This was a fun exercise, Nina! I really enjoy working with different registers, and frequently turn to etymonline.com for help when I want to double down on using word origins for subtle emphasis.
Here's my attempt, even though I messed it up a bit:
"She wasn't teaching anyone as she painted in the park, except for the silent acolytes accumulating behind her, first one and then a hundred, discovering the landscape at their easels by miming her every stroke."
I rarely use the word 'except', and at that point a second subject (the acolytes) took over from the first (she). Is there a word for this? What kind of sentence did I write?!
Beautiful! I can see this crowd ballooning behind her, around her, quietly painting. And she feels so absorbed by her work that she's unaware that she's not alone. What a great contrast between the first part of the sentence and the second. Right-branching, followed by the dependent clause (as she painted in the park), then a conjunction and a prepositional phrase that unfurls what feels like a cumulative sentence with the modifiers referring to the acolytes. Looking up the origin of words is so helpful!
And, yes, playing with word origins can lead to some really fun places. The first version of this I scribbled read:
"... except for the silent students gathering behind her.... learning at their easels..."
But, I wanted to emphasize the shift from Germanic roots to Latin, so "gather" became "accumulate" which prompted the change from "student" to "acolyte" (to shift the alliteration to a different beat), and "learn" became "discover" which necessitated something to discover (the landscape), and the whole thing suddenly took on sacred overtones, opening up from a sort of outdoor classroom into an open-air chapel of art. Totally unintentional, but that's why I really like playing with register and etymology. It leads to a lot of "a-ha!" moments.
Nov 18, 2023·edited Nov 18, 2023Liked by Nina Schuyler
Fascinating as always. Thank you again.
I have a question, if I might. Do you think (or perhaps know) that Salinger (and writers of his class) are creating changes of register in a conscious and studied way, or are they managing to write with a certain voice from years of honing their craft? (or maybe there's no difference, one begets the other).
I ask because sometimes when I'm writing I seem to flow, and almost sleepwalk along as the writing appears, and other times I'm thinking and editing and constructing the tempo and intervening almost to create a voice.
Sometimes I feel like Salinger writes like a person speaking instead of a person writing. If you read your sentence slowly it could be a man talking to a friend about some girl he saw. There's a very close and direct narrative sound, a kind of whispering in your ear with the poetics of a certain kind of speech.
Anyway, I'm not sure what I'm saying really. But thanks again, I feel like I'm learning from your posts.
I don't know, but after a while, after writing for years and years, and reading voluminous amounts, so much is absorbed in the unconscious. In teaching, we call it "unconscious competence." So this sentence might have unspooled from this unconscious place in a first draft. Or, he could have fiddled with it in revision and added the style. Though it sounds oral, I want to point out (like in Grace Paley's work) that there is so much style.
Unconscious competence. That sounds like a noble and decent goal that an artist or a monk could aspire toward. Or even just (hopefully) a place that the path to old age might lead. (I didn't mean to imply that sounding oral was lesser in anyway. I love the style).
The contrast between "nowhere," accentuated with the alliteration of "now" and the ending "traversing millions of banned planets" is so strong. The latter becomes particularly accentuated because of the juxtaposition. I appreciate, too, the focus on sound. The sound is traversing, traveling, and stretching far into space. I'm intrigued with "banned" planets. So good!
This sentence reminds me of how we can travel without moving an inch, lost in our thoughts, whatever they might be. He went nowhere yet everywhere. The alliterative "nowhere now" also feels like polyptoton with the shared "now" root. He seems happy just sitting and singing on the riverbank, which is a such a tranquil image: water. Then we're catapulted to another element--Earth/solar system--where I, too, am intrigued by "banned planets." Is his mind going to places it knows it shouldn't? Is he being mischievous--scheming while singing--like a prisoner since he's going nowhere NOW? Many interpretations which makes it all the better a sentence.
Thank you for showing us these amazing sentences. And for so helpfully embedded the link to the previous week's stunning sentence. I know I read Allende's sentence maybe 25 years ago, but of course have forgotten it. It's wonderful to be reminded, and so thoughtfully and analytically.
One week of antithesis is challenging, but two weeks?! Salinger's sentence is so tight. I stayed simple and stuck close to his in an effort to hit everything:
The dude was useless by all accounts, other than hanging out pondering life, pouring peace over a wounded world.
Pouring peace over a wounded world - I love not only the alliteration but the image, the meaning. And the low register dude, the contrast of hanging out with pondering life. Wow.
I admit I absolutely cheated in all the situations you have listed above, except I didn't cheat to get ahead or erect out of a giant pile of average assertive rams, I cheated to ‘cause I don’t wanna lose my take on things.
This was a fun exercise, Nina! I really enjoy working with different registers, and frequently turn to etymonline.com for help when I want to double down on using word origins for subtle emphasis.
