Metaphor and Simile

[Rumple Foreskin]

Pure,

Okay, smart-aleck. I didn't mean to imply that I never use imagery. Wrtiing an interesting, non-clinical sex scene w/o using any imagery would be a challenge I'm not up to meeting. (That might make for a fun Lit writer's exercise/contest: Write a 500 word sex scene with no imagery.)

However and in my defense, you'll notice there were very few similes and even fewer metaphors in that passage. And while you're right, many of the items you pointed out were jargon names for acts and body parts which I used to reflect the narrator's personality and speech patters.

My problem isn't with all imagery, but with imagery, especially similes and metaphors, that calls attention to itself. To me, images should be like the percussion section in a great orchestra, felt more than noticed. There is, however, one exception; hard-boiled detective novels. I consider Chandler a literary demi-god and, to me, Spillane can be laugh out loud funny at times.

I read and re-read the Virginia Wolfe excerpt Angel posted. It reminded me why Wolfe so often leaves me angry. She was a very good writer, and might have become a great writer, if she'd ever trusted her ability to tell a story. But like a beautiful woman who "overdresses" and thereby detracts from her looks, IMHO, Wolfe often diluted the impact of her work with overdone imagery and intricate sentence construction.

Rumple

 

[Guest]

I read and re-read the Virginia Wolfe excerpt Angel posted. It reminded me why Wolfe so often leaves me angry. She was a very good writer, and might have become a great writer, if she'd ever trusted her ability to tell a story. ...

Ah gee, Rumply,

There is something called the pleasure of the text (coined, if you will, by Roland Barthes, that horrid little post-moderne French bloke). I read and reread Mrs. Woolf, the way I listen to favorite music over and over. Some great authors are not focused on telling a story. And I may as well spit it out now - Hemingway bores me to bits and I daresay he won't last another century, but Va. Woolf will.

Respectfully harumphing,

Perdita

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Ah gee, Rumply,

There is something called the pleasure of the text (coined, if you will, by Roland Barthes, that horrid little post-moderne French bloke). I read and reread Mrs. Woolf, the way I listen to favorite music over and over. Some great authors are not focused on telling a story. And I may as well spit it out now - Hemingway bores me to bits and I daresay he won't last another century, but Va. Woolf will.

Respectfully harumphing,

Perdita

I hear you, Ms P, and I "grok" where you're coming from. To use a simile, I suppose it's a matter of taste, like some people drinking scotch and others drinking gin. (Of course, in my case it's drinking whatever is free or cheapest.) And while I understand the "beauty for beauty's sake" arguement, I'm also reminded of the old adage I've just invented, "Beautiful writing is only page deep, but good story telling goes to the binding."

Rumple the Repentent (for goading Perdita into a "harump")

 

[Guest]

Mr. RF, you are a true gentilhomme. It is always a pleasure corresonding with you. I like your adage mucho.

Perdita

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Well, to me Woolf is all but unreadable. She writes like a critical theorist, which is what she was, and she was more concerned with the way things are written than with what they say, which is probably why no one but grad students read her today. To me that excerpt is turgid, overblown and painfully contrived, and I can't imagine anyone writing that way today. Not with a straight face.

She mentored Hemingway, of course, who rejected just about everything she believed in and went in the opposite direction, developing a very lean and spare style that concentrated on the story, and who pretty much set the style that's so pervasive today that we all just take it for granted: it's what a short story should sound like.

If anyone is still reading in 50 years, I'd put my money on Ernie as outlasting Woolfie. Her prose is already dated.

However, I suppose that anyone who thinks that Lord Byron is the absolute last word in irony might enjoy a bout with Virginia Woolf...

Just had to stand up for the non-intellectuals among us.


---dr.M.

 

[raphy]

*grins* .. Thanks, Dr. M.

I've never read Woolfe or Hemmingway, but then I think I'm about as non-literary and non-intellectual as you get round these parts. I write in exactly the same way as I play guitar - Without any formal training or education whatsoever, outside of correct grammar and sentence construction. I just .. write.

I think Rumple's right. It's very clearly a matter of taste and 'What yanks yer crank.'

Me, like metaphors, similies and imagery - But I like 'em combined with lean, terse, economical prose. S'why I write the way I write.

