Speaking of Which
How the Queen’s English Has Evolved over 200 Years
This month, two lucky visitors to Austen Authors will each win a copy of Pulse and Prejudice; and although these prizes do not have much monetary value, a price cannot be placed on the heartfelt devotion expended on this project of some twenty-four months. Not that I would ever refuse an excuse to go to Britain! Indeed, I even elected to travel to The Netherlands and Belgium to write the second draft with the idea that I would incorporate the Battle of Waterloo and the Treaty of Ghent in the sequel. (Alas, the site of Waterloo is a nondescript field – reminiscent of my visit to Valley Forge, which resulted in dozens of photographs of grass with the occasional cannon thrown in for good measure.)
I could expend an entire blogpost on the research I undertook on the Regency era, using primary sources – from periodicals to weather reports – and secondary sources, as well as vampire lore and literature, to ensure historical accuracy (I discuss much of this in a recent Authors After Dark Spotlight Interview), and how I came to possess a 200 year-old edition of Southey's The Life of Nelson just because I thought it might be a book Mr. Darcy would read (OK, yes, I can be a bit obsessive). Today, however, I address the changes in literary conventions since the publication of Pride and Prejudice.
In approaching Pulse and Prejudice as an authentic (albeit paranormal) adaptation of Jane Austen’s classic rather than a variation or modernization, I committed myself to remaining true to her language and writing style. Cognizant of the changes in language and literary conventions over the last two centuries, and diligent in my efforts to avoid any historical or linguistic anachronisms, I did not use a single word in Pulse and Prejudice that was not in use in 1813, which meant the loss of many good words! I had used the word “befuddled” Pulse and Prejudice until I found out it wasn’t in use until the 1830s. (I suppose no one was confused before then.) And don’t get me started on “credenza”! Fortunately, one of the editors assigned to the project, Julie Reilly, is not only a fellow Austenite but also British. She understood my commitment to Regency language and double-checked not only for anachronisms but also Americanisms. For example, what we call “French doors” are called “French windows” in England even today; and across the pond, they use “draught” for “draft,” and not just at the pub.
Unlike today’s authors, Miss Austen did not have Strunk and White or The Chicago Manual of Style on hand and instead maintained the punctuation usage of the 18th and early 19th centuries. This would account for the 1500+ semicolons found in Pride and Prejudice, most typically in lieu of periods, as well as her liberal use of commas. Even that famous first line – It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. – would not have any commas if written today. When first submitting my own manuscript to the publisher, I had to present my argument for keeping as many semicolons as possible (a misunderstood and under-used punctuation mark, in my opinion).
Modified rules of punctuation only scratch the surface of changes in writing standards in the last two hundred years. As any aspiring author knows, today a writer must “show” rather than “tell,” meaning that full descriptions must be used in place of adverbs and adjectives. Stephen King sums up the current attitude: “The road to hell is paved with adverbs.” Yet Miss Austen utilizes adverbs “liberally.” In his book On Writing, King modifies his position somewhat:
This is in direct opposition to Miss Austen’s dialogue attributions: “cried his wife impatiently,” “replied Kitty fretfully,” “said Lydia stoutly.” I have studied Pride and Prejudice for over twenty years, and I still have no idea how one would speak “stoutly.”
Neither did Miss Austen “show” her readers a detailed picture of the settings or characters, as would be expected in contemporary literature. When she writes of the detail with which Mr. Collins describes the beauty of Rosings Park, she means to make him ridiculous. As stated in my post "Devil in the Details," in which I describe the ease with which I adhered to her restrictions in this area, she used terms such as beautiful, good-looking, tall and handsome, plain, stout, elegant, heavy-looking, pale and sickly. (Mark Twain said, “When you catch an adjective, kill it.” Of course, never a fan of Miss Austen, he also wrote, “Every time I read Pride and Prejudice, I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone.”)
Another narrative technique found in Pride and Prejudice, although infrequently, which would have an editor’s red pen out today is “head-hopping,” jumping from one character’s point of view to another without a scene break. Although primarily told from Elizabeth Bennet’s often unreliable point of view, Miss Austen will on occasion provide the reader a glimpse into the thoughts of the other characters, including Mr. Darcy, Caroline Bingley, Charlotte, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. This “rule” has only been in vogue a relatively short time, as omniscient narrators hopped from head to head in the works of literary greats such as Hemingway and Faulkner.
