For next Wednesday, copy a full-page article, such as an editorial (for example, from an on-line newspaper) and then try to reduce the amount of words used, while keeping the essential ideas. The key word here is "essential" (see models below).
Due 20 JUNE 2007
A related question is how a summary is different from an epitome. A summary would have higher levels of generality and would digest with little reference to specifics or style: "You owe a debt to your country." Of course the main point of reduction is lost since in this case the summary might actually be longer than the epitome! But this is just an example.
Now here are two articles. One is on Iraq; the other on Afro-American issues, with two epitomes. These are for your study:
The challenge we face is brilliantly addressed by Mark Helprin of the Claremont Institute in the current issue of the Claremont Review of Books. What he tells us is something we know simply by looking hard at the scene in the Middle East and staring down into the Axis of Evil pool, where the long shadow of China can, however faintly, be discerned.
What Mr. Helprin reminds us is that in fact we are at war against terrorism and that the appropriate mobilization to fight such a war is a whole dreamland away. Since launching the war in Iraq, we have conquered Baghdad and deposed Saddam.
In the 18 months since the war began, we have every day faced many problems. There are more terrorists today than there were a year ago. The mobilization of terrorist enclaves continues. The looming presence in the Middle East isn't the U.S. military; it is an Iran that seems to be engaged in a contest with North Korea as to which nation can more quickly attain nuclear weaponry.
Mr. Helprin begins with a postulate, which is that the United States has the resources to fight back. But to do this requires a huge investment in military and paramilitary enterprises. The good news is that we have the means; the bad news is that sacrifices will be needed, and, above all, the will.
Helprin gives us an economic perspective. The United States produces about $11 trillion worth of goods and services annually. We allocate $400 billion to military spending. That amounts to 3.6 percent of the gross domestic product (GDP (news - web sites)). By contrast, during the peacetime years between 1940 and 2000, we spent 5.7 percent of the GDP on defense. In the war years, we spent 13.3 percent on defense. By the last years of World War II, we were spending, on the military, as much as 38.5 percent of the GDP.
To put the same level of effort into the war on terrorism that we put into World War II, we would need, for military spending, $4.2 trillion. That's 10 times the existing budget.
How to deploy such a force? Mr. Helprin addresses the question of Iran. "The sure way to strip Iran of its nuclear potential would be clear: issuance of an ultimatum stating that we will not allow a terrorist state, the legislature of which chants like a robot for our demise, to possess nuclear weapons."
Mark Helprin, in the current Claremont Review of Books, claims the war in Iraq is being fought badly. In his view, there are more terrorists now than since the war began, and movement among terrorist groups continues. Ironically, the US presence in the Middle East is less obvious than an Iran with nuclear goals.
But Helprin insists we can fight back, with commitment and will.
Helprin views the issue in economic perspective. To reach economic parity with American spending during World War II, we need to spend 4.2 trillion dollars instead of the 400 billion we spend now.
But the cost would be worth it, according to Helprin. It would allow the US military to pressure Iran from fulfilling its nuclear goals.
Cynthia Tucker
(Complete Article)
Across the country, middle-class black Americans are applauding comedian Bill Cosby's insistent campaign to draw attention to the bad habits and poor choices that limit black achievement. There has been little disagreement about his main points -- that drug use, poor classroom performance and the embrace of outlaw culture have done nothing but cement the black underclass at the bottom of American society. An ethic that dismisses serious scholarship as "a white thing" has handicapped middle-class black kids, too.
In early September, Cosby spoke at a Washington forum sponsored by the Congressional Black Caucus (news - web sites) Foundation, where he criticized parents who allow their children to be "managed with a cell phone" and who don't keep up with their children's schoolwork. According to published reports, his remarks were warmly received. After the forum, Al Sharpton (news - web sites) credited Cosby with creating a "sea change" by speaking out publicly on a previously taboo topic.
There is plenty of precedent for Cosby's plain-spokenness. Throughout the first half of the 20th century, accomplished blacks routinely policed the behavior of their less-polished brethren, urging thrift, moderation, tidiness. (Much of that conversation, however, went unnoticed by white America.)
It was only during the 1960s, when civil rights legislation was gaining traction, that the black intelligentsia clamped down on any public acknowledgment of black dysfunction. Civil rights leaders believed any admission of black failure would damage the movement. A later generation of "black power" activists denounced any black critic of black failure as a race traitor.
Already, black immigrants are challenging native-born black students for prestigious slots in Ivy League schools. In June, according to The New York Times, several prominent black academics pointed out that about two-thirds of Harvard University's black undergraduates are black immigrants, children of immigrants or children of biracial marriages. Researchers studying black enrollment at several other exclusive schools, including Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania, report that about 41 percent of their black students fit the same demographic profile.
It's no great surprise that immigrants and their children do well. Regardless of national origin, immigrants tend to be resourceful strivers.
But black parents ought to note this, as well: The success of black immigrants strongly suggests that race is no great barrier to achievement. While many black activists contend that there is still a grave disadvantage in being the descendant of slaves, it is hard to see what that could be. Yes, our ancestors suffered. But the 21st-century racist aims his hate at the color of our skin -- not at where we came from or who our grandparents were.
Racism notwithstanding, if a black Antiguan can get high SATs, a black Atlantan should be able to earn them, too.
Epitome reduces a composition by taking away from style but keeping essential content. This will (to some degree) be from the writer's point of view. So the best way is to model the exercise as I did below. I have highlighted in blue and
I have not, however, added coherence strategies, for lack of time. Only in a few cases did I show coherence by adding bracketed words [ ] in the text.
Finally, this is by no means the final draft of an epitome. For example, the examples that Cosby gives could be boiled down or reduced to essence, if one finds the right words.
Here is an example where the ideal is the reverse of what you're usually asked to do, that is, go to lower levels of generality. In epitome, you must learn to go to higher levels of generality. Instead of warning oneself, "Be specific!" one warns oneself, "Be general! Omit, omit, omit! Of course the good writer knows when or what to omit.
A summary, by contrast, reduces not only by style but by content too. It aims for even higher levels of generality than does an epitome.
I will give an epitome of Bill Cosby's Musings. First, by contrast, I include a summary:
"Gerald Boyd questions comedian Bill Cosby's criticism of black subculture values, which Cosby argues leads to one-parent families, substandard education, and poverty. Boyd claims the media has misused these comments instead of taking a closer look at the causes of the problems, such as culture values that encourage pregnancy among young black girls."
Note the higher level of generality involved. An epitome would look like this:
Recently, comedian Bill Cosby accused black families of poor parenting. Typically, the media exposed these comments with little interest in their causes.
Cosby accused black parents of exposing their children to obscene rap music, while spending more money on their children's fashionable clotheswear than for educational aids.
Black mothers were castigated for promiscuous sex, leading to fatherless families. Despite unusual names black mothers give their children, the children end up in jail. Cosby concluded that black people must stop playing the role of victim.
Studies show that single parents raise half of black children, while ten million back Americans live below poverty level. School dropout rate among black children is nearly double that of whites. Black teenagers are also more likely to get pregnant or end up in jail.
But the causes are ignored. Leon Dash, former reporter for The Washington Post, who studied black subculture, concluded that pregnancy was a status symbol among young black girls.
Boyd concludes the media should explore such causes instead of just exposing the problem.
BILL COSBY'S MUSINGS
For weeks, comedian Bill Cosby has been attacking the parenting
failures and personal values of some African-Americans, and it's been
easy to turn his comments into a big story. In fact, it's been too easy.
Instead of using Cosby's assertions as a starting point for a serious
examination of what is really going on in the lives of African-Americans,
and especially the urban poor, news organizations have presented them
with little if any scrutiny. Occasionally, they have brought on
predictable talking heads to debate his charges, but not in a way that
provides real illumination or clarity.
It's the same old song. When it comes to matters involving race or
class, the media often opt for the superficial, rather than expending the
time and resources to determine what really is happening. That's the
case in terms of Cosby's remarks.
The charges, in a number of forums and media outlets, have been
explosive. He has said of black parents: "Lower economic people are not
holding up their end in this deal. They are not parenting. They are
buying things for kids -- $500 sneakers for what? And won't spend $200
for 'Hooked on Phonics.'" And of black women: "Five, six children -- the
same woman -- eight, 10 different husbands or whatever. Pretty soon,
you are going to have DNA cards to tell who you are making love to. You
don't know who this is. It might be your grandmother." And of black
youth, he said: "... with names like Shaniqua, Taliqua and Mohammed
and all of that crap, and all of them are in jail."
Such rantings have made for great sound bites with Cosby fuming
about maladies common to black communities. He puts the onus on
blacks themselves, arguing that they have to stop playing the role of
victim.
Parents are obviously at least partly responsible for the success of
their children -- a point Cosby has hammered home in the media. But
why some are falling down on the job is the real issue here. To suggest
that's it's simply a lack of will is superficial, at best.
News organizations give us Cosby blasting obscenity-laden rap being
played by parents on their car stereos with children seated in the back,
or kids wearing their hats backward and their pants swinging low. But
does any of this really explain why the problems plaguing minorities
continue to exist from one generation to the next?
To say that these issues are complicated hardly begins to describe the
challenge the media face in trying to explain what is really happening.
News organizations encountered a similar test in the 1960s as they
sought to present the story of race in America. But in many ways that
challenge was tame. Race was a story full of heroes and villains, and
blacks wanting and deserving to be treated as equals. Today, the story of
race is one full of paradoxes. On some fronts, there has been clear
progress, yet too many blacks have not just been left behind, but are not
even in the game. Blacks are tired of having to explain their thinking to
whites, and whites are tired of having to listen.
In today's world, according to the Joint Center for Political and
Economic Studies, single parents now raise more than half of black
children. That's one reason why almost 10 million African-Americans
are living below the poverty level with annual incomes of less than
$15,000. Children who complete high school are likely to go to college,
but the percentage of blacks dropping out is nearly double that of whites.
And black teenagers are far more likely to become pregnant than their
white counterparts, or to end up in jail.
Those are the facts, or the headlines. But they say little about the why
-- and more important, [or] what can be done to end such woes.
Once Leon Dash, then a reporter at The Washington Post, spent more
than a year in a D.C. housing project to explore why teenage girls were
becoming pregnant at an alarming rate. What he found was surprising
and revealing.The [that] teenagers regarded motherhood as a badge of honor
rather than the yoke it would become. That's the kind of reporting we
need today.
It's great that such a prominent figure as Cosby would call attention
to some of the critical issues overlooked by a media now dwelling on war,
politics and international strife. If only the media would take his cue and
dig beneath the surface, they would be doing a far better public service
than simply airing some provocative sound bites.
Remember these basic rules while researching and writing your essay:
1. With a proper immersion in the material (play, film, scholarship on the play, biography of Williams, etc.) ideas will come.
2. Everything you write should always be concretely related to the play and film. Do NOT write general remarks unless you support them with SPECIFIC references.
3. In writing, the paradox applies that less is more. That is, the smaller the focus the more substance you will be able to give to that small focus. And, in principle, I doubt if one can ever get too small in one's focus; rather the risk is always in the other direction: to say a little about a lot, since of a lot about a little (how it should be).
4. All compositions should follow the usual model of writing, which should have focus, unity, coherence, and completion (be complete). The first means you must have a point of view, topic, or theme; the second means that everything in your paper should in some way be subordinate to that focus (it does NOT mean having just ONE idea, but that many ideas circle around your main idea, usually through comparison, degree, analogy, definition, etc.).
5. All statements must be documented by scholarship, either in support or contradiction (thus, in DIALOGUE with that scholarship).
6. Originality need not mean completely new, but often means a special stress where others did not stress that point of view as strongly; a contradiction of a previous consensus of scholarly opinion; or, if original, a very minor insight that, nonetheless, advances present scholarship on an issue.
7. At this late date, after nearly two semesters of warning about generalities, I will not tolerate generality in your paper. You've got to be specific, with documentation.
8. In analyzing a novel, play, or film, no one voice should be favored, no more than in a courtroom one voice should be favored over another. If in the end you favor one voice, you must support that conclusion by addressing the voices of other characters and (in novels and movies) the narrator's voice (in movies the narrator is the camera, the shot, the editing between shots, music cues, reading of lines, etc.).
9. As a rule, aim for TEN footnotes. But these footnotes should be notes of substance.
10. The paper will be due 30 MAY 2007. Since there's an academic conference during that period, you should email me the essays by that date. BUT you MUST keep a hard copy, because only in a hard copy can I study your formats (footnotes, italics, punctuation, etc.). Your hard copy must be an exact duplicate of the copy you send by email: no changes allowed. As usual, no attachments in your email.
(The two usually go together, in dialogue: a clear thesis will be presented or focused in a clear title expressing the thesis; and that title in turn will help keep the writer focus.)
So my thesis, in one sentence would be something like this:
"Tennessee Williams' play, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is commonly considered a major American drama, but I argue it is only a disguised soap opera."
As soon as I realized my thesis, I found my title:
"Life with Father: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof as Soap Opera."
The title may not be that precise to a Taiwan student, but a children's book called Life with Father was very popular for many years in America, in many forms. First as a book, then as the longest-running non-musical Broadway show in history, then as a movie1, radio show, and finally television series.
By titling my essay, "Life with Father," I'm equating "Big Daddy" with the sentimental "father" of the book, and, moreover, equating Williams' play with the soap opera format of serialized radio/television versions of the book.
In addition, of course, my subtitle ("Cat on a Hot Tin Roof as Soap Opera") makes my thesis statement even more clear.
1Ironically, a seventeen-year-old Elizabeth Taylor co-starred in this movie ten years before starring in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof: you can see her in a blue bonnet in the lower right corner of the DVD video box.
with special commentary
RICHARD DE CANIO
Second, how did I get this idea? Like you, I had to come up with a point-of-view, preferably one that included some focus on the film, Williams himself, and a comparison between the play and film. Since I'm not very fond of the play, I decided that was where I should search for ideas. (Remember, "discovery" has to be worked at; it doesn't just come from above. Inspiration is finding a radio station after a lot of fiddling with the radio dial, as composer Stravinsky said.)