 

[Guest]

Ha, ha, Mab. You stand up for your self and yours well. However, I must let you know that having worked in a university for 15+ years I can assure you there are thousands of undergrads enjoying the pleasures of reading Mrs. Woolf with no recourse to theory.

Of course I stick w/my staying power statement though it's not enough to want to stick around that long myself.

Perdita

p.s. I really wish the AH would not keep dividing up into camps of literariness. I'm up front and passionate about my likes and dislikes but I truly don't mean my expressions to brook no opposites or to make anyone get personally 'self' defensive.

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

I can assure you there are thousands of undergrads enjoying the pleasures of reading Mrs. Woolf with no recourse to theory. Perdita

Of course not, if they've had VW forced upon them, it's THERAPY they need, not theory. Hahahahaha! Rumple got off a good one. Snicker, snicker.

Rumple "Retreating Quickly" Foreskin

 

[Guest]

"Retreating Quickly" Foreskin

Now that was a good one, Rump. I likes those retreating foreskins amidst uncut men.

Perdita

 

[Pure]

I think Woolf will last, though in one way I vote with mab.

The amateur/fledgling writers around here including most present company have most to learn from Hemingway. There is hardly a 'lean' one amongst them/us. A 'lean' porn writer (Acker, at times), or even an erotic writer (V. Leduc, author of 'Therese and Isabelle'), is as rare as a skinny pastry chef.

I'm not sure who the teachers or examples were except for half wit followers of (non-half-wit) Poe and Rimbaud.

The complex writers--those who honed and perfected their complexity--of whom Virginia is a founding mother, I guess, are going to last, from Joyce to Pynchon, but maybe it's 'cause the obscurity can generate thousands of PHD theses.

J.

 

[gauchecritic]

Please tell me if I'm wrong (and I very probably am) as I haven't read Wolfe or Hemingway, but are we being told to not write prose but to tell a straight story instead?

My understanding of the word prose includes all the flowery nonsense and picture painting a la Thomas Hardy's 'Return of the Native'.

I think you'll find there are hundreds if not thousands of stories on this site which dispense entirely with prose, are one page long and can hold the interest for a maximum of 2 paragraphs.

Please tell me this isn't what you mean.

Gauche

 

[Guest]

Thank you! Gauche, for summing up the crux of the matter. I hope you are wrong but I myself am skeptical on this board.

When scanning the literature that has remained vital in any culture it is not the content alone that has kept it alive, but its form (including aesthetics) and basic relevance to the human — the relevance always more substantive than the form, e.g., story, poem, film. (It’s why ‘beauty for beauty’s sake’ is crap, btw. RF misjudged my appreciation of Va. Woolf.)

For me a story is only as interesting as its narrator makes it; “story as story” alone is nada. The numerous stories on this site, as you note, which do not hold your attention are like empty shells. I find Hemingway's work empty shells of characters and prose. (The only American writers of note I can reread are H. James, Edith Wharton and some F.S. Fitzgerald.) I do not mean to incite, only to give examples. On the other hand, with very little story, props, or dramatis personae, Beckett will keep people thinking for centuries.

Perdita

p.s. no big but for all the variations, the name is Woolf.

 

[OldnotDead]

Good day, (at least those of us who are Cubs fans hope it will be)

As I read through some of the more recent postings, I understand Gauchie's concern, but I think it is misplaced. I don't think anyone is suggesting that stripped down writing is the only way to go. Trying to make a comparison to another art form, I doubt that anyone would suggest that the only thing worthy of display were pen and ink or charcoal drawings.

At the same time, a perfectly crafted, elaborate, paint by number oil work would not be thought of at the same level as a Mattise charcoal or Piccasso etching.

What I want to add, or repeat as the case may be, is that the execution of an idea is often just as important as the idea itself. Short, terse writing is very hard to do well. At the other extreme most of those who have tried to immitate Faulkner fall very short. Style of any kind is not going to get a 'pass' from critics simply for it's 'superior' content.

