The Compounds (and compound-complexes) of Style

Perhaps you believe in the soul. Perhaps you don’t, and only view a living being as a series of biological functions acting in concert.  Under either philosophy, you will view a dead body as different from a living person.  All of the physical components are there, but the core of the individual is gone.

At this point, I could easily segue off into a review of Conjure Wife.  Instead, I want to focus on a different book, one that may be one of the most effective learning tools I’ve encountered this year.  The title is Horror’s Classic Masters Remastered (volume 1), and it was produced in 2006.

This book, at first glance, is no different from dozens of others.  It gathers classic (all conveniently in the public domain) stories from famous authors.  You’ve all seen the writers included: Poe, Stoker, M.R. James, Bierce, Hodgson and more.  Where this book differs is in its presentation.

According to the editor’s introduction, he “did not set out to rewrite anything.”  His “intent was to ‘translate’ these stories for today’s readers.”

I’ll admit, my first instinct was to avoid the book as I would a horrific traffic accident.  That impulse was magnified when I realized that the altered stories were being presented under the author’s names alone; not “translated by….,” but merely attributed.  Any neophyte reading the book without reading the introduction (a common occurrence, in my experience) might plausibly believe that these stories were being presented accurately.

Upon reflection, however, I had to mitigate my initial reaction.  The notion of translating work from archaic languages is neither new nor abhorrent; nor is translation from one living language to another.

What bothered me, instead, was the implication of incompetence from the reader.  The stories aren’t reconstructed with a seventh-grade reading level in mind; they’re not intentionally insulting.  The stories are structured instead for a high school freshman or sophomore.

The reason is ostensibly due to the archaic style of the writing; I cannot disagree more.  The true reason seems to be due to the complexity of the language, which is something entirely different.  It is easy to imagine this editor “translating” the works of Thomas Ligotti or Brian McNaughton.

This, however, leads to what I believe is the true value of the book.  It is intended to draw the casual reader into an interest in the classics; that is a fool’s errand.  If a potential reader isn’t willing to expand his or her vocabulary on the (actually relatively rare) instances when the stories of Poe and Hodgson toss them an unfamiliar word, they’re not going to be able to read any of the author’s “untranslated” works anyway.  They’d be served as well… arguably better… to simply watch an old movie or episode of Night Gallery featuring the story in question, with the understanding that they’re not getting the full flavor of the tale.

The true value lies in its aid to writers.  This book, combined with the original tales, provides a magnificent illustration in how to make successful stories NOT work.  The tales in this collection are dead bodies; the basic storylines still exist, and they are immediately recognizable.  The energy which animated the stories, however, has been completely eradicated. “The Mezzotint” is still a horror story, and it is a fairly effective piece, but it is no longer a M.R. James story nor is what remains a classic.

I’ll give some examples; the original first, followed by the “remastered” version:

“During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country, and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.  I know not how it was – but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit.  I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible.” – The Fall of the House of Usher, by Edgar Allan Poe.

“It was a dull, dark, autumn day.  The clouds hung oppressively low.  I rode alone, on horseback.  At length I found myself, as the evening drew near, within sight of the melancholy House of Usher.  I do not know why, but at my first glimpse of the building, I felt a sense of terrible gloom.” – as “remastered”

“In response to Carnacki’s usual card of invitation to have dinner and listen to a story, I arrived promptly at 427, Cheyne Walk, to find the three others who were always invited to these happy little times, there before me.  Five minutes later, Carnacki, Arkright, Jessop, Taylor, and I were all engaged in the “pleasant occupation” of dining.

“You‘ve not been long away, this time,” I remarked, as I finished my soup; forgetting momentarily Carnacki‘s dislike of being asked even to skirt the borders of his story until such time as he was ready.  Then he would not stint words.”- The Gateway of the Monster, by William Hope Hodgson.

“I arrived at my friend Carnacki’s house, ready to have dinner and listen to his latest story.  I had known him for years, and Thomas Carnacki – the famous ghost investigator – never failed to entertain.  Three others who were always invited to these happy little times had gotten there before me.  Five minutes later, Carnacki, Arkright, Jessop, Taylor and I were all engaged in a pleasant dinner.

“Your latest case didn’t last very long,” I remarked, as I finished my soup.” – as “remastered”

……………….

On occasion, through workshops with colleagues, special editions of classic books, and sometimes even first readers to professional friends, people get the opportunity to see a story grow from a rough draft to a polished work.  Much can be learned by observing the process.  This takes it further, changing a polished work into another polished, but lesser, work…. Taking a cut of high-grade prime rib and using it as taco meat.

Toward the beginning of the year, Brian Hodge recommended to all authors that they spend some time investigating nonfiction books on writing.  In appreciation of his return, I thought I’d focus on this title and the benefit it can provide to anyone trying to wrap their head around the ephemeral definition of “style”.