A Second Reading from the Book of John

My proposal for this class attempted to outline a thesis of sorts, much the way I might have written it during a rough draft.  I didn't copy-paste it into my original paper but I might have, which makes the errors in it more appalling.  (My actual paper, thankfully, does not seem to have this type of mistakes in it.)

Leaving aside for a moment the question of whether his claims are justified, it brings up the question of how “a new Province of Writing” might be founded.  The majority of genre scholarship that I have been able to find so far focuses on the use and adaptation of pre-existing genres; my interest at present is focused instead on the origins of new genres.  Fielding’s Tom Jones can serve as an interesting case study not merely because he stands near the beginning of the English novel, but because he frequently interrupts the plot of his novel with musings on the nature of writing, both in general and specifically with respect to genre.

The paragraph is servicable but slips into the passive voice at times when it really doesn't need to.  I also sometimes use two words where one would do, saying that "my interest at present is focused" instead of simply saying that "I am interested"; this careless wordiness stems from the fact that I was letting my verbs get lazy, as it were.  Worse, the first sentence includes an obscure agent.

Leaving aside for a moment the question of whether his claims are justified, the question arises just how “a new Province of Writing” might be founded.  The majority of genre scholarship that I have found so far focuses on the use and adaptation of pre-existing genres; I am interested in the origins of new genres.  Fielding’s Tom Jones serves as an interesting case study because Fielding frequently interrupts his novel with musings on the nature of writing, both in general and specifically with respect to genre. 

In addition to the corrections outlined above – which generally make the text tighter – I've also ditched the bit about Fielding's historical situation near the origins of the English novel because I feel that it disrupts the flow of the sentence and is probably not really all that necessary anyway.

why do girls always go for the bad verbs?

Like Sue, I complain bitterly to students about word choice, highlighting 16 instances of "is" in a paragraph and commenting briefly on "strong verbs." Or something equally hypocritical. This fall, writing my personal statement(s), I beat my wordy head against the wall of 500-700 word limits, and usually lost. Some of my excesses are style, but quite a few of them result from poor verb choice. For this exercise, I dug out the very first draft of a statement I abandoned entirely, and tried to reduce a couple sentences by way of using more precise verbs. 

OLD: It was obvious in the resulting silence that both of us were thinking the same embarrassed thought: “I thought I was talking to someone like me.” (26 words)

NEW: The resulting embarrassed silence revealed the thought in both our minds: “I thought I was talking to someone like me.” (20 words)

Cutting six words doesn't seem like a lot, but they add up. I don't need "was" or "were," and using a more explicit verb like "revealed" makes "obvious" superfluous. I toyed with leaving "same" in there, but I think the sentiment still comes through without it. 

OLD: There’s always a drive to focus on what is not work in our lives, to identify myself as a feminist, as a student, as an intellectual, as a dabbler in fiction, as anything and everything except the one thing which is absolutely necessary to my survival. (46 words)

NEW: I felt pushed to identify myself as a feminist, student, intellectual, or writer; as anything but the identity enabling all the others –my identity as a worker. (27 words)

Nineteen words is a lot. It helped that I made this statement apply directly to me, rather than everyone (who do I think I am, anyway, speaking for everyone?). Aside from that change, though, I don't need "there is" or "the one thing which is," both of which invite me to use six more words to elaborate. 

Ch.7: Choosing Verbs
• Base form (infinitive)
• Present tense
• Past tense (-ed)
• Past participle (-en)
• Present Participle (-ing)
I always have trouble with passive voice, so I’d like to focus on that section of chapter 7. However being alerted to my overuse in the past has caused me to notice it more frequently when I’m writing. While reviewing my paper, I found several:

Passive: “According to Bakhtin and Harvey, it has become clear that the reader (listener) is not a static entity.”
Corrected: “According to Bakhtin and Harvey, the reader (listener) is not a static entity.”
The second sentence is much clearer and to the point. Reducing the crowded meaning and length of the sentence allows for a smoother sentence that is much easier on the reader and still gets the same point across.