And just as some styles of visual art are not attractive to some, there are going to be styles of written works that are not attractive to readers. But we would all be a lot poorer to not have the variety available. I really tried to like Elmore Leonard, but I'm more comfortable with Robert Parker, and given a choice probably reread a Nero Wolfe story over many new offerings. It's not who is good or bad, it's my taste.

Adding one contrarian note, I think the improvement in technology is going to also improve the quality not just the quantity of what's available. Reducing costs of production and distirbution allow small runs to be economical. Direct distribution will allow access for both authors and readers.

 

[Angeline]

There's room in the world for Hemingway and Woolf and, yes, King, and even--gag--writers like Rod Mckuen, whose sugary crud I wouldn't have published in the most florid greeting card, but he made pots of money, so there you go. And to debate who will sustain into the next century as a measure of value seems beside the point. We won't be here to know.

Individual tastes vary just as literary styles do. I love Dickens (probably not surprising given my verbose prose). Hemingway feels clipped, paltry, and thus uninteresting to me-- though I see the value of people learning from him how to pare back their verbiage--well, except me, lol.

I like precise writing; I am pleased by the use of just the right word in the right place, but precise doesn't necessarily mean short. If it did, then we could forget about someone like Coleridge, doc, and just read haiku.

I don't deny Hemingway's greatness as a writer--he's just not great for me. But the wonderful thing about different tastes is that there are enough of us for you and yours to appreciate his genius and me and mine to adore Dickens, or Woolf, or Kate Chopin. Why does there have to be one right way?

 

[Pure]

Rumple said,

//However and in my defense, you'll notice there were very few similes and even fewer metaphors in that passage. And while you're right, many of the items you pointed out were jargon names for acts and body parts which I used to reflect the narrator's personality and speech patterns. //

I did after a time, realize that choosing a character's speech in a first person story might be called cheating. Maybe I should look at your third person stories. OTOH, if the character is not very educated that underscores the omnipresence of metaphor and figuration, in broader terms. Further, iirc, are not the metaphors of Spillane part of the first person speech of the detective; if that's true then the analogy is good.

There were *not, imo, few metaphors in that passage, leaving aside terms for 'dick'.

sliced, savor, pumped, blowing, triggered, explode, load, bow

Nor do I think a 'jargon name' cannot be a metaphor, e.g, 'hammer' for penis.

So, agreeing with your explanation of 'color' in several senses, I think the main points stand.

J.

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

writers like Rod Mckuen, whose sugary crud I wouldn't have published in the most florid greeting card,

Angeline,

As mentioned before, I lack the soul of a poet. My taste in that area of writing begins with Edna Millay and ends with Ogden Nash.

Once upon a time, it wasn't unheard of for poets to make a buck or two off their work. A few even made a living from their efforts. But not since the much maligned Rod M has there been a poet make the best-seller list. That was about 30 years ago, a fact which, IMHO, says more about the state of modern poetry than it does the public.

Rumple

 

[Pure]

Gauche said in part,


but are we being told to not write prose but to tell a straight story instead?

Hemingway wrote prose. AND told a straight story. Vonnegut often achieves this.

My understanding of the word prose includes all the flowery nonsense and picture painting a la Thomas Hardy's 'Return of the Native'.

Prose includes, besides the lean stuff, the 'purple prose' vastly represented in Lit archives.

I think you'll find there are hundreds if not thousands of stories on this site which dispense entirely with prose, are one page long and can hold the interest for a maximum of 2 paragraphs.

I think I'd say that hundreds of stories show not a trace of literary touch or ability.

I agree they are boring. But the 'ornateness', the garish and trite ornament that many insert in the name of 'description' or 'prose' (in your sense) are what make them that way**. "Then I savagely impaled her hot dripping pussy on my rock hard cock, while watching her fiery red pussy lips greedily grasping the gigantic tool swollen by the tidal wave of my lust."

I meant what I said. Tell the story. Tell it lean. Tell it fresh. In that sense, almost all could learn more from Hemingway or say, Louise Erdrich, than from Poe. (Other examples of 'lean' at random: Kafka, Jacov Lind, Camus, (Craig Nova, the author of "Geek")).

This is not to say I don't enjoy the complex writers like Durrell,
R. Davies, Pynchon, but heaven save us from writers here who attempt to follow those examples.


J.

