LONGS AND SHORTS.
TN the sphere of expression all people can be divided into two classes, abbreviators and expanders, though it does not follow that laconic utterance betrays a lack of ideas or that exuberance indicates a well-stocked mind. The often- quoted maxim of Vanvenargues, ice meilleurs auteurs patient drop, is only true of men of exceptional genius, such as Shakespeare, Balzac, Victor Hugo, and even here it is at least arguable that they might have profited by a certain amount of self-criticism and retrenchment. Certainly those great writers who deliberately practised condensation and conciseness have no reason to regret their choice, and the lapidary style is an abiding witness to the merit of brevity. But here we are not concerned with the practice of those who wrote primarily to please themselves. It is our humbler task to consider the opposing tendencies as they are illustrated in two classes, abbreviators and expanders, though it does not follow that laconic utterance betrays a lack of ideas or that exuberance indicates a well-stocked mind. The often- quoted maxim of Vanvenargues, ice meilleurs auteurs patient drop, is only true of men of exceptional genius, such as Shakespeare, Balzac, Victor Hugo, and even here it is at least arguable that they might have profited by a certain amount of self-criticism and retrenchment. Certainly those great writers who deliberately practised condensation and conciseness have no reason to regret their choice, and the lapidary style is an abiding witness to the merit of brevity. But here we are not concerned with the practice of those who wrote primarily to please themselves. It is our humbler task to consider the opposing tendencies as they are illustrated in the workaday world—in conversation, correspondence, Parlia- ment, and journalism. To take the last-named sphere of activity first, it is interesting to note the wide divergence which prevails between the advertisement and the editorial columns of the Press. In the former condensation is a necessity, because the writer is not paid but pays for what is printed. Hence the copious resort to such curtailments as "refs," and the use of initials such as " h " and " c," "L. T.," and so on. This commercial condensation has not been without its influence on colloquial style, though perhaps it would be safer to attribute to the hustling tendency of modern times the preference for such forme as " bike " and "phone" and "Met." Names of things in constant use should never be too long. The cinematograph has inevitably dwindled into the "cinema," while young America calls these shows the "movies." But the passion for polysyllables, though considerably abated, has not died out of the Press. (How could it, when so much work is paid for by length P) Not ao many years ago Mr. Punch's famous advice to those about to marry was referred to in a leading daily as "the memorable monosyllabic monition of the Democritue of Fleet Street." The world would be much drearier if journalism were shorn of these decorations, and refused to conciliate those minds which find magic and consolation in" that blessed word Mesopotamia." Authors like Matthew Arnold, for example, may boldly repeat words and phrases, much as a composer employs a leading motive ; but the essence of journalism, as practised by some of its most illustrious representatives, is paraphrase, or at least the avoidance of repetition. Thus, if you have alluded to Bacchus in one sentence, and desire to allude to him in the next or the next but one, you must not say Bacchus tout court, but "that classic deity traditionally associated with indulgence in spirituous liquors." There is a story of a leader-writer on the same paper who quoted the saying, " To the pure all things are pure," and was promptly hauled over the coals by the editor. " You can't say ' to the pure all things are pure' ; 'innocuous' or 'harmless' perhaps, but not pure." The leader-writer gently explained that it was not his own phrase, but a quotation from St. Paul, whereon the editor retorted: " Well, all I can say is that St. Paul would never have written for the Daily Semaphore." Even Wordsworth dodged the use of the word " tea " by describing it as "China's fragrant herb." Per the best example of picturesque periphrasis, however, with which we are acquainted appeared in a provincial Irish newspaper. The writer was describing the coming-of-age festivities held in honour of the eon of a local landlord. Dancing formed part of the entertainment, and the fiddler was referred to as "Paganini's representative." Not quite eo good, but still excellent of its kind, was the phrase "the unfortunate Brabantian nobleman," coined by a London musical critics to describe Telramund in Loltengrin. To discuss modern journalism without reference to America would be an un- pardonable