, a rugged Wyoming town on the fringes of the Rockies. That is what he is trying to say in this sentence. So how come the 'house' is set aside? What else would be outside of Laramie? Oh, I remember the last time I heard about anything being outside of Laramie: how about Matthew Shepard's body, lashed to a pole in the middle of the night? Certainly that's as loaded a word as "Columbine" is - the same linguistic loading that the students constantly resist in Cullen's book. Does it strike anybody else as odd that this fact would go unsung in this narrative?
I haven't yet read Cullen's "Columbine," but that's not the point. The point is that I'm thrilled to see somebody actually talking about the meaning of grammar and punctuation, the shape of sentences, the choices behind them and what they reveal or express. That's right: Style is content. Every character you type matters enormously, and the patterns you create with them are your style. As I keep saying about movie direction, every frame represents a plethora of decisions, and what the director chooses to do as each one goes by (24 times per second) is the manifestation of the filmmaker's sensibility. It is the movie.
As you may know, I am a big fan of run-on sentences, stuffed with parenthetical interjections, commas, lists, tangents, associations, qualifiers and digressions. Not that I can help it -- that's just the way things come out. (When I was a teenager, reading Joseph Heller was like finding the only other person I knew who spoke my language.) While Cullin's truncated sentences may have reminded Muhly of something out of the Bad Hemingway Competition, it makes me think of the choppy editing and sloppy compositions so popular in American movies right now, Hollywood and "indie." I find myself thinking, "Why is the camera there?" or "Why is that cut there?" all the time. The spastic, staccato editing rhythms are more than just annoying to me, they're as dull as listening to a jackhammer. (One of the great pleasures of watching "Inglourious Basterds" is that Quentin Tarantino knows exactly how to frame his shots and when to cut. Glenn Kenny counts only 16 major scenes in the movie -- and I'd love to know the average shot length, which has to be well above average.)
So, I don't have any big point to make here -- just a salute to Nico Muhly for bothering to notice and remark upont... the elements of style.
There is little point in discussing the merits of short sentences, except to say that when it's done well, there is nothing quite like it.
James Ellroy, a freakishly talented writer, has become a master at it, though to say his style can be reduced to mere short sentences does him no justice.
The most explicit example is the ultra-hard-boiled "The Cold Six Thousand", the second novel in his Underworld USA trilogy (part three is coming out in a few weeks, yay!). If you have not read Ellroy before, this may not be the easiest introduction to him, and there are many who have declared the book virtually unreadable. Prose aside, the sheer brutality of the narrative can be at times overwhelming. As for me, it remains a singular reading experience. Even if there are those who have not been won over by the style, they can surely appreciate that there is someone out there trying new things.
Long live Ellroy.
JE: Well said. (See?) You've got Hemingway (or, maybe, Ellroy) at one end and Henry James (or, maybe, Cormac McCarthy) at the other. It's all in how you craft the sentences -- or the shots.
If you've got Hemingway at one end and Cormac McCarthy at the other, Jim, you don't have a line, you have a circle. Or you haven't read "No Country for Old Men" yet, a masterpiece of minimalist writing.
JE: Yes, I have. (See "No Country For Old Men" category in right column.) I was specifically thinking "Blood Meridian" and the length and intricacy of the sentences. Or the final paragraph of "The Road," which I think is one of the finest in all of American literature.
I haven't read Cullen's "Columbine" either, but that fragment immediately made me think of modern sports-writers in "serious," award-friendly, writing mode.
Otherwise very strong writers frequently - it seems to me - adopt this kind of writing style when they're dealing with a strong human-interest sports story. I can literally imagine what comes next if the same fragment had been lifted from a sports article/book: a stray line drive that ended a career, or a terrible car wreck, or an inspirational young player who changed the course of their lives.
It's a style that calls attention to itself so much that I can help thinking it's a bit like the literary equivalent of an actor - who may otherwise be capable of considerable nuance - lapping up awards attention for playing a character with a disability or unusual physical attribute.