I must admit, though, that as much as I loved reading Gone with the Wind in my youth, today I find it intolerable – not just because of the constant head-hopping but also because of the detailed descriptions. I have been spoiled by Miss Austen’s clean narrative, which relies on dialog and free indirect speech (a form of deep point of view just shy of being first person). The reader will find this form of writing emulated throughout Pulse and Prejudice, and, as in the original, I do allow a few minor breaks in point of view in deference to Miss Austen. Primarily, though, the first half of my adaptation tells the story through the perspective of the vampire Darcy, seeing the events in Hertfordshire through his eyes and following his parallel plot-line in London; but the second half of the novel alternates between his point of view and that of Elizabeth Bennet in original scenes once she is confronted with the truth of his dark nature.
Finally, age has modified the meaning of words themselves. Each time Miss Austen speaks of someone having “intelligence,” she means they have some new information – not that they are smart or clever. On the other hand, when Mr. Bingley says Mr. Darcy’s manner is “stupid,” he means tiresome. And when they refer to someone’s “accent,” they do not refer to my Southern drawl but instead to the tone of voice. In fact, the meanings and nuances of so many words found in Pride and Prejudice have changed so much over the last two hundred years, whenever asked I always recommend reading an annotated edition in order to have accurate definitions on hand. Even “morning” is not the same now as it was then, when it lasted until late afternoon or when they would excuse themselves to dress for dinner.
I did have some fun with the slang in use during the Regency. Colonel Fitzwilliam has a much larger role in Pulse and Prejudice than in Miss Austen’s classic, and acts as Darcy’s confidant whilst in London. Although the second son of an Earl, Fitzwilliam has been off fighting Napoleon; so when he is first introduced, he uses a lot of slang (in use in 1813) that he picked up from the troops; but the longer he is with his aristocratic friends and family, the more refined his speech becomes.
Then there’s the matter of the dwarf in Pulse and Prejudice…but I have more fun with his language in the sequel…
If you want to hear how authentically Austenesque Pulse and Prejudice actually sounds, I have good news for you: The audiobook is currently in production and will be released in just a few weeks – complete, unabridged, and thoroughly British!
Pulse and Prejudice
Pride and Prejudice
This month, two lucky visitors to Austen Authors will each win a copy of Pulse and Prejudice; and although these prizes do not have much monetary value, a price cannot be placed on the heartfelt devotion expended on this project of some twenty-four months. Not that I would ever refuse an excuse to go to Britain! Indeed, I even elected to travel to The Netherlands and Belgium to write the second draft with the idea that I would incorporate the Battle of Waterloo and the Treaty of Ghent in the sequel. (Alas, the site of Waterloo is a nondescript field – reminiscent of my visit to Valley Forge, which resulted in dozens of photographs of grass with the occasional cannon thrown in for good measure.)
I could expend an entire blogpost on the research I undertook on the Regency era, using primary sources – from periodicals to weather reports – and secondary sources, as well as vampire lore and literature, to ensure historical accuracy (I discuss much of this in a recent Authors After Dark Spotlight Interview), and how I came to possess a 200 year-old edition of Southey's The Life of Nelson just because I thought it might be a book Mr. Darcy would read (OK, yes, I can be a bit obsessive). Today, however, I address the changes in literary conventions since the publication of Pride and Prejudice.
In approaching Pulse and Prejudice as an authentic (albeit paranormal) adaptation of Jane Austen’s classic rather than a variation or modernization, I committed myself to remaining true to her language and writing style. Cognizant of the changes in language and literary conventions over the last two centuries, and diligent in my efforts to avoid any historical or linguistic anachronisms, I did not use a single word in Pulse and Prejudice that was not in use in 1813, which meant the loss of many good words! I had used the word “befuddled” Pulse and Prejudice until I found out it wasn’t in use until the 1830s. (I suppose no one was confused before then.) And don’t get me started on “credenza”! Fortunately, one of the editors assigned to the project, Julie Reilly, is not only a fellow Austenite but also British. She understood my commitment to Regency language and double-checked not only for anachronisms but also Americanisms. For example, what we call “French doors” are called “French windows” in England even today; and across the pond, they use “draught” for “draft,” and not just at the pub.
Unlike today’s authors, Miss Austen did not have Strunk and White or The Chicago Manual of Style on hand and instead maintained the punctuation usage of the 18th and early 19th centuries. This would account for the 1500+ semicolons found in Pride and Prejudice, most typically in lieu of periods, as well as her liberal use of commas. Even that famous first line – It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. – would not have any commas if written today. When first submitting my own manuscript to the publisher, I had to present my argument for keeping as many semicolons as possible (a misunderstood and under-used punctuation mark, in my opinion).