I naturally asked myself where the deficiencies of the play were, in my opinon. (One cannot just say a play fails; one must give reasons.) I searched for the themes. Those were all right: death, greed, sexual frustration, sibling rivalry, etc.
So what was wrong. To me at least, the characters don't really embody or realize the drama. It's the old antithesis or opposition between showing and telling. Williams or his characters are always telling us what the big problems are, but I see very little dramatization in terms of character and action. Apart from hobbling on his crutch and drinking, what does Brick really do in the play? What does Maggie do, besides adjust her nylon stockings? What does Big Mama do besides cheer Big Daddy's life? And what does Big Daddy do besides say, "Bull" or talk about fertility? And so on.
Then I had to review the film again and point out those scenes, including some dialogue that I thought documented my argument.
Often ranked among the best American plays of the twentieth century and recipient of the Pulitzer prize, Tennessee Williams' Cat on a Hot Tin Roof plays more like soap opera than serious drama.
The play explores conflicted relationships among "Big Daddy," his wife ("Big Mama") their two sons, Brick and Gooper, and the sons' wives, Maggie and Mae. Their conflicts are centered around the father's inheritance.
In my first paragraph, I gave the background of the play, including its reputation, awards, etc. I tried to be very brief. I would have footnoted at the end of the first paragraph and given documentation to support my statement that Cat is considered a major play. If there are other critics who agree with my dismissive evaluation of the play, I would include those voices too. All this would be done in a long footnote. If this were a long essay, I might include the documentation in the body of the essay rather than in a footnote, since I could be more leisurely in my analysis.
Greed and family rivalry can be the stuff of good drama. But so neat and contrived is Williams' play (especially in its 1958 film version, starring Elizabeth Taylor, Paul Newman, and Burl Ives, directed by Richard Brooks), that Brick spells out the play's message for the benefit of other characters and audience:
I would have footnoted the first sentence of the above paragraph, listing other plays with the subject of greed or family rivalry.
"A family crisis brings out the best and the worst in every member."
But family crises are as much the stuff of soap operas as drama. Even worse, the play lacks "the best and the worst," that Brick speaks of.
For Williams never suggests depth in his characters. The Goopers, for example, function on a single plane of greed. The secondary theme of sibling rivalry is never effectively dramatized, only told us in summary dialogue—not the way of true drama. Their children are more gargoyles than people; while it's hard to imagine nieces behaving so disrespectfully to an aunt or an uncle under any circumstances, regardless how stylized Williams' "American South" may be.
In the above, I would have footnoted other scholars' agreement or disagreement with my point of view that the characters like depth, giving scholarly commentary on each of the main characters. Remember, a research paper is a conversation or dialogue with other research in that field.
Big Mama has no identity except to deny that Big Daddy, her husband, has a terminal illness. The moment when she "realizes" that Big Daddy never loved her is spice for the play's dramatic soup but not real drama: Her realization does not alter the relationship between the two. In fact, in the film version, they end arm in arm to survey their plantation.
Again, if possible, I would include scholarly comments in agreement or disagreement with my evaluation. I would try to include comments from the actors' themselves, if published, so I could point out that actor's agreement or disagreement with my point of view and the nature of that difference.
Maggie, for whom Williams seems to have obvious affection (perhaps, with Brick, one half of the playwright's homosexual identity) seems less a realized character than a metaphor, suggested in the play's title. Her aim is to get Brick into bed, but her motive is two-fold, and Williams seems to want it both ways: Maggie wants sex, but she also wants Big Daddy's inheritance.
After my first sentence in this paragraph, I would footnote Williams' biography and/or autobiography to support my claim that Maggie and Brick are two sides of Williams' homosexual identity. In fact, if this were a long essay, or book, that could take an entire chapter within the body of the text rather than only a footnote. There's doubtless a lot of scholarship on the relation between Williams' personal life and his characters. Blanche du Bois, in A Streetcar Named Desire, has often been viewed as the mirror image of the playwright. The British composer, Benjamin Britten, who wrote several operas on homosexual themes, has also been subject to this kind of biographical analysis, as well as countless other artists, such as Freud's famous study of Leonardo da Vinci.
Such a conflict, within Maggie herself, might be the stuff of drama. But the conflict is not in Maggie but in the playwright, who can't seem to make up his mind what it is his character wants. This ambiguity is fatal in a play that pretends to expose "mendacity" in the name of "Truth," when the playwright himself seems unaware what "Truth" is.
Here I can study previous drafts, if available, of Williams' play: did his characters undergo changes as he revised his drama? Obviously the longer the essay, especially if it ends up as a book, the more research can be done. Still, a good writer can include a lot of information in comparatively few sentences, summing up instead, and directing the reader to source material, such as: "See Adams, The Private Pain of Tennessee Williams, pp. 238-79."
Williams' strengths and weaknesses as a dramatist go together. The impact of Williams' plays on contemporary culture was through his bold metaphors of sex in an era that controversialized that subject, especially regarding homosexuality. But Williams' metaphors cannot bear the strain of universal themes.
This would be easy to footnote, since there's doubtless a lot of references to Williams' plays as part of Broadway theatre history, as well as movie history (no other American writer was so well represented in the Hollywood cinema during the 1950s and 60s than was Williams: not only his plays, but one novel (The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone) and screenplays that relied more on his name than his work.
Consider the two most suggestive characters—Brick and Big Daddy. Both characters are potentially dramatic since both seem aware of a truth they flee.
Brick flees from the truth of his relationship with Skipper. But because of the Hollywood censorship code in effect when the film was made, the nature of Brick's conflict with Skipper was altered from a homosexual relationship to betrayal of friendship.
Here (above paragraph, as well as first sentence in the following paragraph) I would footnote comments on the play as well as Hollywood's censorship code. This alone would involve considerable referencing.
This change is noted in critical discussions of Williams' play. But what is ignored is that the play is no more effective in giving a credible motive for Brick's conflict within himself.
The play would have worked better if it had aimed lower: if Brick were a teenager faced with an adolescent conflict of identity (sexual or social). But to achieve a tragic effect, Brick needed to be an adult. Yet Brick never seems more than a disguised adolescent with a teenage relationship problem (sexual or emotional) with parent (Big Daddy) and buddy (Skipper).
Thus the movie exploits a "moody teenager" angle not in the play, since youthful "alienation" suited Paul Newman's star image, groomed in the style of contemporary stars such as Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift, James Dean, and even the new King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley). (Jailhouse Rock was released the year before.) Thus despite a hodgepodge of themes (greed, materialism, truth, death) suited to major drama, stress is placed on teenage issues such as playing football, the need for approval (the first scene when Brick tries to jump hurdles with cheers of the crowd on his mind), parental alienation, social success, and sexual immaturity.
In the above paragraph, I would document references to the plots of Hollywood "youth films" of the time, from Brando's notorious motorcycle film, The Wild One, to Dean's three films, and other films by Clift, etc. The Rock and Roll era was at its first flush of glory when Cat was filmed; Elvis was imitating James Dean in Jailhouse Rock; another notorious youth gang film, The Blackboard Jungle was also released in this era (the first film to use a Rock song, in this case, "Rock Around the Clock").
The same problem obtains with Big Daddy and his emphasis on "mendacity"—the system of lies in which the family lives. But the "truth" is unclear.
Because of his pursuit of life in all forms (fertility, money, land) we assume the Big Truth for Big Daddy is Death: Life is a system of lies that denies death. Lest the audience not get the point, the film has Big Daddy spell it out:
"The men who build empires die and empires die too. That's why I've got you and Gooper. . . . I want a part of me to keep living. I won't let it end with the grave."
This is the "big Truth" for Big Mama, which she denies. The problem is, Williams does nothing with his characters or his theme. There is no discovery of enduring values that transcend death (justice, submission, wisdom), such as we find in Greek drama or the Bible. Instead there's a bloated character, the family physician, who agonizes over death, as if a patient had never died before. Like the other characters, the doctor behaves the way Williams needs him to behave to pretend tragic effect.
Here I might compare and contrast Williams' treatment of his themes and treatment of similar themes in Shakespeare, Ibsen, even Arthur Miller, a writer with a more social consciousness.
Indeed, for Williams (if we credit Brick's summing up of Maggie's character), truth is something "desperate." It evokes the play's title and Maggie's desperate need to consummate her marriage.
Thus Williams' message seems nothing more than survival—at any cost. But mere survival may suit cats, but is not the stuff of which great dramas are made.
Hemmed in by the limits of Williams' original play as well as by Hollywood's censorship code in force at the time, director Richard Brooks resorts to staging the theme of "alienation." So the actors usually have their faces or backs turned away from each other or their bodies separated by natural barriers (mostly doors).
But this is a virtue of Brooks' direction, not of the play. What we are left with is an outsized vision of the American South, which contemporary audiences may have mistaken for universal drama, in the way that the names of the characters (Big Daddy, Big Mama, Sister Woman) give them an identity never dramatized in the play.
RICHARD DE CANIO
In these epics (story poems), the hero descends into Hades as part of the journey's goal. Dante used the same myth in the Divine Comedy. Like the Greek heroes, he is led into Hell. The idea, as in modern psychology, is that only by knowing the dark side of life (the passions) can we cure ourselves.
The descent myth is found in a Christian (New Testament) form, dated about the time of Vergil. This is known as Christ's "harrowing of Hell," between Jesus' death (on Friday) and his resurrection (on Sunday).
St. Paul says Jesus "descended to the lower, earthly regions" (Letter to the Ephesians, 4.9). St. Peter specifies that Jesus "preached to the spirits in prison [Hades]"
(1 Peter 3.19).
The reference is to those in Hades (not Hell) who were good but unhappily lived before Jesus. Therefore Jesus had to rescue them.
This theme of descent and rescue survives in Western literature and modern psychology, which sees going down into Hades (=the unconscious) as a necessary part of the "cure." Christianity reflects this myth in baptism. The convert is buried in (or sprinkled with) water, to rise a new person. It is apparent in the act of kneeling in prayer. One descends, to rise in power.
The theme is doubled in the Old Testament's Book of Jonah. Jonah is thrown into the water and then swallowed by a fish (traditionally called a whale), where he stays for three days.
Jesus refers to "the sign of Jonah" several times in the Gospels:
"As Jonah was a sign . . . so also will the Son of Man be" (Luke 11.30). In Matthew, Jesus says that no sign of his power will be given, except the sign of Jonah (Matthew 16.4).
In other words, "as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of a great fish, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth" (Matthew 12.39).
This suggests the seasonal myth of winter's death, from the Greek story of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone. In this myth, Demeter gets Persephone back from the Underworld (Hades).
In the Hymn to Demeter, this involves a long journey, during which Demeter serves as a maid, caring for other children as her own, until her own daughter (held by the "black" Pluto), is allowed back on earth (except during winter).
Traces of this myth appear in several Hollywood films. In John Ford's The Searchers, with John Wayne as Ethan Edwards, a white girl is rescued from the Indians after a long hunt lasting years. The descent into the Underworld of the Indians is clear in a shot framed outside a cave as Edwards enters. That the descent is also a confrontation with the hero's own racial feelings (hatred) is shown in his Edwards' mad desire to kill his own niece because she's been violated by the Indians and so no longer "white." Only after descending into Hell and holding his niece in his arms is the rescue complete. Edwards has achieved catharsis, after which he says, with tenderness: "Let's go home."
In Hardcore, a father rescues his daughter from the underworld of pornography. In The Deer Hunter, a man tries to rescue his buddy from the underworld of Saigon gambling dens.
Douglas Sirk's Imitation of Life uses a variation of the myth. But if in the myth of Demeter and Persephone, a white mother tries to rescue her daughter from the black Pluto (King of Hades), here a black mother tries to rescue her daughter from "white" men in the underworld of sex.
Like Demeter, Annie, the black mother, works as a maid, caring for children not hers in order to rescue the child that is hers. She descends into the underworld the first time she tracks down her daughter (we see her going down stairs). The fact that she fails to save her daughter enriches the myth, years before The Deer Hunter.
The irony of Sirk's film is that the child returns only after the mother's death. As in the Greek myth, Persephone is linked with flowers; but here the flowers reflect death, not life, as if to underscore the film's pessimism.
Life with Big Daddy: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof as Soap OperaOften ranked among the best American plays of the twentieth century and recipient of the Pulitzer prize, Tennessee Williams' Cat on a Hot Tin Roof plays more like soap opera than serious drama.
RICHARD DE CANIO
The play explores conflicted relationships among "Big Daddy," his wife ("Big Mama") their two sons, Brick and Gooper, and the sons' wives, Maggie and Mae. Their conflicts are centered around the father's inheritance.
Greed and family rivalry can be the stuff of good drama. But so neat and contrived is Williams' play (especially in its 1958 film version, starring Elizabeth Taylor, Paul Newman, and Burl Ives, directed by Richard Brooks), that Brick spells out the play's message for the benefit of other characters and audience:
"A family crisis brings out the best and the worst in every member."
But family crises are as much the stuff of soap operas as drama. Even worse, the play lacks "the best and the worst," that Brick speaks of.
For Williams never suggests depth in his characters. The Goopers, for example, function on a single plane of greed. The secondary theme of sibling rivalry is never effectively dramatized, only told us in summary dialogue—not the way of true drama. Their children are more gargoyles than people; while it's hard to imagine nieces behaving so disrespectfully to an aunt or an uncle under any circumstances, regardless how stylized Williams' "American South" may be.
Big Mama has no identity except to deny that Big Daddy, her husband, has a terminal illness. The moment when she "realizes" that Big Daddy never loved her is spice for the play's dramatic soup but not real drama: Her realization does not alter the relationship between the two. In fact, in the film version, they end arm in arm to survey their plantation.
Maggie, for whom Williams seems to have obvious affection (perhaps, with Brick, one half of the playwright's homosexual identity) seems less a realized character than a metaphor, suggested in the play's title. Her aim is to get Brick into bed, but her motive is two-fold, and Williams seems to want it both ways: Maggie wants sex, but she also wants Big Daddy's inheritance.
