When purple prose works?

I don't think pretty, fluffy prose = purple prose. I think most writers (even Chabon) have done pretty, fluffy, useless prose. Sometimes we think it somehow elevates us to "literary greatness."

I am looking forward to the responses in this thread because this is an area I am weak in- I don't write the fluffy stuff easily!
Right now I am getting my story down by way of well, just telling it (saying what's happening) and through dialogue. I'm better at writing that pretty stuff in poetry but I do plan to add to my story "The solitary crimson leaf fluttered to the ground as Autum kissed the air goodbye" and such later...when it seems natural/appropriate that is.

goatpiper said:

I agree - Chabon can go overboard, but he often does a great job of weaving great pose with a driving story. I think it can be done, but it doesn't seem to work out with most writers.

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That separates the great writers from the merely competent ones.

I think prose can be near purple and still great if it is either ironic, or sincere and somewhat orignal (not the same old metaphors).

I don't think Chabon tries to write that way. That's his style and he does it quite naturally in all that he does. Trying to graft more involved prose over top of your own will turn out to be awkward.

Get comfortable with your style. Improve it over time. But I wouldn't suggest trying to make it in to something else, it might be a recipe for disaster.

Purple

I dont think purple prose is ever justified, unless it's in making fun of something. What Chabon does usually isn't purple prose, it's just good use of language. Sometimes it fails, but it isn't purple. Same with some of Ray Bradbury's writing.

The problem, I think, is that many writers are so afraid of purple prose that everything they write is in black and white.

To me, the phrase 'purple prose' means that the writing is overwrought to the point of being its own end, specifically not serving the story.

I recently read "White Oleander." Its language is at times lush and rich, a single phrase or line rolling in the mind like wine in the mouth, but it always serves the story.

Maryn, who has just made herself want a glass of wine (anyone care to join me?)

goatpiper said:

I saw Chabon do a prepared talk at Denver University earlier this year, and I asked him about the lush writing/great storytelling balance during the Q&A. As you say, he doesn't try to write that way. He just writes what he writes and hopes it all works, though he did say he had tried too hard with 'The Mysteries of Pittsburgh' (as I said earlier). So yeah, it is his style, and WOW - he is a superior wordsmith. 'Kavalier and Clay' just left my jaw on the floor again and again. Great book.

I don't try to graft more involved prose over my own - I do return to read what I've written, and have noticed I have little intermittent moments of well-crafted, beautiful prose, but those moments are few and far between. I just slog on, trying not to over-manipulate things, and hope that those moments will recur more often.

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Don't forget The Mysteries of Pittsburgh was his first novel, and he was very young. So he had much to learn back then but you could already see his potential. I think every new author tries too hard. I certain did. I think my first book's very good, but I do think I try too hard at places. I am NOT going to change anything now (too late anyway...)

As for Kavaller and Clay... he has great editors as well. I remember him telling the story (after he won the Pulitzer) how bloody it go during the editing/rewrite phase. It wasn't like he just sat there and beautiful words and sentences just flowed out... he had to rewrite and rewrite and rewrite and kill and slash and murder... to get to the final draft. And after having gone through that process, I certainly get it.

Purple like Barney

This issue is at the heart of the strange misunderstandings (and sometimes inappropriate heat) elicited by recurrent threads on AW (and elsewhere) that contain the word 'literary'.

I think it's something to do with the multiple balls in the air that writers constantly have to juggle. To write a good, entertaining, satisfying and saleable novel we need to blend a whole bunch of elements: story, plot, character, setting, language, evocativeness, pace, expository prose, drama, ideas, dialogue, symbols, theme, hooks, uniqueness, grammar, colour, genre requirements etc. When all of those are present and of good quality, and crafted so seamlessly together that you can hardly see the joins, we call it brilliance. When such a work is about people and the real world it's entitled to be called 'literary', because of its unmistakeable quality. Any sign of a goblin or an intergalactic craft and it's filed in a different category, making it unlikely to be studied in a secondary or tertiary teaching institution, although the writer may well be recognised (and better paid through popular success) for his/her skill and art.

Those of us who aspire to be competent writers progressively learn of those multiple balls in the air and how to juggle them, through reading, writing, training etc, and try to find a way to include all the ones we need in a given piece. It's widely perceived that to be accepted into the ranks of 'literary' writers one of the necessary layers is 'fluffy stuff'. I don't think that's the case at all (neither did Hemingway), but too many contemporary fiction writers seem to believe it is, and that's the reason why so much of their work is ignored by the buying public. It's peacock work - all feathers, no meat.

I also think it's a common belief among writers that 'fluffy stuff' can be imposed as a layer, almost as an afterthought (especially, for some reason, in an overwrought, overwritten first page). I'm sure that it can't, not successfully. No, the good stuff, what we admire about the best writers in all genres, is the simple poetry of efficient, everyday words assembled in combinations packed with meaning and ideas, embedded throughout. That's their 'voice', which we can hear in most sentences. Including anything that's out of step with the tone of a piece, no matter how dreamily poetic, is like icing a turd.

Purple

Good writing can be plain, as in Hemingway, or fancy, as in Chabon. The point is thet everything has to match, everything has to come across as real and natural. There must be story beneath whatever style and voice is used.

Hemingway wasn't good because he wrote simply, he was good because simple matched the stories he wanted to tell, and the natural voice that was all his own. Chabon isn't good because he writes in a much richer style than Hemingway, he's good because this style matches the stories he has to tell, and the natural voice that is all his own.

But in order to avoid purple prose, far too many writers resort to bland, and bland is never good.

Good writing is, I think, invisible to the eye, but sings to the ear.

