The latest from FountainSiren

<p>thanks! there it is. I didn’t carefully read throught the entire thread… here, let’s start a new page! :)</p>

<p>Can someone help me out? I am unable to open either link on this thread. And when I Google Dartmouth Review or try dartreview.com, I also get nowhere? Any idea what’s wrong?</p>

<p>JmMom…I had that same problem for days. I could not get the links to open, nor the website when I looked for it directly. I could not understand why. I tried it with various servers. Then, voila, a couple days later, I got it to open. I have no idea the problem so I can’t help ya but only to say, “me, too.” :D</p>

<p>Razorsharp, I very much agree with you. I also found this difficult to read with too much detail and verbage. Don’t get me wrong, she obviously has an exellent command of the english language. But being a writer myself, I believe that an editor would do her a lot of good and assist with when to be so “fluffy”, and when to tone it down. It is refreshing however to see a student that has the ability to write.</p>

<p>jmmom-
sometimes when posts get re-posted, the vB code gets duplicated, and special effects such as hyperlinks, italics, bold, etc. then don’t work. However, the links are still working for me, and that wouldn’t explain why you’re unable to get to dartreview.com either. Perhaps you and Susan were experiencing a similar localized small-town New England glitch—or maybe the Dartmouth Review was!</p>

<p>Do editors rein in the propensity to use “exellent verbage?”</p>

<p>Good editors will know the audience for which the writer is targeting their work, and will know how to craft a piece to best appeal to that audience. Depending whether the writer’s intention is to communicate something quickly and clearly to a wide audience, or impress and tickle a focused set readers with verbal gymnastics, a different style would be appropriate, and a good editor would be able to retain the best stylistic elements while eliminating verbal clutter.</p>

<p>Mootmom raises a good point. People who enjoy George Will and William F. Buckley relish the mental and physical workout (from lifting those heavy dictionaries) they get from reading their work. The Dartmouth Review is more of a commentary publication than the Daily Dartmouth, and is, as such, more appropriate for verbal gymnastics. Everyone benefits from a good editor, though.</p>

<p>Do editors rein in the propensity to use “exellent verbage?”</p>

<p>Familiar with Raymond Carver?
poetic short stories-but his editor had to use a heavy hand .I think the newyorker once published an unedited version of a story to illustrate just how much needed to be cut out to result in the minimalist style we associate with Carver</p>

<p>Here’s my take. FS is still young, and she is smart. I think she is off to a fantastic start and that her writing will evolve. I predict that her writing will become more elegant as she gets older. She is very talented and has a college kid’s desire to try and get every idea/reference/metaphor/stunning word choice, etc. packed into each piece she writes. It’s kind of like a too rich dessert right now. Take a few ingredients out and it will be better for it. I really think she’ll get it.</p>

<p>Now, that wasn’t mean, was it? (trying to be good here!)</p>

<p>Her natural style, when she posts here and doesn’t overwork her ideas is pretty darn good and readable.</p>

<p>Yes, it’s all in the audience. My concern would be that a high school student, having snuck into the parent’s lounge, will read the gushing praise for the writing in question, follow the link, and think: “That’s how I should write.” That would not really be a good thing - and I’m not just saying that because I’m a mean old man consumed with political rage who wants to pick on a little girl. :wink: The circumstances in which the style of the Shakespeare essay is appropriate are limited to a fairly small set of audiences. Take this sentence:</p>

<p>“Fine-spun from the black lines of the page, the author slowly twists the kaleidoscope of Elizabethan England while iridescent images of the young Shakespeare spill across the droll backdrop of Stratford-upon-Avon, over the enchanted wood of Arden Forest, over sepia replicas of an anxious Elizabethan England gone to war with Spain, France, and Ireland, and most importantly, over the tender verdure of what it was, and will be, to be English, the language of her literary realm.” 77 words, 10 commas. No, Strunk and White would not approve.</p>

<p>But feel the cadence! It’s got a beat - you can dance to it. And stick your nose down into that literary wine glass, breathe deep, then roll the words around in the back of your mouth. Follow the theme - black lines, iridescent images, sepia replicas, tender verdure - gotta love it. As a literary confection, it’s a treat.</p>

<p>On the third hand - class, listen up - everyone who thinks they know what the last part of that sentence means, raise your hand. Hmmmm? OK - those of you who raised your hands, go back and reread it. Still think you know what’s being said there? Xiggi? Anyone?</p>