Passive: “The song was first performed in 1984, however Cohen had been struggling to write the song for at least two years beforehand”
Corrected: “The song was first performed in 1984, however Cohen struggled to write the song for at least two years beforehand”
Just changing the clause in question from passive voice to a simple past tense construction makes the sentence flow better.

Ch. 8: Choosing Adverbials
Adverbial-the term that names function in a sentence.

I use the opening adverbial several times in my paper:
• In order to deconstruct this affect…
• Let’s get back to the…
• In order to further dissect this concept…
I feel that at this stage of writing, using opening adverbials not only helps to guide the reader but it helps to keep me on track as well. It also reminds me where I’ve been and where I’m headed.

I’d like to experiment with the movability of subordinate clauses.

Example: In order to deconstruct this affect [influence], it is necessary to examine some of the ways influence can be established.
Alteration #1: It is necessary to examine some of the ways influence can be established in order to deconstruct this affect.
Alteration #2: By examining some of the ways influence is established, this affect can be deconstructed.
I’m not really too fond of these changes, but there are a great deal of other options I didn’t try. Unfortunately, without the preceding sentence, most of the alterations create dangling modifiers.

It IS! It IS! Alright, already!

This is embarrassing. I scold my students to use strong verbs and to avoid the dreaded IS in their writing. In my own writing, however, I use a veritable plethora of ISes! In addition, the first sentence in my Old paragraph below contains enough prepositional phrases to stretch that sentence beyond all comprehensibility. I count eight. In one sentence. With an IS verb. I rewrote this paragraph by first highlighting all the criminal words and phrases and then found stronger verbs for the ISes. The proliferation of prepositional phrases posed a greater problem since they contain necessary information. Rewording and paying more attention to the rhythm of the sentences helped me better manage the prepositions.

OLD: Perhaps the staunchest argument against inclusion of women writers in the canon is the matter of recognizing general, historical significance in the works of those who were prevented from interacting in wide public spheres. Women’s lives were private, small, and domestic. If a woman dared to write, she was restricted to topics of household concerns and wifely duty. Aemilia Lanyer disregarded these restrictions.

NEW: The traditional literary canon refuses inclusion of women writers based on the private, historically insignificant sphere of women’s lives. If a woman before the 1960s dared to write, she adhered to topics of household concerns and wifely duties. Aemilia Lanyer disregarded these restrictions.

Getting rid of 'which' adverbials and finding new verbs.

Old:
The questions which arise on the mat—and consequently on the page—are questions which make me examine exactly how my ideas are constructed. The preconceptions and misconceptions which determine what I have to say and how I say it are at the forefront of both my writing and yoga practices. In other words, my identity is under fire when I practice (either writing or yoga). It’s become common practice in the academy to think of identity as constructed; the work of Foucault, Butler and Bhabha play an especially powerful role in establishing identity as something which is not innately given, not natural, but constructed.

New:
The questions which arise on the mat—and consequently on the page— make me examine the construction of my ideas. Preconceptions and misconceptions determine what I have to say and how I say it. Thus, when I practice either yoga or writing, my identity is targeted. It has become common practice in the academy to think of identity as constructed; Foucault, Bhabha and Butler powerfully establish identity as performance, rather than innately given individuality.

Commentary:
Kollns' advice for choosing powerful verbs and adverbials is much needed in my yoga paper--I tend to use 'which' phrases constantly as well as linking verbs. I followed Exercise 19 on page 134 of Kolln to revise the above passage. First, I highlighted all of my be verbs in pink, to think of replacements later (there are some exceptions, because there are a few cases where is was the best verb). Most of these were also in linking verb phrases and two-or-three word idioms, so I highlighted those in pink too. Next, I looked through my sentences for known/new info--the preceeding paragraph consists of my personal experience of the questioning which occurs in doing yoga, so the first sentence here refers to that known information. I'm still not happy with the second sentence; I think I was trying to say too much with extra adverbial clauses, so I took one out. Sentence three tries to make the connection between identity construction and yoga--I felt I needed to say this to keep the concepts of identity, yoga and writing at the forefront of my reader's minds. The last sentence reminds the reader of the theoretical conceptions of identity construction, which I go into more throughout the rest of the paragraph in Level 4/5 sentences. I wanted to work with the first few sentences of this paragraph here because I'm still not sure what I think about it. My words are much more concise--I replaced linking verb constructions with concrete verbs and changed some of the word choice around with the help of my Thesaurus. I couldn't think of a replacement for make in the first sentence--I don't like it, but nothing else seemed grammatically correct. Again, I'm not sure if this is better writing, but it seems more efficient.

