STYLISTICS
Stylistics is a valuable if long-winded approach to criticism, and compels attention to the poem's details. Two of the three simple exercises performed here show that the poem is deficient in structure, and needs to be radically recast. The third sheds light on its content.
Introduction
Stylistics applies linguistics to literature in the hope of arriving at analyses which are more broadly based, rigorous and objective. {1} The pioneers were the Prague and Russian schools, but their approaches have been appropriated and extended in recent years by radical theory. Stylistics can be evaluative (i.e. judge the literary worth on stylistic criteria), but more commonly attempts to simply analyze and describe the workings of texts which have already been selected as noteworthy on other grounds.
Analyses can appear objective, detailed and technical, even requiring computer assistance, but some caution is needed. Linguistics is currently a battlefield of contending theories, with no settlement in sight. Many critics have no formal training in linguistics, or even proper reading, and are apt to build on theories (commonly those of Saussure or Jacobson) that are inappropriate and/or no longer accepted. Some of the commonest terms, e.g. deep structure, foregrounding, have little or no experimental support. {2} Linguistics has rather different objectives, moreover: to study languages in their entirety and generality, not their use in art forms. Stylistic excellence intelligence, originality, density and variety of verbal devices play their part in literature, but aesthetics has long recognized that other aspects are equally important: fidelity to experience, emotional shaping, significant content. Stylistics may well be popular because it regards literature as simply part of language and therefore (neglecting the aesthetic dimension) without a privileged status, which allows the literary canon to be replaced by one more politically or sociologically acceptable. {3}
Why then employ stylistics at all? Because form is important in poetry, and stylistics has the largest armoury of analytical weapons. Moreover, stylistics need not be reductive and simplistic. There is no need to embrace Jacobson's theory that poetry is characterized by the projection of the paradigmatic axis onto the syntagmatic one. {4} Nor accept Bradford's theory of a double spiral: {5} literature has too richly varied a history to be fitted into such a straitjacket. Stylistics suggests why certain devices are effective, but does not offer recipes, any more than theories of musical harmony explains away the gifts of individual composers.
Some stylistic analysis is to be found in most types of literary criticism, and differences between the traditional, New Criticism and Stylistics approaches are often matters of emphasis. Style is a term of approbation in everyday use ("that woman has style", etc.), and may be so for traditional and New Criticism. But where the first would judge a poem by reference to typical work of the period (Jacobean, Romantic, Modernist, etc.), or according to genre, the New Criticism would probably simply note the conventions, explain what was unclear to a modern audience, and then pass on to a detailed analysis in terms of verbal density, complexity, ambiguity, etc. To the Stylistic critic, however, style means simply how something is expressed, which can be studied in all language, aesthetic and non-aesthetic. {6}
Stylistics is a very technical subject, which hardly makes for engrossing, or indeed uncontentious, {7} reading. The treatment here is very simple: just the bare bones, with some references cited. Under various categories the poem is analyzed in a dry manner, the more salient indications noted, and some recommendations made in Conclusions.
Published
Examples of Stylistic Literary Criticism
G.N. Leech's A Linguistic Guide to English Poetry (1969)
Laura Brown's Alexander Pope (1985)
Roy Lewis's On Reading French Verse: A Study in Poetic Form (1982)
George Wright's Shakespeare's Metrical Art. (1988)
Richard Bradford's A Linguistic History of English Poetry (1993)
Poem
The Architects
But, as you'd expect, they are very
Impatient, the buildings, having much in them
Of the heavy surf of the North Sea, flurrying
The grit, lifting the pebbles, flinging them
With a hoarse roar against the aggregate
They are composed of the cliffs higher of course,
More burdensome, underwritten as
It were with past days overcast
And glinting, obdurate, part of the
Silicate of tough lives, distant and intricate
As the whirring bureaucrats let in
And settled with coffee in the concrete pallets,
Awaiting the post and the department meeting
Except that these do not know it, at least do not
Seem to, being busy, generally.
So perhaps it is only on those cloudless, almost
Vacuumed afternoons with tier upon tier
Of concrete like rib-bones packed above them,
And they light-headed with the blue airiness
Spinning around, and muzzy, a neuralgia
Calling at random like frail relations, a phone
Ringing in a distant office they cannot get to,
That they become attentive, or we do these
Divisions persisting, indeed what we talk about,
We, constructing these webs of buildings which,
Caulked like great whales about us, are always
Aware that some trick of the light or weather
Will dress them as friends, pleading and flailing
And fill with placid but unbearable melodies
Us in deep hinterlands of incurved glass.