Modified rules of punctuation only scratch the surface of changes in writing standards in the last two hundred years. As any aspiring author knows, today a writer must “show” rather than “tell,” meaning that full descriptions must be used in place of adverbs and adjectives. Stephen King sums up the current attitude: “The road to hell is paved with adverbs.” Yet Miss Austen utilizes adverbs “liberally.” In his book On Writing, King modifies his position somewhat:
I can be a good sport about adverbs, though. Yes I can. With one exception: dialogue attribution. I insist that you use the adverb in dialogue attribution only in the rarest and most special of occasions . . . and not even then, if you can avoid it. Just to make sure we all know what we’re talking about, examine these three sentences:
“Put it down!” she shouted.
“Give it back,” he pleaded, “it’s mine.”
“Don’t be such a fool, Jekyll,” Utterson said.
In these sentences, shouted, pleaded, and said are verbs of dialogue attribution. Now look at these dubious revisions:
“Put it down!” she shouted menacingly.
“Give it back,” he pleaded abjectly, “it’s mine.”
“Don’t be such a fool, Jekyll,” Utterson said contemptuously.
The three latter sentences are all weaker than the three former ones, and most readers will see why immediately.
This is in direct opposition to Miss Austen’s dialogue attributions: “cried his wife impatiently,” “replied Kitty fretfully,” “said Lydia stoutly.” I have studied Pride and Prejudice for over twenty years, and I still have no idea how one would speak “stoutly.”
Neither did Miss Austen “show” her readers a detailed picture of the settings or characters, as would be expected in contemporary literature. When she writes of the detail with which Mr. Collins describes the beauty of Rosings Park, she means to make him ridiculous. As stated in my post "Devil in the Details," in which I describe the ease with which I adhered to her restrictions in this area, she used terms such as beautiful, good-looking, tall and handsome, plain, stout, elegant, heavy-looking, pale and sickly. (Mark Twain said, “When you catch an adjective, kill it.” Of course, never a fan of Miss Austen, he also wrote, “Every time I read Pride and Prejudice, I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone.”)
Another narrative technique found in Pride and Prejudice, although infrequently, which would have an editor’s red pen out today is “head-hopping,” jumping from one character’s point of view to another without a scene break. Although primarily told from Elizabeth Bennet’s often unreliable point of view, Miss Austen will on occasion provide the reader a glimpse into the thoughts of the other characters, including Mr. Darcy, Caroline Bingley, Charlotte, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. This “rule” has only been in vogue a relatively short time, as omniscient narrators hopped from head to head in the works of literary greats such as Hemingway and Faulkner.
I must admit, though, that as much as I loved reading Gone with the Wind in my youth, today I find it intolerable – not just because of the constant head-hopping but also because of the detailed descriptions. I have been spoiled by Miss Austen’s clean narrative, which relies on dialog and free indirect speech (a form of deep point of view just shy of being first person). The reader will find this form of writing emulated throughout Pulse and Prejudice, and, as in the original, I do allow a few minor breaks in point of view in deference to Miss Austen. Primarily, though, the first half of my adaptation tells the story through the perspective of the vampire Darcy, seeing the events in Hertfordshire through his eyes and following his parallel plot-line in London; but the second half of the novel alternates between his point of view and that of Elizabeth Bennet in original scenes once she is confronted with the truth of his dark nature.
Finally, age has modified the meaning of words themselves. Each time Miss Austen speaks of someone having “intelligence,” she means they have some new information – not that they are smart or clever. On the other hand, when Mr. Bingley says Mr. Darcy’s manner is “stupid,” he means tiresome. And when they refer to someone’s “accent,” they do not refer to my Southern drawl but instead to the tone of voice. In fact, the meanings and nuances of so many words found in Pride and Prejudice have changed so much over the last two hundred years, whenever asked I always recommend reading an annotated edition in order to have accurate definitions on hand. Even “morning” is not the same now as it was then, when it lasted until late afternoon or when they would excuse themselves to dress for dinner.
I did have some fun with the slang in use during the Regency. Colonel Fitzwilliam has a much larger role in Pulse and Prejudice than in Miss Austen’s classic, and acts as Darcy’s confidant whilst in London. Although the second son of an Earl, Fitzwilliam has been off fighting Napoleon; so when he is first introduced, he uses a lot of slang (in use in 1813) that he picked up from the troops; but the longer he is with his aristocratic friends and family, the more refined his speech becomes.
Then there’s the matter of the dwarf in Pulse and Prejudice…but I have more fun with his language in the sequel…
If you want to hear how authentically Austenesque Pulse and Prejudice actually sounds, I have good news for you: The audiobook is currently in production and will be released in just a few weeks – complete, unabridged, and thoroughly British!
Pulse and Prejudice
Pride and Prejudice
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