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loremaster anthony's birthday party
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Apr 18, 2018 17:17
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A few books I've read with terrible writing: I Love You, Beth Cooper by Larry Doyle.   Isn't it so funny? I feel like Doyle was trying to emulate Douglas Adams, but decided the trick to being funny was verbosity, vulgarity, and thinly veiled pop culture parodies, not rhythm, wit and playing with reader expectation. The Martian by Andy Weir  Largely boring book that thinks cleverness compensates for lack of characterization. Ashley's War by Gayle Tzemach Lemmon Actual quotes: "This is the dream team, Nadia thought. They are confident, they love the work, they are tough, and they know how to put on eyeliner." "Sarah Waldman, MP (military police) and former Girl Scout who loved sewing as much as survival training, stood before a cluster of surveillance monitors at the operations center."  Structurally, this book is terrible. We are introduced to over a dozen characters in the opening chapters, we follow them through bootcamp, and then it almost nonchalantly mentions that only half of the characters are together, and that the other half won't even meet in six months. Wait, so why are we explaining everything as if they're all in the same room if half of them will never even meet each other? Writ in Blood by James A. Moore Can't find any excerpts, but there's a part where an investigator gets jumped by three vampires but effortlessly defeats them with karate, in one of the worst action scenes I've read. Do not read any of these. They may as well have been written in dog poo poo instead of ink. Franchescanado fucked around with this message at 17:46 on Apr 18, 2018 |
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Apr 18, 2018 17:38
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ulvir posted:an obvious contender to this dilemma is Sphinx by French author Anne Garreta. her project was to write a novel without gender, and the way she did it was to abolish grammatical gender all together (by going for verbs, phrases, nouns and so forth that were in Neutrum or otherwise non-gendered), and this obviously materializes in vastly different ways in the original language compared to an English translation. I found the Emma Ramadan translation turgid. I don't have a copy, so I can't pick out passages, nor the translator's note where she explains her decision to use overly-florid prose (they cut that out of the Kindle sample dammit), but for all I know she was being totally faithful to the original given this remark in the introduction: quote:…it has none of the lightness, none of the gleeful structured play, found in most Oulipian fiction. Garréta's prose is heavy, drastic, baroque, at once ruthlessly clinical and deeply sentimental… I thought I'd like that, but it ended up such a slog. That doesn't necessarily make it bad prose though, so I'm up for a second opinion. But I probably won't tackle it again unless I go to the trouble to learn French.
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Apr 18, 2018 17:44
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Stuporstar posted:I found the Emma Ramadan translation turgid. I don't have a copy, so I can't pick out passages, nor the translator's note where she explains her decision to use overly-florid prose (they cut that out of the Kindle sample dammit), but for all I know she was being totally faithful to the original given this remark in the introduction: my physical copy is by the same translator, I believe. I might dig it up to post her introductory remarks regarding her choices. I remember enjoying the book regardless.
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Apr 18, 2018 18:03
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Mel Mudkiper posted:Well, take the first page or so of Great Gatsby. I will highlight sentences and clauses that I have issues with. Most of it falls into two categories, needlessly purple prose and atonal sentence structure. Thank you for this. I agree with quite a few of the issues you pointed out.