© C. John Holcombe 1997
Metre
Though apparently iambic, with five stresses to the line, the metre shows many reversals and substitutions. Put at its simplest, with:
/ representing a strong stress
\ representing a weak stress
x representing no stress, and
trying to fit lines into a pentameters, we have
| - | / | x | x | x | / | - | \ | x | / | x |
| But | as | you'd | ex | pect | they | are | ve | ry | ||
| x | / | x | x | / | x | / | x | \ | x | x |
| Im | pat | ient | the | build | ings, | hav | ing | much | in | them |
| x | x | \ | x | / | x | x | \ | / | / | x x |
| Of | the | heav | y | surf | of | the | North | Sea, | flurr | ying |
| x | / | - | / | x | x | / | x | / | x | \ |
| The | grit, | lift | ing | the | pebbl | es, | fling | ing | them | |
| \ | x | / | - | / | x | \ | x | / | x | \ |
| With | a | hoarse | roar | a | gainst | the | agg | re | gate |
| x | \ | x | / | \ | x | / | / | x | x | / |
| They | are | com | posed | of, | the | cliffs | high | er | of | course |
| \ | / | x | \ | - | / | x | / | x | \ | |
| More | burd | en | some, | un | der | writ | ten | as | ||
| x | / | x | / | - | / | - | / | x | / | |
| It | were | with | past | days | o | ver | cast | |||
| x | / | x | \ | / | x | \ | - | / | x | x |
| And | glit | ter | ing, | ob | du | rate, | part | of | the | |
| - | / | x x x | / | - | / | - | / | x x | / | x x |
| Sil | icate of | tough | lives | dist | ant and | in | tricate |
| - | \ | x | / | x | / | x | \ | - | / | x |
| As | the | whir | ring | bu | reau | crats | let | in | ||
| x | / | x x | / | x | \ | x | / | x | / | x |
| And | set | tled with | cof | fee | in | the | con | crete | pal | lets |
| x | / | x x | / | x | \ | x | / | x | / | x |
| A | wait | ing the | post | and | the | de | part | ment | meet | ing |
| x | \ | x | / | \ x | / | x | x | \ | / | x |
| Ex | cept | that | these | do not | know | it, | at | least | do | not |
| - | / | x | / | x | / | x | / | x | \ | x |
| Seem | to | be | ing | bus | y | gen | ER | all | y |
| \ | x | / | x x | / | x | \ | x | / | x | / | x |
| So | per | haps | it is | on | ly | on | those | cloud | less | al | most |
| - | / | x | / | x | \ | x | / | x x | \ | / | x |
| Vac | uumed | af | ter | noons | with | ti | ER u | pon | ti | ER | |
| x | / | x | \ | / | / | - | / | x | / | x | |
| Of | con | Crete | like | rib | bones | packed | a | bove | them | ||
| x | / | \ | / | x | \ | x | / | / | x | \ | |
| And | they | light | head | ed, | with | the | blue | air | i | ness | |
| - | / | x x | / | x | / | x | \ | x | / | x x | |
| Spin | ning a | round | and | muz | zy, | a | neu | ral | gia |
| - | / | x x | / | x x | / | x | / | x x | / | |
| Cal | ling at | ran | dom like | frail | re | lat | ions a | phone | ||
| - | / | x x x | / | x | / | x x | / | x | / | x |
| Ring | ing in a | dist | ant | of | fice they | can | not | get | to | |
| x | / | x | / | x | / | x x | / | /- | \ | |
| That | they | be | come | at | ten | tive, or | we | do | these | |
| x | / | x x | / | x x | / | \ | x | / | x | / |
| Di | vis | ions per | sist | ing, in | deed | what | we | talk | a | bout |
| - | / | x | / | x x | / | x | / | x | \ | |
| We, | con | struct | ing these | webs | of | build | ings | which |
| - | / | x | / | \ | / | x | / | x x | / | x |
| Caulk | Ed | like | great | whales | a | bout | us are | al | ways | |
| x | / | x x | / | x x | / | x | / | x | ||
| A | ware | that some | trick | of the | light | or | weath | ER | ||
| \ | / | x x | / | - | / | x x | / | x | ||
| Will | dress | them as | friends | plead | ing and | flail | ing | |||
| x | / | x | / | x | \ | x | / | x x | / | x x |
| And | fill | with | plac | id | but | UN | bear | able | mel | odies |
| - | / | x | \ | - | / | x x x | / | \ | / | |
| Us | in | deep | hint | erlands of | in | curved | glass |
Poets learn to trust their senses, but even to the experienced writer these (tedious) exercises can pinpoint what the ear suspects is faulty, suggest where improvements lie, and show how the metre is making for variety, broad consistency, shaping of the argument and emotive appeal. Though other scansions are certainly possible in the lines above, the most striking feature will remain their irregularity. Many lines can only roughly be called pentameters; Lines 16 and 17 are strictly hexameters; and lines 27 and 28 are tetrameters. In fact, the lines do not read like blank verse. The rhythm is not iambic in many areas, but trochaic, and indeed insistently dactylic in lines 9 and 10, 21 and 22 and 28. Line 27 is predominantly anapaestic, and line 3 could (just) be scanned:
| x x | / x | / | x x \ | / | / | x x | |
| Of the | heavy | surf | of the North | Sea | flurr | ying |
Reflective or meditative verse is generally written in the iambic pentameter, and for good reason the benefit of past examples, readers' expectations, and because the iambic is the closest to everyday speech: flexible, unemphatic, expressing a wide range of social registers. Blank verse for the stage may be very irregular but this, predominantly, is a quiet poem, with the falling rhythms inducing a mood of reflection if not melancholy. What is being attempted?