Here's my attempt, even though I messed it up a bit:
"She wasn't teaching anyone as she painted in the park, except for the silent acolytes accumulating behind her, first one and then a hundred, discovering the landscape at their easels by miming her every stroke."
I rarely use the word 'except', and at that point a second subject (the acolytes) took over from the first (she). Is there a word for this? What kind of sentence did I write?!
Beautiful! I can see this crowd ballooning behind her, around her, quietly painting. And she feels so absorbed by her work that she's unaware that she's not alone. What a great contrast between the first part of the sentence and the second. Right-branching, followed by the dependent clause (as she painted in the park), then a conjunction and a prepositional phrase that unfurls what feels like a cumulative sentence with the modifiers referring to the acolytes. Looking up the origin of words is so helpful!
Thank you, Nina! 🙏
And, yes, playing with word origins can lead to some really fun places. The first version of this I scribbled read:
"... except for the silent students gathering behind her.... learning at their easels..."
But, I wanted to emphasize the shift from Germanic roots to Latin, so "gather" became "accumulate" which prompted the change from "student" to "acolyte" (to shift the alliteration to a different beat), and "learn" became "discover" which necessitated something to discover (the landscape), and the whole thing suddenly took on sacred overtones, opening up from a sort of outdoor classroom into an open-air chapel of art. Totally unintentional, but that's why I really like playing with register and etymology. It leads to a lot of "a-ha!" moments.
Fascinating as always. Thank you again.
I have a question, if I might. Do you think (or perhaps know) that Salinger (and writers of his class) are creating changes of register in a conscious and studied way, or are they managing to write with a certain voice from years of honing their craft? (or maybe there's no difference, one begets the other).
I ask because sometimes when I'm writing I seem to flow, and almost sleepwalk along as the writing appears, and other times I'm thinking and editing and constructing the tempo and intervening almost to create a voice.
Sometimes I feel like Salinger writes like a person speaking instead of a person writing. If you read your sentence slowly it could be a man talking to a friend about some girl he saw. There's a very close and direct narrative sound, a kind of whispering in your ear with the poetics of a certain kind of speech.
Anyway, I'm not sure what I'm saying really. But thanks again, I feel like I'm learning from your posts.
I don't know, but after a while, after writing for years and years, and reading voluminous amounts, so much is absorbed in the unconscious. In teaching, we call it "unconscious competence." So this sentence might have unspooled from this unconscious place in a first draft. Or, he could have fiddled with it in revision and added the style. Though it sounds oral, I want to point out (like in Grace Paley's work) that there is so much style.
Unconscious competence. That sounds like a noble and decent goal that an artist or a monk could aspire toward. Or even just (hopefully) a place that the path to old age might lead. (I didn't mean to imply that sounding oral was lesser in anyway. I love the style).
Thanks so much for the answer.
He went nowhere now, except sitting on a riverbank singing with the rain, traversing millions of banned planets.
The contrast between "nowhere," accentuated with the alliteration of "now" and the ending "traversing millions of banned planets" is so strong. The latter becomes particularly accentuated because of the juxtaposition. I appreciate, too, the focus on sound. The sound is traversing, traveling, and stretching far into space. I'm intrigued with "banned" planets. So good!
This sentence reminds me of how we can travel without moving an inch, lost in our thoughts, whatever they might be. He went nowhere yet everywhere. The alliterative "nowhere now" also feels like polyptoton with the shared "now" root. He seems happy just sitting and singing on the riverbank, which is a such a tranquil image: water. Then we're catapulted to another element--Earth/solar system--where I, too, am intrigued by "banned planets." Is his mind going to places it knows it shouldn't? Is he being mischievous--scheming while singing--like a prisoner since he's going nowhere NOW? Many interpretations which makes it all the better a sentence.
Thank you, Kara, and I love your contemplation...
I always learn so much coming here, and after reading the review of your novel Afterword, I downloaded it. Sounds fascinating!
Thank you for showing us these amazing sentences. And for so helpfully embedded the link to the previous week's stunning sentence. I know I read Allende's sentence maybe 25 years ago, but of course have forgotten it. It's wonderful to be reminded, and so thoughtfully and analytically.
One week of antithesis is challenging, but two weeks?! Salinger's sentence is so tight. I stayed simple and stuck close to his in an effort to hit everything:
The dude was useless by all accounts, other than hanging out pondering life, pouring peace over a wounded world.
Pouring peace over a wounded world - I love not only the alliteration but the image, the meaning. And the low register dude, the contrast of hanging out with pondering life. Wow.
Thank you, Xiaoyan!
I admit I absolutely cheated in all the situations you have listed above, except I didn't cheat to get ahead or erect out of a giant pile of average assertive rams, I cheated to ‘cause I don’t wanna lose my take on things.
- Kopernicus