Such a conflict, within Maggie herself, might be the stuff of drama. But the conflict is not in Maggie but in the playwright, who can't seem to make up his mind what it is his character wants. This ambiguity is fatal in a play that pretends to expose "mendacity" in the name of "Truth," when the playwright himself seems unaware what "Truth" is.
Williams' strengths and weaknesses as a dramatist go together. The impact of Williams' plays on contemporary culture was through his bold metaphors of sex in an era that controversialized that subject, especially regarding homosexuality. But Williams' metaphors cannot bear the strain of universal themes.
Consider the two most suggestive characters—Brick and Big Daddy. Both characters are potentially dramatic since both seem aware of a truth they flee.
Brick flees from the truth of his relationship with Skipper. But because of the Hollywood censorship code in effect when the film was made, the nature of Brick's conflict with Skipper was altered from a homosexual relationship to betrayal of friendship.
This change is noted in critical discussions of Williams' play. But what is ignored is that the play is no more effective in giving a credible motive for Brick's conflict within himself.
The play would have worked better if it had aimed lower: if Brick were a teenager faced with an adolescent conflict of identity (sexual or social). But to achieve a tragic effect, Brick needed to be an adult. Yet Brick never seems more than a disguised adolescent with a teenage relationship problem (sexual or emotional) with parent (Big Daddy) and buddy (Skipper).
Thus the movie exploits a "moody teenager" angle not in the play, since youthful "alienation" suited Paul Newman's star image, groomed in the style of contemporary stars such as Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift, James Dean, and even the new King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley). (Jailhouse Rock was released the year before.) Thus despite a hodgepodge of themes (greed, materialism, truth, death) suited to major drama, stress is placed on teenage issues such as playing football, the need for approval (the first scene when Brick tries to jump hurdles with cheers of the crowd on his mind), parental alienation, social success, and sexual immaturity.
The same problem obtains with Big Daddy and his emphasis on "mendacity"—the system of lies in which the family lives. But the "truth" is unclear.
Because of his pursuit of life in all forms (fertility, money, land) we assume the Big Truth for Big Daddy is Death: Life is a system of lies that denies death. Lest the audience not get the point, the film has Big Daddy spell it out:
"The men who build empires die and empires die too. That's why I've got you and Gooper. . . . I want a part of me to keep living. I won't let it end with the grave."
This is the "big Truth" for Big Mama, which she denies. The problem is, Williams does nothing with his characters or his theme. There is no discovery of enduring values that transcend death (justice, submission, wisdom), such as we find in Greek drama or the Bible. Instead there's a bloated character, the family physician, who agonizes over death, as if a patient had never died before. Like the other characters, the doctor behaves the way Williams needs him to behave to pretend tragic effect.
Indeed, for Williams (if we credit Brick's summing up of Maggie's character), truth is something "desperate." It evokes the play's title and Maggie's desperate need to consummate her marriage.
Thus Williams' message seems nothing more than survival—at any cost. But mere survival may suit cats, but is not the stuff of which great dramas are made.
Hemmed in by the limits of Williams' original play as well as by Hollywood's censorship code in force at the time, director Richard Brooks resorts to staging the theme of "alienation." So the actors usually have their faces or backs turned away from each other or their bodies separated by natural barriers (mostly doors).
But this is a virtue of Brooks' direction, not of the play. What we are left with is an outsized vision of the American South, which contemporary audiences may have mistaken for universal drama, in the way that the names of the characters (Big Daddy, Big Mama, Sister Woman) give them an identity never dramatized in the play.
Students,
By this Wednesday you should have at least the notes & references, as well as a chosen topic/subject. Each student should be prepared to give a summary of their planned paper and recite reference texts supplementary to illustrating one's point or point of view.
Remember: your focus should be limited. For example, comparing Cat with social or sexual mores in Taiwan will not help you, because your paper is very short.
Also keep in mind that your area of concern is wider since you're discussing a movie adaptation; so reference to the movie (if you're skilled in such analysis) is a legitimate (in fact, expected) part of your analysis.
In terms of your analysis, you might focus on
1. a single scene (always assuming, of course, you situate that scene in the entire play/film);
2. development of a character in the play (obviously Brick's development is key to the drama, but other characters show signs of developing too, such as Gooper) (by the way, the name is Gooper [with a G], not Cooper [with a C] as some might have spoken it in class);
3. props or scenery (crutch, bed, bedroom, basement, plantation;
4. a single character (their function in the play's drama; their philosophy, values, etc.;
5. throughline (that is, the central spine of a character, which motivates the character from the beginning to the end);
6. cinematic realization of themes (closeups for emphasis; editing for emphasis or reaction; grouping of characters in the shot (mise-en-scene); framing of the shot. To give examples: the way the shot is framed to include the brass bed, a key symbol in the film/play; the way that Brick and Maggie turn their backs to each other in one shot); the movement of Brick away from Maggie; Brick's hopping on one leg; the descent into the basement (down into the past/unconscious), etc.
7. feminist point-of-view;
8. psychological point-of-view;
9. sexual point-of-view;
and many others.
REGARDING YOUR RESEARCH PAPERBelow is one sample of how an index card looks when a note is written on it. I don't have the text I cite on the card, so I had to make it up from memory. But my main goal was to give you an example of how index cards can be used to keep separate notes. Each person will have their own method, of course. But all important information should be written/typed on the card exactly as it appears in the cited text, without any change in spelling, punctuation, etc. Omitted text should be clearly shown by ellipsis; added text is placed inside brackets, as the card shows. The card also shows the book's title, publication date, city, publisher, etc.
As your Harbrace book makes clear, there's no right method. Today many students use laptops and type directly on their computers, even while their teacher is lecturing or in libraries.
Index cards are still convenient for sorting, rearranging on a table to generate patterns of relationship, etc. The main thing is to find a method that works for you and that will insure accuracy.
Other issues that emerged after class:
Originality. No teacher expects a student to revolutionize scholarship on Tennessee Williams. Originality does not mean significant originality. It may mean nothing more than merely choosing one published interpretation of the play over another and adding reasons why this reading of the play was favored (details from play, scholarship, etc.).
A lot of originality in classrooms is simply how well a student uses researched information in a personal order. Originality may mean only a point of view that is sufficiently or adequately documented.
Originality may also be imposing a pattern on the play that, while one does not claim it is definitive, is at least, to some degree, informative or interesting. My own essay on the film is an example. I used the film to show how the text of the play (screenplay) uses a lot of Aristotle's commonplaces, because much of the play does involve "persuasion" (a key term in rhetoric). I covered other issues that are familiar to the play's readers as well, but my main focus was rhetoric, or the art of persuasion.
Citation. Citing always must be accurate, even when the original is not! That is, if a word is misspelled in the original, the word must be misspelled in the quote too with the Latin "sic" in brackets, thus: "As Johnson writes in his Introduction, 'My pley [sic] was written out of a personal crisis.'" Words can be omitted, but this must be shown by ellipsis, as if I quoted this sentence with omitted words: "Words can be omitted . . . shown by ellipsis. . . ."
Paraphrase. Paraphrase is allowed and is indeed recommended, to save time. Quoting every single word by another scholar may not be necessary when a paraphrase with some key words in quotes is more economical. "Bloom sees the play as 'tragic' though he dismissed it as a failed tragedy."
Plagiarism. I cannot stress this enough, especially for students who wish to pursue graduate education. Temptation is all around today. Research essays are advertised for sale on the Net. Or they can be downloaded for nothing. But common sense should tell you that the teacher can find those papers even faster than you, using key words in your own paper! It took me just a few seconds to find plagiarized texts from some of my students, using their own phrases, which matched with phrases on the Net.
But when is it plagiarism. Obviously, all phrases that come from another source belongs to the writer, not the student! Individual words cannot be claimed as a writer's own, of course. But words in significant or original collocation can. Even two words, such as Keats' "alien corn" belong to Keats, since no-one else is likely to have paired those two words together. On the other hand, a phrase such as "cold and windy" is likely to have been used by thousands of writers, so is considered to be part of the culture, like idioms such as "it popped into my head," "I blew my top," and so on. Calling Beethoven an early Romantic composer hardly needs to be cited since it's considered public knowledge and probably not even worth saying. Calling Hemingway's prose "hard-boiled" is now considered part of public knowledge, though at one time such a phrase would be considered worthy of citation. Calling Hitchcock the "Master of Suspense" would also fall under the class of public phrasing, commonly used by many writers on Hitchcock.
However, certain phrases with unique collocations (order of words) clearly belong to the writer who created them. "Once upon a midnight dreary" belongs to Edgar Allan Poe, even though all the words by themselves belong to everyone and are commonly used almost every single day of our lives: "Once it rained so hard I almost drowned!" "Upon arrival I took off my coat." "The weather is so dreary today," etc. But the special collocation I quoted belongs to Poe and must be cited as such.
Other collocations ("In the beginning," from the Bible) are so familiar that no citation need be made and, in fact, humor can be added to one's writing by using such phrases in different or ironic ways.
Finally, paraphrase does not excuse the writer from accusations of plagiarism if citation is not made. "Smith's view of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is that it articulates the frustrations of the homosexual male at a time in American history when being exposed as a homosexual could be considered shameful." Now if no special collocations were borrowed from the original text, that would be an acceptable paraphrase. However, even with citation, referring to "Smith," the writer still must place quotes around any collocation of words or special words that Smith used himself, thus: "Smith's view of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is that it 'articulates" the frustrations of the homosexual male at a time," etc. By placing "articulates" in quotes, I make clear that Smith used precisely that word, whereas the other words are not used by Smith or are sufficiently common ("homosexual," for example) as to be part of a common vocabulary of talking about these issues.
From PR Officer to MUJI President
By Jackie Lin
STAFF REPORTER
Taipei Times
Monday, Apr 16, 2007, Page 12
Being a public relations officer has been Wang Wen-hsin's life-long dream since the time when she started studying in the advertising department at National Chengchi University.
Definition: her job is part of her dream.
After 15 years in public relations and thanks to her analytical mindset and other skills, Wang was presented with a rare opportunity early last year, when she was asked to become vice president of MUJI (Taiwan) Co.
Cause-Effect: 15 years in poublic relations. At least as a foreign reader, and maybe most native readers too, I would like to know what MUJI stands for. This can usually be done in a parenthesis.
The 38-year-old Wang has since been promoted to company president, making her the youngest and the only female president in parent group President Chain Store Corp, which owns over 30 brands, including 7-Eleven, Starbucks and Mister Donut.
Definition: "youngest and the only female." Examples: 7-Eleven, etc.
She is also the first member of the President Chain PR team to assume a top managerial role.
Definition; adverbial connective ("moreover"), an easy way to develop an idea, by using connectives such as "moreover," "nevertheless," "however," "so," "additionally," etc.
"I always thought I'd be a PR person forever. I love the job so much I never feel tired. So when president Hsu Chung-jen [of President Chain] informed me of my job transfer, I was very surprised," Wang told the Taipei Times during an interview last week.
Cause-Effect: "love the job," so she never feels tired. (Should be "loved" and "felt" since it's past.) "President Hsu" should be capitalized, unless "president" is treated like a common noun: "Only one US president was a bachelor." Or: "The former American president, Ronald Reagan, recently passed away." BUT: "It was announced that President Bush would arrive in New Orleans later today." Cause-Effect: she was surprised, because she loved her job & thought she would remain in that position.
As the chief of President Chain's public relations team, Wang was seen in every press conference introducing the company's latest products to reporters.
Cause-Effect: as part of her job, she's in promotions. "After," below, is a convenient (easy) way to develop an essay structured by time ("narration"): "after," "before," "then," "later," "in the evening," etc.
After the meeting with Hsu, she did not have much time to think.
Cause-Effect: not much time to think. Some more Cause-Effect in next paragraph. Note how the writer, below and above, effectively includes important information in clauses or appositive positions, including the subject's age (above) and how many years she worked someplace, included in a non-restrictive clause ("which began," etc.) below:
Making sure she understood what her boss wanted her to achieve in the new position, for one month Wang spent half a day every day at MUJI outlets getting hands-on experience before concluding her career as a publicist, which began in her first year after graduating from university at a PR firm, followed by 14 years at President Chain.
"I became a fan of MUJI after making my first overseas trip to Japan during university. But knowing and loving the brand doesn't mean one knows how to operate the business," she said.
Quoted speech goes to lower level of generality. Antithesis: "liking" and "knowing" are opposed. Then Cause-Effect is again used below:
To quickly bridge the knowledge gap, Wang said she spent time in the outlets to understand its more than 5,000 products, observed how consumers shop and talk about the products and gathered customer feedback and suggestions posted on its Web site.
"I respected my colleagues' opinion as they had worked there for over two years. I make my decisions based on their feedback and my own conclusions," Wang said.
More Cause-Effect ("I respected," etc.) and a lower level of generality, common in quoted speech. Even more Cause-Effect below: preparation work, so not too much pressure.
With all this preparatory work, Wang said she did not feel too much pressure.
"I'm quite daring at work and believe nothing can't be resolved," she said.
Somehow this quote (above) doesn't smoothly follow from what went before, though of course there's some kind of relationship. Yet more Cause-Effect below ("Her familiarity," etc.).
Her familiarity with the PR business makes her more suited to communicate with reporters, customers and Japanese shareholders, a clear advantage as most managers usually need to rely on their publicists.
For example, Wang constantly transforms herself into a model, strutting the catwalk during press conferences showcasing MUJI's latest products -- apparel or skin-care products. These initiatives have helped boost media coverage.
Example, above, at lower level of generality. More Cause-Effect too.
One thing she has difficulty understanding has been the media attention she has received of late.
