There are so many ideas swarming in my head at any given point of time and each of them methinks has blogworthy potential. But the operative word is ‘potential’ for many times an idea that seems good while shooting between neurons doesn’t translate well when put on paper. I’ve been making a conscious attempt to move away from my quotidian english but seem to fail every time. Of course to put wonderfully complex ideas into simple words is a skill perfected by Hemingway / RK Narayanan. Simple is not so simple after all. I’ve had a chance to read blogs by people younger to me and i get a complex, for their language is crisp and the expression is fluid. All I want to do is read their words/works and forget mine. Does each passing generation always yearn to belong to the following generation ?
Anna Margaret Ross (née McKittrick; 8 December 1860 – 2 February 1939), known by her pen-name Amanda McKittrick Ros, was a Northern Irish writer. She published her first novel Irene Iddesleigh at her own expense in 1897. She wrote poetry and a number of novels. Her works were not read widely, and her eccentric, over-written, “purple” circumlocutory writing style is alleged by some critics to be some of the worst prose and poetry ever written.
Aldous Huxley wrote that “In Mrs. Ros we see, as we see in the Elizabethan novelists, the result of the discovery of art by an unsophisticated mind and of its first conscious attempt to produce the artistic. It is remarkable how late in the history of every literature simplicity is invented.”
This is how she informs the reader how Delina earned money by doing needlework: She tried hard to keep herself a stranger to her poor old father’s slight income by the use of the finest production of steel, whose blunt edge eyed the reely covering with marked greed, and offered its sharp dart to faultless fabrics of flaxen fineness.Her novel Delina Delaney begins: Have you ever visited that portion of Erin’s plot that offers its sympathetic soil for the minute survey and scrutinous examination of those in political power, whose decision has wisely been the means before now of converting the stern and prejudiced, and reaching the hand of slight aid to share its strength in augmenting its agricultural richness?
(The sentence approximately means, “Have you ever been to the part of Ireland studied by the government with the aim of modernizing its agriculture?”)The Oxford literary group the Inklings, which included such luminaries as C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, held competitions to see who could read Ros’ work for the longest length of time while keeping a straight face.Northrop Frye said of Ros’ novels that they use “rhetorical material without being able to absorb or assimilate it: the result is pathological, a kind of literary diabetes”.
Of course when you are these fucking people (C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, Aldous Huxley, Nick Page, Northrop Frye) you can get away with bloody criticizing anybody 🙂