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Apr 18, 2018 18:04
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Here’s some of my favorite Proust imagery.quote:Me persuadant que j’étais « assis sur le môle » ou au fond du « boudoir » dont parle Baudelaire, je me demandais si son « soleil rayonnant sur la mer » ce n’était pas – bien différent du rayon du soir, simple et superficiel comme un trait doré et tremblant – celui qui en ce moment brûlait la mer comme une topaze, la faisait fermenter, devenir blonde et laiteuse comme de la bière, écumante comme du lait, tandis que par moments s’y promenaient çà et là de grandes ombres bleues, que quelque dieu semblait s’amuser à déplacer en bougeant un miroir dans le ciel. The Scott Moncrieff/Kilmartin translation seems to work. quote:Imagining that I was "sitting on the mole" or at rest in the "boudoir" of which Baudelaire speaks, I wondered whether his "sun's rays upon the sea" were not—a very different thing from the evening ray, simple and superficial as a tremulous golden shaft—just what at that moment was scorching the sea topaz-yellow, fermenting it, turning it pale and milky like beer, frothy like milk, while now and then there hovered over it great blue shadows which, for his own amusement, some god seemed to be shifting to and fro by moving a mirror in the sky. This James Grieve (Penguin) translation is awfully vulgar. quote:Fancying that Baudelaire’s lines about ‘lounging on the esplanade’ or ‘in the boudoir’ applied to me, I was wondering whether his ‘sunbeams gleaming on the sea’—unlike the evening sunbeam, simple and shallow, a tremulous golden shaft—might not be those I could see at that very moment burnishing the surfaces of the waves to topaz, fermenting it to a pale, milky beer, frothing it like milk, while every now and again great blue shadows passed over parts of it, as though high above us a god was having fun moving a mirror about. Bandiet fucked around with this message at 18:59 on Apr 18, 2018 |
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Apr 18, 2018 18:06
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ulvir posted:my physical copy is by the same translator, I believe. I might dig it up to post her introductory remarks regarding her choices. I remember enjoying the book regardless. If you do, can I ask you to find and post the bit from the club where the narrator is bragging about having once synchronized the entire dance floor into one fluid motion? I did like that bit. I thought I'd saved that passage myself, since I collect samples of writing that stands out to me, but I can't find it.
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Apr 18, 2018 18:10
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Stuporstar posted:If you do, can I ask you to find and post the bit from the club where the narrator is bragging about having once synchronized the entire dance floor into one fluid motion? I did like that bit. I thought I'd saved that passage myself, since I collect samples of writing that stands out to me, but I can't find it. sure, I could do that. I can't promise that I'd post this like within 24hrs from now, though
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Apr 18, 2018 19:25
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ulvir posted:sure, I could do that. I can't promise that I'd post this like within 24hrs from now, though That's cool. Thank you
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Apr 19, 2018 03:26
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What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so that I staggered as at a blow–was that if the Eternal Principle had rested in that curved thorn I had carried about my neck across so many leagues, and if it now rested in the new thorn (perhaps the same thorn) I had only now put there, then it might rest in everything, in every thorn in every bush, in every drop of water in the sea. The thorn was a sacred Claw because all thorns were sacred Claws; the sand in my boots was sacred sand because it came from a beach of sacred sand. The cenobites treasured up the relics of the sannyasins because the sannyasins had approached the Pancreator. But everything had approached and even touched the Pancreator, because everything had dropped from his hand. Everything was a relic. All the world was a relic. I drew off my boots, that had traveled with me so far, and threw them into the waves that I might not walk shod on holy ground.
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Apr 22, 2018 04:30
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"...,that...,....that..." awful.
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Apr 22, 2018 04:58
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CountFosco posted:What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so that I staggered as at a blow–was that if the Eternal Principle had rested in that curved thorn I had carried about my neck across so many leagues, and if it now rested in the new thorn (perhaps the same thorn) I had only now put there, then it might rest in everything, in every thorn in every bush, in every drop of water in the sea. The thorn was a sacred Claw because all thorns were sacred Claws; the sand in my boots was sacred sand because it came from a beach of sacred sand. The cenobites treasured up the relics of the sannyasins because the sannyasins had approached the Pancreator. But everything had approached and even touched the Pancreator, because everything had dropped from his hand. Everything was a relic. All the world was a relic. I drew off my boots, that had traveled with me so far, and threw them into the waves that I might not walk shod on holy ground. No
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Apr 22, 2018 14:02