Contrast: one thing she has difficulty with. Somehow the profile loses focus, below. It should be about Wang, instead it focuses more on the President Chain business, while Wang almost disappears. Coherence is also weak, since the paragraphs are not linked strongly enough, each paragraph seeming to be independent of the one before and after. Also, though I'm fond myself of two-sentence paragraphs, the writer goes too far and indents on almost every sentence, as if the writer knew nothing about paragraphing. Basically, I would omit all the blue font text below and continue with the green-font text to complete the profile (nothing of focus would be lost):
President Chain and its parent company, Uni-President Enterprise Corp, set up the joint venture with Japan-based retail giant Ryohin Keikaku Co -- owner of the 27-year-old MUJI brand -- and Mitsubishi Group in 2003 with an initial capital outlay estimated at NT$100 million (US$3 million).
MUJI is a household goods and clothing label that trumpets "simple, natural and quality" designs.
Since its first outlet was opened in Taipei's Breeze Center in April 2004, MUJI Taiwan has operated 10 stores nationwide, reporting revenues of NT$570 million last year.
Despite its late entry, outside Japan, Taiwan has the most MUJI outlets in Asia and ranks second in the world only after the UK, which runs 16 stores.
Branching out has already reaped profits in its first year and the company expects 30 percent growth.
Two new stores would be opened every year over the next five years, Wang said.
The ultimate scenario would be to have more than 50 MUJI shops in Taiwan, based on Japan's experience of operating over 300 stores for a population six times that of Taiwan, she said.
MUJI Taiwan has over 10,000 members who subscribe to its electronic newsletter containing the latest product information.
Wang has also been looking at the possibility of issuing membership cards sometime this year to secure customer loyalty.
Asked whether she anticipates another surprising turn in her career now that she has become a role model for many young students, Wang shook her head.
Antecedent-Consequence (before/after, like Cause-Effect, but not definite, just probable).
"I have no personal plan now. What I think of every day is how to boost each store's performance, what kind of products to introduce and how to employ marketing strategies to enhance brand awareness and attract more customers," she said.
New York's oldest bartender turns 90
THE GUARDIAN, NEW YORK
Thursday, Aug 24, 2006, Page 6
from the Taipei Times
New York's oldest bartender learned early in his career not to be over-awed in the presence of celebrity.
Fast beginning, using what is called "cataphora"; that is, referring to someone or something before it has been identified. "New York's oldest bartender" has not been identified yet, so it adds suspense to the profile, like beginning a crime story: "He was walking behind me. I could hear his footsteps, pat, pat, pat, on the cement pavement. . . ." Note the catchy opening sentence, concluding on the word "celebrity." Also the adverb, "early," clues us that this person has lived long. Then the writer uses only a snatch (bit) of a quote, filling it out with indirect quotation:
Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis were "just regular people," and never gave him any trouble; Judy Garland was "sad," and sat in the corner drinking whisky, but was otherwise pleasant. John Lennon liked a scotch. And Marilyn Monroe?
A dramatic rhetorical question introduces the first complete quote and the identification of the profile subject, Hoy Wang. Notice how the writer economically combines desription ("leaning forward at a table") and identification of setting ("at the Algonquin Hotel"). "I'll tell you this" nicely sums up this person's manner of speaking, by selecting a colorful phrase.
"I'll tell you this about Marilyn," Hoy Wong said on Tuesday, leaning forward at a table in the bar of the Algonquin Hotel. "She always wore really low-cut dresses."
Now more description follows, including important background:
Mr Hoy, as he is universally known, turned 90 yesterday, and last night his colleagues in midtown Manhattan, were preparing to throw a party for him, along with 350 friends and customers.
After 58 years behind the bar, pouring some 750,000 drinks, the Hong Kong-born Hoy was enjoying the attention. Antithesis ("but") allows for a good transition between one idea and the next: But he had no plans to get drunk: He has not had a drink since a heart attack in 1982.
Note the order: from present, back to past (1940), then forward again to present. This is fairly typical of profile writing. Note how the writer surely summarized a lot of profile interview answers in a short narrative paragraph. Otherwise the profile would be too long. But this takes work. The writer finds how certain material connects together and then arranges that material, finally finding the best way to present it, either amplifying or condensing ideas in it. Here the writer has chosen to condense ideas and facts:
After coming to the US in 1940, Hoy served in the army for three years, seeing out the end of World War II in India and China, and learning, from his experiences as a mess sergeant, that he would not relish a career as a cook.
Once again, a good transition device, linking cooking to the next subject, bartending. Then we get a selective use of dialogue. Note how the writer selects colorful idiomatic expressions for his direct quotes: "easy living"; "good money."
"Being a bartender, it's easy living, and you get to talk to people every day, pay attention to the customer," he said. "And it's good money."
Now we go to the past again. Every writer must choose the best order for the material. In a massive (big) biography, probably a strict chronology would be better. But in a short work, like this profile, an alternation of present and past events allows for a more colorful order to the material and easier transitions to dialogue. I the dialogue quoted at the end of this next paragraph, once again only two words are chosen, while the rest is in indirect discourse. The point is: there must be a PURPOSE to every scrap (bit) of dialogue. In fact, there must be a purpose to every single word, though sometimes only the writer knows it for sure.
Hoy met most of his star customers while at Freeman Chum, a Chinese restaurant that has long since closed. At another bar job, in 1961, he took an order from the Duke of Windsor, for a House of Lords gin martini "on toast."
Next paragraph shows an interesting detail in the person's life. Once again, the principle of selection is important. The writer doesn't just write anything; it must be colorful, significant, odd, unusual, funny, bizarre, offensive, vulgar, silly, whatever. At the same time, this little tidbit of information shows that this bartender already was more experienced than his peers:
The request baffled other staff, one of whom was ready to get the kitchen to prepare some toast. But Hoy knew he wanted a Martini with a lemon-peel spritz, set on fire. The former king ended up ordering two.
Now we get a little background on the famous hotel, the Algonquin, which doesn't really add to the profile; yet readers who know the Algonquin's history might ask if this person knew the hotel at its peak glory years. In other words, good writers ANSWER questions the average reader might ASK. One might almost define good writing as a good dialogue between a real writer (YOU) and an imaginary reader.
Hoy moved to the Algonquin in 1979. The wisecracking members of the 1920s Algonquin round table -- Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley and others -- had long since moved on. But they had been replaced by other high-profile customers such as Anthony Quinn and Henry Kissinger.
Then we get concluding dialgoue for this very simple profile. It's not much, but it shows what can be done with little material to go on, if its well organized. The writer returns to the beginning, with the subject of age and retirement. This oldest bartender in New York is "not going to retire." We get a cause-effect reason and then funny final dialogue about paying his taxes, which concludes on the same motif with which it began: bartending. Again, the one thing missing here is some description of the person, so one doesn't really see this person as well as one should. Otherwise, it's a good model for a profile, especially since it's short enough to be studied in a few minutes, even with my commentary.
"I'm not going to retire," Hoy said. "As long as I'm healthy like this, I'll keep going. You know why? I figured it out. President Bush -- he needs the money. So I've got to keep working to pay the tax."
THE ART OF PERSUASION IN CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOFRhetoric is the art of persuasion. More generally, it is the act of speaking (now writing). For all speaking (or writing) has a purpose, whether achieved or not.
Even a child's cry has a purpose. It too is a form of rhetoric, as is a gesture, such as clasping the hands in a plea sign to ask one's mother for permission to see a movie.
Rhetoric is three-pointed, like a triangle. One point is the speaker. The speaker uses reasons and shared values to convince an audience. The child convinces her mother to pay for an expensive college by showing she shares the same values as her mother: a good education.
But arguments are also important. They are based on common places where the receiver expects to find them. Thus: "What do you mean by that word?" "Give me an example!" "There's a big difference between killing accidentally and killing in cold blood!" And so on. The good speaker/writer knows common places to improve persuasion and thus prevents those kinds of questions.
These are called "commonplaces." They include showing how one thing is related to another by comparison or definition: A woman should be treated equal to a man because she belongs to the same class as he. Government should aid its citizens, for a citizen is a part of a government. And so on.
Contradiction advances an argument by denial: "You say my money for your education is worth it, but look at your grades! You failed half your classes!"
Division is a form of defintion, breaking down a subject into parts, such as the advantages of Taipei over Tainan. Division also uses signs or attributes to make a point. "He must be drunk, since he can't walk, he can't talk, and he can't even stand up right."
Contraries oppose ideas to show that if one idea is good the other is bad. If lies are bad, truth is good.
Testimony uses received opinion to convince. "The New York Times recommended the movie."
Proverbs appeal to received wisdom: "Spare the rod and spoil the child."
Laws appeal to what can or cannot be done legally: "I would punish him myself, but it's against the law to hit another's child."
Wordplay suggests relationships by words. "Spring is a wonderful season, when life springs from the earth!" "A university should be universal, sharing all points of view, not just one." "Where's the muse in his music, which sounds so uninspired?"
Examples also persuade. Thus, "Nancy went to that university and her grades improved."
Cause/effect shows where there's a cause an effect follows: "If you get sick, you'll miss work and lose money."
Antecedent/Consequence is like cause and effect but is only probable. Yet probability can be persuasive: "If you go to the big city, you'll be distracted by the pubs and show places and will not study hard." Or, "Too many unemployed in the city will lead to greater crime." And, "Education leads to greater harmony in society, since educated people are more likely to cooperate than the less educated."
Degree argues more or less. If more people like a movie, it's better. Or if more educated people like a movie, it's better than if less educated people like a different movie.
Comparison advances a thought by similarity and difference. Similarities show a difference: "Taipei and Tainan are great cities. Both have a lot of history. But Tainan has more history than Taipei and has more to teach us about our past."
An analogy is like a comparison but suggests a similarity despite differences. "We check an automobile before we buy it. Why shouldn't we check our future spouses the same way?" Or, "Our planet has intelligent life on it, so should other planets."
Thus Rhetoric is not the art of proof (impossible except in mathematics or logic) but the art of persuasion: One finds common places ("commonplaces") to strengthen one's point of view; one controls the emotions of one's audience; one shows oneself as trustworthy. These three points make the Communication Triangle.
All three work together and only conditionally; that is, depending on other conditions involved. "Spare the rod and spoil the child" (testimony) might be effective if one's audience is a traditional parent but may sound wrong to a child psychologist aware of child abuse. That person would also lose confidence in the speaker/writer. So all three points of the Communication Triangle are affected because all of them are not working together.
The movie version of Tennessee Williams' Pulitzer prize-winning play, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (Richard Brooks, 1958) focuses on ways two sons and their wives try to persuade their father, Big Daddy (Burl Ives) to inherit one of them.
One theme is fertility. Big Daddy has turned a wasteland into a goldmine. He expects the same fertility from his two sons.
We see the fertility of his elder son, Gooper (Jack Carson), whose wife, Mae (Madeleine Sherwood) has a nest of children. In fact, she meets Big Daddy with a parade of them, as if to prove her fertility, so seem worthy of Big Daddy's inheritance (antecedent/consequence).
But her actions do not persuade. She fails in the Communication Triangle by forgetting her audience, Big Daddy, and what persuades him. Her character, a point of the Communication Triangle, is unconvincing: she shows greed instead of love or integrity.
In fact, she misunderstands that Big Daddy serves a higher value than life, Truth. He values Truth more than fertility (degree).
Thus the signs (division) Mae shows of her fertility (her children's parade, their noise and interference on Big Daddy's estate) are useless. They might persuade another father, but not this one.
Beneath fertility lies sex, Big Daddy's real attraction. Despite his age and long marriage, he suggests sexual needs. During his survey of his plantation with his daughter-in-law, Maggie (Elizabeth Taylor), we see a pair of horses, hinting of sexual mating (analogy).
Also he speaks of Maggie's sexual attractiveness, finding her more shapely than the fertile Mae.
For Big Daddy, sex, not fertility, suggests life and Truth. Thus Maggie has no children by her husband, Brick (Paul Newman), because their relationship is dishonest. Their lack of trust (or truth) explains their bedroom failure.
The movie reveals the cause and effect relationship behind Brick's sexual failure. In the beginning, Maggie sees the failure in a superficial antecedent/consequence relationship, assuming that if she exposes herself to Brick she can arouse him.
But Brick is different from other men. What would arouse other men (most movie viewers) offends him. Before Maggie can persuade Brick and get him to desire her again, she must understand the person he is (definition). Oherwise her erotic tease (adjusting her stockings in front of him, etc.) is useless.
Because she doesn't understand Brick (her audience), other strategies of rhetoric fail too. She uses Antecedent/Consequence (before and after) to persuade Brick he is an alcoholic and this will result in his father's disinheritance. She argues by division, showing signs of his failure: quitting work, drinking, breaking his ankle jumping hurdles.
Brick argues by contradiction (denial): since he's not famous, he's not eligible for Rainbow Hill, an alcoholics' home. Even Maggie agrees to Brick's denial, adding, "No, and you don't take dope."
Learning that such persuasion is wasted on an alcoholic, Maggie appeals to Brick's alcoholic dependence and argues if he's disinherited he'll have trouble satisfying those needs: "You ready to hustle for ten-cent beer?" she asks him.
Maggie's failure to persuade Brick is partly because, as Brick says, she's not the same woman she was when he married her (comparison: similarity and difference). Accepting this, Maggie tries a cause and effect argument, saying she's been punished enough for whatever she did.
Yet Maggie is resilient and determined. Thus her nickname, "Maggie the Cat."
By analogy, Maggie is a "cat on a hot tin roof": either she jumps off or she stays on as long as she can. Her determination is opposed to Brick's weak will (contrary: opposites).
In the end, it's Maggie's will (her strong character) more than her arguments that convinces Brick. She knows their problems and identities are related. Speaking with confidence, she inspires confidence in Brick.
Nonetheless, Maggie uses any ploy to get a child, despite Brick's sexual disgust, which shows a disgust with himself (cause and effect). Besides erotic teasing, she makes up proverbs: "Not looking at a fire doesn't put it out." She also appeals to laws. Thus she tells Brick that "the laws of silence won't work" to prevent exposure of his guilt.
