Style and Statement

STYLE AND STATEMENT
by Edward P.J. Corbett and Robert J. Connors
(a book review by L McKenna Donovan)

You know, I really should be working on my novel series, but there are times when my muse balks, gleefully withholding its magic from my proposed path no doubt a dilemma with which you don't have to struggle. Be that as it may, my muse won, so I let go of the novel and came here to stir up some trouble. To that end, let me ask you:

How much of our art is creative instinct and how much is sweat and blood?

I mean really! Aren't we creatures of instinct, artisans of the word, sculptors of language, driven to delve into the block of our humanity and expose the buried truth of our pitiful existence? I could continue ad nauseum, but hyperbole aside, admit it! We are all these things, if not more.

How many times have we stared at the blank page until the metaphorical blood beads on our foreheads? Well, I don't know about you, but I've never been much into blood. So we're back to my original question:

How much of our art is creative instinct and how much is sweat and blood?

Let's assume it's instinct. Then you tell me why the single largest-selling genre of books deals with the craft of writing? Don't deny it; we're addicted. You know it, I know it, and I know that you know it. If there were a Bibliophiles-Anonymous, we'd all belong. There are books on writing, magazines on writing, newsletters on writing, conferences on writing, e-zines on writing; there are writers' groups, online writers' groups, writers' websites (you're reading this, aren't you?), and writers' forums. This maelstrom of material either floods us with advice we've already heard or deluges us with contradictions that send us back to that blank page to sweat more blood. So it's not just instinct.

On the other hand, if we assume it's all hard work, then why doesn't every hard-working person write? How is it that some material can appear perfectly crafted, yet leave the reader cold? So it's not just hard work.

Ergo, it must be a balance of both instinct and hard work. You knew I was going to say that, didn't you? (That was not a question, just in case you were checking for my email address.)

Let me compare writing to sculpture. We hold a vision in our mind's eye, we hack out the rough form, and then hone it to portray the final product. That which entrances us in this most rewarding and bewildering of crafts is the process of sculpting our thoughts; that which intrigues and captivates our readers is the form that emerges from our sculpting.

So, you ask, how does this all relate to Style and Statement, by Corbett and Connors?

To create, writers and sculptors need both raw material and the proper tool. Since words are the writer's raw material, what is our primary tool?

Style.

Style.

And let's not forget...Style.

In short, style is our primary tool. Style and Statement is the instruction manual for our tools. Just as there are style tools we use without giving them a second's thought, there are those we wield in a rather heavy handed manner until we get the feel for them as well as those last few specialty tools that are sheer puzzlement. What is this one used for? you ask yourself. You pick it up, heft it, examine it, tentatively apply it to the craft, put it back down. But it never quite leaves your mind. Finally, you give in, pick up the instruction manual on how to use the tool, learn its intrinsic value to your craft, and reapply yourself to mastering it.

Style and Statement, by Edward P.J. Corbett and Robert J. Connors, shows us the value of our words; irrefutably, the most elementary and essential tool in the writer's toolbox. Corbett and Connors ease open the drawers of the box, one by one placing each tool on the workbench, lovingly showing us its use and its effect on our raw material. Then, in the tradition of a master craftsman, they hand us the tool, have us copy the strokes and curves, then they encourage us to decide if we wish to put that tool in our own toolbox. If we understand the tools cradled in our hands, the assumption is that we can then use them to shape our scenes, plot our novels, and write for our readers in ways as pleasing as they are persuasive. This 141-page book is essentially the fourth chapter of their greater work, Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student, and presents an excellent insight into that elusive thing called 'style'.

Don't skip the Preface, which contains excellent background information regarding the ages-old question: what is style? In essence, style is the art of persuasion period. After all, aren't we persuading our readers to follow us, whether we're writing fiction or non-fiction?

Prior to opening their toolbox, Corbett and Connors state that we "acquire...versatility of style in three ways: 1) through a study of precepts or principles...(2) through practice in writing...(3) through imitation of the practice of others." [Corbett and Connors, Style and Statement, pg. 3]

Let's switch analogies for a moment. Once Corbett and Connors open their toolbox, think of them as picking up a state-of-the-art camera and focusing on the contents. In the best tradition of a photographer, they open with a close-up discussion about word choice, i.e., diction as defined by the acquisition of an adequate vocabulary, the denotative and connotative uses of words, and the purpose of precision in our prose. This speaks to the emotional impact of a single word.

Then they open the lens wider to include the composition of the sentence, and once we are well focused, they put on the wide angle lens to include types of sentences, the variety of sentence patterns, sentence euphony and articulation of sentences. Sound overwhelming? It can be, frankly. But there is DEPTH OF FIELD to their work (sorry, I couldn't resist extending the analogy), which becomes apparent the more one studies it.

The largest section, and by far the most intriguing to me, is on figures of speech. Thankfully, they declined to use the almost two hundred classifications of figures of speech as outlined in Henry Peacham's 1577 edition of The Garden of Eloquence, electing instead to direct our attention to the most useful figures of speech: schemes and tropes. Schemes of words (poetic diction), schemes of construction and the tropes (metaphor, simile, synecdoche, et al) bring out the sparkle on the diamonds of your ideal-cut prose.

Sound intimidating? Not on your life, if you take the time to study, practice and imitate. Throughout the book, Corbett and Connors provide the student with numerous examples, using sources such as literature, advertising, famous (or infamous) speeches and lyrics from songs (I may have forgotten seven or ten other sources).

They conclude with readings from Hugh Blair: Critical Examination of the Style of Mr. Addison in No. 411 of "The Spectator," John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address and A Paragraph of Virginia Woolf Analyzed for Style.

Absolutely worth the investment of time.

Oh! One last thing. The study of style does not negate the unique quality of your writer's voice; it brings contrast and definition to your writing. Imagine style as the black velvet behind the diamonds of your prose. Persuasive? You tell me.

© 2002 L McKenna Donovan
Bonfire contributor