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October 6, 2008

Glass

Writing about writing always makes me feel like a pretentious self-important idiot, because really: one story published, a column, a handful of essays accepted for anthologies and a month in a writing programme do not make me any kind of expert on literary craft. So on what basis should my own opinions be privileged? None at all. Unless you count the several thousand books I've read, including a few dozen on writing, which might not have made me an expert but has certainly given me a number of very strong opinions.

Good writing is a clear glass window. It's invisible.

Writing that is decorative or flowery achieves this only when the flourishes serve the subject matter of the piece. For example: if you are writing for a highly-educated audience that likes to congratulate itself on being superior to the hoi poloi, you may very well be more successful if you use the fancy-pants $10 words and allusions to Shakespeare and Milton if only because, subconsciously, the audience's egos will be fluffed and they'll be more receptive to your ideas. But fancy-pants $10 words and allusions to Shakespeare aren't going to make you a more effective communicator with most audiences, who will only feel excluded and talked-down-to.

I'll choose as an example a blogger I'm 99.999% sure doesn't read me, and I won't name him anyway. But he's a well-known daddyblogger with a large following and a nutty pseudonym, and his blog title references female anatomy, and now I think I've been sufficiently unclear that he'll never google this but clear enough that anyone who reads him will know exactly who I'm talking about. (But this sentence is a pretty good example of bad writing: "references female anatomy" is, in this case, necessary precisely because it's unclear; in most contexts I'd be better off just spitting it out.) I read one post of his; in it, a mean man yelled at his son, and his son "shattered."

It was very, very pretty, the description of the blogger going out to "sweep" the shards of his son into a dustpan and take him home to glue him back together again. But as writing it sucked, because after reading it you have no fucking clue what happened. Seriously. Did his son cry, fall down, have a seizure, yell, slump his shoulders, shake? Did the father go out and give him a hug, a slap on the shoulder, a pat on the head, a kleenex? Does he glue his son back together by taking him out for ice cream, watching a movie curled up on the couch, leaving him alone in his room with a book, play-wrestling in the backyard, snorting cocaine? Can you picture it? Of course not, because he doesn't describe it.

After you've read it, you have no idea what happened except that a mean man said something awful to a little boy, who didn't like it, and so his dad took him home to make him feel better. You haven't learned anything about the people involved, as you might have if you knew that the boy "shatters" when he cries or throws up or shakes a middle finger at the mean man or that he is comforted when his dad bakes him chocolate chip cookies or when they flip through a few porn mags together.

I think of this kind of writing as being a stained-glass window. You can't see through it at all. Everything on the other side--the ideas or events or theories or personalities that are supposed to be the subject of the writing--is completely obscured. You have no idea what happened or what the writer is going on about. But it doesn't matter because the point of such writing isn't to communicate anything, it's to create a functionless piece of writing that is pretty as an object and can be discussed as a pretty object.

Perfect writing is a window so clear that you can't see it at all. It doesn't draw any attention to itself whatsoever. All you can see when you look at it are the ideas, people, events on the other side. It facilitates understanding, which is after all the point of communication. If there are metaphors, similes, allusions, fancy-pants $10 words, fifty-word sentences or academic theories in it, it's because they make the meaning of the writing clearer--because they are necessary--not because they serve the writer's ego.

Good writing is when the writer's ego gets out of the way so that the audience has a clear view of the subject of the writing. Unnecessary decorative frills are like the writer jumping out on stage to say, "Look at me being poetic! Look at me being smarter than you! Look at me being well-educated! Look at me being In The Know!" At which point the audience has no choice but to look at the writer because they can no longer see the performance; there's a writer in the way. In practice of course this is unavoidable some of the time, if only because we human beings tend to be very attached to our egos and we can't always see our own motivations clearly. But I do think that a writer who is trying to write in order to communicate is going to do this less often than a writer whose goal is to impress an audience with how fabulous or wonderful or clever or poetic they are.

Unfortunately (in my view anyway) the internet encourages ego-driven frippery-laden bad writing. There are no gatekeepers--no editors, no publishers, no fact-checkers--so there's no one to gently suggest to a writer that a certain passage is unnecessary or that they are talking down to their audience. The writer clicks "publish" and whatever flaws their own personality brings to the piece get carried into the final version (my own included) and, as much as the democratizing influence of self-publishing is wonderful, I do think this facet of it is kind of awful.