Although in the original play Brick is haunted by homosexuality, this theme was unacceptable to Hollywood's moral code of the time. So in the film, Brick is troubled by the guilt that he drove his friend, Skipper, to kill himself.
Disgusted by society's lies ("the system we live in," as Big Daddy says), Brick finds that his own lies about his relationship with Skipper are the true cause of his lack of sexual attraction to Maggie: "I let [Skipper] down."
His life is a lie, not the result (effect) of the lies of others. As Big Daddy tells him, by example, "Grownups don't hang up on their friends" (Brick hung up on Skipper's telephone call before Skipper killed himself).
By being shown the cause and effect of his lies, Brick finds truth and character again. Having faced the truth he can now face Maggie's sexual needs and try to satisfy them.
This cause and effect drama is acted out in the cellar where Brick and Big Daddy face each other. Big Daddy learns that things (his purchases) have come in the way of the truth (the love he was unable to show his family).
Before this, Maggie had challenged Brick's distance from his father, asking, "What's he ever done to you?" Her question exposed, by contradiction, the lie father and son have lived.
Now reconciled by facing their own lies, the son is assured of the father's inheritance. The brother, Gooper, accepts the situation because he trusts that Brick did not try to turn their father against him. Thus Brick's character (his integrity) completes the Communication Triangle.
Aristotle said Rhetoric consisted of
(1) inventing what to say,
(2) finding the right order for these ideas,
(3) using the right words,
(4) memory, and
(5) body language (giving the speech).
In the beginning, Maggie uses ways to persuade Brick to share her concerns (Big Daddy's inheritance), but there is no ground for agreement. She does not try to suit the speaker (herself) to her audience (Brick) and offends Brick to where he tries to hit her with his crutch.
Her words fail for the same reason. They're too blunt. Shouting Skipper's name threatens Brick rather than convinces him. As the first shots of the film show, Brick wants the cheer of a crowd, not the jeer of a wife.
Her gestures are wrong too. Fixing her stockings or throwing kisses at Brick is less likely to arouse him than to increase his sexual guilt, therefore disgust.
Brick's rhetoric is also poor since he uses mostly silence. His body language shows rejection of Maggie, as when he repeatedly turns away from her or even wipes her kiss from his lips.
His main body language is to wield his crutch like a weapon (he injured himself jumping hurdles when drunk) and to limp. Both actions are symbolic, suggesting Brick's sexual impotence. When he speaks in denial, he raises his voice. But when he confesses the truth to Big Daddy, about himself and about Big Daddy, his voice softens almost to a whisper.
Thus vocal stress can be achieved by low as well as high volume. It's the contrast of vocal styles that counts, not how loud.
When Rhetoric emerged, writing was not common even among educated speakers. So the art of memory was important.
The good speaker had to memorize a presentation lasting hours. This did not mean rote memory, but the ability to recall the outline of one's argument, commonplaces, and vocabulary.
Memory relied on mnemonic (memory) devices, or tricks to aid recall. For example, important points to remember might be distributed along a familiar street, each point located in a favorite spot on that street: a church, a yard, a department store, a friend's home, etc. By recalling the street one recalled the details of one's speech.
But memory also relied on a thesaurus or treasury of ideas one could use any time, including common "places" (definition, division, etc.) and specific "places," such as proverbs, laws, precedents, examples, etc.
But in view of the Communication Triangle, speaking depends on the memories of one's audience. Besides using the right words ("lies," "mendacity," "bull"), words that define the dilemma all the characters are in, Big Daddy appeals to Brick's memory of what happened between him and Skipper.
Also, as a dying man, Big Daddy assumes a dignity that aids his persuasion of Brick. His physical pain suggests Brick's psychological pain.
Finally, knowing his son, he can use persuasion suitably. Thus he knows Brick didn't drink until his relationship with Skipper; so he can use cause and effect to get to the bottom of Brick's guilt.
Gooper also tries to persuade, pleading with his mother, Big Mama (Judith Anderson) that, "Whatever Big Daddy said, I did!" That's his cause and effect argument to prove he's a good son.
But arguments are not enough. Gooper shows no integrity, so is unable to complete the Communication Triangle. Even when the doctor angrily says he wished there was a pill to get rid of people, Gooper misunderstands the remark as a routine goodbye instead of as a stinging criticism of Gooper and his wife, Mae.
Besides her weak character, Mae uses annoying rhetoric of show (the parade of her children, etc.) and wordplay ("punch bowl" for "Rose Bowl") to advance her interests. Even her husband advises her to shut up at the end. Otherwise the couple rely mainly on special topics, such as Documents (newspaper reports about Brick's drunken night hurdles) to show that Brick is unworthy of an inheritance.
As play and movie, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is subject to rhetorical analysis. Defined as a tragedy, or even a drama, the text fails. Its histrionics tend more to soap opera than legitimate drama.
The metaphors (analogies) of a storm, homosexuality, claudication (limping), and cancer are too melodramatic for the play's main theme, Truth. The "big," once shocking, secrets seem dated today when cancer is curable and there are homosexual marriages; while the intimacy of the movie screen makes Brick's limping seem ludicrous rather than pathetic or significant.
The lesson that love is all you need and that money can't buy it seems banal for true drama, especially one whose theme is painful Truth. Besides, as Tennessee Williams himself observed about the revised stage version, a haunted character like Brick is unlikely to find cure so easily.
Mae's children (the "no-neck monsters") seem more suited for an Expressionistic drama than for the naturalism of Williams' play. They seem to express Maggie's envious view of them more than what one is likely to find in real life, even Southern life. The symbolism of Mae's little girl shooting a gun while Brick lies impotent on the floor is one example.
The disregard his parents show to Gooper also seems exaggerated, more suited to outsiders than to family. Such familial estrangement is possible, but the drama does not make it probable or give reasons for it.
Richard Brooks' film direction seems labored. The staging of the children's scenes is overdone, weakening the dramatic conflict from the beginning. One party to the conflict (Gooper's family) is so ridiculous to never seem a real threat to the other (the Brick Pollitt couple).
The acting is unaffecting. Only Paul Newman as Brick Pollitt, Burl Ives as Big Daddy, and Madeleine Sherwood as Mae Pollitt give credible performances. Even they are limited by their stagey characters, who behave the way their author wishes them to act rather than as real people.
Judith Anderson seems out of place in this confused mix of tragedy and melodrama. Jack Carson as Gooper Pollitt looks clueless, while Larry Gates as Dr. Baugh seems more suited to television soap opera than drama. Surely his character is no professional doctor, but an actor playing at one with unintentionally comic gravity and even agony.
Maggie the Cat was Elizabeth Taylor's defining role as a serious actress. She does nothing with it, despite her Oscar nomination. Emotional stridency and an exaggerated Southern accent are no substitutes for acting, as her flamboyant reading of her lines show: "We're not living together: we occupy the same cage, that's all!"
Moreover she's too beautiful for the role of Maggie the Cat, who should have only average sex appeal, to make her rejection by Brick painful. It's hard to believe a woman as beautiful as Taylor could be bothered by the sexual failure of a husband with plenty of suitable replacements waiting in line.
Less than major drama, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof seems more like a curious fossil of the anxieties of American masculinity and troubled adolescence in the 1950s, a decade haunted by fears of homosexuality in men even as male homosexuals dominated the culture of the time, whether its concert music or the New York stage.
CALIFORNIA'S OLDEST INMATEBy J. Michael Kennedy, Times Staff Writer
April 10, 2007
The following profile has been edited down from a longer essay that partly focuses on the California parole system. By editing it, I turned it, I put the focus on the man rather than the social issues of the prison system. So students who refer to the original essay can see how editing can "revise" an essay, that is, see it from a different point of view:
At 94, John Rodriguez has the dubious distinction of being the oldest inmate in the California prison system.
Focus is quickly established through the means of Definition: placing John Rodriguez in the class of 1) old men, 2) prisoners. Then the writer moves to a lower level of generality, followed by an antithesis based on cause-effect (because he's a murderer he's not sympathetic):
He looks the part, with his snow-white hair and unsteady gait. But given the crime that put him in prison, he's hardly a sympathetic character.
A yet lower level of generality, giving details of the murder, using cause-effect to do so, with some indirect quotation ("he claimed").
Rodriguez murdered his wife during a drunken rage on a December day in 1981. He claimed she'd been cheating on him. For that, he stabbed her 26 times with a paring knife. His punishment was a sentence of 16 years to life, and he's spent most of it at the California Men's Colony in San Luis Obispo.
The next means ("commonplace") is Division, dividing up Rodriquez's current life: he uses a walker, is hard of hearing, has arthritis, is forgetful, has taken hard falls, and lives in the prison hospital. Lower levels of generality are shown by underline.
Rodriguez uses a walker and is hard of hearing. He has arthritis and is often forgetful. He's taken some hard falls over the years, breaking his arms and severely bruising himself. He's lived in the prison hospital for two years, sleeping in a dormitory setting rather than a cell.
Personal description follows:
He's become a fixture around the low-security hospital, where his normal daytime attire is pajama bottoms and a blue prison shirt. Part of his routine is a Sunday visit to the Indian sweat lodge on the prison grounds.
Cause effect ("remorse," "jealousy"):
Rodriguez says he has remorse over the murder, that he was insane with jealousy because his much younger wife had taken up with a man closer to her age.
Dialogue goes to lower levels of generality from the previous paragraph, typical of quoted speech in profiles:
"I just want to get out and be left alone," he said. "I'm sorry for what happened and I shouldn't have done it."
The key word, "murder," continues coherence, by linking past paragraphs to the next:
No one, including Rodriguez, tries to downplay the murder that sent him to prison.
Lower level of generality: from Rodriguez to his murder. The next paragraphs are called "narration" (of time) rather than "description" (of place, people, or things). Note strong verbs: "recounted" (not "told"); "consumed" (not "drank").
As Rodriguez recounted to police, he began drinking early that morning in 1981 and, by about 5 p.m., had consumed an estimated 18 beers.
He then went to Trejo's home and struck her when she opened the door. He began stabbing her with a paring knife, chasing her from room to room as she tried to escape. After he killed her, Rodriguez walked to his own home, where he was waiting when police arrived to arrest him. He was 68 at the time.
Common in profiles, narration is not chronological, but shifts back and forth from present to past. Note however that sometimes chronology must be strict, as in the narration of the murder, which was narrated step by step ("He then went to Trejo's home" and "After he killed her," etc.).
John Rodriguez was born in Mexico and spent most of his life in Louisiana, Texas and California. His criminal history includes several drunk driving offenses and a conviction for dealing heroin.
During his working life, Rodriguez was a cook, an interpreter and a delivery driver. He now spends much of his day lying in a prison hospital bed, though he takes pride in the fact that he still has some vigor left.
The previous paragraph links past and present by antithesis ("He now spends," etc.). The profile ends with quoted speech. Journalistic writing commonly uses "weak" endings rather than strong endings as in classical writing. This is typical of a "slice-of-life" look at people, probably influenced by the news media as well as the cinema of realism. In other words, there are no "neat" endings. One feels this profile might have ended in any number of ways. The writer chose an up-close look at the thinking of an aged murderer who still takes pride in something even if he's in prison.
"I don't look like I'm old," he said. "There's a 70-year-old man here who looks older than me."
Poet Seidel relates his inspired lifeIt is late morning, dark and cozy in the Carlyle's Gallery lounge. The Twin Towers have fallen. George W. Bush is president. Robert Kennedy is dead. Ezra Pound is a modernist. Seidel rides a motorcycle.
By HILLEL ITALIE, AP NEW YORK
The poet is 71. He loves Fred Astaire.
"I want it all to matter," he says, "whether it gets down on the page or not."
Using an expletive ("It is"), the writer establishes the setting ("late morning," "Carlyle's Gallery"), then the time by touchstones (references to the Twin Towers, poet, Ezra Pound, etc.), which seem arbitrary; but that's the point, as the first quote shows: "I want it all to matter." Already the writer has a point-of-view about his subject as an odd person. Then he establishes a background of the writer for those unfamilair with him (the second sentence goes to lower levels of generality, from poems to kinds of poems):
For more than 50 years, Seidel has been writing poems — topical poems and timeless poems. Poems about sex, the cosmos, motorcycles and growing old. Difficult, troubling poems that may or may not have rhyme or meter, or may or may not have an obvious meaning, but still leave brave readers feeling the presence of a strange and brilliant mind.
Good descriptive prose about the subject's appearance:
Wearing a jacket and slacks, no tie, Seidel is a casual, cultured man with a high forehead and a spark of scandal in his eyes. He almost never talks to the press, but agreed to an Associated Press interview in support of "Ooga-Booga," his most recent collection. The Carlyle, across town from his Upper West Side apartment, is a favorite locale, honored in his poem, "Frederick Seidel," in which he declares: "I am a result of the concierge of the Carlyle."
The dialogue takes us to a lower level of generality from the previous mention of the Carlyle Hotel:
"I like being alone, and I like hotels," he says, noting that hotels often are in his poems. "I like the sense of being safely enclosed, anonymous, but not — able to feel cosseted and comforted and protected by what's around, but left alone by it. That's what I think is terrific about hotels. You're alone, but you're not."
"Writes" refers back to a previous paragraph about the poet's writing, also taking us to lower levels of generality, but this time using indirect dialogue for variety and economy (saving words). "Even" takes us to lower levels of generality, further describing the poet's indifference:
He writes day and night, he says, and appears not to worry about who reads him. A recent nominee for the National Book Critics Circle Award, he didn't attend the ceremony and didn't bother writing a statement in case he won (he didn't). Even his new book's cover, a mocking, menacing head shot of Seidel taken in a photo booth, has an "open, if you dare," quality.
The writer now uses contrast as antithesis to the poet's indifference (what would he do if Oprah Winfrey came calling). This is followed by an analogy ("like being paid," etc.). The paragrah concludes on "definition," a commonplace putting the poet as a "type of artist" Winfrey might admire:
Asked what his reaction would be if Oprah Winfrey came calling, Seidel dismisses the idea, then briefly welcomes it, if only for the weirdness, like being paid to write a poem while bungee jumping. But in a way Seidel might appreciate, he's the type of artist Winfrey would probably admire, for his poems are a triumph of cosmic awe in the face of earthly terror.
