Athalia
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2010
- Posts
- 1,211
I just read a wonderful part of Mark Twain's recently published "uncensored" autobiography, published for the first time in 2010. It's in volume one (the third volume is yet to be published).
Twain is asked to write an introduction to a biography of Joan of Arc, and does so. The introduction is returned to him, with a multitude of corrections as to usage and syntax. This edited version, complete with redactions, is included in the autobiography. But what makes this of interest to us is that Twain wrote back to the editor, explaining at length why he wrote what he did, and excoriating the editor for his use of grandiose words where plain words would do. Twain assures us that he was writing from the noblest motivations, to admonish the editor to better himself, but he makes little effort to disguise his contempt for the fellow, and for the stilted form of the language that was prevalent in the nineteenth century. One gets the feeling that trying to groom the lion's mane can be a very dangerous proposition if you don't have the lion's cooperation. And Twain could be a lion.
As a professional editor, I thoroughly enjoyed the piece, and I think that other editors could stand to learn something from it, too. The lesson, of course, is that if your client is as enormously talented as Mark Twain, the wisest course is to stay out of his way and let the man do what he does best.
Twain is asked to write an introduction to a biography of Joan of Arc, and does so. The introduction is returned to him, with a multitude of corrections as to usage and syntax. This edited version, complete with redactions, is included in the autobiography. But what makes this of interest to us is that Twain wrote back to the editor, explaining at length why he wrote what he did, and excoriating the editor for his use of grandiose words where plain words would do. Twain assures us that he was writing from the noblest motivations, to admonish the editor to better himself, but he makes little effort to disguise his contempt for the fellow, and for the stilted form of the language that was prevalent in the nineteenth century. One gets the feeling that trying to groom the lion's mane can be a very dangerous proposition if you don't have the lion's cooperation. And Twain could be a lion.
As a professional editor, I thoroughly enjoyed the piece, and I think that other editors could stand to learn something from it, too. The lesson, of course, is that if your client is as enormously talented as Mark Twain, the wisest course is to stay out of his way and let the man do what he does best.