When it comes to my own writing I would much rather be able to communicate a complicated idea clearly than construct a beautifully-written object whose subject is so obscured behind pretty words and metaphors that no one has a bloody clue what I'm talking about. Pretty words and metaphors have their place, of course--serving the subject of the piece. And I think you'll find, if you go back over your own favourite print books and stories and articles, that those authors too got themselves out of the way of the writing most of the time; and when flowery, academic or symbol-laden language was used, it was used to a good purpose.

I'm willing to be convinced otherwise, though. What do you think? Is there a point to the fancy stuff? Does it serve a purpose on its own?


Posted by Andrea at October 6, 2008 7:34 AM under Wordsmithery

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Interesting - I haven't commented a lot lately, though I've been reading, but I lingered over this post and went back to read the one referenced, and since I have the time this morning, I'll chime in...

I think (in my own under-read, completely uneducated way) that the answer to all questions asked above can be simply responded to with the only phrase I remember from high-school Latin, which translated by one interpretation to "You can't argue matters of personal taste." For example, in art: Some like Realism, some like Cubism. I like both, and more - Impressionism, Surrealism, Photography, Sculpture, Film...and I think writing is like that. But to argue the purpose of writing without simplicity, clarity and transparency and not using only what needs to be done to support the subject? It shouldn't be diminished because factual details were lacking.

I do know what happened to the son, and the father after reading it - they did whatever their family did and it was probably not pretty and everyone went home tired - and I like that I'm not privy to the details; and because of that I felt a reaction to the story emotionally rather than intellectually and judgmentally. I don't need to know more than what was told in rather few words for such a uniquely complex yet universal situation, because the impression of the power of love and everyone's helplessness in the course of the events was evident in my imagination. I don't think I would have been struck by a newspaper-style reporting of the event quite as much. And, that post resonated with me, and it's an example of what I find most satisfying and engaging about that writer's posts. I don't need to hear what happened - that's dull. I like to hear how one person coloured.

The point to the fancy stuff is that it's as enjoyable as wearing soft, stylish, coloured clothing instead of a thick body stocking the colour of and imprinted with the details of our own flesh. Plain writing about factual events is well, boring. That creative writing links my own active, exploratory mind with another is why I read some blogs (because I'm thoroughly entertained). Of course I read others because I'm simply informed. And that I read any blog is mainly because of some perceived connection with the author and supporting characters - though in some cases it's actual.

For example, once someone wrote this about a dessert at her cottage weekend:

"Julia made a delectable Blueberry pie, entirely from scratch, and as a pie-baker myself, I will tell you that this pie made my pies look like Phyllis Diller to her Candace Bergen. If you thought you heard angels singing and a beam of light in the area of Lake Huron, you did. It was as if a trio of fairy godmothers came down and wished for her pie to have a flaky sweet crust, that the blueberries should have the perfect combination of sweetness and spice, and that the whole thing would hold its shape and look beautiful, served with French Vanilla ice cream, as we had it on the small platform down by the water. Where, I must tell you, the stars twinkled just for us. One of the dippers was right there, so close I could use it to hold all of the simmering enjoyment of such a magical weekend that flooded my heart."

Or she could have said: "That night Julia baked a very nice-looking homemade blueberry pie that was delicious, and better than any I could make. We served it on the deck by the lake. The stars were bright and seemed close and I was more than happy."

Without professional editing, and both just being "blogging", and presenting the above examples with bias - I can say that one paragraph puts me there (and brings me back just reading it) and the other just talks about it. You don't need to understand every reference in the former example to understand that the author (oh - that was me!) was in the presence of bliss. Someone who merely wanted to know if I had a good time might have gotten impatient reading that - but the purpose of the florid style was to illustrate, not to report.

I think one can't call the post that you referenced "bad" writing - it's like saying abstract art is bad because it's messy and the representation of the subject matter is questionable, and that you have to understand the artist to understand the work. For example, take someone like Jackson Pollack and so let's say the artist cannot remove himself from his art, and so sometimes, neither should the writer. Think of the blog author you referenced as another specialist in using chaotic motion to convey theories that the others with more scientific minds are ten years away from. But that's why we remember the artists along with the art. Why do we call some things "a Picasso" rather than by the product's name? In this case it's just different writing - and it is just as communicative, but in an emotive way rather than a more literal way. Capitalize e e cummings, and tell him not to make up compound words like mud-luscious? Disallow Charlie Chaplin the character of the Little Tramp and insist he perform as himself?

