Handcopy Exercise:
Please copy the following
passage out in your best handwriting.
Take some time to do this, thinking about what you are copying as you
write. What is this author doing that
you might imitate? What is this author
saying that you might find a useful idea?
Any one may mouth out a
passage with a theatrical cadence, or get upon stilts to tell his thoughts; but
to write or speak with propriety and simplicity is a more difficult task. Thus it is easy to affect a pompous style,
to use a word twice as big as the thing you want to express: it is not so easy to pitch upon the very
word that exactly fits it. Out of eight
or ten words equally common, equally intelligible, with nearly equal
pretensions, it is a matter of some nicety and discrimination to pick out the
very one, the preferableness of which is scarcely perceptible, but
decisive. The reason why I object to
Dr. Johnson’s style is that there is no discrimination, no selection, no
variety in it. He uses none but “tall,
opaque words,” taken from the “first row of the rubric” – words with the
greatest number of syllables, or Latin phrases with merely English
terminations. If a fine style depended
on this sort of arbitrary pretension, it would be fair to judge of an author’s
elegance by the measurement of his words, and the substitution of foreign
circumlocutions (with no precise associations) for the mother-tongue. How simple it is to be dignified without
ease, to be pompous without meaning!
Surely, it is but a mechanical rule for avoiding what is low to be
always pedantic and affected. It is
clear you cannot use a vulgar English word, if you never use a common English
word at all. A fine tact is shewn in adhering
to those which are perfectly common, and yet never falling into any expressions
which are debased by disgusting circumstances, or which owe their significance
and point to technical or professional allusions. A truly natural or familiar style can never be quaint or vulgar,
for this reason, that it is of universal force and applicability, and that
quaintness and vulgarity arise out of the immediate connection of certain words
with coarse and disagreeable, or with confined, ideas.
--
William Hazlitt
From
“On Familiar Style,” 1821