Suppose we set out the argument (refer to rhetorical and other analyses), tabbing and reverse tabbing as the reflections as they seem more or less private: {8}
1. But, as you'd expect,
2. they are very impatient, the buildings,
3. having much in them of the heavy surf of the North Sea,
4. flurrying the grit,
5. lifting the pebbles,
6. flinging them with a hoarse roar against the aggregate they are
composed of the
7. cliffs higher of course, more
8. burdensome,
9. underwritten as it were with past days
10. overcast and glinting,
11. obdurate,
12. part of the silicate of tough lives,
13. distant and intricate as
14. the whirring bureaucrats
15. let in and settled with coffee in the concrete pallets, awaiting
the post and the department meeting
16. except that these do not know it,
17. at least do not seem to, being busy,
18. generally.
19. So perhaps it is only on those cloudless, almost vacuumed afternoons
with tier upon tier of concrete like rib bones packed above them,
and
20. they light-headed
21. with the blue airiness spinning around, and
22. muzzy, a
23. neuralgia calling at random like
24. frail relations, a
25. phone ringing in a distant office they cannot get to, that
26. They become attentive,
27. or we do
28. these divisions persisting,
29. indeed what we talk about,
30. we, constructing these webs of buildings which
31. caulked like great whales about us, are
32. always aware that some trick of the light or weather will dress
them as friends,
33. pleading and flailing and
34. fill with placid but unbearable melodies
35. us in deep hinterlands of incurved glass.
The structure should now be clear. Where Eliot created new forms by stringing together unremarkable pentameters, {8} this poem attempts the reverse: to recast an irregular ode-like structure as pentameters. And not over-successfully: many of the rhythms seemed unduly confined. But once returned to the form of an eighteenth century Pindaric ode, however unfashionable today, the lines regain a structure and integrity. Each starts with a marked stress and then tails away, a feature emphasized by the sound patterns. {9}
Sound
Patterning
To these sound patterns we now turn, adapting the International Phonetic Alphabet to HTML restrictions:
| 1. But | as | you'd | expect |
| u | a | U | e e |
| b t | z | y d | ksp kt |
| 2. They | are | very | impatient | the | buildings |
| A | a(r) | e E | i A e | e | i i |
| th | - | v r | mp sh nt | th | b ld ngz |
| 3. Having | much | in | them | of | the | heavy | surf | of | the | North | Sea |
| a i | u | i | e | o | e | e | e(r) | o | e | aw | E |
| h v ng | m ch | n | th m | v | th | h v | s f | v | th | n th | s |
| 4. flurrying | the | grit |
| u E i | e | i |
| fl r ng | th | gr t |
| 5. lifting | the | pebbles |
| i i | e | e |
| l ft ng | th | p b lz |
| 6. flinging | them | with | a | hoarse | roar |
against | the | aggregate | they | are |
composed | of |
| i i | e | i | e | aw | aw |
e A | e | a E A | A | a(r) |
o O | o |
| fl ng ng | th m | w th | - | h s | r |
g nst | th | gr g t | th | - |
k MP zd | v |
| 7. the | cliffs | higher | of | course | more |
|
e |
i |
I e |
o |
aw |
aw |
| th | kl fs | h | v | s | m |
| 8. burdensome | ||||||||||||||
| u(r) e e | ||||||||||||||
| b d ns m |
Sound in poetry is an immensely complicated and contentious subject. Of the seventeen different employments listed by Masson {10} we consider seven:
1. Structural emphasis All sections are structurally emphasized to some extent, but note the use (in decreasing hardness) of
Also:
2. Tagging of sections Note sections 1, 7, 13 and 15. 3. Indirect support of argument by related echoes
4. Illustrative mime: mouth movements apes expression
5. Illustrative painting
Most sections are closely patterned in consonants. Those which aren't (and therefore need attention if consistency is to be maintained) are perhaps 8, 9, 14, 18, 20, 22, 24, 26 and 27. Originally the poem was cast in the form of irregular pentameters.
But if this is set aside in favour of the 35 sections listed above,
how are these sections to be linked in a self-evident and pleasing form?
A little is accomplished by alliteration:
And also by the predominance of front and intermediate level vowels, but these do not amount to much. Certainly we do not find that the overall shaping of the poem emphasizes the argument or content. |
© C. John Holcombe 2007 2012 2013. Material can be freely used for non-commercial purposes if cited in the usual way.