<p>So who is the target audience? Not Joe Reader, your everyman recipient of the Dartmouth Review, who might be interested in reading the darn book and is looking for information relevant to that determination. It’s really not much help to Joe - but then, it’s not published for him. You have three groups that the Review is targeting by publishing this piece:

  1. Word candy junkies, who just want to party. (a pretty small crowd.)<br>
  2. People who already have an opinion which involves Shakespeare, Marx and Freud at the same time. (another small crowd.)
  3. People who want other people to think they might belong to groups 1 and/or 2, and are willing to make the effort to hang out where those other guys are so it looks like they do, even if they spaced out after the third paragraph. (A much larger group.) </p>

<p>For those target audiences, the writing is outstanding. As for Joe Reader, he’s invited to dive into the MLK Day essay - he’ll enjoy himself. And any high school students who wandered in and stayed this long - the second essay is closer to the style you want for your college applications. It’s both well written and accessible to a general audience. (And let me second mstee: FountainSiren’s natural style, when she posts here and doesn’t overwork her ideas is pretty darn good and readable. But a little more Elements of Style influence wouldn’t hurt.)</p>

<p>That is what I was trying to say, but didn’t have the patience. Imagine that.</p>

<p>I agree, FS has a very stylized way of writing, and it is almost like poetry. And, I suspect, she was writing ala the style of the author and the author’s subject. </p>

<p>As for the last line, I was confused because the subject of the sentence was unclear to me. But then, I am a simpleton. The words were beautiful and the imaginary lovely. I, me, myself, as a reader got a bit lost in the prose.</p>

<p>Wow! FS was right on target when she said there were many fine writers here on cc. Check out the imagery,

</p>

<p>So there, I give you a critique of a critique of a critique. silly, no?</p>

<p>Kluge, thank you for a well-balanced analysis. </p>

<p>Since you mention my little name, allow me to pipe in. </p>

<p>First of all, I read the article twice: one at my usual speed and then at a decidely slower pace. I felt the slower pace was needed to understand the writing a bit better and to start linking the multiple vignettes. I also felt that the writing deserved a modicum of efforts on my parts to reward the author for what appeared a monumental tour de force. </p>

<p>Speaking of the style … while it is not my preferred style, it works in this situation and context. Styles are by definition malleable and I felt that the piece, by targeting an audience well beyond my current capabilities, did provide a challenge. </p>

<p>I’ll lso answer Kluge’s query, “On the third hand - class, listen up - everyone who thinks they know what the last part of that sentence means, raise your hand. Hmmmm? OK - those of you who raised your hands, go back and reread it. Still think you know what’s being said there? Xiggi? Anyone?” </p>

<p>I do plead guilty to have been able to negotiate this literary curve at the first pass, and this for the simplest of reasons: the imagery appealed to me and my developing passion for merging photography and words. After all, I am person who has taped a few of Jimmy Roberts’s newscasts to listen to the words while trying to imagine the scenery or epic athletic battles he describes so well. *Listening * to the narration of Lance Arnstrong’s exploits at the Tour de France is quite a visual treat, if that makes sense! </p>

<p>On the issue of simplicity, anyone famliar with college essay’s critical -and brutal- reviews knows that I loathe the use of a florid style. Maybe some of you remember the adjectives I used to describe the “recommended” essays at the Connecticut College. Fabio-esque purple writing was one crudely chosen epithet! I do not think it constitutes a glorious endorsement of the style … and the school’s English department. </p>

<p>While I prefer directness -what a surprise- and simplicity, I do admire different styles in different situations. In this regard, despite its prominence in the quotation tally, I do find Strunk and White outdated and overly prescriptive, filled with “static abstractions” and definite-sounding yet empty edicts. It’s advice is basic in nature and overly traditional. Hard words to write for an avowed conservative! </p>

<p>At the end of the day, and despite paying some heed to the negative opinions expressed in the “earlier” version of this thread, I still see the article as an amazing performance. Maybe, not for the average reader but for whom I see as readers of a classical literary magazine. Its biggest contribution to THIS reader was a clear demonstration that some of my peers have a much better command of english than I could dream of, and are able to use words and literary devices as a painter would combine paint, brushes, and canvas to compose an illuminating masterpiece. </p>

<p>If this masterprice takes the form of Pollock or Rivera does not really matter. It attempted to challenge our minds and play with our emotions. And from the past discussions, it succeded brilliantly!</p>

