When he reached the bedroom and unbuttoned his shirt and had taken his trousers off and laid down, he did not want to close his eyes; when he closed his eyes he could see more clearly the white cuff of his wedding shirt poking through the wardrobe door, the stack of unopened, congratulatory cards and letters on the hallstand, the wedding dress she had insisted on showing him, the sons he would never have and the non-refundable diamond ring, which he couldn’t return, shining inside its box on the bedside table, and could hear her saying, yet again, and very clearly, and so late in the day, that she’d changed her mind and had no wish to marry him after all.
So Late in the Day, Claire Keegan
Keegan beautifully shows us how a long sentence can create great suspense and a tremendous build that culminates in a dramatic end. It’s like a little story in itself. It gathers energy, tension, propulsion and we want to be swept up and carried along to the satisfying end. If the story, i.e., the sentence, doesn’t end well, the reader will wonder: what was all the fuss about?
Here, the fuss is enormous. Cathal, the protagonist, proposes marriage, and Sabine accepts, but then, at the last moment (and for good reason) she changes her mind.
Keegan grows her sentence and builds to the powerful end using several techniques.
In the first dependent clause, she elongates the sentence by using polysyndeton, the overuse of conjunctions, stretching out the verbs as if Cathal is moving in slow motion: “When he reached the bedroom and unbuttoned his shirt and had taken his trousers off and laid down.” At this point in the story, Sabine has called off the wedding and he is alone in his house with his cat.
She also grows the sentence with a list of five details associated with the marriage. The list contains both the concrete—his wedding shirt, her dress, the ring--and also a whiff of the lost future, the sons he will not have. He’s a frugal, stingy man, and that, too, is conveyed in the list. Keegan writes the ring is “non-refundable,” and she repeats it, “which he couldn’t return,” illustrating Cathal’s obsession with money. She stays with the ring one more beat: “shining inside its box on the bedside table.” The box is shut, but still, he can picture it, this ring that is now his. (Note the ironic tone: even with his eyes open, he can picture all that is lost).
After the list, she adds another verb, “and could hear her saying,” and further delays the end with series, modifying how Sabine spoke 1) yet again 2) and very clearly 3) and so late in the day.
All of this comes to the climactic ending of the sentence with the painful dismantling of a dream.
Your Turn
Start with a left-branching sentence and use a dependent clause to open the sentence. In the dependent clause, use polysyndeton and string together four verbs.
Add your base clause. Since you are practicing, the base clause can be: what doesn’t your character want to do?
Add a semicolon.
Now comes your second left-branching sentence, opening with a dependent clause.
The base clause answers why your character doesn’t want to do this action. Add five details.
Can you add one final verb and use a series to build to the end? Did you build to something dramatic? Does it feel like a little story?
How did it go?
What else do you see?
If you’d like to read the entire story:
About Me:
I’ve taught “Style in Fiction,” “Word for Word” and “Cultivating Your Prose” at the University of San Francisco and Stanford Continuing Studies since 2007. Painters have paint; sculptors have clay. We have words, and words are sounds, and if you pay close attention to this, you can make music.
Please visit my website to find all of my books: ninaschuyler.com, including my novel Afterword, How to Write Stunning Sentences, and Stunning Sentences: A Creative Writing Journal.
Preorder My Award-Winning Short Story Collection:
I’m so happy that my short story collection, In This Ravishing World, will be published in July 2024. The collection won the W.S. Porter Prize for Short Story Collections and The Prism Prize for Climate Literature.
Nine connected stories unfold, bringing together an unforgettable cast of dreamers, escapists, activists, and artists, creating a kaleidoscopic view of the climate crisis. An older woman who has spent her entire life fighting for the planet sinks into despair. A young boy is determined to bring the natural world to his bleak urban reality. A scientist working to solve the plastic problem grapples with whether to have a child. A ballet dancer tries to inhabit the consciousness of a rat. It’s a full-throated chorus, with Nature joining in, marveling at the exquisite beauty of our world, and pleading, raging, and ultimately urging everyone toward activism and resistance.
I’d really appreciate it if you pre-ordered the book. Here’s the link:
Afterword: A Notable 100 Book!
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Thank you!
What a magnificent way to end a story. I haven't read the book so am unsure if this is a reveal or if we already know she has pulled out of the marriage - but what an inspiration for writers to pay great attention and craft to those last sentences. Perhaps they are even more important than the first sentence for creating reader satisfaction and a hunger to read the next book by that same author. Finding a symphonic climax is a test of the author's skill and patience, but so much better than to fade on a weak note.
I'm glad I had read this story before reading this post! I didn't really know where the drama was going to lie until that very end. Thank you for the close read of that last sentence and the instruction. I'm glad to know listing things with a series of "ands" is an acceptable literary technique!