Word nerd
Unofficially, I am reading a funny bit of fantasy called The One Tree, by Stephen Donaldson (who I keep wanting to call Donald Stephenson). I have missed the previous four books in the Thomas Covenant saga, as well as the following seven, so I am a little adrift when it comes to understanding it, but most of the narrative hangs together. My biggest complaint is probably the silliness of many of the interpersonal interactions going on – it reads a little like a teen movie, a little like a Mills & Boon book, a little like Lord of the Rings. That aside, though, Donaldson’s impressive vocabulary is driving me back to a dictionary every time I read, which hasn’t happened, like, ever.
Consider the following extract from Chapter 7:
Suddenly, power seemed to flash around her as if she had been dropped like a coal into a tinderbox. Bells clanged in her head – chimes ringing in cotillion on all sides. Bubbles of glauconite and carbuncle burst in her blood; the air burned like a thurible; the world reeled.
Stunned and gaping, she panted for breath. She had been translated by water and travertine to another place altogether – a place of eldritch astonsihment. An opalescent sky stretched over her, with the suggestive evanescence of night and the specificity of day. And under its magic, wonders thronged in corybantic succession. Nearby grew a silver sapling. Like flakes of precious metal, the leaves formed a chiaroscuro around the tree, casting glints and spangles as they whirled. A furry shape like a jarcol went gambolling past, and appeared to trip. Sprawling, it became a profuse scatter of flowers. Blooms that resembled peony and amaryllis sprayed open across the glistening greensward. Birds flew overhead, warbling incrnate. Cavorting in circles, they swept against each other, merged to form an abrupt pillar of fire in the air. A moment later, the fire leapt into sparks, and the sparks became gems – ruby and morganite, sapphire and porphyry, like a trail of stars.
And these were only the nearest entrancements. Other sights abounded; grand statues of water; a pool with its surface woven like an arras; shrubs which flowed through a myriad elegant forms; catenulate sequences of marble, draped from nowhere to nowhere; animals that leaped into the air as birds and drfted down again as snow; swept-wing shapes of malachite flying in gracile curves; sunflowers the size of Giants, with imbricated ophite petals.
And everywhere rang the music of bells – cymbals in carillon, chimes wefted into tapestries of tinkling, tones scattered on all sides – the metal-and-crystal language of Elemesnedene.
Words to learn and use (though perhaps not in everyday conversation) include: eldritch (supernatural, unearthly), imbricate (to regularly overlap), ophite (mottled green), porphyry (rock with large, conspicuous crystals), arras (a wall hanging or tapestry), catenulate (chain-like), exigency (a quality of requiring much effort or urgency), anadem (a wreath or garland for the head), and copasetic (satisfactory).
Rachael, et al said,
Dec 21, 13:08 #
If that prose is typical, it sounds like the author is having one giant pull of your leg! What’s the point of rare vocabulary when it feels so wasted here… Give me Michael Ondaatje any day.Ben said,
Dec 21, 22:50 #
It does feel like having a decent vocab is a waste of time, seeing as it feels so forced using those words which look unusual (“Wow, your hair’s looking really…er, eldritch today!”). And most people wouldn’t know what words like ‘porphyry’ or ‘catenulate’ mean these days.Actually, there’s a challenge for us men. Tell your lady that her hair looks eldritch today. Go on.
I’m not sure if Donaldson is pulling my leg, Rach! Admittedly, the example I used here is more thickly verbose than the usual prose – but, the slipping in of unusual words occurs right throughout the text. It makes me think he has something to prove about his vocab…
David G said,
Dec 22, 03:08 #
Makes me think he’s a crap writer.Lucy said,
Dec 22, 06:24 #
y’know, sometimes its gets to the point where someone is just plain showing off.Enter: Lucy the Literary Critic
“ooh look at me with my extensive vocabulary!! Using multi-syllabic, nonsensical words makes me an utter literary GENIUS!! Could i BE any more descriptive” – Direct quote from Mr Donaldson
I find overly descriptive narrative actually quite dull, slow and confusing. I forget what supposed to be happening because i’m distracted by ambiguity of the author’s over-glorified explanations of the character’s environment. It makes me uncomfortable and unable to really mesh my mind with the flow of the story.
Seriously, sounds like he wrote the entire thing with a thesaurus. (And a dictionary to check he right-click-inserted the right synonym)
Puh-lease…
P.S. It sounds like a really good book! :o)
Lucy said,
Dec 22, 06:25 #
... boy, do i feel like i belong in an Arts Facutly…Ben said,
Dec 22, 07:18 #
Dave & Lucy: he is a bit of a crap writer.drew said,
Dec 22, 23:50 #
Yuh…I’m reading Bleak House (Dickens) at the moment…
You can use big words, but before you should be allowed you need a certain profligacy in your description, an ability to take a picture up and swill it around in your mouth and tast the subtle hints and flavours of its society and then spew it forth again in a way that not only shows the deep richness and variety of your vision, but also creates extremely long sentences.
It’s kind of like Hebrew poetry – Have you ever noticed how it always says things at least twice? Do you see how Hebrew poetry has the tendancy to repeat itself?
With the exception of the long words, Donaldson’s description is fairly pedestrian, which is why it seems out of place. He has to earn the right to use them.
Bleak House is so worth reading. Absolutely epic, and worth every one of it’s 900+ pages.
drew said,
Dec 22, 23:53 #
Oh dear, no wonder writers are seen as bourgoesie and self indulgent…/Karen/ said,
Dec 23, 00:39 #
Do you feel compelled to read a crap novel right to the very end? I used to and then realised life was too short and there were plenty of other books I’d rather be reading.drew said,
Dec 23, 02:52 #
exactly my sentiments… I work in publishing. There are way too many books, and way too little time.In fact, publishers publish books that are deliberately designed not to be read. They are pure money spinners, and the content is absolutely hideous.
And then next Christmas/Fathers/Mothers day, people will buy next years stocking stuffers/insert appropriate ‘celebration’ here all over again.
Ben said,
Dec 23, 03:08 #
I think I’m still in the ‘but I have to know how it ends!’ stage of literary development – my curiosity will get the better of me and I’ll be compelled to finish this book, even though Donaldson’s writing is, as Drew said, pedestrian.In this case, this works against me, because The One Tree is part of a huge series of books, and I’ll never know how it ends. Perhaps I should abandon it now and start the next thing on my reading list. (either Carson’s The Gagging of God – somehow appropriate for Christmastime reading – or Ishmael, My Brother.) Still, I learnt some new words, so it was worth the $2 I paid for it.
Rachael, et al said,
Dec 23, 07:49 #
...that reminds me, Sandra Daly asked me once if we should subscribe to the sydney telegraph as they had a deal with schools for $5 a year. I said that sounded great value to me, if only the paper they sent had not been printed on…Craig Schwarze said,
Dec 23, 14:24 #
I cant believe I plowed through all 6 of the Thomas Covenant books when I was a teen. I think I must have done a fair bit of skimming.The remarkable thing about the books is how little action there is.
I agree with Karen. Life is far too short to waste on crap books. Reability is key.
David G said,
Dec 24, 00:20 #
I have absolutely no idea what good literature is. I rarely read fiction as I feel to guilty about the non-fiction I could be reading....But I do prefer tight, austere prose. Once you’ve read Hemingway, all else is masturbation. :)