The purpose of a stained glass window is not to allow those within a building to see the world outside, or even primarily to admit light, but rather to control it. So, stained glass writing has its purpose too. The writer has not obscured the subject or events so much as written of them in a way that is more picturesque than pictorial. I don't discount the importance of a graphic form of writing - both can be powerful. But personally, I find a colourful style of writing more memorable, and it gives me more pleasure, considering the purpose of blogs in my life. Just as I blog to fulfill the need for creativity in my life, and others enjoy it even if I use my cat to make political points sometimes -- I'm grateful for the darkest colour name of sports team religious named writer.

Posted by: Marla at October 6, 2008 9:45 AM

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I dunno. I really like both styles. David Foster Wallace's writing is hardly clear, but it's certainly good. (IMO, of course.) Have you read John Barth's Lost in the Funhouse? I think it's a great example of words as art, as opposed to words as communication. You should check it out.

Posted by: Superlagirl at October 6, 2008 10:06 AM

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This ties into a post that Mad wrote last week. Here: http://madhattermommy.blogspot.com/2008/10/simply-said.html
The comments section to this is hilarious; most commenters took it to themselves. I know I did, because I am guilty of big-word-itis, both speaking and writing. It is hard work to write crystal clear prose at a low word level; I trained in advertising, where it was mandatory to aim for specific reading levels. And I hate 'literary' novels, where the literary devices are given first place over the story.
Having said all that, though, I love to read 17th and 18th century prose -- Donne's sermons spring to mind -- just to hear the cadences. The King James Bible, too. It's like watching ice dancing or ballet.
Um, am I doing it? Gulp.

Posted by: mary g at October 6, 2008 10:17 AM

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I agree that the internet is fraught with ego-driven 'frippery' - but often, that's what the audience is looking for. For example, I like to read Wil Wheaton's blog. A self-purported Writer, he uses lots of 'in-the-know' references and Internet humor. Blatant? yes. Intentionally 'artsy'? Often. But his audience is also heavily made up of people who are amused by feeling like 'geek insiders'

Acting is a good parallel to writing, in that it's best when the actor isn't sending the message "I'm ACTING" but some people, like Jack Black, thrive on exactly that - and audiences who like that kind of performance show up.

Audience and Artist have a relationship. How universal or intimate that relationship is sets up expectations for the type of glass they'll be sharing. As internet readers we choose what we want to read, and I think most of us are aware on some level of the type of glass we want to look through. Your blog is one that is very explicit about those times when you're going for transparency (Frances Fridays) and those times (like book reviews) when we're talking about the glass.

Posted by: rian at October 6, 2008 10:21 AM

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The long and short of it for me is that I do think there is a place for it all, and I hope to experiment with all kinds of styles in time.

Posted by: Karen Sugarpants at October 6, 2008 10:38 AM

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I dislike "shattered" not because it's unclear but because it's a poor metaphor. A shattered window is utterly broken -- it can't ever be repaired. By extension, if the child were truly shattered, his remains would be put on the curb w/ the garbage and the dad would be off to Home Depot for a replacement.

I do think the right metaphor would elucidate rather than obscure; with the right metaphor, you *could* picture what happened to the child. I often hear people say a child has "dissolved," which is a reference to tears, for example...

Column? Essays in collections? More details please!

Posted by: Jennifer at October 6, 2008 11:10 AM

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Ok, so I haven't read the shattered passage and I have no idea who you're talking about but I whole-heartedly agree.

I disagree with Marla's polarization of "flowery" writing versus reportage, nothing but the facts. First off, the example with the blueberry pie is very effective. It doesn't have that same masturbatory, clichéd feeling that I think Andrea is getting at. She's not saying figurative language is bad, only that they need to do work that goes beyond the writer's ego. It needs to serve a specific purpose. Second, clear writing should never be boring. If it is, it's failed in its purpose of engaging the reader.

I've been getting paid as a lower-case corporate writer for several years, and I'm in the midst of leading a plain language campaign at my work. Plain language (aka clear writing) is NOT just about the facts. It's about knowing your audience and speaking to them. If your audience is receiving a reminder notice, they don't want to read a poem or essay. They want to know only what they need to know to get the job done. But if your audience wants to gain a sense of your experience like in blogging, you'll be more effective using concrete imagery and engaging the senses than in using abstractions. In Marla's example, she uses concrete images to demonstrate happiness, which is much more effective than merely saying "I was happy." And Marla's example also carried a lot of factual information that keeps us grounded.

Of course, not having read the shattered post, I have absolutely no idea what my opinion would be on it. But I do know I click away from a fair number of posts that use a lot of flowery, abstract language, and $10 words where 1-cent words would do.

Someone said, "Never put a polic officer in an automobile when a cop in a car would do." This is nothing new - it's what writers have been aspiring to for centuries.