I do think the the style works far better in fiction than non-fiction contexts; I did find Ellroy quite hard to take initially until I realized that the pounding rhythm was critical to his whole project in dealing with an often very violent milieu.
"Cramped in all kinds of dim cupboards and hutches at Tellson's, the oldest of men carried on the business gravely. When they took a young man into Tellson's London house, they hid him somewhere till he was old. They kept him in a dark place, like a cheese, until he had the full Tellson flavour and blue-mould upon him. Then only was he permitted to be seen, spectacularly poring over large books, and casting his breeches and gaiters into the general weight of the establishment."
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
Ah, style.
One way to pickup style is by reading the sentences aloud. It should flow and course through punctuations, grammar, sentence length and structure, word choice, and other filigree. Imagine a man in front of an audience speaking the written words. Would it be boring to listen? If so, then scrap it.
As a stay-at-home dad with a 2-year-old that kind of prose looks familiar to me: it's the standard style in books for toddlers. It seems like it's used in novels to convey a simple, rural, or elderly point of view, which occasionally rings false. Like any style, however, it can be effective in the right hands.
Muhly's "Mothertongue" is a wonderful record by the way. The funny thing about this blog entry is that the album sounds to my ears like it was stitched together from fragments of musical phrases. But I don't know quite how to describe it, and I'm not sure Muhly would agree.
Short, punchy sentences -- when done right -- can be a memorable part of a book. Jeanette Winterson is one of the best at it, and her The Passion is a seminal 80's postmodern work that utilizes short sentences brilliantly. I like that you make the correlation between writing and filming, and it's quite true that a lot of authors have taken postmodern stylings and used them as a crutch for their laziness -- just as filmmakers and musicians have I supposed -- and the example you give here from a book I haven't heard of is another reason why I grow weary of this kind of writing. They don't understand what you're talking about here: style is substance, or, as you say, content.
Oh, and I was an English Lit major, too! But I'm not composing music! God how I loathe these wunderkinds, hehe. You're right, though...it is nice to see someone care about what it is on the page. It makes me think about how people don't use semicolons anymore...either because they have fallen out of favor, or (and this is what I believe) people just don't know what they mean and how to use them. Sad.
JE: Prose writers, poets, filmmakers -- we're all composing music. That's the way I look at any temporal art form. I appreciate that Muhly notices that the short sentences are bugging him, and then digs in to understand why. Because (in the example he cites), a complete thought is broken down into fragments that are misleading and less clear than they would have been if they had been written as one full sentence.
Quick question for you Jim. Who would be your cinematic Hemingway (or Elroy)? Who would you say displays impeccable craft in the use of short shots? Surely, there must be someone you think pulls it off.
Love his music in Joshua(2007)
To this day, the best class I have ever taken was AP English Literature in high school. When we walked into the classroom on the first day, the phrase "FORM = CONTENT" was written on the blackboard (caps and all). It was a phrase our teacher repeated at least twice a day, every day. By the semester's end, it was principle that I discovered applied not only to literature but to movies and music as well. The artists who appeal to me the most are those who are in command of their chosen medium of expression. Scorcese, McCarthy, Welles. Masters.
Dave Cullen's book is the most memorable book I have read in the past year, and it's an impressive bit of reporting, well worth the read. But I'll agree the writing style varies in quality. The sentences you quote are poor - but Cullen achieves some very memorable descriptions of much more dramatic elements than the house outside of Laramie.
Apologies for linking but this might be the definitive takedown of the short sentence equals dramatic effect style. http://www.firejoemorgan.com/2006/08/best-ever.html
I also am a Lit Major (thought I'd throw that out there).
Although truncated sentences due interrupt the flow of written works, I would argue the other extreme, the periphrastic diction of the Victoria era, also undermines the impact of prose. Hemingway did much to bring the virtues of concision and precision to the medium. Terse sentences can create a poetic cadence akin to the mellifluous constructions of grand sentences. If handled in an inept manner, both styles can attenuate the author's intent; the true test of authorial prowess derives more from the author's talent rather than the length of his or her sentences.