Jamesaritchie said:

Hemingway wasn't good because he wrote simply, he was good because simple matched the stories he wanted to tell, and the natural voice that was all his own. Chabon isn't good because he writes in a much richer style than Hemingway, he's good because this style matches the stories he has to tell, and the natural voice that is all his own.

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I would even go further to say that Hemingway was so good because his simple was actually very complex. His word choices were so plain yet rich because he chose exactly the right word, the right order, the right configuration. What the man could say with 10 words, many writers have to use 20, 30...

And Chabon is also a great wordsmith, but in a different way. His writing reads richer and more lyrical. Different style. But he, too, know how to pick the right words for the right purpose to tell the right tale. That's partially a well-honed skill, but also a gift. Some writers truly have that gift.

maestrowork said:

I would even go further to say that Hemingway was so good because his simple was actually very complex. His word choices were so plain yet rich because he choice exactly the right word, the right order, the right configuration. What the man could say with 10 words, many writers have to use 20, 30...

.

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Yes, and it also amazes me how some of Hemingway's simplest phrases can have so many layers. He could work the obvious, the subtle, and the complex into one, short, simple sentence. Hemingway is definitely not a surface writer, despite the simplicity of his prose.

Jamesaritchie said:

Yes, and it also amazes me how some of Hemingway's simplest phrases can have so many layers. He could work the obvious, the subtle, and the complex into one, short, simple sentence. Hemingway is definitely not a surface writer, despite the simplicity of his prose.

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That's something I aspire to...

pianoman5 said:

Any sign of a goblin or an intergalactic craft and it's filed in a different category, making it unlikely to be studied in a secondary or tertiary teaching institution, although the writer may well be recognised (and better paid through popular success) for his/her skill and art.

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Not necessarily true. I can think of a lot of examples of classic authors using characters or settings not of the real world and still being studied in secondary schools and colleges. A few examples:

Beowolf--Anonymous
The Faerie Queen--Edmund Spenser
Goblin Market (poem)--Christina Rossetti
Animal Farm--George Orwell
Sir Gawain and The Green Knight--Anonymous
Turn of the Screw--Henry James
Macbeth--William Shakespeare
Gulliver's Travels--Johnathon Swift
A Midsummer Nights Dream--William Shakespeare
All Summer in a Day--Ray Bradbury
Paradise Lost--John Milton


I was assigned all of these works either in high school or while majoring in English at community college. Sorry for getting off topic. As to the purple prose issue, I think that different authors have different styles but that there's a difference between having a poetic style of writing and writing purple prose. To me purple prose is forced or is there simply to be there, maybe because the author just thought it sounded too good to get rid of but it does nothing in the story. Otherwise, if it's natural and it is part of the story, then it's not purple prose. It's just part of that particular writers style.

pianoman5 said:

When such a work is about people and the real world it's entitled to be called 'literary', because of its unmistakeable quality. Any sign of a goblin or an intergalactic craft and it's filed in a different category, making it unlikely to be studied in a secondary or tertiary teaching institution, although the writer may well be recognised (and better paid through popular success) for his/her skill and art.


.

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Depends on the college, I guess. We studied a good deal of science fiction in college literary courses. Heinlein, Bradbury, Clarke, Asimov, Vern, Wells, and Shelley all had their turn. Bram Stoker also had his moment in the sun. Of these, Stoker, Bradbury, and Shelley were definitely considered literary quality. Asimov wasn't. The others seemed to have a "probably not, but we'll wait and see" label attached.

And as virtue_summer points out, there's a good deal of classic literature that has out of this world elements, though it does seem fantasy and horror stands a better chance of being called "literary" than does science fiction, though this may be because SF is a much more recent development.

The language of a story is very, very important...but it's not all-encompassing, really. I mean, Hemmingway wrote those stellar sentences like, "He went to the river. The river was there." and he did very well with them.

But on the other end of the spectrum, there's H.P. Lovecraft who had paragraph long sentences full of words like "eldritch" and "batrachian," with some of the worst dialogue and descriptions ever. And he did pretty well too.

It all comes down to story...but we already knew that.

PeeDee said:

The language of a story is very, very important...but it's not all-encompassing, really. I mean, Hemmingway wrote those stellar sentences like, "He went to the river. The river was there." and he did very well with them.

But on the other end of the spectrum, there's H.P. Lovecraft who had paragraph long sentences full of words like "eldritch" and "batrachian," with some of the worst dialogue and descriptions ever. And he did pretty well too.

It all comes down to story...but we already knew that.

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Funny you should pick that particular sentence. "The river was there" is considered by some to be the best sentence ever written. I wouldn't go nearly that far, but it is, without doubt, a wonderful sentence. It's a perfect example of a sentence that's simply written, yet contains more than one layer of meaning, and some deep complexity.

And you have to read the sentence in context. I don't think Hemingway ever wrote "He went to the river. The river was there. Or "He came to the river. The river was there." I've heard it both ways, but I've never found either in his stories. I may have missed it completely in my reading, which is possible. Something so short could be overlooked, or not remembered.

But the line "The river was there" comes from "Big Two-Hearted River," certainly Hemingway's best short story, and one of the best ever, from anyone, in my opinion. It's a story I have pretty much memorized.

What Hemingway writes therein is:

"Nick looked at the burned-over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there. It swirled against the log spiles of the bridge. Nick looked down into the clear, brown water, colored from the pebbly bottom, and watched the trout keeping themselves steady in the current with wavering fins."

Now, that is stellar writing. Not anywhere near purple, but far from plain and simple. And that one sentence, "The river was there" ties it all together, and speaks volumes about the temporary (The town that is no longer there, and the death he's seen.) versus the permanence of the river that was there, is there, will always be there.

It isn't only about the story. It's also about the writing. How the story is written can mean as much as what the story has to say. Change the writing, and you change the story. And when Hemingway wrote like this, no one could beat him.