Even as I descended the stairs I heard his voice, which like the rest of him was too large for those subterranean rooms, spilling out of them as if to climb back into the bright afternoon that, though it was mid-October, had nothing autumnal about it; the grapes that hung ripe from vines throughout the city burst warm still in one’s mouth.
What Belongs to You, by Garth Greenwell
When you read this sentence, do you feel like you’re walking down the stairs, making your way through the labyrinth-like structure to the subterranean rooms? And do you hear the big voice reverberating? I love this long sentence that mimics the content, (called syntactic symbolism), so you experience the stairwell not only through the content but the form.
To accomplish this, Greenwell grew his sentence by adding new information through subordinate clauses. Greenwell populates his novel with this syntactic subordinative strategy, creating long sentences that twist and turn. So here’s another way to grow sentences. (Last time we looked at growing sentences by adding modifying words and phrases, which we called adjectival).
This is the spot where we nod and bow to William Faulkner, who built his story worlds exactly this way: by nesting clauses, interrupting the linearity of the traditional syntax.
Using the subordinative strategy, both Faulkner and Greenwell bring the reader as close as possible to their character’s perceptions, complete with thoughts that interrupt other thoughts.
The Making
First open with a subordinate clause—Even as I descended the stairs
Now comes the base clause—I heard his voice
Greenwell expands that voice by using a relative clause to describe the voice further—which like the rest of him was too large for those subterranean rooms
The voice continues to swell with a modifying phrase—spilling out of them
The voice is further magnified with a subordinate clause: as if to climb back into the bright afternoon
Now, Greenwell begins a relative clause with the word “that,” but interrupts it with a subordinate clause—though it was mid-October. Here is the narrator’s mind interjecting and elaborating.
And now he returns to the relative clause, which, if we put it together reads: “that had nothing autumnal about it.”
He uses a semicolon to closely connect the final sentence, which also includes a relative clause—the grapes that hung ripe from vines throughout the city burst warm still in one’s mouth.
Another thing I love about this sentence is the subtle link between the voice, which turns out to belong to Mitko B., who will become the narrator’s lover, and the grapes. The grapes invite sensuality—those warm grapes in one’s mouth—and because of the connection to the voice, the sensuality is transferred to the voice. It foreshadows or sets up the sexual relationship between Mitko and the narrator. And, astonishingly, it’s done in one sentence.
Try it! Let me know what you discover.
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Phew. These are getting more challenging, but I'm determined to keep going. Thank you for the parsing of this gigantic, meandering sentence. I'm thoroughly enjoying my crash progress through your early posts and exercises. I think the sentence I've written this time is very cumbersome, although I followed the syntax of the model closely. I know mine is more wordy, and I could tighten it up, if tightening up is what one should do when composing l-o-n-g sentences. So I didn't. I left it as is and will proceed to the next exercise.
My sentence:
The whole time I walked along that street I was aware of their eyes, which unlike yours did not speak of trust and goodwill, piercing me with their suspicions as if it was I who had come to disturb their comfortable complacencies that, though they had no desire to, they could have disturbed all by themselves if they would only truly open those eyes and recognise how freedom was theirs to grasp; the barriers that had been dismantled years ago were still firmly in place in their minds.
It is interesting how the descending protagonist and the ascending voice intersect or collide, I can feel the collision as it happens, with the protagonist already in the act of descending as he encounters the voice deep within the stairs. ‘Even as’ and the past tense ‘descended’ are positioned first then the active ‘to climb back into’ is placed second. So it feels like he meets the voice partway down the stairs. A fun alternate to the syntactic symbolism would have the voice climbing up then the protagonist enters into the voice and descends the stairs:
His voice, which like the rest of him was too large for those subterranean rooms, spilled out and up, as if climbing back into the bright afternoon, even as I entered the stairs and descended; it was mid-October, though it had nothing autumnal about it, and throughout the city, the grapes that hung ripe from vines still burst warm in one’s mouth.
This also places the protagonist in the sunshine first then entering the darkness. This doesn’t feel as strong as the original sentence but illustrates a different sequence.