That having been said, Cullen's quote totally sucks and stuff. Jim's right you all, every word counts.
Too often (perhaps) I disect the camera choices while watching a movie. Too often, in that at times it distracts me from the immersion. At times I see Director's changing the camera angle. No apparent reason. Seems to mostly be a choice made on the premise tha tif you don't change it, it gets boring. I disagree. Another common camera failure (again this is my opinion) is that it seems to need to focus on whoever is speaking. When you have 5 or 6 people speaking, it moves around quickly. I'm not watching the scene, I'm watching lips. In writing, we establish who the people are, but then we don't need to constantly say 'Carol said, "....." John replied, "........"
Sure, Cormac McCarthy's writing might be confusing at times (for those who haven't read him, he largely does not incorporate grammar. You'll never see a John excitedly replied, "..." Instead you'll just read John looked at Paul. "Think this is the time?"
"Yeah."
"Well, alright then."
Of course when this goes on for 25 or more lines it can be slightly confusing as to who is saying what, but just means you have to pay attention. This is the same with film. I don't need to see who is speaking. After I've heard their voice, that is enough. I'd rather the camera angle was set isometrically on the members of the scene so it didn't have to move at all. Changing camera angles is a distraction from the events. Its a reminder that there -is- a camera.
Bad grammar, like bad camera edits (or bad dialog), is something that removes you from the medium. The medium loses effect due to it. Unique styles of grammar (continue the analogy on your own) are perfectly fine so long as it is applied consistently. The reader can adapt his perceptions over time and it won't be a distraction, but will rather become part of what makes the art work.
Jim,
Have you watched (and reviewed) any of the films by Hungarian director, Bela Tarr? Werckmeister Harmonies? Satantango? Damnation? Now there's a director who can hold his shots--a master of the plan-sequence. Satantango is seven hours in length and has only 100 or so shots... Other than what Sokurov did in 2002 with Russian Ark, I don't think any one can beat that guy. A magnificent artist. If you haven't seen any of those films I strongly recommend them.
JE: Yes I have (not "Satantango, though!). Tarr is practically synonymous with long takes these days...
I just had the misfortune of seeing "Whiteout," a film with a shockingly bad grasp of film language, and thought about this post.
There is one scene in a beginning where one character gives another character a piece of jewelry. There is probably around 20 cuts in this scene, and probably 8-10 different angles.
Do you suppose the thinking is, "We took all that time to set up those different shots, so we're going to use every one in the movie"?
JE: Some filmmakers are quite concerned that audiences need cuts and new angles every second or two or they will get "bored." There's a fear that the actors and the dialog and the story are not enough to hold the audience's interest, so they must be distracted from the monotony of the screenplay and the dull people on the screen with visual fakeouts. Unfortunately, that's the way it works -- it distracts the audience from getting into the movie, but it does nothing to disguise or improve a lackluster screenplay, a movie-star charisma deficit, or an incoherent performance. It usually just exacerbates them. You're distracted, all right, and you become aware that there's not much to be distracted from.
I was stopped cold by the antecedent confusion (the house is a rugged Wyoming town?).
What do you think of Tarr's films? I searched your website for mention of his name --- hoping for an article on one of his films (please read that as blatant, but innocuous, prodding!) --- but didn't find much. I agree: today he is definitely the name cinephiles attach to the long shot but i think his procedures, to some extent, are far more daring (if not as dazzling) than that of his great influences (Dreyer, Tarkovsky, Jansco, and Fassbinder). Oh, and I highly recommend seeing Satantango --- c'mon it's an easy seven hour sit! If you do end up watching that film, a review from someone as knowledgeable about film as you would surely please and impress me.
JE: I've only seen "Werckmeister" (which really impressed me) and "Man From London" (which didn't so much). I'd like to see more...
