Thursday, June 4, 2009

Indian Jugglers and Commentary on the Act of Writing: On Table-Talk

Maybe I’m not going to wholly embrace anything we’re reading this summer. I felt very similar about the Hazlitt as I did about Montaigne: Some of it was really engaging and great, and some of it I only felt myself slogging through because I felt like I had to. (All that writing to examine “whether actors ought to sit in the boxes”? Really??) I got some value out of the readings for sure, but I think I found myself just so much more into certain essays than others.

Jugglers

Essay IX: The Indian Jugglers was one of the essays I really dug. From the introduction (which I’ll discuss below) through the whole essay, it’s both entertaining and insightful. I also really liked the description he uses in this essay. Sentences like, “When I saw the Indian Juggler do the same things before, his feet were bare, and he had large rings on the toes, which kept turning round the time of the performance, as if they moved of themselves,” are simply lovely and vivid.

This particular essay also included some of my favorite lines from the whole book. I really liked, “Danger is a good teacher, and makes apt scholars. So are disgrace, defeat, exposure to immediate scorn and laughter.”  (In another essay, I particularly liked “To succeed, a man should aim only at success”—apparently I’m okay with triteness if it’s 200 years old?)

Something else I noticed in this essay that was particularly well done were the outside examples he used: “A mathematician who solves a profound problem, a poet who creates an image of beauty in the mind that was not there before, imparts knowledge and power to others . . .” In my own writing, I always find myself hesitating to pull in metaphors/similes and it’s great to read them interspersed so seamlessly.

Introducing . . .

Another thing I really took note of in Hazlitt’s work was his introductions—so well done most of the time. A few choice intros:

·      From the Indian Jugglers: “Coming forward and seating himself on the ground in his white dress and tightened turban, the chief of the Indian Jugglers begins with tossing up two brass balls, which is what any of us could do, and concludes with keeping up four at the same time, which is what none of us could do to save our lives, nor if we were to take our whole lives to do it in.” Just great stuff—great imagery, great connection to the reader, etc.

·      From On Living to One’s-Self: Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow… I never was in a better place or humour than I am at present for writing on this subject. I have a partridge getting ready for my supper, my fire is blazing on the hearth, the air is mild for the season of the year, I have had but a slight fit of indigestion to-day (the only thing that makes me abhor myself)…”
This is a really personal lead-in regarding his immediate life. This almost reads like a blog or a Facebook status.
William Hazlitt only had minor digestion issues today.

·      From On Will-Making: “Few things show the human character in a more ridiculous light than the circumstance of will-making. It is the latest opportunity we have of exercising the natural perversity of the disposition, and we take care to make a good use of it. We husband it with jealousy, put it off as long as we can, and then use every precaution that the world shall be no gainer by our deaths. This last act of our lives seldom belies the former tenor of them for stupidity, caprice, and unmeaning spite . . . I have heard of an instance of one person who, having a feeling of this kind on his mind, and being teased into making his will by those about him, actually fell ill with pure apprehension, and thought he was going to die in good earnest…” This whole thing sounds as though it could have been written, verbatim, in current times. He starts out by relating the topic at hand directly to the reader, and then moves into an example, in order to ease us into deeper discussion. Really well done.

·      From On Going A Journey: “One of the pleasantest things in the world is going on a journey; but I like to go by myself.” This was just very catchy to me, and a great start.

·      “Corporate bodies have no soul.” !! (From On Corporate Bodies)

·      Hazlitt also used quotes to open a few essays, and this is really interesting to me. I’ve considered doing it myself but it kind of seems like a cop out. Thoughts? Do any of you ever do this? I feel like I love it when I read it elsewhere, but can’t get it to seem un-cheesy in my own work.

·      One last really great intro, from Why Distant Objects Please: “Distant objects please, because, in the first place, they imply an idea of space and magnitude, and because, not being obtruded too close upon the eye, we clothe them with the indistinct and airy colours of fancy. In looking at the misty mountain-tops that bound the horizon, the mind is as it were conscious of al the conceivable objects and interests that lie between; we imagine all sorts of adventures in the interim . . . “

I feel like I could really do with reading more and more essays with catchy/interesting introductions—it’s something I really struggle with—so these were particularly cool and helpful for me.

Style

Some notes on style, in terms of to using his writing as a model:

·      When I started really looking at Hazlitt’s style I found an odd discrepancy: He’s super readable on the sentence level (more so that I find in many writers), but not at all on the paragraph level. They just go on and on. Oddly, though, I didn’t notice until a few essays in that the paragraphs were so long. I knew I was finding myself getting a bit bored, but it wasn’t until I really started flipping around, looking at paragraph length, that I noticed how outrageously long some are (a few pages long in sections). I find it odd and interesting that he is so succinct and clear in almost every single sentence, and yet together the sentences often seem (to me) a bit unclear.

·      I liked how personal Hazlitt was able to make most of his essays, despite their “impersonal” topics in many cases. In the essay on Milton’s sonnets, he even notes this emphasis in others, stating that the elements of the personal are, “Compared with Paradise Lost, they are like tender flowers that adorn the base of some proud column or stately temple."

Hazlitt really uses some line breaks like poetry in places, but certainly not everywhere—really interesting. Did anyone else notice this in On Going A Journey? I actually liked almost everything about this one. He still seemed to veer off here and there, but I was able—and very willing—to follow him. He speaks very honestly about himself, and it’s funny as well: “Now I never quarrel with myself, and take all my own conclusions for granted till I find it necessary to defend them against objections…”

·      I won’t go into more quoting and such, but I do want to recommend the essay On Familiar Style if any of you are picking and choosing what to read from Hazlitt. It was an essay on writing, essentially, and talks at least a little bit about his casual style—how it requires more precision, etc. He also compares himself to his contemporaries and defends himself, generically, to some of his critics. Really interesting piece about writing as an art.

Other Notes

Finally, just out of curiosity, was the physical book you all bought really strange? Mine has no title page, and has this almost cartoonish cover font, and is very old-school in terms of typesetting (two spaces after periods, etc.). What kind of book doesn’t have a title page? And, it was outrageously expensive!

Anyway, onward and upward. I got the two (physically) heavy books out of the way and I’m leaving for South America tomorrow, so it will likely be a while before I post again—but I’m thrilled not have to carry these two with me!

Hope all is well.

Jessica

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