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CountFosco posted:What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so that I staggered as at a blow–was that if the Eternal Principle had rested in that curved thorn I had carried about my neck across so many leagues, and if it now rested in the new thorn (perhaps the same thorn) I had only now put there, then it might rest in everything, in every thorn in every bush, in every drop of water in the sea. The thorn was a sacred Claw because all thorns were sacred Claws; the sand in my boots was sacred sand because it came from a beach of sacred sand. The cenobites treasured up the relics of the sannyasins because the sannyasins had approached the Pancreator. But everything had approached and even touched the Pancreator, because everything had dropped from his hand. Everything was a relic. All the world was a relic. I drew off my boots, that had traveled with me so far, and threw them into the waves that I might not walk shod on holy ground. Is this from Zybourne Clock
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Apr 22, 2018 20:08
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CountFosco posted:What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so that I staggered as at a blow–was that if the Eternal Principle had rested in that curved thorn I had carried about my neck across so many leagues, and if it now rested in the new thorn (perhaps the same thorn) I had only now put there, then it might rest in everything, in every thorn in every bush, in every drop of water in the sea. This sentence strikes me as particularly atonal and clumsy. The primary conceit, as best I can tell, is that we are following a particularly tangled chain of thoughts as the protagonist is reasoning out an idea. However, grammatically, it often loses its own focus, belying the authenticity of the narrator's perspective. The sentence is made up of multiple dependent clauses and supporting phrases. The primary issue is that the phrases distract from the focus on the idea as it nurtures and grows in the narrator's mind. Observe. I have highlighted the elements central of the character's path of logic, and italicized the portions irrelevant to that developing awareness. CountFosco posted:What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so that I staggered as at a blow–was that if the Eternal Principle had rested in that curved thorn I had carried about my neck across so many leagues, and if it now rested in the new thorn (perhaps the same thorn) I had only now put there, then it might rest in everything, in every thorn in every bush, in every drop of water in the sea. Why would he distract himself from his own thoughts, as he had them, by reminding himself of things he already knew? Surely the fact he carried it a long time was already established, and surely he and the reader know the know thorn was just put on. These might be forgiven if these unnecessary clauses were pleasing to the ear, but they aren't. The sentence is more musical if the appositives are removed from the two parallel "if" clauses. "if this, and if then, then if this" has a certain natural rhythm behind it. The additional clauses disrupt that rhythm without producing essential meaning. Its a tangled web of too many words and ideas that don't need to be there. A more concise and aesthetically pleasing version might read CountFosco posted:What struck me on the beach was that if the Eternal Principle had rested in that curved thorn I had worn, and now rested in the new thorn (perhaps the same thorn), then it might rest in everything, in every thorn in every bush, in every drop of water in the sea. Finally the staggering line is just terrible. No one in the history of anything has received a mental shock so great they staggered as if they were hit.
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Apr 22, 2018 20:32
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It's from Claw of the Conciliator, the second part of renowned science fiction author Gene Wolfe's masterpiece The Book of the New Sun.
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Apr 22, 2018 20:33
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To contribute, some of my favorite David Vann quotesquote:He hadn't yet seen his life wasted, hadn't yet understood the pure longing for what was really a kind of annihilation. A desire to see what the world can do, to see what you can endure, to see, finally, what you're made of as you're torn apart. A kind of bliss to annihilation, to being wiped away. "But ever he has longing, he who sets out on the sea", and this longing is to face the very worst, a delicate hope for a larger wave. quote:We think of Cain as the one who killed his brother, but who else was around to kill? They were the first two born. Cain killed what was available. The story has nothing to do with brothers.
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Apr 22, 2018 20:42
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Mel Mudkiper posted:Finally the staggering line is just terrible. No one in the history of anything has received a mental shock so great they staggered as if they were hit. It's actually kind of funny how badly hosed up that sentence got from all the piling on. Something struck him (1), it struck him indeed (2), not just a little, but so much so that he staggered (3), and the staggering was pretty bad too, as would be the result from a blow (4). In my opinion, the absolute limit to all these quantifiers would be "What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so much so that I staggered–"; the fourth element does nothing but take it from already pretentious to utterly laughable. Lex Neville fucked around with this message at 21:02 on Apr 22, 2018 |
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Apr 22, 2018 21:00
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Lex Neville posted:It's actually kind of funny how badly hosed up that sentence got from all the piling on. Something struck him (1), it struck him indeed (2), not just a little, but so much so that he staggered (3), and the staggering was pretty bad too, as would be the result from a blow (4). In my opinion, the absolute limit to all these quantifiers would be "What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so much so that I staggered–"; the fourth element does nothing but take it from already pretentious to utterly laughable. Its buffet writing, the belief that adding more to a sentence makes it a better sentence. And it often appeals to readers of the same discernment as buffets appeal to eaters.
