Words - their inherent charm
Aug. 28th, 2010 09:31 amI had a long conversation with an old friend last night, and we spent most of it talking about... words. Which ones were our favorites, which ones didn't get used often enough.
Apparently the fact that I would blithely use the word "bifurcate" is indicative of something.
We disagreed happily enough on many authors who use big words, and agreed on others. As a reader, I don't tend to like exquisite prose for the sake of exquisite prose - I enjoy it only when I'm convinced that the author needed that level of precision to make their point. If it didn't really matter that the dress was, I don't know, crimson vs. poppy, then by all means just call it red. (In the case of red dye, it could of course matter a great deal what the precise red shade was, in either a historical or well built 2ndary world fantasy, as a way of indicating class/money issues and their transgression.)
Similarly, if you could just say that the woman was sad, and tired, then please don't burden me with her inexpressible and poignant sorrow, or her world-weariness. If you're going to tell me her sorrow was inexpressible and poignant, there better be a reason.
Which, of course, is a digression from the main point about random long words and our love for them. I can't, for instance, think of any instance in writing of any kind when it will ever be most appropriate for me to use the word "osculation" rather than "kissing," but that doesn't stop me from loving it anyway. My friend and I liked different long words, which is only appropriate (taste in those is as individual as taste in clothing, really). My favorites include: incarnadine, bifurcate, osculation, ostentatious, iniquitous. His favorite word for the day was sesquipedalian, but that was too self-referential for me. We had a good time with it anyway.
I do think that, generally short direct words are more useful than long ones, no matter how fun the long ones. Since I try to limit my usage and intake of long words (as if they were salty, sugary snacks!) it was a pleasure to just get silly and let the long words roll.
Apparently the fact that I would blithely use the word "bifurcate" is indicative of something.
We disagreed happily enough on many authors who use big words, and agreed on others. As a reader, I don't tend to like exquisite prose for the sake of exquisite prose - I enjoy it only when I'm convinced that the author needed that level of precision to make their point. If it didn't really matter that the dress was, I don't know, crimson vs. poppy, then by all means just call it red. (In the case of red dye, it could of course matter a great deal what the precise red shade was, in either a historical or well built 2ndary world fantasy, as a way of indicating class/money issues and their transgression.)
Similarly, if you could just say that the woman was sad, and tired, then please don't burden me with her inexpressible and poignant sorrow, or her world-weariness. If you're going to tell me her sorrow was inexpressible and poignant, there better be a reason.
Which, of course, is a digression from the main point about random long words and our love for them. I can't, for instance, think of any instance in writing of any kind when it will ever be most appropriate for me to use the word "osculation" rather than "kissing," but that doesn't stop me from loving it anyway. My friend and I liked different long words, which is only appropriate (taste in those is as individual as taste in clothing, really). My favorites include: incarnadine, bifurcate, osculation, ostentatious, iniquitous. His favorite word for the day was sesquipedalian, but that was too self-referential for me. We had a good time with it anyway.
I do think that, generally short direct words are more useful than long ones, no matter how fun the long ones. Since I try to limit my usage and intake of long words (as if they were salty, sugary snacks!) it was a pleasure to just get silly and let the long words roll.