On short and long sentences.

[snooper]

I do not know how well know Alistair Cooke was in the USA, nor how many Americans are aware that he died last week at the ripe old age of 95. On the two hundredth anniversary of the United States Congress in 1974 he became only the third person born outside the United States ever invited to address the House of Representatives, the others being Churchill and Lafayette. A journalist, he was best known in the UK for his fifteen minute radio talks under the title Letter From America which ran weekly from March 31st, 1946 until February 20th this year.

One of the plethora of tributes paid to him since his death was one by Sam Leith in the Daily Telegraph which ran:
He may have been mannered and even, like the rest of us, a little silly. But rereading the texts of his broadcasts reminds you that Alistair Cooke was a terrific prose writer. Everyone went on about his radio voice, but it’s his prose rhythm that mattered. Those endless parentheses, unspooling from comma to comma, gave his digressive, long sentences a wonderful feeling of leisure and control. Honourable pause. The last master of the subordinate clause.

Many American writers have read Strunk & White. Many follow the Chicago Manual of Style. Many listen to MSWord™ grammar checker. Their writing has an immediacy. It tells us plainly what’s what. It reads like a newspaper article. Those books were written for journalists. They explain how to catch the attention of a ten year old.

In my humble opinion, those who seek to add their own thread to the great tapestry of human literature, especially in the field of erotica, would do well to study the style of Alistair Cooke, if only to allow what some call the legion of left-handed mouse users time to catch their collective breath between strokes.

 

[thenry]

I believe your final sentence deftly illustrates the efficacy of such techniques, if only to toot your own horn (and I'm sorry if that is not enough of a double entendre to compete.) I would also point to Truman Capote, a passed master of long sentences and unspooling commas, who was openly, among other things, an American journalist raised in New Orleans.

 

[Madame Manga]

Since I watched Masterpiece Theatre in the 1970s, I am very familiar with Alistair Cooke. His American-eroded British accent reminded me very much of my grandfather's, so I always regarded him with affection. His obituary ran in the Economist; I am not sure I saw it anywhere else. I think my favorite memory of him is a very short appearance on Sesame Street during a Cookie Monster sketch. It was filmed on the set he used for his Masterpiece Theatre introductions.

"Hello, I'm Alistair Cookie."

My personal champion of the elegant compound-complex English sentence is more venerable even than the long-lived Mr. Cooke, however--she appears in my sig.

MM

 

[Guest]

Thanks, Snooper, I almost missed this thinking it was another rehash of how to write for Lit. (e.g., use short sentences and simple words is the gist of a majority opinion I dislike). Anyway, I too appreciate the complexity of English enough to want to read it at its best. "The last master of the subordinate clause" is a great tribute.

Perdita

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

"The last master of the subordinate clause" is a great tribute.

I agree with Perdita about that phrase. However, at the risk of raining on this long sentence lovers parade, let me remind snooper and the rest of you that Cooke wrote the text in question - to be read out loud.

There is nothing wrong with long sentences, especially if created by a talented writer. (Many long years ago, I read an article in Newsweek by George Will which had a sentence that, to the best of my memory, contained about 75 words and was grammatically correct and would have, in my opinion, been perfect in every way except for the regrettable fact that its extraordinary length distracted me from the subject of his column.) Granted, long sentences can slow the pace, but at times that can be desirable. However, they are harder to do well than are short sentences. As a result, writers lacking the required talent tend to produce long sentences that are at best, complex, and at worst, convoluted and confusing.

Rumple Foreskin

 

[NoJo]

Yes. What RF said.

 

[snooper]

... "Hello, I'm Alistair Cookie." ...

The great man claimed that the inspiration for this was a US Immigration Service officer who queried his name, and on being told that it was "Cooke" said, "Well in this passport is says Cookie, not Cook."

 

[snooper]

... let me remind snooper and the rest of you that Cooke wrote the text in question - to be read out loud. ...

Yes. Do you not write for the same purpose?

I add another tribute, from an anonymous news reporter in the UK:
His mastery of the English language enabled him sometimes to echo Lincoln, but he knew the difference between writing an essay and devising a colloquial broadcast, and that is partly why he was so successful.
... He lived at a time when many became more careless in their use of the English language, the art of public speaking declined and illiteracy flourished. We needed a beacon, a reminder of what the power of our beautiful language can do. That is why Alistair Cooke will be remembered.

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Yes. Do you not write for the same purpose?

snooper,

The purpose is the same, clear communication. The method is very different. At the time of Cooke's death, most of the major news outlets here in the States did pieces on him. In one of them, he discussed how his "talks," which sounded so natural, involved a lot of creative sweat and special techniques.

Speech writing is a special sub-category of writing. In Cooke's case, he did a brilliant job of writing "speeches" that sounded like informal conversation. Any author who's struggled with dialogue can appreciate his skill.

Rumple Foreskin

 

[oggbashan]

Posted before but...

How NOT to do it...