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Apr 22, 2018 21:10
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Mel Mudkiper posted:To contribute, some of my favorite David Vann quotes I like the second for its brutal simplicity. However, I almost feel like the first would come across more cleanly when omitting everything from the quote onward. Before then, it's a relatively clear (albeit a little wordy, but that's not forbidden) description of a vague concept that does get the point across. I'd even go so far as to say that it does so quite admirably; it's an extremely specific experience that very few people would actually go through, but it becomes relatable through this detailed description nonetheless. The last bit just muddies all that though, imo. Lex Neville fucked around with this message at 21:22 on Apr 22, 2018 |
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Apr 22, 2018 21:18
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Here's a bit from Dead Souls (via Robert A Maguire) that I like: (Gogol died at 42) And here is, incidentally, the famous dancers-into-flies passage from the same that in some way exemplifies Gogol's style:  And here's P&V for comparison: quote:Entering the great hall, Chichikov had to squint his eyes for a moment, because the brilliance of the candles, the lamps, and the ladies’ gowns was terrible. Everything was flooded with light. Black tailcoats flitted and darted about separately and in clusters here and there, as flies dart about a gleaming white sugar loaf in the hot summertime of July, while the old housekeeper hacks it up and divides it into glistening fragments before the open window; the children all gather round watching, following curiously the movements of her stiff arms raising the hammer, and the airborne squadrons of flies, lifted by the light air, fly in boldly, like full masters, and, profiting from the old woman’s weak sight and the sunshine which troubles her eyes, bestrew the dainty morsels, here scatteredly, there in thick clusters. Satiated by summer’s bounty, which anyhow offers dainty dishes at every step, they fly in not at all in order to eat, but only in order to show themselves off, to stroll back and forth on the heap of sugar, to rub their back or front legs together, or to scratch themselves under the wings, or, stretching out both front legs, to rub them over their heads, then turn and fly away, to come back again in new, pestering squadrons.
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Apr 22, 2018 21:38
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Lex Neville posted:I like the second for its brutal simplicity. However, I almost feel like the first would come across more cleanly when omitting everything from the quote onward. Before then, it's a relatively clear (albeit a little wordy, but that's not forbidden) description of a vague concept that does get the point across. I'd even go so far as to say that it does so quite admirably; it's an extremely specific experience that very few people would actually go through, but it becomes relatable through this detailed description nonetheless. The last bit just muddies all that though, imo. I disagree. The last sentence is essential in its interpretation, it being a translated line from The Seafarer that is then reinterpreted. What he is implying is that this motivation is, in fact, neither vague nor specific to a few people. It is instead a universal drive behind the concept of masculinity. That we have a compulsion to seek annihilation as a way of knowing ourselves. Its something we seen in men who go to war to test themselves, among other things. The use of the line from the seafarer is to contradict the idea that men seek adventure for freedom, but rather seek adventure as a way to find meaning in death.
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Apr 22, 2018 21:46
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That's fair and I'll concede the point. Mine was a hot take and I hadn't immediately recognised The Seafarer so it felt a little tacked on. Thanks for elaborating.
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Apr 22, 2018 22:01
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Lex Neville posted:That's fair and I'll concede the point. Mine was a hot take and I hadn't immediately recognised The Seafarer so it felt a little tacked on. Thanks for elaborating. No worries! Its the thread for talking about prose. No one is obligated to agree with me.
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Apr 22, 2018 22:04
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"see what you're made of as you're torn apart" is exactly the sort of wordplay that exists in horrible poetry and it turns out it doesn't work better without a line break
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Apr 22, 2018 22:13
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CestMoi posted:"see what you're made of as you're torn apart" is exactly the sort of wordplay that exists in horrible poetry and it turns out it doesn't work better without a line break I disagree, it is set up in the context of the preceding ideas to simultaneously evoke the symbolic and physical ideas of annihilation that is more meaningful than you are giving it credit for
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Apr 22, 2018 22:23
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You are all philistines.