Hedging & Proliferating by Ruth

Below is an example of confusing prepositional phrases that are, as Kolln says, “proliferating awkwardly” (153) as well as an example of “hedging” (134).

Old:
1. There is a sense of self-recognition happening in this example that gets at the way in which ideology compels the individual to become subjectified; ideology presents a narrative which seems to mirror the individual’s own inner narrative of their self.

2. While I have not been able to find specific research on this Hebrew tradition, the nature of it as it is depicted by the Wilson’s seems to clearly suggest that the box represents the “value” of the woman’s virginity being passed from her father to her husband who will subsequently “break” her box.

Revision:
1. In this example, ideology compels the individual’s subjectification through self-recognition; the ideological narrative seems to mirror the individual’s narrative of self.

2. As depicted by the Wilsons, this ritual conflates the “value” of the young woman’s virginity with the box. Thus, as the box passes from the woman’s father to her husband, he receives the father’s permission to take the daughter’s value by breaking her box.

Reflection:
1. Here I moved the prepositional phrase to the front of the sentence to change the focus to the action of ideology, rather than self-recognition. This emphasizes the proper actor of the sentence rather than stating the actor-less action first. I toyed with cutting the word “seem” here, thinking it might be an example of a modal auxiliary; however, since I later claim that this mirror image is false, I decided “seem” should stay.
2. In the past, I have had a nervous tick in writing where I included the word “seem” much more than necessary. While Kolln didn’t list “seem” in her modal auxiliaries section, I imagine it would fit in there. I removed the “seem” to make this a stronger, less “hedged” claim. I realized in this example, I didn’t need to state that I hadn’t found research about this actual tradition. I was only interested in speaking about the Wilson’s version of this tradition. While it would have been great if I had been able to find information on the Hebrew tradition, I could not; thus, my focus should have remained only on the Wilson’s claims about this tradition. Instead, this sentence locates the fault for this lack of information solely on me, rather than the Wilson’s possible misrepresentation or creation of this “tradition.”

5/23 Qualifiers, Absolute Meanings, Modal Auxiliaries, Or The Hedging Academic by Hannah

These chapters made me want to respond by raising a question of the effect of qualifiers, absolute meanings, and modal auxiliaries, or what Kolln also calls hedging and the conditional mood. These elements are interesting because it’s so hard to tell if you’re using them effectively or not.

When earlier in the quarter we were writing about enacting genre, I said: “…thinking a lot about how I demarcate and often delimit my claims….These phrases most often, however, come out of me uncontrollably. It’s like pure genre is coming out. Most of the time though, these phrases (‘it seems to me’ or ‘it seems that’) make a sentence awkward and weak. Yet, they are powerful markers of genre that just keep spilling out of me. This is a strange automatic compulsion that almost every time needs editing.”

In addition to the written word, academic speak is riddled with qualifying language; we hear “it’s like this kind of X…” or “it’s this sort of X” all the time. This sort of language is part of the discourse and as I say above I think these phrases are conventional and familiar and, thus when we find ourselves saying them, probably unconscious. But they also do some work, as Kolln notes that the condition raises doubts and “thus connect[s]” readers and writers to share doubt (134). But when do you want to raise doubt? When is raising doubt or demonstrating a lack of certainty effective and when is it not?

ONE: OLD, with modal auxiliary:
“Though I only have a few examples as yet to demonstrate this, it is my sense that in this turn to more “artistic” travelogues emerges the composite of genres in the travel volume.”