omission. The American newspaper Press is far more varied than ours. There are daily and weekly American papers which for sheer ability, sanity, and accuracy of infor- mation equal, if they do not eclipse, anything of the sort that is published in the English language. There are also American newspapers which in their disregard for the privacy of the individual exceed the worst offences of our yellow Press. And so is it again in respect of the rival modes of expression—the concise and the prolix. America is the land of quick lunches—and of orations. The style of speaking is more full-blooded, florid, and orotund than ours. Lincoln, it is true, was never diffuse, and in his great moments his words, as it has been said, seemed to burn with the heat of their compreesion. But Lincoln was unique. The worship of mammoth dimenaione, to which one of their own writers gave the name of " Jumbomania," is reflected in American newpapers as well as in their skyscrapers. Their talk, like their buildings, ie tall, though nowhere are these excesses more sternly eschewed or more severely castigated than in the best American papers. Yet while Americans have contributed many dubious coinages to the journalistic vocabulary, it would be ungenerous not to admit that they have enriched it by many terse, vivid, and indispensable additions. If we owe them, as we believe we do, such monstrosities as "mentality," we are also indebted to them for " boom " and "slump" and " boss " and many other irresistible monosyllables. There is originality, too, in American abbreviations. The shortened forms of- the names of the States—Fla., Ga., Pa., Me., Ky.—may be somewhat lacking in dignity, but the apace-saving instinct occasionally produces engaging results. The preface to the American Who's Wee contains a long list of these abbreviations, amongst which we may note "Pros. Atty." for Prosecuting Attorney, " Prog." for Progressive, "Spay." for speciality, and, strangest of all, " Conglist." for Congregationalist. We wonder whether the meaning of these abridgments is more widely understood in America than with us. " General papers" set for English schoolboys reveal diverting ignorance of the correct significance of such forms as "R.S.V.P.," "P.P.O., " OM.," and so on. It is alleged that an Irishman of a previous generation believed that " G.P.O." stood for "God Preserve O'Connell," and the late Sir George Grove used to tell a story in connexion with his work on the North-Western Railway in 1846 of an illiterate Chester tradesman who, when asked wing the letters " G.B." (General Station) stood for, promptly replied "Julius Caesar."
The use of clipped colloquialisms in conversation is no proof of a desire to achieve terseness. People who, in the words of Calverley's pseudo-Browning, "Love to dock and clip their parts of speech As we curtail the already cur-tailed cur," do so more from laziness than anything else. Conver- sational shorthand is mostly silly or irritating, like the odious practice of writing "all right" "alright," but when it is the outcome of tricks or high spirits it can be amusing—amongst friends. It is not altogether a new habit. The present writer remembers bearing from an old man, who would be over a hundred if be were alive now, of a woman who lived at one of the favourite viewpoints in the Wicklow Hills, and who seed to greet excursionists, with the salutation: "Welcome, gents from Dub." The ingenious Captain Harry Graham has even written a whole poem in this truncated style. But it cannot be regarded as a time• saving device, for those who use it have generally plenty of time on their hands. The abbreviated terminology of com- merce is another matter. But even here we see evidences of an opposing tendency in the long persuasive articles witi:It crowd our papers, and in the dignified diction of the shop- walkers—one of whom is credited with the phrase "mitigated affliction" for half-mourning.
Modern conditions have undoubtedly tended to greater brevity in Parliamentary speeches. Purple patches and quotations have practically disappeared, and the new style, which aims above all at lucidity and efficiency, found perhaps its best exponent in the late Mr. Chamberlain. Mr. Churchill is at times flamboyant and always rhetorical, and Mr. Lloyd George indulges freely in metaphors and illustrations, but one of the most persuasive speakers—Sir Edward Grey—probably uses fewer epithets than any other living politician. But then a Foreign Minister who restricts his utterances to important occasions is secure of his audience. Voltaire was right when he said that to secret d'ennuyer eat celui de tout dire ; on the other hand, a golden voice and a flowing delivery will make banalities sound like eternal verities. Exuberant verbosity intoxicates the audience as well as the speaker.
Previous page