<p>Thanks for reading this unedited text. Runnnnning out of time!</p>

<p>Ay, but Xiggi - there’s the rub: I thought I got the whole “tender verdure” thing when I first read it, too. It wasn’t until I went back - because I particularly liked that segment as a whole on artistic grounds - that I did a double take. “…the tender verdure of what it was, and will be, to be English, the language of her literary realm.” (Cue sound of needle scratching across a record.) I’m going out on a limb, here, but I think that either that part of this sentence has a typo, or it was garbled somehow in the editing/rewriting process in a way that escaped notice because after all the words and commas and impressionistic imagery everyone who was editing it just sort of lost track of where it was going. </p>

<p>But maybe I’m wrong. Lord knows it’s happened before. If you tracked that literary curve, Xiggi, maybe you can retrace your steps and tell me where this sentence went after the war with Ireland. (I don’t want to ask FountainSiren - that’d be cheating.)</p>

<p>"Fine-spun from the black lines of the page, the author slowly twists the kaleidoscope of Elizabethan England while iridescent images of the young Shakespeare spill across the droll backdrop of Stratford-upon-Avon, over the enchanted wood of Arden Forest, over sepia replicas of an anxious Elizabethan England gone to war with Spain, France, and Ireland, and most importantly, over the tender verdure of what it was, and will be, to be English, the language of her literary realm.” </p>

<p>Simplified:</p>

<p>“The author twists the kaleidoscope of Elizabethan England while images of Shakespeare spill across… , over… , over… , and over… what it was to be English.”</p>

<p>She forgot that the primary purpose of writing is to communicate thought.</p>

<p>She’s still a student, right? She needs a good teacher who will act both as a coach to help her develop her unique voice and as a ruthless editor who will help her break the bad habits she’s been allowed to slip into (e.g., commentary about a book is supposed to be about the book and not the commentator; and I seriously doubt she meant that the author was “fine-spun from the black lines of the page”), probably by well-meaning English teachers who were cowed by her facility with language.</p>

<p>I hope she finds that teacher. She’s very talented.</p>

<p>I’m reading the Ackroyd book on Shakespeare now; consider the following passage:

And then imagine being a college freshman reading this very long, very Brit, book over your very short winter break, and having a review written by the time you got back–early January–on deadline. You’d begin to sound a bit like your subject author too. :)</p>

<p>There are plenty of folks providing FS with advice, I’m sure. By the time she bursts forth with her first national piece, I predict she’ll appear to have emerged perfect and fully-formed, like Botticelli’s *Venus<a href=“with%20more%20clothes,%20hopefully”>/i</a>.</p>

<p>Mudders-Mudder, thank you…I thought it was just me who was lost in that sentence</p>

<p>You “cleared” up my confusion by showing me I wasn’t that confused</p>

<p>It is tough to edit ones own work, after awhile the eyes start to blur. That is why it is important to have another really take a critical and editoral eye to the piece.</p>

<p>FS invidiual and powerful voice will find itself with time, age, and worldy experiences and exposure.</p>

<p>With respect, driver, Ackroyd’s long sentence is perfectly readable. FS’s long sentence is hard work. There are too many florid flights of fancy–even for a literary magazine. Still, good on her for giving it a go. Big “Atta Girl!” for the effort. I hope she keeps it up. She’ll get the structure thing sorted.</p>

<p>I wouldn’t have had the nerve to publish at that age. Paintings and architecture, yes. Writing, no.</p>

<p>…given time she may even rise to the lofty abilities manifest by her earnest, soft-hearted, and deeply overwrought critics. Lol</p>

<p>Couldn’t disagree more with the posts #36, 38—except in saying, all writers improve with time and effort (well, maybe not all). I enjoyed her article very much and was untroubled by the style, in fact, I felt enriched and enlivened by it. And yet, I doubt any member of cc has been so tirelessly and ‘sympathetically’ derided and pilloried as this young stylized freshmen. If I’m wrong, I’d be interested in seeing who would make up such a rogue’s gallery of vindictive posters (though, per instructions, most have taken a bit off their swing during their second at-bat).</p>

<p>I liked Kluge’s redaction above and found it very illuminating (I also agree with NJres: well written, Kluge…I would go so far as to say it was Fountainesq). </p>

<p>

Perfect!</p>