**besides formulaic characters, episode sequences, and plots.

 

[Guest]

... not since the much maligned Rod M has there been a poet make the best-seller list. That was about 30 years ago, a fact which, IMHO, says more about the state of modern poetry than it does the public.

I want to remind people we do restrict ourselves to English and American lit. on this board (and by American unfortunately the Southern part of the continent is neglected).

Poets in the former Soviet Union, and still now in its parcels, are revered not unlike sports heroes. Poets there would give readings in theaters and stadiums; I suspect even today any Russian child can recite Pushkin or Akhmatova on call. And yes, poets were abused, censored and killed for their work.

European friends 'my' age (give a decade for and aft) can still recite poetry in their languages, don't know the state of affairs today though.

Perdita

 

[dr_mabeuse]

For the record, I should say that I'm not particularly crazy about Hemingway. I think he's a very, very good writer and I can appreciate his place in Literature, especially when you look what went before him and what came after, but I recognize a lot of great writers, including Virginia Woolf.

There was a time when everyone wanted to write like Papa Hemingway, and he was arguably the last literary superstar, simply because during his time paperbacks became popular and opened publishing to thousands of new authors, changing the whole compexion of publishing. But they still have Hemingway competitions where people try to imitate his style, and they can be pretty funny.

But anyone who fails to see imagery in his stuff is not reading the same books as I am. And his images shine so brightly because he knew how to set them up. He was a wonderfully controlled writer without appearing to be that way, and he worked extremly hard at making his writing appear effortless.

Comparisons of writers as to who's "best" are not only odious, they're silly. It's like arguing over which is the best color. But I think of Woolf as the end of the European tradition of the novel, and Hemingway as being a harbinger of an entirely new approach to fiction.

Funny that they both ended up suicides.

---dr.M.

 

[RenzaJones]

There's room in the world for Hemingway and Woolf and, yes, King, and even--gag--writers like Rod Mckuen, whose sugary crud I wouldn't have published in the most florid greeting card, ?

Re: R Mckuen. They say a spoon full of sugar helps the medicince go down but damn if I don't feel nauseous two minutes after it's in my system.

 

[Guest]

 

[Angeline]

Angeline,

As mentioned before, I lack the soul of a poet. My taste in that area of writing begins with Edna Millay and ends with Ogden Nash.

Once upon a time, it wasn't unheard of for poets to make a buck or two off their work. A few even made a living from their efforts. But not since the much maligned Rod M has there been a poet make the best-seller list. That was about 30 years ago, a fact which, IMHO, says more about the state of modern poetry than it does the public.

Rumple

Well, Milay wrote beautiful poetry--I especially love her sonnets, and "candy is dandy but liquor is quicker" may not be metaphorical, but it sure conjures an image.

I agree with you about modern poetry, although there are some newer poets I like a lot. The absolute best of them don't, imo, come anywhere near the ones I love best (Yeats, Robert Browning, John Donne, Shakespeare, Petrarch are a few), but again that's my taste.

Oh, but here's a modern sonnet by Billy Collins that makes me laugh.


Sonnet

All we need is fourteen lines, well, thirteen now,
and after this one just a dozen,
to launch a little ship on love's storm-tossed seas,
then only ten more left like rows of beans.
How easily it goes unless you get Elizabethan
and insist the iambic bongos must be played
and rhymes positioned at the ends of lines,
one for every station of the cross.
But hang on here while we make the turn,
into the final six where all will be resolved,
where longing and heartache will find an end,
where Laura will tell Petrarch to put down his pen,
take off those crazy medieval tights,
blow out the lights, and come at last to bed.

--Billy Collins



Angeline

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Angeline,

Outstanding sonnet. I'm going to pass it along to my number two daughter who, unlike her old man, is a poet. For what it's worth, my favorite ditty by Millay is either, "Upon the rocks, the ugly houses stand. Come see my lovely castle, built upon the sand." or "My candle burns at both ends, it will not last the night. But... (What the heck, I'm going to leave the rest blank. Let the Millay illiterates wonder what happens next. )

Rumple

 

[Madame Manga]

"The iambic bongos"!

I'm dying here. I have to go dig out 'Picnic, Lightning'. Damn, that man is good.

MM