The roseate Sun, Phoebus’ orb, was glinting in the puddles and dappling the fallen leaves of the ancient forest as Joan made her way along the footpath leading from her rustic rose-entwined cottage, so beloved of tourists and her infrequent visitors from the city who left as soon as they reasonably could because the cottage lacked the basic amenities than any twenty-first century city dweller expected as of right such as satellite television and even running hot and cold water, both of which were unavailable, towards the steeple crowned hill on which the Parish Church sat as it had done for more than a thousand years surveying the expanding and contracting village in the valley beneath and perhaps regretting the earlier centuries when it had been filled to capacity by local residents each in their proper place and order according to the standards of the time, but Joan diverted from the direct route to the Church at a junction and was now heading in the direction of the Evening Star, the planet Venus known as Aphrodite to the Greeks but whether Greek or Roman was the personification of sexual desire, which sexual desire Joan was expecting to assuage once she reached her destination but in the meantime she was diverted by the interplay of light and shade from the evening sun as it sank lower on the horizon turning the landscape to a darkening ruddy hue which darkened further as she walked wondering whether she would reach her destination and assignation before Phoebus’ chariot had passed beyond her view but even if she did not her path was clear because she was accustomed to walking in the direction of the Evening Star every evening that she had free from her avocation of breeder of large and hairy dogs that bore a faint resemblance to The Hound of The Baskervilles and at times she would take one of the so-called breed with her on her perambulation which would certainly deter any evil minded loiterers upon her way but unfortunately also frequently prevented the consummation of her assignation by refusing to leave her side and repulsing her intended with ferocious barking and frenzied attacks barely held in check by the strong leash essential for such savage dogs but this time she was without a canine companion and therefore she hoped that the consummation would be forthcoming without let or hindrance as she continued to walk alongside the nearly dark woodlands before emerging on a slight eminence whence she could see her goal of another rose-entwined cottage from the chimney of which a wisp of smoke was arising promising warmth in both the physical, mental and sexual encounter which Joan would shortly enjoy.

"He's lit my fire" she said to herself.

PS. Ignoring the last short sentence which I couldn't resist:

Words 450
Sentences 1
Reading Ease 0
Grade Level 12.0

Alastair Cooke could have read that out loud and made the listeners understand it. He'd never have written it.

Og

 

[NoJo]

(edited, decided to pm)

 

[snooper]

In Cooke's case, he did a brilliant job of writing "speeches" that sounded like informal conversation.

Cautious disagreement.
I have read the texts of a number of his talks and they read perfectly well as short essays (c.1700 words). The reason for my caution is that I am not certain that the printed texts are actually verbatim.

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Cautious disagreement.
I have read the texts of a number of his talks and they read perfectly well as short essays (c.1700 words). The reason for my caution is that I am not certain that the printed texts are actually verbatim.

snooper

You called that shot. His originals were a hodge-podge of dashes, slashes, and ellipses that he includedonly for his use during broadcasts.

Speeches usually transfer well into a printed format designed to be read silently. Lincoln's Gettysburg address reads as well that way as it does when spoken. However, the opposite isn't always the case. This is just a hunch, but I bet the average New York Times editorial or college textbook would not be well-received if read aloud. Come to think of it, how many of those arewell-received when read silently?

The bottom line is that just as written narrative and dialogue have different requirements, so does text intended for a speech as opposed to that inteded for silent, solo reading.

Rumple Foreskin

 

[Guest]

The bottom line is that just as written narrative and dialogue have different requirements, so does text intended for a speech as opposed to that inteded for silent, solo reading.

There is no bottom line for me, not when it comes to good writing. Shakespeare wrote his texts to be performed, not even to be printed, yet he is probably read more than heard.

Nothing personal, Rumps, but I hate this taking of stances on long/short sentences, adverbs or none, speech or essay, etc. Good writing is good writing, bad writing is a bore, and nitpicking about it is even more boring.

Perdita

 

[rgraham666]

All styles are good… except the boring.

Voltaire

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Nothing personal, Rumps, but I hate this taking of stances on long/short sentences, adverbs or none, speech or essay, etc. Good writing is good writing, bad writing is a bore, and nitpicking about it is even more boring.

Perdita

Perdita,

Please ignore any baseless rumors that due to certain anatomical realities, I have a sympathy for short verses long.

This type of discussion can get boring. It's the literary equivalent to an "inside baseball" conversation. But if you're going to play baseball or try to write marketable fiction, it helps to know about some fo these things.

rgraham, I paraphrase Voltaire with my, one unbreakable rule for writing successful commercial fiction, "Thou shalt not bore thy reader."

Rumple Foreskin

 

[Guest]

Rumply: . I so appreciate a gentleman. P.

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Rumply: . I so appreciate a gentleman. P.

No smilies for blushing, either modestly or otherwise. So this will have to do. Oh, yes, and just for you,

Rumpled, rolled up and put away wet, Foreskin