After describing the poet's work in the last paragraph, the writer gets to lower levels of generality in the next:
The news is often bad in his work, whether the crash of the World Trade Center or the failings of his own body ("The melanoma on my skin/Resumes what's wrong with me within"). The same man who spells suicidal "sui-Seidel"), remains wondrous, fascinated, grateful to be alive, much in love with "the sky above."
The quote takes us to lower levels of generality from the last paragraph:
"I'm quite taken up with what's going on now, when it's going on. I like the times I'm living in. In fact, it's been a privilege, a fascination, to be living through these decades," he says.
Now we get the usual biographical background to vary the present with the past and give the reader some perspective on the profile subject:
A native of St. Louis, Seidel has been a dedicated writer since age 13, when poetry cast its spell. The author was seated in a school library, reading Time magazine instead of doing his homework, when he spotted an article about Ezra Pound and read an excerpt from one of his cantos, "What thou lovest well remains/the rest is dross."
In profiles, quotes usually go to lower levels of generality from the previous, more general, descriptive prose, as here:
"It was just a wand, a Disney wand with sparkles, touching me, sparkles almost piercing — the almost unbearable beauty of those lines, which are as beautiful now, some years later, as they were then," he says.
Definition advances the profile by putting Seidel in the class of other modernist poets like Eliot and Pound. Definition is also used to list the "lot of people" the poet met, which takes us to a lower level of generality:
A young modernist was born, who would well carry on the tradition of classical learning and contemporary dread. Seidel not only read Pound and T.S. Eliot, but got to know them. He's met a lot of people: from fashion designer Diane von Furstenberg to John F. Kennedy, who visited the Harvard University campus while Seidel was a student and Kennedy a senator.
More Definition is used ("a wealthy man's son") and a comic analogy ("as [=like] an agent of fate"):
Fitting for a wealthy man's son — his father ran a coal-and-coke business — Seidel did not really ask to see his heroes, but insisted on it, presented himself as an agent of fate. He remembers first contacting Pound in the 1950s, when Seidel was an undergraduate and Pound was institutionalized at St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Washington, D.C.
Months later, an airmail special delivery postcard arrived from St. Elizabeth's, with "an illegible scrawl on it." Upon close inspection, Seidel realized he had received an invitation.
Lower levels of generality, typical of quoted speech in profiles:
"I took a Greyhound bus from Cambridge, Mass., to Washington and saw Pound. I planned to stay a couple of days and stayed more and more," he recalls.
With Pound's help, Seidel met Eliot, when the poet was living in London and working as a publisher at Faber & Faber. Seidel never doubted they would get along. Both were poets, from St. Louis, friends of Ezra Pound. A meeting was arranged at Eliot's office, where Seidel encountered his secretary, Valerie Fletcher, who would soon become Eliot's wife.
Again the quoted speech moves to lower levels of generality from the previous narrated paragrah:
"When I arrived, 17-18 years old, she said to me, in a very shocked way, and an unfriendly way, `You shouldn't be here at all. He shouldn't be seeing you at all. He's quite sick, so for heaven's sake, don't stay long.'"
Good use of short paragraphs. The writer also uses "epistrophe" (repeating the last word in a sentence: "long") in order to insure coherence. "Hours" takes "long" to a lower level of generality, also advancing coherence:
He stayed long.
"Hours," he says. "We had a wonderful time."
Some more background information. Profiles usually are ordered from present to past and forward again to add variety to the writing. Note that the book title, Final Solutions, is set off by quotes ("Final Solutions") instead of italics. This is common in popular print forms like newspapers, etc. But the accepted form in book style is italics. Now the writer uses Cause-Effect to develop the narration. A parenthesis is also nicely used to describe how Seidel enjoys "Scandal!"
Seidel caused a bit of controversy — "Scandal!" he calls it, eyes alive with pleasure — even before his first book, "Final Solutions," came out. In 1962, he was to receive a poetry award from the 92nd Street Y in New York City, but was told to remove some references to former first lady Mamie Eisenhower, for fear of libel.
"Request" links this paragraph to the last by a lower level of generality:
The request was denied, the award revoked. Atheneum Books had promised to publish his book, changed its mind and "Final Solutions" was eventually released by Random House. Seidel waited 17 years before putting out another.
Again, quoted speech moves to a lower level of generality from the last narration:
"I wrote a bit after that, but then I stopped, because I felt I did not know how to say something new, and that it would be important to wait until I did," he says.
The next paragraph might have begun with more obvious coherence in the form, "He resists interviews to conserve his creative life," etc. Instead the writer chose reversed word order to add interest ("One reason"):
One reason he resists interviews is not just protection of his private life, but the conservation of his creative life, as if every word released were so much energy burned. Poetry, he explains, is a state of mind apart from the poet, yet also above the poet, below the poet, and deeply within.
On a lower level of generality, this quote explains the previous narration at a lower level of generality:
"You're doing so many things on so many tracks at the same time — dozens and dozens of things, mentally — that were you successfully to separate out the different strands, you would make the task impossible," says Seidel, now the author of 11 books, including "Sunrise," winner of National Book Critics Circle Prize in 1981, and "Going Fast," a finalist in 1999 for the Pulitzer.
Some more epistrophe ("own world," "the world"). Then speech goes to a lower level of generality ("A boulevard of elegance").
He is in his own world, but very much of the world. "A boulevard of elegance," as he has written of himself, he is mad about movies and music and a connoisseur of politics, as pastime and metaphysics. He is one poet for whom presidents matter, not only as lawmakers, but as cultural forces, whose personal essence becomes public matter.
Again speech goes to a lower level of generality from previous narration. The final paragraphs go to progressively lower levels of generality, insuring coherence. The profile ends on a quote, using Definition (of Robert Kennedy) as a Definition of the poet himself (that is, they belong in the same class):
"I'm very much aware of politics, because I very much enjoy politics," he says. "There have been a few blank periods when I was deprived of my pleasure. . . . But, for the most part, it's very much a part of what I see as coloring the world, permeating the world."
He has written an ode to the Kennedy administration ("We could love politics for its mind!/All seemed possible") and an anti-ode to the Bush administration ("The United States of America preemptively eats the world"). Other presidents have bored him (Ronald Reagan) or fascinated him, but not to the point of poetry (Richard Nixon).
One man truly moved him. Seidel has likened Robert Kennedy, assassinated in 1968 as he ran for president, to a character out of Yeats and has written that Kennedy was the only politician he ever loved. When discussing Kennedy during his interview, Seidel sounds as if he could be describing himself.
"He had a fierce sincerity, he meant it. He was almost scary, and was quite willing to say the wrong thing," Seidel says. "He tried to fight his way forward to where he got, and where he got, I thought, was admirable, inspired and inspiring."
Mercury rises for Isabelle WenThe writer begins strongly, using commonplaces of contradiction (what Isabelle Wen is not doing) and contrast. The paragraph ends with apposition, defining the "collection" as "a futuristic slant on what-to-wear":
By Jules Quartly
The mercurial Isabelle Wen decided against a runway show this year and instead transformed her Taipei atelier into an art space to introduce her Spring/Summer collection, a futuristic slant on what-to-wear.
Vivid descriptive prose selectively establishes the setting. The subject is a fashion designer, so naturally the details relate to her fashion business. Usually "of course" is an annoying excess, but here it works fine because it makes clear the writer knows that referring to "models running around" is a bit obvious. Antithesis is used well ("but clothes were" the main focus), and also comparison: "like three-dimensional works of art."
There were models running around, of course, but clothes were the principal focus and they hung from the ceiling in the central exhibition area, suspended in space, slowly rotating like three-dimensional works of art.
The writer now moves to a higher level of generality, placing the fashion show in a wider context:
They were framed by a multi-media exhibition held over two nights. A digital art projection by Lee Ji-hong splashed light around the entrance of Wen's studio, while a nearby installation piece fashioned from cotton represented dreams and clouds.
In a small gallery leading to the main room there were manipulated photographic images of Wen by art coordinator Nicolas Chu. In the "floating room" there was a bed with a spectacular comforter made from orange ping-pong balls, by Chen Hui-chiao.
By referring to "bed" in the previous paragraph, the writer insures coherence, linking the two paragraphs. The writer then uses a strong verb ("beaming").
Opposite the bed was a television beaming images from a Wen fashion shoot at the Museum of Tomorrow, on Civil Boulevard.
The writer moves to lower levels of generality within the same paragraph:
Models with bobbed, neon blue hair wore brushed-silver midi coats, pop art mini dresses and golden Formula 1 driving shoes.
Cause-Effect follows (the fashion shoot "introduces [Wen's] futuristic Mercury collection"). A lower level of generality describes the "overall impression." The paragraph ends contrasting this show and previous shows ("similarity/difference"):
Isabelle Wen's fashion shoot at the Museum of Tomorrow introduces her futuristic Mercury collection. The overall impression was of neat, clean-cut designs with an emphasis on metallic colors. It was a more minimalist approach than in the past and the garments appeared to be easier to wear.
"Definition" of "concept": "Barbarella," etc.
A transparent raincoat caught the eye, with its white belt buckle and a crystal-embossed angel design on the back. As did the mini-jacket with a silver snake pattern and matching bag. The concept appeared to be, "Barbarella hits the night market for her space outfit."
Cause-Effect: "I called the collection," etc. Note there's nothing special about this quote, but it works. We catch the subject in an ordinary exchange of words, not the usual greeting, etc. Some more Cause-Effect follows on the nature of Wen's inspiration:
"I called the collection Mercury, after the planet and the [element]," Wen said at the opening last week. "Usually I am inspired by a dream or something to produce a collection, but this time the clothes came first and the name came after."
Some descriptive prose, even a short sentence might have set off these two quotes better, instead of making it look like the writer is just adding quote after quote:
"I ordered the fabric and had all the ideas about 10 months ago, but then something horrible happened and I just wanted some light, something shiny in my life, so that was why I came up with the concept."
The writer uses a quoted word ("horrible") from Wen's previous speech to insure coherence in the next paragraph, where he also uses indirect quotation to condense or sum up previous quotes of Wen instead of wasting time quoting every single word:
The "horrible" event Wen referred to was the crash of Idee department store four months ago, when Rebar Group Chairman Wang You-theng fled the country with other people's billions. Wen had four outlets in the store and said she lost NT$20 million.
"We have sued them already but we can't get our money back because it belongs to the bank. The company of Isabelle, the fashion brand, has almost gone back to the first year because of this.
"Wang You-tseng, I think he's horrible, he's destroyed Taiwan. Actually, I'm super good friends with his daughter [Idee chairwoman Wang Lin-mei] and a couple of weeks after it happened we had dinner together. You know, even after three hours, I couldn't say a thing. What could she do?
"I couldn't even pay the New Year bonus. I tell you it was so bad, so many small companies went down because of this. I cried for weeks."
A lot of quotes here, but what is quoted is of interest. Next the writer describes an important action (Wen trashing her store):
At around the same time management at Taipei 101 decided she could not renew her store's contract. Wen was livid and trashed her store the night after it closed.
"This" nicely refers back to the content of the writer's previous paragraph:
"This was their policy, they didn't want Taiwan brands on the second floor, they made it very clear. It almost made me want to give up Taiwan. I can't understand their thinking."
More coherence using the demonstrative pronoun "these" to refer back to the previous paragraph. Quotes around "huge losses" makes it clear the words are Wen's:
It was these "huge losses" that led to the decision not to hold a traditional fashion show and ultimately rethink her business.
The dialogue takes us to lower levels of generality using cause-effect:
"Actually I did not want to do anything and I could not afford to do the runway presentation, so the fashion-as-art exhibition was a response to these terrible things."
Good antithesis ("but") to insure coherence (linking to the previous paragraph):
But adversity is the mother of invention and Wen has risen to the challenge before. Her new collection is strong and she has employed an operation director, Sandrine Boscaro Compain, to take her brand to the next level, especially abroad.
A descriptive phrase ("The French-Italiam business school graduate) defines as it replaces the proper noun, Wen:
The French-Italian business school graduate said she was consolidating operations and developing sales and marketing strategies.
The dialogue takes us to lower levels of generality:
"I have no logic, I need someone to do this for me," Wen said.
Now the writer returns to indirect discourse, using only selective phrases instead. Cause-Effect is the main means of development here (why Wen wants to leave Taiwan):
But whether she stays in Taiwan is another question. She said the country was "totally crashing" and was obviously feeling bruised by the financial crisis at Idee and the attitude of Taipei 101's managers.
It appeared she wanted to escape her problems here, as much as succeed elsewhere.
"Maybe my ideas are not totally suitable for Taiwanese and if I go elsewhere then they will appreciate me more. Perhaps this is the way," Wen said.
Now the writer moves to lower levels of generality: Not why, but where. The writer concludes defining "movement" not only physically but artistically ("moving forward"). He then blends a direct quote ("fashion is art") inside an indirect quotation ("what she designs") and ends with a flashy antecedent-consequence (before/after) in approval: that is, what Wen designs today is what people will wear tomorrow.
As for whether the direction would be east or west, this seemed to be moot. Either way, Wen is moving forward. As she says, "fashion is art for the future" and what she designs today is what we will be wearing tomorrow. Adapted from the Taipei Times.
Where Karl Lagerfeld lives
by John Colapinto March 19, 2007
Note: Because other samples I have used are rather scanty on descriptive prose, I am sending this supplemntary material to study. This is only part of page one of a ten-page profile published in the New Yorker. (Click on link to read the whole profile.) For serious students, it is advised to study more, if not all, of the profile. However, for class purposes, my sample portion, with commentary and analysis, below, is sufficient.
The headquarters of Chanel are situated in two adjacent eighteenth-century buildings on the Rue Cambon, in Paris, occupying a labyrinthine suite of rooms on five floors, above a street-level Chanel boutique.
