I can memorize definitions for a test, and I will admit to using the synonym tool on Microsoft Word .. a lot .. er .. I mean, a "great deal," "in abundance," "copiously," "in multiplicity" ..
When my tutors looked over my first two papers, they both had the exact same comment: SIMPLIFY YOUR LANGUAGE. IF THERE IS AN EASIER WAY TO SAY IT, THEN ANYTHING ELSE IS POOPTACULAR!
Okay, I may have used thesaurus.com to edit that last statement.
But since having that discussion with my tutors, writing has been slightly more fun. I can be myself when I'm writing, even when I'm writing about metaphors.
Right?
My tutorials finished on Monday (but talking about it makes me sad, hence this distracting blog post about something only sort of related), and I've been thinking about this language thing ..
This evening, I waited in line for half an hour to see the Professor of Poetry, Geoffrey Hill, present his lecture for this term. First, what is a Professor of Poetry? I'm going to go ahead and compare it to either poet laureate or maybe the secretary of a high school student government. His peers voted for him to have the title of Professor of Poetry, and really, his only job is to make a speech once a term. He was elected in November of 2010 and will serve for five years. I could tell he was awesome before I even entered the building because I have seen students writing papers about him in the Bodleian and because he has his own Wikipedia page. Unfortunately, his article is missing a picture, but trust me when I say that he has an incredible beard, very reminiscent of Walt Whitman.
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| That beard just screams, "Poetic Excellence!" |
But then I actually started to listen to what he was saying.
It was like he was raised on SAT workbooks. Every single word he used was the most intelligent sounding, pretensiousifying, unsatisfying option for what he was expressing. Within ten minutes, half of the second row was in a coma, and I was getting antsy. Even though we could all understand what he was saying, his over-the-top language was exhausting. When he said that he would be running five minutes over, I almost gave up and snored. He quoted a rap song, but then ruined it by explicating the exquisite boundaries of its oxymoronic characteristics due to its chronological relation to the one hundred and eighth sonnet of William Shakespeare, which, of course, references the I CAN'T EVEN FINISH MY PARODY. I AM GIVING MYSELF A HEADACHE.
So, I ask you, dear reader(s),
What is the point of being a genius if you can't communicate to the common man?
Should we make sure that what we write is enjoyable to read? That it doesn't cross the line into "I have a huge stick up my butt and the only way to ease the pain is to study the thesaurus during all hours of daylight"? Where is that line?
Am I crossing it now?
Could I ever? Sometimes I still spell "receive" wrong.
Really, though, think about it. Whether or not we want to be J.K. Rowling, we all have to share our ideas at one point or another. What is the best way to do it?
And finally, are beards a sign of genius? And if so, how do I get one?