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Apr 23, 2018 00:58
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CountFosco posted:You are all philistines. Disliking science fiction is a classic philistine move for sure
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Apr 23, 2018 01:12
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CountFosco posted:You are all philistines. Perhaps you could explain why you liked it
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Apr 23, 2018 01:19
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I am disappointed in the lack of either the "that sucks" shitpost or the "u mad" response.
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Apr 23, 2018 01:24
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I like Sir Thomas Browne's incredibly baroque prosequote:In vain do individuals hope for immortality, or any patent from oblivion, in preservations below the moon; men have been deceived even in their flatteries, above the sun, and studied conceits to perpetuate their names in heaven. The various cosmography of that part hath already varied the names of contrived constellations; Nimrod is lost in Orion, and Osyris in the Dog-star. While we look for incorruption in the heavens, we find that they are but like the earth; — durable in their main bodies, alterable in their parts; whereof, beside comets and new stars, perspectives begin to tell tales, and the spots that wander about the sun, with Phaeton’s favour, would make clear conviction. and here's Charles Doughty, who was a 19th century guy who wrote his travel book about arabia in a similar style and apparently thought that the english language had declined since Spenser quote:Telal, the magnanimous prince of Shammar, shot himself in some frenetic melancholy ! — for the Emir's miserable death is clear hitherto of other suspicion. I have asked of erudite town Arabians : " What will be awarded to such unhappy soul at the last ? " They answered, "He is for the burning ! " — In the ferment of our civil societies, from which the guardian angels seem to depart, we see many every moment sliding at the brink. What anguishes are rankling in the lees of the soul, the heart-nipping unkindness of a man's friends, his defeated endeavours ! betwixt the birth and death of the mind, what swallowing seas, and storms of mortal miseries ! And when the wildfire is in the heart and he is made mad, the incontinent hands would wreak the harm upon his own head, to blot out the abhorred illusion of the world and the desolate remembrance of himself. Succoured in the forsaken hour, when his courage swerved, with the perfume of human kindness, he might have been to-day alive. Many have looked for consolation, in the imbecility of their souls, who found perhaps hardness of face and contradiction ; they perished untimely in default of our humanity.
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Apr 23, 2018 01:31
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I posit a question Is there any form of prose worse than b-tier narrative non-fiction https://jezebel.com/the-mess-and-the-murders-1824104682 quote:I’ve memorized most of the jurors’ faces. There was the woman I swear I’ve met before, with long brown hair and dreamy, longing eyes like those of a 16-year-old singing a song she wrote about her life. There was the woman who reminded me of a sad cat. There was the woman who stuffed Kleenex into her long sleeves, letting the tissues hang out a bit for easier access I suppose. The woman with a butch silver haircut and never any makeup. The Southerner who wore a blanket sometimes.
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Apr 23, 2018 14:53
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Mel Mudkiper posted:I posit a question http://tinymixtapes.com/music-review/impossible-nothing-taxemenomicon posted:Amazingly few discotheques provide jukeboxes. But jiving alone quits the party oxygen; the atonal zap of democracy won’t gently caress up your dharma. Can’t you let the speakers blow out to cute, kind, jovial, foxy physiques — amazing beauties? Does the dancefloor apocalypse prefer to quiver cozy in your head, maxing out your broken jaw instead? Every memorized fixation has been quoted and packed into sweltering conjugations, though; nothing is secret about your secret language. Forget about book or video quizzes, too — no chance you’d judge the answers for sample exposition. Gone are the black foxtrot days of the wizard queen’s toxic Java hemp. http://tinymixtapes.com/music-review/graham-kartna-ideation-deluxe posted:after Lydia Davis
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Apr 23, 2018 15:20
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Yes. There is a ton to pick on in journalistic reporting. Tiny Mix Tapes is definitely egregious. There's a style in games writing that is so sappy and manipulative, where the author takes something in the game and tries to amplify it out of a games context to be like "this is the primal rage that our savage human ancestors must have felt upon running from a rhino, or clubbing a brother in the skull while his eyes watch every moment of it." ugh. I'll try and remember to bring some into this thread next time I encounter it.
