<p>Language evolves.</p>
<p>
I feel the opposite way.</p>
<p>The beauty in this older writing style, to me, is how it’s able to develop tone and content so subtly, and, in a sense, appeals to an instinct. The number of words seem like just the right amount of detail (then again, I’m the kind of person who tends to love detail). By using both “hearty” and “soft tones” I feel like the greeting was conveyed just right. It may not be logical, but it just seems to make sense some how, not by appealing to logic, but to something else. </p>
<p>That’s how I see it anyways. :)</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>…and lots of watching paint dry, perhaps?
I’m not seeing much “action” or “adventure” in the circumstances you described. Just more deaths and sickness, less sex and more scraping by. Not much fodder for exciting fiction. No wonder they might spend an entire chapter describing the flush of a woman’s cheeks. That would fire up a reader’s loins more than writing about withering wheat fields.</p>
<p>It must have been late autumn of that year, and probably it was towards dusk for the sake of being less conspicuous. And yet a meeting between two professional gentlemen representing the chief branches of the law should surely not need to be concealed.</p>
<p>Let us imagine, then, how Law might have waited upon Equity.</p>
<p>So begins Charles Pallisers 1990 novel The Quincunx. A modernist interpretation of the Victorian novel, it chronicles the intersecting lives of five families and a secret codicil which would confer great wealth to its claimant. Dickensian in its vast scope of English society, The Quincunx, at its core, is a mystery of murder and justice denied. Unlike the sentimentality and floridness which informs Victorian writers, Pallisers approach is clear-eyed with sharp observations about deeds and motivations. </p>
<p>A novel that spans 781 pages and 500,000 words (according to the dust jacket) is a daunting read. If your addiction to Game of Thrones or PBSs Masterpiece Theater needs to fed, I can think of no finer work of fiction to OD on </p>
<p>
</p>
<p>How does one determine how many words are “needed” in any given situation?</p>
<p>For some reason that reminds me of this exchange in the film Amadeus:</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
They don’t write music like that anymore, either. ;)</p>
<p>
Not to be confused with the [Drapes</a> of Roth](<a href=“My Son, The Folk Singer - Allan Sherman”>My Son, The Folk Singer - Allan Sherman).</p>
<p>How does one determine how many words are “needed” in any given situation?</p>
<p>I suppose that depends on your audience & your intent.</p>
<p>Look at legalese for example.
Or even a voters pamphlet.
Too often, the language obfuscates the information and you can read a proposal three times and still can’t tell if to vote yes means you are " for" or " against".</p>
<p>Favorite placard on a professor’s door:Eschew obfuscation.</p>
<p>Good example & he didn’t need a paragraph to make his point.
;)</p>