Strong opening paragraph, which precisely establishes the setting of the interview/profile that follows. Note the precise words: "adjacent" (nearby), "eighteenth-century buildings," "a labyrinthine suite of rooms," "on five floors," "above a street-level Chanel boutique." Note the prepositional modification here: "of Chanel," "on the Rue Cambon," "in Paris," "on five floors," and "above a . . . boutique." This shows the writer is observing carefully, since each prepositional phrase involves a lower level of generality. Compare a more general paragraph without interest: "The headquarters was in Paris." Or even, "The headquarters was in an old-fashioned street in Paris." Neither of those sentences has the slightest interest for a reader.
One evening last December, Karl Lagerfeld, the label’s artistic director, and twenty-two assistants—hair, makeup, shoes, jewelry, music—crammed into a room on the complex’s top floor to conduct a fitting for a collection that was to be shown six days later, in Monte Carlo.
Karl Lagerfeld is defined by apposition as "the label's artistic director." The writer makes good use of a parenthesis to define the assistants ("hair, makeup, shoes, jewelry, music"), while at t he same time slightly suggesting a playful mockery of the ritual involved in fashion.
Many male designers wear T-shirts and jeans not only to work but also at runway shows—as if to suggest that they are somehow above the world of trend and fashion they inhabit. Lagerfeld, who was dressed in a tight Dior suit of broad gray and blue stripes, and a pair of aviator sunglasses, disdains this practice.
The writer now uses comparison to contrast Lagerfield and other male designers (Lagerfield is not above fashion). This is also comparison by contradiction, saying who Lagerfield "is" by what Lagerfield "is not." There's also a good use of an emphatic dash ("as if to suggest that they are somehow above . . . fashion"). A relative clause ("who was dressed") allows for descriptive prose of what Lagerfield was wearing. This descriptiion is selective and does not include all of Lagerfield's wardrobe (for example, his shirt), either because the shirt is not interesting in itself or (as in this case) because the writer wishes to break up his descriptiion with a brief quote from Lagerfield first, adding variety to his prose.
“I don’t think I’m too good for what I’m doing,” he says.
Now the writer uses more selective speech, which seems to sum up Lagerfield in comparison with other male designers. This suits the writer's needs to focus on a theme.
His starched shirt had a four-inch-high collar that fit snugly under his chin, and his hair—whitened with a gesso-like dry shampoo—was pulled into a ponytail. His large belt buckle was encrusted with diamonds; his tie, looped with silver chains, was fixed with a jade Cartier clasp from the nineteen-twenties. He was wearing fingerless black biker gloves that bore silver grommets, etched with the Chanel logo, on each knuckle and were equipped, at the wrists, with small zippers that carried faintly S & M overtones.
The writer continues with Lagerfield's wardrobe (starched shirt with four-inch collar), then gets to lower levels of generality, moving from the Lagerfeld's wardrobe to his accessories, capturing the themed fashion statement with his details: chains, grommets (tiny rings), small zippers, suggesting "S & M" (sadomasochism). Thus the details are for a purpose: Lagerfield, in high-fashion clothes, S & M accessories, and a "ponytail" emerges as a complex (or at least many-sided) fashion plate. The following speech quote (below) gives us Lagerfield's own point-of-view of his appearance, and allows some variety before the writer concludes his descriptive prose:
“Très chic, non?” he said, holding up a hand to be admired. A chunky Chrome Hearts ring adorned the pinkie finger, over the glove.
Lagerfeld took a seat at a long table at one end of the room. Sipping from a glass of Coke Zero—fresh glasses were brought to him at intervals on a lacquer tray by an assistant—he surveyed the fitting model, a baby-faced woman with a slim, ideally proportioned body, which Lagerfeld nevertheless judged to be a little plump.
Note, the writer does not describe "a long table," which is presented at a high level of generality. All writing is selective and with a purpose, therefore a focus: here, Lagerfeld. It doesn't suit the writer's purpose to describe the furniture in the room and too many descriptive details would detract from focus on Lagerfeld, which is what the profile is about. Note however the descriptive details ("sipping from a glass of Coke" and "he surveyed the fitting model," herself characterized, appositively, as "a baby-faced woman"). Note also that "ideally proportiooned" is weakly general: but it was intended to be so, in order to set off Lagerfeld's judgment that she is "a little plump," thus further defining Lagerfeld in contrast to ordinary judgments. Note, additionally, how precise Lagerfeld is about how much the model should lose ("maybe two kilos"), further defining his character as professionally precise (as if to say, "this man is an expert and knows, to the exact pound or kilo, how much weight a model should lose"). Finally, note again a fine use of a parenthetical phrase offset by dashes ("fresh glasses were brought to him at intervals on a lacquer tray by an assistant"), a repetitive action that insures that the reader knows that Lagerfeld is the object of attention at the show.
“She has maybe two kilos that she should lose,” he whispered to his top assistant, Virginie Viard.
Selective use of dialogue, as if to say: "This man is always thinking about body shape."
Over the next three hours, the model tried on a series of garments that Lagerfeld had spent the previous six weeks conceiving: embroidered tweed skirt suits, tulle dresses festooned with camellias, and skintight flannel-Lycra pants.
Strong descriptive prose, with concrete nouns and specific adjectives ("embroidered tweed," "tulle," "skintight flannel-Lycra," etc.) and one strong verb ("festooned")..
Each garment provoked swooning cries from his retinue:
“Oooo, là, Karl!”
“Très jolie!”
“Superbe!”
Selective use of dialogue; here short phrases are sufficient for the writer's purpose, namely Lagerfeld as a subject of praise. The French, of course, reminds us of the locale (Paris) and the culture.
Lagerfeld accepted the praise with a shrug.
The writer contrasts the "swooning cries" of his admirers with Lagerfeld's own indifferent "shrug," thus using the topic of "comparison" to describe Lagerfeld.
“I do my job like I breathe,” he said, in his customary manner—rapid, declamatory speech made more emphatic by a heavy German accent. “So if I can’t breathe I’m in trouble!”
Some more selective use of speech; moreover, the writer descriptively characterizes that speech, as "rapid, declamatory" and with a "heavy German accent."
A Profile of Morgan Freeman
with analysis and commentaryWhen it is sailing season in the Caribbean, that is where you’ll find Morgan Freeman, alone.
Begins with interest, on a subordinate clause ("When it is sailing season"). The demonstrative pronoun ("that") refers back to "Caribbean," keeping coherence. Then we are introduced to the subject of the profile, Morgan Freeman, ending on the strong adjective, "alone."
"Him" in the next sentence refers back to the previous sentence, keeping coherence.
60 Minutes met him first in The Virgin Islands, aboard his boat.
“This boat is a Shannon 43. It's one of the 12 best-built boats in the entire world,” explains Freeman.
Note the repeated motifs: "sailing," "boat," "alone," "by himself," "challenge," "life or death,"and "no quarter" ("mercy"), all related to the theme of "boating." Composers do the same thing, linking musical phrases to a greater compositional pattern to tell a (musical) story coherently:
Freeman goes out sailing by himself, saying he enjoys the challenge.
“If you live a life of make-believe, your life isn't worth anything until you do something that does challenge your reality. And to me, sailing the open ocean is a real challenge, because it's life or death. There's no quarter,” says Freeman.
The quotes vividly sum up Freeman's personal philosophy, before, by the simple means of an antithetical conjunction ("But"), the writer continues to the main theme: acting, defining "acting" in contrast to boating as a "make-believe world," again keeping coherence (coherence always moves back and ahead, linking all ideas together, the way a composer refers back to a melody before but then develops it (does something different to it: instrumentation, volume, faster (diminution), slower (augmentation), thus taking the coherence forward too. For example, in Eric Carmen's "All By Myself," the theme is repeated, but at far greater volume when it is done so, thus referring back (it's the same theme as before) as well as moving forward (it's played differently).
But he spends most of his time in that make-believe world of acting.
Now the writer moves to a lower level of generality, from "acting" to a specific kind of acting: "character roles," also using the topic (commonplace) of "cause and effect" to develop the reasons WHY Freeman prefers character roles. Note also the use of contrast: "acting" and "stardom." Note too the musical repetition, like before. But now the motif is "acting" (and related words), not sailing (and related words):
“I like the character roles. Somewhere back there I really came to the conclusion in my mind that the difference between acting and stardom was major. And that if you become a star, people are going to go to see you. If you remain an actor, they're going to go and see the story you're in,” says Freeman.
I've underlined "story" above because the writer then uses this motif (word) to keep coherence in his next paragraph, starting with "stories." Yet "played in" refers back to "acting," thus keeping coherence with that theme too; while "film history" is a more general head to the motif of acting; that is, it is at a higher level of generality to acting. Note, then, in the next paragraph the repeat of the word, "roles," linking all these motifs together: movie history, acting, stardom, etc. Note too that the paragraph is only one line long, contradicting the teaching idea that one-line paragraphs are wrong. Of course they're not wrong; they're very useful, if well done, as transition paragraphs:
Some of the stories he has played in are among the most memorable in film history, including “The Shawshank Redemption,” alongside Clint Eastwood in “Unforgiven,” and opposite Jessica Tandy in “Driving Miss Daisy.”
All those roles seem to be made for him.
The next paragraph starts with apposition ("a late bloomer"), which, of course, links with Freeman. The coherence here is simply chronology (sometimes the order of ideas is obvious, as here, moving from early to late career). "27" of course refers back to "late bloomer"; while "34" refers back to "27," to keep coherence, insured by the use of the preposition, "by." At the same time, the theme of acting is kept, with related words like "career" and "theatre." A lower level of generality follows with the name of his first show ("The Electric Company"). "Show" is also related to the acting vocabulary, again keeping coherence:
A late bloomer, Freeman began his professional career in theater when he was 27. By age 34, he was the “Easy Reader” on TV’s “The Electric Company” kids' show.
Coherence is kept by simple chronology, as before. The acting theme is shown by underlined words. Note that "Million Dollar Baby" is a lower level of generality than "films" and "nominations" is a lower level of generality than "Academy Award," as "performance" is yet lower than "nomination" ("nomination" is general while "performance" is specific).
Thirty-three years, 41 films and four Oscar nominations later came his first Academy Award win last year, for his performance with Hilary Swank and Clint Eastwood in “Million Dollar Baby.”
Then the writer returns to a main motif, that of "role," using the "cause and effect" topic to develop this motif differently. Note the repetition of related words "approach" (=acting), "role," "there" (=acting), and then a bunch of pronouncs that refer to this motif ("it," "those," "ones"), again keeping coherence. But also note how the simple pronoun, "I," links all these sentences (as does "you," which refers to "I" too in third-person case). "My" refers to "I" in possessive case. I have italicized these examples below. Of course, this is quoted speech, not the writer's work. But the writer knew when to quote because of the interest of the quote and its use in the whole profile:
How does he approach a role?
“Yeah, how do you get there? My approach to acting is that I am totally intuitive. I read the script and I get it. If I don't get it, I can't do it. Those are the ones I say, ‘I don't think this is the role for me.’ They'll be ‘But, oh, no you don't want to . . . ’ I know.”
Next we get to a higher level of generality (remember, lower levels of generality are not always better!). At the same time, coherence is kept because of a related family of ideas: roles, acting. The quote, "I was born to do it," may not be meaningful and disputed (most would doubt whether one is "born" to do anything), but it's a colorful quote and defines the subject, Freeman. Then we get another "cause and effect" topic ("going to movies" and "I can do that").
Freeman says he was drawn to acting by birth. “I was born to do it.”
He says he realized his calling around the age of 12, going to movies and saying to himself, “I can do that.”
“I can. Yeah. I had teachers tell me, ‘You’re magic, you’re good. You found your calling,’” Freeman remembers.
I have no idea why the writer includes the clause, "but a region that recently escaped the wrath of Hurrican Katrina," since it has no relationship with the subject; I would have deleted that clause, as shown below. Even the appositive, "the birthplace of the blues" makes no sense, unless Freeman had claimed influence from the blues. So I'm crossing that out too. It's as if the writer lost inspiration, or focus, here, and didn't know how to develop his paragrah, so added on an unnecessary bunch of phrases. Still, "that calling" links back to "acting," which has been the main theme of the profile. Next the writer goes to yet higher levels of generality: the actor's birthplace and his current home:
Freeman heard that calling in northeastern Mississippi,the birthplace of the blues, but a region that recently escaped the wrath of Hurricane Katrina."This" refers back to Mississippi, "mansion" refers back to "home," and "movie star's" refers back (replaces) Freeman, all insuring coherence:
This is where Freeman grew up for the most part and still makes his home, living near his childhood roots and miles from the nearest stoplight, albeit in a movie star’s mansion.
He and his wife Myrna share 120 acres with their horses. Down the road in Clarksdale, Mississippi, Freeman co-owns a restaurant and a blues club.
Some background of the actor's daily life, with two idiomatic phrases that the writer links by the word, "cutting." ("Cutting up"=clown; "cutting the rug"=dance.)
Between his movie shoots, he is a regular in Clarksdale, often cutting up with tourists and cutting the rug with locals in his club.
He and his business partner Bill Luckett have been bankrolling the blues club and the restaurant at a loss for almost five years now. His business interests here are labors of Freeman’s love for his native Mississippi Delta.
Note a common coherence device of antithesis: Mississippi is mentioned in the last paragraph, followed by an antithetical reference to it in the next ("But Mississippi's history"). Then the writer uses indirect discourse ("Forgive, he says, but never forget") instead of direct quotation, allowing a smoother integration (inclusion) of the words into the paragraph. Like a composer, the writer then develops the new motif of "Mississippi," including using "cause and effect" to explain Freeman's attitude towards the state:
But Mississippi’s history of racial conflict bothers him even to this day. Forgive, he says, but never forget.
For one, he thinks the Mississippi state flag, with its confederate emblem, should be changed.
“That flag has always represented, number one, treason and, number two, a separation of white people from Jews, niggers and homosexuals. And you can't change that. You can't tell me I'm never going to be able to look at that flag and think, ‘Ah, it's my heritage, my, you know . . . ’ Never,” says Freeman.
