"A change in style in philosophy is a profound change, and itself a subject of philosophical investigation." -- Stanley Cavell
My plans for the summer aren't something another person would find interesting: I'll spend most of it studying physics intensely, both for general exams and to fill in perceived lacks in my knowledge before graduate school. On the other hand, I also intend to resume writing here, if only on a narrow set of topics.
One of these topics is, for lack of a less ambitious word, style. I want to be a good writer. However, I'm largely unable to learn about this from contemporary sources, because I don't want to write fiction, and questions of style arise rarely with regard to nonfiction; when they do, the discussions are not often to my liking. One thing that's particularly dismaying is the goal of universal style, the desire to set out guidelines which are to apply to all (nonfiction) writing, or even just a specific example of it, like scientific reports or academic essays. So-called general style is just grammar, where it carries any weight at all.
So instead of following handbooks of general style, I'm going to build a sort of handbook of personal style. The entries in it are going to fall in three rough categories. First, there'll be short descriptions of very specific stylistic matters, giving my reactions to and understanding of them, possibly along with a judgment of their merits; these entries probably won't be of much interest to anyone beside myself. Second, there'll be comments on more general matters, like overall structure, or what one comes away with as an impression of another's style. These'll still be built for my own needs, but I'll try to make them worthwhile to anyone else reading. Third, there'll be mixtures of philosophy and self-analysis, in which I bring up and address the questions that brought me to this project in the first place, such as why I feel style to be important, what relationship I should stand in with the reader, and why I feel contemporary forms of writing to be inadequate for me. These last, hopefully, will be worth reading on their own.
At one point in my life I did manage to develop a distinct, complete style of writing, which I called the "ramble". The way I would write these was so consistent, it almost became dependable: I would wait until some night when I felt restless, then get on my bicycle and ride someplace at random, in the dark. Eventually a place or situation would hit me with a particular emotion, with ideas and theories following in its path, and I would go straight home to put it all into words. The style of the "ramble" was very spontaneous; it was never written with a structure in mind, and yet would always develop a certain internal coherence, a natural progression of ideas and techniques. The biggest virtue of this form of writing was that it suited those ephemeral, nighttime emotions and ideas. The biggest shortcoming was that it was incapable of producing a point-driven work.
I discovered this in a disastrous way when I tried to adapt this style to academic philosophy. The last four rambles I ever wrote, I also showed to professors, in each one attempting more difficult, more comprehensive arguments. The comments I received, while worthwhile, often concerned how difficult it was to discern their structures. This was my first introduction to the demands of an (in this case, academic) audience; it didn't help that the rambles were such personal exercises that I ended up shaking in anxiety when it came time to talk about them. In the end, the near inability to get any ideas across broke something inside me. I would still feel those strange ideas and emotions, but no longer be able to write them, or produce any more rambles.
This might actually have been for the better. There's a certain self-indulgence in writing which is so common in philosophy that many people have taken it to be characteristic of philosophy. I think that if I had continued to adapt the ramble to academia, I would have ended up with such a style. I was inept at the immediate alternative, mind you -- for a few years I wrote essays of greater or lesser mediocrity. But I do think I'm a better writer now than I was then. Nowadays I can use metaphor effectively, I can understand and plan structures, and I can make a point while having people know what that point is. Nevertheless, it's not by choice that I no longer write rambles; it's because I can't. And that fact, as well as the merits of that form of writing, abilities which I haven't reclaimed in full, gives me a drive to understand it better. From this understanding, I hope to develop a new style, which can have such a place in my life as the old one did.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-05 08:06 pm (UTC)My summer is going to be working, and cross stitching.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-10 03:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-06 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 12:34 pm (UTC)But there are other styles of non-fictional writing which you can adapt your rambles for, if you want to. Biography, for instance, or popular philosophy.
Also, aside from the standard essay of argumentation, there are other styles of essay which have, in the past, been considered equally worthy of public attention and comment.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 05:39 pm (UTC)I've thought about several ways of replying, but I think the best thing to say is that I'd respond better to that comment if it were less academic.
I'm willing to discuss the matter, but I'd need an explanation first.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-19 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 05:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 05:40 am (UTC)I have no idea where you got the idea that I was insulting anything. All I said was that your rambles may have failed to engage academic philosophy because academic disciplines in general treat written material in a certain way, and academics are trained to read things in particular ways, with the implication that your rambles don't suit those expectations.
I have a hard time believing that you've been studying academic disciplines without coming across concepts like the gaze and hegemony, but I'll explain anyway:
Gazing is a way of asserting power over something whereby the gazer gets to determine the meaning of the object of their gaze.
Hegemony, in this instance, is the ability of academia in general to develop an organised and widespread way of interpreting and constructing texts, and for that way to be considered the most useful and legitimate way of writing.
All I was saying was that there are established ways of writing academic material, and even though your rambles might not fit the standard, they're not alone in falling outside that mould, or even in being worthwhile non-academic non-fiction. I have no idea where you got the idea I was trying to "insult something that you love" out of that.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 08:44 pm (UTC)I misunderstood the antecedent of a pronoun, so I read what you wrote as "They (academics) have failed at academic philosophy..." As for the concepts of gaze and hegemony, I've come across them before, but only in a polemic context. I've never had them explained to me. Hopefully that will explain why I took what you said amiss.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-25 01:20 am (UTC)