Posted by: cinnamon gurl at October 6, 2008 11:30 AM

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Well, you know what I think which is fortuante b/c I have to get my daughter to an audiologist appointment in 20 mins. I may be back to comment again later. I will definitely be back to read all the comments in detail.

Posted by: Mad at October 6, 2008 11:41 AM

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This is what I attempt to teach my students about academic writing - they're aiming for glass, so that the reader's focus is on their ideas and not on the words they've chosen to express them. I've always found literary writing - of any type - to be a bit different. I have almost zero tolerance for what passes for writerly prose these days. Anytime a fiction writer starts self-consciously Playing With Language I break out in hives. But there are writers (even some of my students, actually) whose writing I enjoy not only for the ideas but also for the facility of their expression. And I find it very difficult to put my finger on exactly what differentiates the truly well-written piece from the barf-inducing Look At Me prose.

Posted by: bea at October 6, 2008 2:26 PM

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Hmmmm. I'm having a hard time getting past the idea that maybe! I'm! one of those! writers! to think about your question.

I know the blogger of whom you speak and I know the piece of which you speak and I agree on both counts. But people *love* that guy. Adore him. He's not for me, so much, but is that a function of his writing or of me? There are hugely popular books that I can't stomach and other books I think are awe-inspiring that my sister, for example, rolls her eyes at.

I like the glass analogy, and I agree that sometimes the metaphors get in the way of sense. But that's because, in my opinion, the metaphors or other figurative language or whatever the literary thing is don't work. It's not because they *are* metaphors.

I'm always envious when I read a metaphor that is just so right on, that finds the exact point on the line where two very different objects meet, and the meaning is suddenly crystal clear. I also think that sometimes those smartypants references you ..... refer to (nice) can serve a piece well, if they are used to provide a shorthand to some underlying theme or principle.

But maybe all these literary devices are like spices--a little goes a long way, and that's what we forget sometimes because it's so very fun to use them.

If you're speaking about blogging in particular, however, there is a certain masturbatory quality to much of it, partly because so many commenters are just so nice. They're not editors. Or publishers. They're sort of friends. Perhaps this is why the blog to book trajectory isn't as easy as many would hope.

Posted by: Gwen at October 6, 2008 2:46 PM

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I've read the blogger you're talking about and I go back and forth with him. Sometimes his writing is amazing (his post to his wife was lovely) and sometimes it's just weird beyond belief.

I guess it doesn't bother me that much. I'm not paying to read blogs and I do it for my own enjoyment. If a blogger's writing doesn't speak to me or just drives me nuts, I stop reading. I don't look at it as I do books - I'm paying for those (well, the library is, but whatever) and I am looking for a certain type of writing. That type obviously can't appeal to everyone, nor do I expect it to. With books, I really dislike the "Oh, look at me, I'm so clever, writing a book" type of writing (David Eggars, I'm looking at you). It leaves me cold. In a blog, it bothers me a bit, but not as much, since it is a person's blog, a part of them, even when all they are showing is a persona.

I'm not making a heck of a lot of sense here, am I? s'ok. I know what I mean (and this, obviously, is why I don't write for a living. I seem to be incapable of Getting To The Point.) I guess I give more leeway to a blog than I do to a book. (Hey, finally! A point!)

Posted by: Major Bedhead at October 6, 2008 3:32 PM

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I dont' have much time to respond right now--just got in from class and need to go pick up Frances--but I did want to say two things off the bat:

1. The point is not to take the writer out of the writing (which would be impossible; no matter how plainly you write, you will still never write identically to anyone else--and that's if I was talking about plain writing, but I'm not), but the writer's *ego* out of the writing. Your personality, soul, heart, issues, concerns, etc., all should be in the writing, and in fact you can't help it anyway. What shouldn't be in the writing is narcissism, excessive self-regard, talking-down-to, etc. Very different set of concerns.

2. Metaphors, similes, figurative writing, decorative flourishes, aren't inherently *bad.* They commonly obstruct meaning and so often are associated with poor, ego-driven writing. But they don't *necessarily* obstruct meaning; and where figurative and decorative language serves the writing, it is beautiful. For example, poetry is all about the sounds the words make together and the use of metaphor and simile in fresh and surprising ways. One can hardly picture poetry without it. But in this case, the sounds of the language, the symbols and figures, SERVE THE WRITING, not the writer's ego.

The point isn't, is this decorative? It's, is the decoration obscuring the meaning? Is the writer trying to tell me something, or just tell me how fabulous they are?