POSSIBLE New (actually very close to the next sentence in the proposal):
“Travel literature at the end of the eighteenth century and beginning of the nineteenth century is marked by composite genres and [deleted: IT SEEMS] that History of a Six Weeks’ Tour exemplifies this trend.” [here I am pretty certain that HSWT stands on its own as an example of composite genres—that I would assert. But this larger claim does really function as a tentative one, so I guess I like the work of both of these sentences]

TWO: OLD:
“It is often difficult to tell the difference between the mode of reportage and description in the journal/“History” section of History, which may be symptomatic of the rather indistinct way these genres were considered in the eighteenth century…”

POSSIBLE New:
It is difficult to tell the difference between the mode of reportage and description in the journal section of History as it is symptomatic of the indistinct way these genres were considered in the eighteenth century…

This hedging for me marks out a claim that I didn’t really believe; I let the quotation that follows this excerpt SUGGEST to me that such was the case in History. Perhaps then, (perhaps!!) attention should be paid to overly conditional or hedging statements and probed for certainty. In other words, what is certain should be marked as such. Unfortunately though, I think that rules about these verbs and adverbs stop there. It’s difficult to puzzle out when you should qualify and when you should be “strong” and certain, as both can come across effectively.

Making Hannah's Sentence do MORE

This is from a paper I just wrote for Victorian Lit. The NEW paragraph features change commentary in italics. In general, I was surprised how the awareness of the elements Kolln presents brought to bear on this small excerpt really fairly drastically changed each one.

OLD:
Indeed, Maggie repeatedly identifies this principle as the one motive for her actions. When Steven begins to put on the pressure for marriage, Maggie says to him, “Many things are difficult and dark to me—but I see one thing quite clearly—that I must not, cannot seek my own happiness by sacrificing others” (469). And as the narrative progresses, adherence to this singular principle begins to seem almost absurd. This is perhaps most exemplified in the scene in which Steven and Maggie end up on the boat together. Given her adherence to this principle, it is likely that she allowed herself to get on the boat simply because Steven wanted her to. In fact, when then commence to leave on the boat, Maggie is described as moving as though unconscious, compelled “by this stronger presence that seemed to bear her along without any act of her own will” (484).

NEW:
Maggie, indeed repeatedly, identifies this principle as the singular motive for her actions [moved the metadiscourse signal to emphasize the repetition]. When Stephen begins to put on the pressure for marriage, for example, Maggie says to him, “Many things are difficult and dark to me—but I see one thing quite clearly—that I must not, cannot seek my own happiness by sacrificing others” (469) [added metadiscourse signal to emphasize that this is just one time Maggie says this type of thing]. And as the narrative progresses, adherence to this singular principle begins to seem absurd [no change, but “adherence” is a repetition of “repeatedly”]. This absurdity [known-new contract, clearing up antecedent reference] is perhaps most exemplified in the scene in which Stephen and Maggie end up on the boat alone together, a climatic scene in which the question of Maggie’s will is most on display [tried a kind of parallelism here, repeating “a scene in which”—not sure if this one is effective or not. It may be a bit to wordy and lacking good repetition]. Given Maggie’s adherence to the principle of doing for others, it is likely that she gets on the boat simply because Stephen wants her to. Certainly, she is not asserting her own will; in fact, when they commence to leave on the boat, Maggie is described as moving as though unconscious…[again, by clearing up what “this” referred to, I offered the reader the repetition of the main focus through the paragraph. With the addition of the phrase that begins “Certainly…” I am able to generalize first and then specify with the quotation. Overall I liked the way this Kolln reading made me consider the work each sentence was doing. Focusing on the moves from sentence to sentence gave me a different impression about how cohesive my writing actually is].

This is from last year's Ropes course (yes I managed to write about Homer in a class about post 9/11 lit) and is some of my more turgid prose. The known-new contract was particularly useful in helping me decide where to end sentences (at one new point, not after several). Also really useful were the it/what clefts, which helped to emphasize the most important bits. I also made more of an effort to repeat key terms.

