Writer-friends, I’ve been ruminating on the nature of excellent prose. I do this because, well, I’m me, and I’m an insanely picky reader. Not that stolid prose will utterly scuttle a story for me, just that it’s far easier for me to lose myself in a narrative if the writer’s prose is rock-solid and occasionally startlingly lovely.
I’m thinking about this because a friend recently passed on Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses to me, and boy howdy, does that man know how to write! No joke, he puts you on notice with the very first sentences, which I’ll share here so you can get the full effect.
The candleflame and the image of the candleflame caught in the pierglass twisted and righted when he entered the hall and again when he shut the door. He took off his hat and came slowly forward. The floorboards creaked under his boots. In his black suit he stood in the dark glass where the lilies leaned so palely from their waisted cutglass vase. Along the cold hallway behind him hung the portraits of forebears only dimly known to him all framed in glass and dimly lit above the narrow wainscotting. He looked down at the guttered candlestub. He pressed his thumbprint in the warm wax pooled on the oak veneer. Lastly he looked at the face so caved and drawn among the folds of funeral cloth, the yellowed moustache, the eyelids paper thin. That was not sleeping. That was not sleeping.
Holy hell, but that’s a tour-de-force paragraph! I’ll unpack that for you a bit. Here’s why it’s phenomenal.
Check that first sentence. Now, McCarthy could’ve said something like, “The candleflame flickered in the wind as he opened the door, stepped into the hall, and closed the door behind him.” But no, we have a single, concrete image now in our minds of a candleflame twisting in a mirror as someone enters a hall. The slight skewing of perspective makes the image immeasurably more effective.
Then look at the rest of the imagery: lilies lean palely (note the adverb [put that in your pipe and smoke it, adverb police], and the assonance of the repeated “l” sound), waisted vase (alliteration), guttered candlestub (technically not even correct, since guttered is a past tense verb, not an adjective, but we accept it nonetheless), the thumbprint in warm wax, and lastly, the caved, drawn face and the paper-thin eyelids. You see it all. It’s presented in slightly oblique language, but I think it’s because of the obliqueness that the visuals are so effective.
And don’t even get me started on the repeated last sentence. Just that simple device, a sidewise slide into the point-of-view of the main character, tells us so much. There is confusion, and loss, and sorrow, and a sense of being adrift, all encapsulated in a four-word sentence, repeated.
I think the power of this prose consists in McCarthy’s taking a view askew. He takes a series of fairly conventional images and twists them a bit, giving them a freshness and vitality. You can learn to do this too.
Because I’m self-aggrandizing like that, I’ll give you one example from my own work. In my Bad Girl Blogfest entry, I depict the shooting of the antagonist thusly:
The bullet sent chips of asphalt flying behind Hector’s head. He choked, staring at Ana with wide eyes as blood spurted from the hole in his throat.
Notice I didn’t mention the bullet entering or exiting, or brains splattering across the sidewalk. All of that’s a bit bog-standard, no? Instead, I chose the image of the bullet chipping asphalt, and a quick bleedout from a throat wound. A bit skewed, but I feel it’s more effective that way.
And you know what? I think you can do this too. It just takes some retraining of the brain to think a bit differently about what you want to convey. Instead of bitter cold, perhaps it’s an Antarctic blast. Rather than a character slipping quietly through an archway, perhaps they scuttle, cockroach-quick and cat-silent, beneath the arcing doorway. It’s all in how you look at things.
Why not give it a try? I know you have it in you.
Write on, friends.
Stellar post Simon, lots of food for thought, thanks for sharing your insights and words. Well written!
Cheers,
Ardee-ann
This is an interesting post. I've been a bit anti-McCarthy after having to read The Orchard Keeper (his first published book according to novel writing professor). But the askew element you're discussing is one good element in his writing as the paragraph you posted demonstrated. That's something I'll have to consider.
And I find that paragraph completely self-indulgent and yawn-worthy
Each to his own!
It makes me feel a bit bad that you are reading my stuff in our crit group, because I have long been a lover of minimal, straightforward prose. I can see why so many like Cormac, but he doesn't really appeal to me. I know that many do find my prose turgid and boring; sorry, it's the type of prose that I prefer.
Oh, I should add that I do still read such work (I just finished The Road last month), and I am trying to find spots within my work to add a little something. I just find it hard to do since it doesn't come naturally.
Ardee: Thank you, good lady. And cheers back!
Dawn: I'm not a RABID McCarthy fan, but I *am* appreciating his work at the moment. Although…
Merrilee: …you might want to stay tuned in a couple weeks for my post on what's *not* so great about McCarthy's writing.
Ted: See, funnily enough, most of McCarthy's prose IS minimalist, which I'm sure you've seen. It's just he rises out of the spareness occasionally to throw down some masterful imagery (and yes, the occasional self-indulgent tear). As Merrilee said, to each their own. There is no right way in writing.