This brings me around to the subject of the sound of written language, but I'm all out of time and I'll have to come back to this later.

Posted by: Andrea Author Profile Page at October 6, 2008 3:42 PM

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I agree with you TOTALLY about the clear glass versus stained-glass kind of writing. I love writing where the writer's language is only there to serve the story, rather than drawing attention to itself. But that doesn't explain the fact that most of the literary fiction that gets the highest acclaim these days (I could name names, but like the blogger you describe, they deserve remain anonymous) is writing that does, specifically, draw attention to the writing itself. When I think that, I find myself thinking, No, maybe that's just me -- maybe so-and-so's beautiful writing really IS transparent, and I'm just too dumb to read past it and see the story.

Posted by: TrudyJ at October 6, 2008 5:44 PM

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Back again and am now replying in the context of the comments:

I love poetic diction, extended metaphors, sassy similes that stretch the imagination, apposition, and clever allusions, and I'm fairly certain you do too (what with having read you since long before clod and pebble days). I understand that this post is not a rejection of writing as craft, nor is it a rejection of style in favour of substance. It seeks more of a union of the two.

I am a sucker for style, myself. I loved Jonathan Safran Foyer's Everything is Illuminated, for example. In that novel, though, the style served a function and was grounded in the characters. What I see happening a lot in the blogosphere is style that serves only to say "Hey, look at me! I am one of the hip bloggers! Watch my writerly pyrotechnics and vernacular flair" Posts (and it's usually individual posts rather than complete blog archives) that have this ring to them usually have me clicking away partly b/c I have been reading blogs for far too long to fall for it anymore. This kind of stlye has in itself become a weary and cliched trope in this genre.

I have a few rules I try to follow with my writing even though I know I fail frequently:

--if you create an extended metaphor, make sure all the imagery surrounding it is integrated
--try not to mix metaphors if you are writing a serious post. If you are making fun of your own cottage cheese brain or of how you routinely turn the language into hash, then by all means mix, mix away.
--if you need to explain an allusion to your readers, don't use it. If your entire meaning hangs on an obscure allusion, don't use it. You should write in such a way that the readers who do get your allusions will and the other readers won't feel left out. (In other words, no Shrekian winking at the adults.)
--always make sure you have a point to a post even if that point is simply, look at this beauty.
--feel free to use complex diction if your point merits it; big words exist for a reason but that reason is not simply to bamboozle
--don't be afraid to create magic but make sure you are the one in control of it

That said, I know that I rely far too heavily on certain tropes: apposition, grammatical repetition, and the vernacular aside. They are my stock and trade. If I were more serious about my writing and saw my blog as something other than a hobby, I'd work a lot harder to add variety to my style, but I'm not and I don't so I won't.

One final point: Gwen, I LOVE your writing. Just love it. It is effortless. Please relax.

And on the topic of effective metaphor, Andrea, the line "writing is a clear glass window" sings.

Posted by: Mad at October 6, 2008 7:44 PM

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Mad, I almost used the word "trope" in my comment and then chickened out (and I was sort of joking about my own writing. I'm in a "I'm generally a piece of shit" mode right now, which colors everything else.)

Andrea, I think we agree. Yippee!! Except sometimes I'm arrogant enough to assume that if I don't like something, it's because it's not "good." How ugly is that?

Posted by: Gwen at October 7, 2008 9:13 AM

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At some level, we can blame it all on post-modernism. Post-modernism had the clever idea that style is substance--that substance does not exist outside of the context of style, for there is always a gap between the two. Early post-modernists tilted the frame a bit to make style obvious such that these ideas would come to the fore in the reader's mind. Stories like "Lost in the Fun House" used style as a way to make this point in the same way that Cubist painters used style as a way to make the point that perspective is key.

I am afraid, though, that for several decades now post-modernism has run amok. Its point has been made but now we are left with large numbers of writers who engage in style for style's sake and who often don't abide by the simple rules that govern effective style.

And don't get me started on people who use "deconstruct" as an every day kind of verb meaning to take apart.

Posted by: Mad at October 7, 2008 9:32 AM

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I think everyone's made good points. In fact I think the is disagreements are mostly a result of people using the same words to mean different things, which is why I did separate posts about terms--it was too long to put in a comment.

But this is what happens when you spend ten years thinking about something and putting together a theory in a field where everyone sort of makes up their own terms anyway and then try to write about it without being clear about what exactly you mean when you use the word "clear" or "function."

Posted by: Andrea Author Profile Page at October 7, 2008 1:19 PM

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