Reference to Misssissippi now allows the writer to move to higher levels of generality (politics in general), again insuring coherence:
His social and political views are at times surprising and he pulls no punches.
Note that the writer selects just one word for direct quotation in the next paragraph sentence: "ridiculous." This makes for economy in writing and it also insures the reader that the writer is selectively in control of the material and choosing only the quoted words that are necessary, either in terms of color or content. After that one-word quote, the writer quotes a lengthy "cause and effect" argument from Freeman." But still he fills out the fairly lengthy quote with an indirect quote ("noting that there are no white or Jewish history months"). Then he indirectly quotes himself too ("How can we get rid of racism?), summing up what must have been a lengthy interview question. It is this variety of style devices that adds interest to a piece:
He says he finds Black History Month “ridiculous.”
“You're going to relegate my history to a month?” asks Freeman. “I don't want a Black History Month. Black history is American history,” he says, noting that there are no white or Jewish history months.
How can we get rid of racism?
This is a very simple but effective use of "cause and effect," linked to the word "racism" in the previous paragraph. Note, too, that the writer carefully includes Morgan's clipped pronounciation of the final "g" on "saying." This of course is not to make fun of Freeman's speech, but to make him come alive in speaking. It's possible that there were more of those clipped final consonants, but that the writer didn't wish to overdue it by cluttering Morgan's speech with a lot of "sayin'" and "doin'," etc. and instead selectively used a single instance to sum up all instances, thus making his point more simply. Always the key word is "selective." The writer is always selective, with a purpose.
“Stop talking about it. I'm going to stop calling you a white man,” Freeman says to Wallace. “And I'm going to ask you to stop calling me a black man. I know you as Mike Wallace. You know me as Morgan Freeman. You wouldn't say, ‘Well, I know this white guy named Mike Wallace.’ You know what I'm sayin’?”
Again the writer uses a strong coherence device, rising to higher levels of generality, from a specific discussion of "racism" to "convictions" in general, and linking them with Freeman's wife:
Freeman’s convictions make for lively dinner conversation with his wife. Myrna and Morgan met 25 years ago when both were struggling in the world of New York theater. Today, few people know him better than she does.
Here the transition is more abrupt (there is no previous mention to the idea of Freeman's "narcissism"). Though a transition device would have been easy, this is not a fatal flaw, because the sudden introduction of Morgan's wife allows for a sudden change of topic. The reader assumes that there's a lot of conversation with the wife that the writer has omitted, because the focus is, as it should be, on Morgan Freeman, not his wife. Also, the use of indirect discourse ("asked if her husband is a naracissist") makes the sudden question seem less abrupt. Then the writer uses "definition" to further "define" Morgan's character by contrast of terms. The words are not the writer's, but Freeman's wife, but the writer selectively chose to include them at this point in his profile:
Asked if her husband is a narcissist, Myrna Freeman says he is an egoist.
“Narcissist strikes me as somebody who's in love with themselves. I don't see him as in love with himself. He's more full of himself,” she says laughing. “He’s self-absorbed.”
Note again the use of indirect discourse, of the interviewer himself:
And criticism doesn’t bother him?
The writer then develops the new motif of criticism, which is on a lower level of generality than "narcissism":
“Not that I've ever noticed,” she says.
A writer is to some degree limited by his or her material, just like a documentary movie-maker, who needs interesting "footage" to make an interesting film. But if the questions are right, so will the responses. Here the writer gets a colorful quote from Freeman. "Joking" is a lower level of generality than "laughing," insuring coherence by repetition, as does the repetition of the word "criticized" from a previous paragraph:
“I don't get criticized. I'm the greatest living American actor,” Morgan Freeman interjects, laughing. “Ask anybody.”
Note two uses of the antithetical conjunction, "but" to develop ideas: "joking" vs. "but film critics"; and "have one," vs. "but he finds," etc. The simple possessive pronoun, "one," insures coherence as does the repetition of the word "Oscar," which "one" replaces:
He is joking, of course, but film critics say his Oscar last year was long overdue. Freeman acknowledges he’s happy finally to have one, but he finds the annual Oscar race demeaning to the nominees.
The writer develops the Oscar motif by another "cause and effect" argument from Freeman: why he resents Oscar competition:
“At the end of this process four of us are going to be losers. I kind of resent it,” says Freeman. “Who likes feeling like a loser, you know? That's why, you lost that one, you lost that time. Oh, you think it's finally your time to win one. Win . . . what are you going to win? I win a doorstop, you know?”
The transition in the next sentence is a little arbitrary; but good writers know how to make the arbitrary seem natural. We are to assume that Freeman was "at ease" during most of the interview, and this allows an antithesis to being "serious." The other antithesis, between on-camera and "off-camera" pursuits, also seems a little arbitrary, since there's no necessary relationship between being "at ease" and Hollywood film production. Still, the reader respects the writer at least attempting coherence even when that coherence is not entirely obvious:
When he’s at ease, Freeman is playful, but when it comes to his off-camera pursuits, he’s serious.
Here the coherence is more obvious, since the writer has mentioned "off-camera pursuits" in the previous paragraph and then moves to a lower level of generality ("learning to fly") in the next. "Pilot himself" takes the new theme to a still lower level of generality than "flying" (one assumes the write means he flies the plane not merely himself but alone, without a more experienced co-pilot). Of course, the topic (commonplace) used is Example ("for example"):
Take his pursuit of learning to fly, for example. He always wanted to learn to fly and finally decided to do it when he turned 65. Now, he can pilot himself across the country.
"One destination" moves to yet a lower level of generality. So the writer moves, progressively, from "pursuits," to "flying," to "pilot himself," and then, "to the Virgin Islands." All this insures coherence:
One destination he sometimes flies to is The Virgin Islands, to get back to that sailboat.
The specific idea of "flying" leads back to the general idea of "pursuits," and thus back again to the specific idea at the very beginning: sailing. This is developed by antithesis between the two main themes of the profile: pleasure pursuits ("sailboat") and acting ("movie" and "that").
Asked if he would rather be working or on his sailboat, Freeman says, “All my life, all my life that I can, as far back as I can remember, I saw my first movie when I was six years old. And since then I wanted to do that. I wanted to be a part of that.”
The writer then neatly ties the two contrasts together: acting and pleasure, by the word "all," while at the same time ending on the main subject: the man himself: Morgan Freeman. This is shown by pronoun replacements (I, me, you) and a return to the highest level of generality of all: life itself, repeated in noun (life) and verb (live) forms, and once by omission ("[Life] Has been and is good"). Such a high level of generality of itself, without the previous profile to support it, would be meaningless, But a high level of generality at the conclusion is a neat way to tie all the pieces together for a smooth ending, since smooth endings are enjoyed by readers:
He is a man who makes you believe he has got it all.
“But I can say that life is good to me. [Life] Has been and is good. So I think my task is to be good to it. So how do you be good to life? You live it,” says Freeman.
EVA LONGORIA'S OTHER SIDE
By Bob TourtellotteLOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Eva Longoria is annoyed. The Latina beauty on hit television show "Desperate Housewives" is bugged by all the newspaper, magazine and Web gossip about her sex life when there are more important issues to think about.
Good opening line. The brief sentence (Eva Longoria is annoyed") is stronger than a long one would be (it's always a matter of judgment). It captures the reader's attention. Then follows a synoymic sentence that replaces "Eva Longoria" and adds information about her in an easy way ("The Latina beauty on hit television show"). I don't know what happened to the article ("the") before "hit television show," but there should be one. "Bugged" is an example of a strong (and colorful) verb: "bugged" means "annoyed." "Don't bug me!" (After all, we're annoyed by bugs!)
She is as comfortable talking about U.S. immigration policy and the plight of migrant farm workers as she is having her bikini-clad body on a mega-sized magazine cover spread out in the Nevada desert so that it can be seen from outer space.
Now the writer uses an unusually long sentence, also just right for his purpose. The long sentence seems to have comic purpose, as if the sentence contains as much as Longoria does! It uses the commonplace of contrast as well as that of example (the writer gives examples in both instances).
Longoria, 31, is a beauty, but her brain is big, too and she wants folks to know it. So when the media focuses on her sex life with boyfriend Tony Parker, as happened last month, Longoria gets irritated.
"It's annoying, absolutely," she told Reuters ahead of Friday's release of her new movie, thriller "The Sentinel," in which she portrays a rookie U.S. Secret Service agent.
Dialogue quotes are well chosen. What is missing is a selective description of the subject. (In this way, this is not a perfect model of how to write a profile.) This is apparently because readers supposedly know her and how she looks (she's a famous model); besides, there are pictures included. Still, description is not simply documentarian, as in a police report; rather description always has (or should have) a point of view, or focus: the criminal would be selectively described by his scowl, the suspicious person by his darting eyes, the studious person by her near-sighted gaze, the vain person by how he feels the pimple on his face, etc. The point is to make the person come alive.
"I respect good journalism. I respect certain newspapers and certain publications, and they are just watered down by the bounty for gossip and pictures and information that is irrelevant and uninteresting," she said.
Of course, a lot of that attention comes from the image she has built as a sexpot. She was among People magazine's "50 Most Beautiful People" and was No. 1 on Maxim magazine's "Hot 100" list of sexy women. She called the publicity "flattering," but added it is Hollywood's starmaking machine talking, not her.
Note the selective use of a single-word quote here ("flattering"), showing that the writer is in control and is not simply passively quoting large chunks of quotes without purpose or focus. Note also the use of indirect discourse ("She called the publicity 'flattering'").
Longoria skyrocketed to stardom in 2004 on "Desperate Housewives" as the sexy Gabrielle Soliz whose skin-tight jeans and skimpy dresses often raise the eyebrows -- not to mention the ire -- of the other neighborhood wives.
Here we get some background information on the subject. Note that the order (the timeline) is not in a straight line, nor need it be. Present is followed by past, back to present, then future.
The show premiered on U.S. TV and became an instant hit. It averages more than 20 million U.S. viewers weekly and is now a global phenomenon seen in 200 countries.
But beyond the Hollywood glitz, Longoria holds a degree in kinesiology from Texas A&M University - Kingsville. She is a spokeswoman for Padres Contra el Cancer, which is dedicated to helping Latino kids with the disease, and works with the United Farm Workers labor union.
The writer here gives examples of a life beyond Hollywood.
She said it was "unfortunate" that in the United States -- a nation of immigrants -- some lawmakers want to deport illegal aliens and fence off the Mexico/U.S. border.
"Mexicans contribute an enormous amount to our society, economically and socially," she said. "I don't think this administration can afford to have things end badly."
The writer gives a relevant quote concerning Longoria's social activism. Note, like I said, that in magazines movie titles are placed in quotes, but in books and scholarship they should be in italics, like this type looks.
Longoria has politics on her mind a lot these days, in real life and in the movies.
In "The Sentinel," she co-stars with Michael Douglas and Kiefer Sutherland. They play Secret Service agents who clash when the president's life is threatened by assassins. Longoria is a sharp rookie who is teamed with Sutherland in what is her first role in a major Hollywood movie.
Note how the writers insures coherence by adding the comment that Longoria's role is not the lead, leading easily into the next part of the profile and the next quotation ("But Longoria said she was not looking to top movie marquees," etc.).
She is not the headlining actress; her part supports the male leads. But Longoria said she was not looking to top movie marquees yet, and did not need the added pressure of being the sole star responsible for the film's box office.
A good writer blends indirect and direct discourse for variety. Just above is an example of indirect discourse, followed by direct discourse (quoted text):
"I wanted to be in a good, ensemble cast," she said. "It was an amazing opportunity to work with great actors in a less stressful environment."
Unlike many actors and actresses who proclaim that they do not plan careers and that roles just seem to come along, Longoria says she strategizes about her choices.
Note how the writer develops another theme: personal strategy, introduced in the above paragraph and developed below:
She graduated from college with plans to work in sports medicine and become a trainer for a professional sports team. Parker is a star player for basketball's San Antonio Spurs.
After bringing the subject's life to the present, the writer goes back to the past again:
Longoria never dreamed of movie stardom back on her family's ranch near the south Texas town of Corpus Christi.
"We couldn't afford to go to movies," she said.
Her fantasy was to be on TV. She won a modeling contest that sent her to Hollywood where she began building a resume. She did extra work, then bit parts on "Beverly Hills 90210" and small roles on soap operas like "The Bold and The Beautiful."
"I planned. It was definitely intentional," she said.
Note how the writer takes his subject to lower levels of generality: from general strategy, to movies, to a particular movie:
But movies -- not TV -- are the top rung on the career ladder for actors in Hollywood, so after only one season on "Desperate Housewives," she shot "The Sentinel" -- during her summer vacation.
Later this year, fans will see Longoria in a low-budget film "Harsh Times" that she shot over the Christmas holiday. She portrays a lawyer who grew up poor but became successful.
"It's a dark, dark drama. Very indie," she said. "Anytime you do a good independent film ... you're respected in a circle of critics and a circle in the industry. That was definitely a choice." "Harsh Times" is expected to be released this fall, just in time for Hollywood's Oscar season.
(NOTE: "Indie" is slang for "independent" [movie], not funded by a big movie company so often with unusual subject matter.) Note the weak ending, which would not be good in a regular profile. This is not an ideal profile, since it doesn't meet all the standards. For example, it's part publicity as well as profile. But what would be a weak ending in a profile works well here since the goal really is to advertise the subject's next film (that's why stars give interviews); and what occurs at the end has most emphasis. Also, the subject was probably interviewed by phone, so setting is non-existent. You must spend a fair amount on describing the setting of the person you interview: the office, home, restaurant, etc. Finally, as already mentioned, the writer omits any physical description (this includes not only physical traits, but physical actions, like rubbing the nose, squinting, chain smoking, etc. all of which reveal character, whether in movies or in prose).
But clearly the writer lived up to the title, showing Longoria's "other side," giving examples, quoting speech, and adding background details to fill out his subject.
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