I like McCarthy's paragraph. It gives me pictures of the mind in contrast to voices.
I like your paragraph too.
Teresa
McCarthy is one of my favorites, and if you haven't already done so, read “Cities of the Plain”. Thank you for posting that beautiful opening passage. We should all strive to write thus, imho
Okay, so I'm a *little* with Merrilee on this. It does feel a bit self-indulgent. I like repetition. I think it can be very effective. But what a long, drawn-out look at the same thing, yeah? But there is a lot to learn from this, like you've pointed out. I just think maybe all of those techniques in one paragraph is a bit much. Like, “Look at me and how awesome I am. Yeah, baby. I can WRITE!” I want to say, “Dear Cormac, sometimes simple is better. Your mega talent is making me sleepy. Later Gator.”
BUT, I'm a little biased. Because THE ROAD pissed me off and freaked me out.
Well, don't I feel lame as a writer now. Guess it's time to up the ante.
Insanely picky readers make good writers strive for great. The world needs more of 'em, IMO.
This type of writing comes naturally to me in times of extreme emotion in my WIP. It's strange, like an author living within takes full possession and writes it for me. It doesn't happen all the time. But when it does, it's like magic.
See, now I felt McCarthy's was too dense–like frosting stuck to the roof of your mouth so it makes pain shoot through your head from the sweetness. I can read a bit of it and appreciate the beauty of it, but moments like that need to be sprinkled lightly or I just get bogged in the language.
YOURS on the other hand, I love the details you've chosen–it makes it more vivid. My real problem with his isn't what was chosen, so much as too much in a row.
I love beautiful writing, but perhaps like beautiful PEOPLE, I look at beauty more as 'where are the flaws?'–THAT is what I find beautiful. (the book thief, for instance). Though MY favorite example of beautiful writing is 'The God of Small Things' (don't tell Rayna–she hates the book as a poor example of India), but i LOVE the language use.
Very nicely done, good sir. I do love your explicatory (is that a word?) posts.
Oh, and to be obnoxious, I believe “guttered” is a past participle, which is correctly used as a noun modifier.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Participle
-Hermione Blackburne
Although, like others, I think there might be a bit too much in McCarthy's paragraph, what is there is unique in style–startling almost in how different it is to anything others have written, and makes the reader think. That's always good. You made me think too Simon.
Teresa: The mental images *are* very concrete, aren't they? And thanks!
Yvonne: I shall be sure to put that on the TBR list, good lady. And, as some other folk noted, this style isn't for *everyone*, but I think there's still something to be learned from it, no?
Carol: I do believe you have a point. I feel, though, that McCarthy felt it important to lay down the epic prose at the beginning, because most of the time he writes so sparely. I think he *was* saying, “Yeah, baby, I can WRITE!” I'm cool with that.
Alex: Ach…not everyone's called to write that way, good sir. But it's *always* good to try and up the ante.
TTH13: That's not a bad thought, there!
Tina: So cool, m'dear! I love when the magic happens. Love it. Glad it happens for you sometimes!
Hart: Well, I'll be posting in a couple weeks about exactly that. Sometimes McCarthy *does* get carried away with his literariness. I didn't get that in this graf, but certainly in others. And that's an interesting theory of attractiveness, darlin'!
Livia: Y'know, I never was all that good at grammar. I figure, who needs to know what to call everything as long as you write well? ;P
Liza: And that, good lady, is precisely my point. It's memorable because it's different, just a bit skewed. I love that technique!
I always love your advice on writing and take it to heart. I try to put it in practice, but I worry I don't quite succeed. Wish I had a crit group to work with here. I have tried to get interest in one here but it's hard when there are NO writers around here.
Thanks for your brilliant posts!
Simon I love that you bring this up. I completely agree that CORMAC IS THE MAN. His prose is unequaled in its poetic and lyrical quality, which are beyond measure. And I agree that as a grown up, with some education, it is the writing over the story that draws me in, at least at first. But I think this is an age old question, as in which is more important. It is rare that a writer display 10/10 in both categories.
For example Tolkien, perhaps the greatest storyteller of all time, was a greater writer in his grasp of prose, but his pacing and sometimes characterization could be quite lacking. Cormac sometimes has the same problem. The Road for example may be the greatest novel of our age when it comes to the the pure beauty of the writing, but the characters are thin and there is not much plot.
Like much great art it could be that it is just above such things.
Amie: Have you considered an online crit group, or forum for writers where mutual feedback is standard? I was on Zoetrope for a while, and there are some very solid writers there.
Also, thank you, and you're welcome, good lady.
Matt: I don't think art is *ever* above criticism. Just it should be intelligent criticism, and not, “ZOMG Jackson Pollock is teh suxor my 3yo could make better splatters!”
But to me, whether the prose is elegant and lovely or straight ahead and serviceable, it has to read effortlessly. The best writers rarely make me step back and say, “Huh. I wouldn't've said that that way.” With them, I just read.