Original passage:
Odysseus has many honorifics in Homeric verse: “many-minded,” “much-enduring,” “cunning,” “resourceful,” “great-hearted,” but one of the least common, and most interesting, especially considering where it appears in the Odyssey, is “sacker of cities.” This epitaph is used far less frequently than any other, yet it is the one that Odysseus himself chooses to use when he reveals his true identity to the Cyclops: “'Cyclops, if any mortal man ever asks you who it was / that inflicted upon your eye this shameful blinding, / tell them that you were blinded by Odysseus, sacker of cities. / Laertes is his father, and he makes his home in Ithaca'” (9.502-4). This is a reminder that the Odyssey is not so much a text about cunning over force as it is a text about the proper marriage of cunning and force for the inscription of order. Odysseus imposes his will where he can, as when he without remorse sacks the Trojan-allied city of the Ciconians, where he and his men “killed their people, / and out of their city taking their wives and many possessions / we shared them out, so none might go cheated of his proper / portion,” and wisely retreats from where he cannot, namely every event that occurs between this sacking and the symbolic simultaneous sacking and restoration of Ithaca from the usurping suitors (9.40-3).

Revised passage:
Odysseus has many commonly repeated honorifics in Homeric verse, such as “many-minded,” “much-enduring,” “cunning,” “resourceful,” and “great-hearted.” However, the most interesting of his honorifics, because of where it appears, is the infrequently used "sacker of cities." Odysseus himself uses this rare epitaph while revealing his true identity to the Cyclops: “'Cyclops, if any mortal man ever asks you who it was / that inflicted upon your eye this shameful blinding, / tell them that you were blinded by Odysseus, sacker of cities. / Laertes is his father, and he makes his home in Ithaca'” (9.502-4). This warlike epitaph is a reminder that the Odyssey is not merely a text that elevates cunning over force. What it demonstrates is the importance of knowing whether cunning or force is most appropriate for the situation. Both cunning and force are necessary because the Odyssey is a series of encounters where both factions attempt to impose their will over the other. Odysseus does not hesitate to use force in the rare occasions in the Odyssey when force alone is sufficient to impose his will, such as when he remorselessly sacks the Trojan-allied city of the Ciconians, where he and his men “killed their people, / and out of their city taking their wives and many possessions / we shared them out, so none might go cheated of his proper / portion” (9.40-3). However, when force alone is inadequate, such as in every situation Odysseus encounters between the sacking of the Ciconians and the slaying of the suitors, he instead uses his cunning to escape before an other's will is imposed upon him.

Reader Expectation and the Known-New Contract

After reading chapter four in Kolln's Rhetorical Grammar I now realize that I have not always performed my obligations as a writer to uphold the Known-New Contract of sentence structure and paragraph organization, which I believe leads to a failure to fulfill my readers' expectations. To illustrate this point, here is a short piece from a paper I wrote about Ian McEwan's Saturday:

Only Daisy is subject to this scrutinization of talent. Theo’s talents are well established throughout the novel. With the first introduction of Theo’s character, his talent is introduced and substantiated by the statement that in the “gossipy world of British blues, Theo is spoken of as a man of promise, already mature in his grasp of the idiom, who might one day walk with the gods” (McEwan 26). Not only can Henry say through his own evaluation that Theo is a talented blues musician, but he recalls the opinions of those in the British blues circle to solidify his own judgments.

When my readers begin to read this paragraph, they would probably expect to read in the next sentence something about Daisy's talent being scrutinized. Instead, I move to talk about another character. This is probably awkward for my reader, especially since I have not established any known information in this second sentence. I make this same mistake again when I Do not mention that it is yet another character, Henry, that I am referring as the scrutinizer. Henry's name just appears in the last sentence with no real explanation and certainly no known information. I think a better way to write this passage would be:

Though Daisy's talent is subject to scrutiny throughout the novel, her brother Theo's talent is never questioned. Theo's talents are well established throughout the novel through both the musings of his father Henry and the opinions of members of the British blues community. With the first introduction of Theo’s character, his talent is introduced and substantiated by the statement that in the “gossipy world of British blues, Theo is spoken of as a man of promise, already mature in his grasp of the idiom, who might one day walk with the gods” (McEwan 26). The positive opinions about Theo in the blues community allows Henry to conclude that his son is indeed a great talent, saving Theo from a scrutinizing of his musical talent.

In this version of the passage, I think it is much clearer what I am trying to convey to my readers. Because I have fulfilled the Known-New Contract more completely in the revision, the passage is less awkward and more cohesive.