He thought for a moment of the Sikh and of the Pakistanis upstairs, who had come, no doubt with hopes, for who can prevent the human heart from hoping, from their own troubled lands into this alien milieu of poverty and racial tension and petty crime.
Iris Murdoch A Fairly Honorable Defeat
One of the most interesting aspects of this sentence, (and it’s a very stylized aspect), is tucked in the middle: “for who can prevent the human heart from hoping.” It’s interesting because typically the most important part of a sentence is at the very end. The ending of this sentence is significant, but it’s the middle that draws my ear and eye.
This sentence is from the point of view of Tallis, whose wife has left him. Unlike Julius, who passes along his immense suffering by causing others to suffer, Tallis refuses. It is only through Tallis, then, that the cycle of evil has a chance of ending. Which for me underlies the repetition of the word “hope.”
The Making
This is a right-branching complex sentence, with the base clause at the beginning, and the modifiers coming to the right of it. Murdoch creates rhythm with balance (pairing) and the eloquent flow of parallelism, “of the Sikh and of the Pakistanis.”
Let’s talk about the mesmerizing middle. You’re traveling along, grounded in a traditional sentence, with a subject—he—and verb—thought—and suddenly the road turns and you find yourself in a cul-de-sac. The turn here is caused by a parenthetical (a word or group of words that interrupts the flow of a sentence with additional, but non-essential information). Without the parenthetical, Murdoch’s sentence would read: “He thought for a moment of the Sikh and of the Pakistanis upstairs who had come from their own troubled lands into this alien milieu of poverty and racial tension and petty crime.”
The insertion of the parenthetical explains, in part, why I was attracted to the middle. The interruption calls attention to itself. Going back to the cul-de-sac metaphor, in this sentence, I’m glad to be there. There’s alliteration: hopes/human/heart/hoping. And polyptoton: hopes/hoping. (why do I like polyptoton so much?)
In the cul-de-sac, you can gain a greater glimpse of the character, with the voice or inner thoughts seeping in. It’s a chance to experience the texture of the character’s language.
The ending, too, draws my ear and eye because of its style. If Murdoch was following traditional grammatical structure, it would have been written like this: “into this alien milieu of poverty, racial tension, and petty crime.”
Instead, she uses the style technique of polysyndeton, which is the overuse of conjunctions: “poverty and racial tension and petty crime.” Polysyndeton generates many effects, including the creation of a rhythmic cadence and pace so each item isn’t skimmed over but emphasized. Each is stamped on the reader’s brain.
Try it. Let me know how it goes!
Wow, great sentence. I completely agree with your analysis. What I also liked is the way the parenthetical is added, with commas instead of ems or dashes, so that the parenthetical is softly rather than harshly interjected, and its creation through two parts, 'no doubt with hopes,' and 'for who can prevent the human heart from hoping,' which pauses the thought a second time as the thinker adds contemplatively to his/her own first thought. The parenthetical also has the strongest use of sound - alliteration and polyptoton - while the rest of the sentence uses balance and series. Because of this, the parenthetical has more feel of voice than analysis or observation. All the hope is parenthetical. I'm not sure if I consider the sentence to be the context and the parenthetical the thought or the parenthetical is the real context and the sentence is just a thought.
I too love polyptoton, because how can one help loving a variation on a theme and a musical misalignment and the joy of not-exactly-repeating? I think I love polysyndeton too -- and getting to know these terms through your posts! Thank you.