On Nov. 21, 2008, the Harris and Klebold parents were sent the same letter requesting cooperation. "Your stories have yet to be fully told, and I view your help as an issue of historical significance," it said. "In 10 years, there have been no major, mainstream books on Columbine. This will be the first, and it may be the only one." The letter came not from Mr. Cullen but from Jeff Kass, whose Columbine: A True Crime Story, published by the small Ghost Road Press, preceded Columbine by a couple of weeks.
"Mr. Kass, whose tough account is made even sadder by the demise of The Rocky Mountain News in which his Columbine coverage appeared, has also delivered an intensive Columbine overview. Some of the issues he raises and information he digs up go unnoticed by Mr. Cullen." --Janet Maslin, New York Times
"A decade after the most dramatic school massacre in American history, Jeff Kass applies his considerable reporting talents to exploring the mystery of how two teens could have planned and carried out such gruesome acts without their own family and best friends knowing about it. Actually, there were important clues, but they were missed or downgraded both by those who knew the boys best and by public officials who came in contact with them. An engrossing and cautionary tale for everyone who cares about how to prevent kids from going bad." -----Ted Gest, President, Criminal Justice Journalists
JE: There's a fear that the actors and the dialog and the story are not enough to hold the audience's interest, so they must be distracted from the monotony of the screenplay and the dull people on the screen with visual fakeouts.
I sense a strong thematic connection to your recent post, "Teaching the controversy: Why won't he deny raping and killing?" Is the art of communication really tanking in the modern world or has it always been like this? Communication created to distract, making perceptions of reality confused and weighed down with useless noise. Perhaps I'm being naive to believe that so much of it is actually designed this way by choice rather than simply being a sloppiness constructed from a lack of skill.
One of the greatest prose stylists of our times is Chuck Palahniuk. His short sharp sentences are little bullets. Some of his themes are recurring, but the pleasure in his book come from the style. The little way in which he alters the standard framing.
Say for instance Survivor where an important sentence reads – I’m going to keep saying it, but it’s true. I’m not a murderer.
I think this little sentence captures every little detail that is there to Tender Branson’s (the protagonist) state of mind. And it says so much about the way we lie to ourselves. As you say Jim, true style is all about content.
Call this a digression, but didn't you praise "The Bourne Supremacy" in your 5/19/08 blog? That is one movie that has a major excess of shots.
Call this a second digression, but I think this needs to be said. I agree with you fundamentally about the need for purposefulness and continuity in shots and shot progressions. I would be reluctant, however, to suggest a Strunk & White manual for film, because I'm afraid that enforcing deliberateness in a film's visual style might suck the life out of it. In "Inglourious Basterds," for instance, I noticed the infamous camera-circling around-the-characters shot more than I did during "The Dark Knight." (The only specific scene that comes to mind right now is the one at the tavern) I didn't have a problem with it, and it didn't distract from the film-going experience for me. And there was no real reason, per se, why the shots had to be framed that way, but it seemed to work.
JE: I wrote about (and used frame-grabs from) "Bourne Supremacy" here: http://bit.ly/3MsHsa . You're right: I've never suggested that all filmmakers should be held to some strict style manual. That would be silly indeed. But before you go breaking the rules of grammar it helps to know them in the first place. And the techniques themselves are not necessarily bad; it depends on the film, and if the filmmaker knows how to use them. The hyper-360+ shot is indeed used once in "Inglourious Basterds" -- at the "Nation's Pride" premiere, when Landa starts laughing at Bridget's story about how she hurt her foot. I'm tired of this overused device, but I think it can be justified in the dramatic context of the scene, since it conveys Bridget's disorientation, dizziness, panic and fear that she has been found out.
I find prose most readable when it's a mix of long sentences and short ones. The short sentences comprise a sort of rhythmic punctuation.
I do tend to write some impossibly run-on sentences in my first drafts; the prose IMO becomes clearer when I break up such sentences at judicious points. E.g., if a sane grammarian sees four sentences in one of my run-ons, I'll break it 2-2 or maybe 1-2-1 if I'm feeling conservative.
You're an excellent writer, and I think that all good writers pay conscious attention to the rhythm of their prose.