Empson elegantly demonstrates the weight of allusion and implication borne by even the simplest works of our Man, honest, quite, dog. He explores the complex play of such words in social situations and in literature, producing in the process brilliant critical essays.
Sir William Empson was an English literary critic and poet.
He was widely influential for his practice of closely reading literary works, fundamental to the New Critics. Jonathan Bate has said that the three greatest English Literary critics of the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries are Johnson, Hazlitt and Empson, "not least because they are the funniest".
Empson has been styled a "critic of genius" by Sir Frank Kermode, who qualified his praise by identifying willfully perverse readings of certain authors; and Harold Bloom has stated that Empson is among a handful of critics who matter most to him, because of their force and eccentricity. Empson's bluntness led to controversy both during his life and after his death, and a reputation in part also as a "licensed buffoon" (Empson's own phrase).
I am immediately going to blow the gaff on Empson. This book is not so much about structure as it is about multiplicity of meaning. Also, the words are not tremendously complex: e.g. wit, dog, honest, sense (and, of course, the most lengthy in the lot, sensibility). Also, Empson is inordinately fond of the phrase "blow the gaff." At one point he goes almost 50 pages without using it. That is remarkable in this book, which sometimes has the phrase on back to back pages. But what is genuinely remarkable is just how complex our language can be, how open to interpretation. Also, of course, English has borrowed immensely from a bunch of other languages, each of which carries with it its own etymological variety. Here's a sample list. Consider the possibilities inherent in the following words: scold, revile, rail, rebuke, reprove, rate, chide, abuse, reprimand, censure, blame, reproach--all related. In one very real respect, it has taken William Empson 450 pages or so to say "Hey the language is pretty complicated; you have to be very careful with your diction." But to blow the gaff (which is not, of course, a gaff at all--a mystery or secret), no matter how unnecessarily convoluted this book seems--pages are spent examining what Hamlet probably meant by referring to his father as a "man"--it does makes some valid points.