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Apr 23, 2018 15:24
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This went over the character limit, so it's getting its own post.http://tinymixtapes.com/music-review/-65298-65304-65297-65300---26032-12375-12356-26085-12398-35477-29983 posted:Forget the functional music aspect of 新しい日の誕生 by ２８１４; dosing a cocktail of DXM, spliff, Gray Goose, and duster; the shower scene beams light from the blinds in rays of steam at 2:30 PM on a Saturday — nobody is home. Warm water trickling down like urine, and spinal fluids and nerves are less busted than they have been well-exerted today, accomplishing a to-do list of chores, though not having finished them all. And probably won’t. The smell of Astroglide haunts the living-room sofa, and ２８１４ swarms within riddled baselines dubbed to the suds circling the shower drain, draining the last bits of filth into a pipe that leads to a different story all together. But the blur-screen still emanates a red-face grasping for air with spiked heels emerging from a fishnet and a lot of darkness and shade, while color remains starkly prominent. Edit: One more, just 'cause I love you guys that much. http://tinymixtapes.com/music-review/sophie-product posted:Belligerent puts the [cis] in survival. What are the three rules of marketing? SEO it: human necessity, appeal to need and a reason to negate the Oxford comma; need, want, entice. It's like talking to someone as if they're selling you their life story. Or it's one of those confession cams from a reality TV show based on a “true story, bro” doc involving an eye witness hired to listen to your tell-all. Ｓｔａｔｕｓ ｕｐｄａｔｅｓ. It's referring to your cellphone as “touch pad,” because calling people on it hasn't happened since 2012. It's Wi-Fi, which never hurt anyone. It's realizing that Lucifer is still a good name (a.k.a. credit cards a.k.a. The Internet a.k.a. cable a.k.a. lubricant a.k.a. lease agreements a.k.a. rental property a.k.a. S1m0ne). It's feeling manic, but it's just the music. The day they commercialize dark matter, tho. Pinnacle swag. Having nightmares. Tricking people into what's-what. Stretching within. Drinking Red Bull. Sham bam bamina! fucked around with this message at 15:35 on Apr 23, 2018 |
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Apr 23, 2018 15:29
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And nobody is allowed to smoke inside anymore. Why?
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WASDF posted:Yes. There is a ton to pick on in journalistic reporting. Tiny Mix Tapes is definitely egregious. I like the game reporting that is like "Witcher 3 made me reflect on my decisions as a father" or "Life is Strange made me wonder if I did all I could to prevent my friend's suicide" (both real) because they can only grasp significance from a game by turning it up to 11.
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Apr 23, 2018 15:31
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WASDF posted:Yes. There is a ton to pick on in journalistic reporting. Tiny Mix Tapes is definitely egregious.
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Apr 23, 2018 15:45
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Unfortunately games criticism will probably always be trash because while genre fanboys are a recent phenomenon in literary and film criticism, trying to drag down the entire endeavor with their half understood citations of Joseph Campbell, they were there in games fandom long before the critics had a chance to arrive.
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Apr 23, 2018 15:49
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Mel Mudkiper posted:I like the game reporting that is like "Witcher 3 made me reflect on my decisions as a father" or "Life is Strange made me wonder if I did all I could to prevent my friend's suicide" (both real) because they can only grasp significance from a game by turning it up to 11. https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/bjve9q/middle-earth-shadow-of-war-orc-slavery-lord-of-the-rings
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Apr 23, 2018 15:53
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Hieronymous Alloy posted:https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/bjve9q/middle-earth-shadow-of-war-orc-slavery-lord-of-the-rings I will forgive you for probating me and not even responding to my PM if you give BOTL a sixer which will override his 30 day
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Apr 23, 2018 15:57
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But, returning to the point, long-form narrative journalism is the abyss in which all failed and mediocre writers shriek for eternity, desperate for relevance Like the mix-tape stuff is bad, but its bad in that "gently caress you normie, you don't GET IT" which is just sort of a cliche sort of art school dropout bullshit. Narrative Non-fiction is worse because the writer is operating under the pretense that he is speaking to the reader from a place of humble wisdom and experience. Mel Mudkiper fucked around with this message at 16:19 on Apr 23, 2018 |
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Apr 23, 2018 16:08
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