Composition-Rhetoric

by Stratton D. Brooks; Marietta Hubbard

EXERCISE

Consider the following selections with reference to the choice of words which add to the effectiveness of the descriptions:—

1. She was a little, brown, thin, almost skinny woman with big, rolling, violet-blue eyes and the sweetest manners in the world.

2. The sounds and the straits and the sea with its plump, sleepy islands lay north and east and south.

3. The mists of the Cuchullins are not fat, dull, and still, like lowland and inland mists, but haggard, and streaming from the black peaks, and full of gusty lines. We saw them first from the top of Beimna-Caillach, a red, round-headed mountain hard by Bradford, in the isle of Skye.

Shortly after noon the rain came up from the sea and drew long delicate gray lines against the cliffs. It came up licking and lisping over the surface of Cornisk, and drove us to the lee of rocks and the shelter of our ponchos, to watch the mists drifting, to listen to the swell and lull of the wind and the patter of the cold rain. There were glimpses now and then of the inner Cuchullins, a fragment of ragged sky line, the sudden jab of a black pinnacle through the mist, the open mouth of a gorge steaming with mist.

We climbed the great ridge, at length, of rock and wet heath that separates Cornisk from Glen Sligachan, slowly through the fitful rain and driving cloud, and saw Sgurr-nan-Gillian, sharp, black, and pitiless, the northernmost peak and sentinel of the Cuchullins. The yellow trail could be seen twisting along the flat, empty glen. Seven miles away was a white spot, the Sligachan Hotel.

I think it must be the dreariest glen in Scotland. The trail twists in a futile manner, and, after all, is mainly bog holes and rolling rocks. The Red Hills are on the right, rusty, reddish, of the color of dried blood, and gashed with sliding bowlders. Their heads seem beaten down, a Helot population, and the Cuchullins stand back like an army of iron conquerors. The Red Hills will be a vanished race one day, and the Cuchullins remain.

Arthur Colton: The Mists o' Skye ("Harper's").

+132. Additional Aids to Effectiveness.+—Comparison and figures of speech not only aid in making our picture clear and vivid, but they may add a spice and flavor to our language, which counts for much in the effectiveness and beauty of our description. Notice the following descriptions:—

He was a mongoose, rather like a little cat in his fur and his tail, but quite like a weasel in his head and his habits. His eyes and the end of his restless nose were pink; he could scratch himself anywhere he pleased, with any leg, front or back, that he chose to use; he could fluff up his tail till it looked like a bottle brush, and his war cry as he scuttled through the long grass was Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tikk.

—Kipling: Jungle Book.

Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with short stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of his saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers' legs; he carried his whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and, as his horse jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip of forehead might be called; and the skirts of his black coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and his steed, as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in broad daylight.

—Irving: Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

+Theme LVIII.+—Write a description of one of the following:—

1. My cat. 2. The pony at the farm. 3. The glen. 4. The prairie. 5. The milldam. 6. The motorman. 7. The picture on this page.

[Illustration]

(Consider the effectiveness of your description. Can you improve your choice of words? Have you used comparisons or figures, and if so, do they improve your description? Consider your theme with reference to euphony. Section 16.)

+133. Classes of Objects Frequently Described.+—There is no limit to the things that we may wish to describe, but there are certain general classes of objects that are described more frequently than others. We have greater occasion to describe men or places than we have to describe pictures or trees. A person may be an accurate observer having a large vocabulary applicable to one class of objects, and thus be able to describe objects of that class clearly and effectively; though at the same time, on account of limited experience and small vocabulary, he cannot well describe objects belonging to some other class. The ability to observe accurately the classes of objects named below, and to appreciate descriptions of such objects when made by others, is a desirable acquisition. Every effort should be made to master as many as possible of the words applicable to each class of objects. A slight investigation will show how great is the number of such words with which we are unfamiliar.

1. Descriptions of buildings or portions of buildings.

In most buildings the basement story is heaviest, and each succeeding story increases in lightness; in the Ducal palace this is reversed, making it unique amongst buildings. The outer walls rest upon the pillars of open colonnades, which have a more stumpy appearance than was intended, owing to the raising of the pavement in the piazza. They had, however, no base, but were supported by a continuous stylobate. The chief decorations of the palace were employed upon the capitals of these thirty-six pillars, and it was felt that the peculiar prominence and importance given to its angles rendered it necessary that they should be enriched and softened by sculpture, which is interesting and often most beautiful. The throned figure of Venice above bears a scroll inscribed: Fortis, justa, trono furias, mare sub pede, pono. (Strong and just, I put the furies beneath my throne, and the sea beneath my foot.) One of the corners of the palace joined the irregular buildings connected with St. Mark's, and is not generally seen. There remained, therefore, only three angles to be decorated. The first main sculpture may be called the "Fig-tree angle," and its subject is the "Fall of Man." The second is "the Vine angle," and represents the "Drunkenness of Noah." The third sculpture is "the Judgment angle," and portrays the "Judgment of Solomon."

—Hare: Venice.

+Theme LIX.+—Write a description of the exterior of some building.

+Theme LX.+—Write a description of some room.

+Theme LXI.+—Write a description of some portion of a building, such as an entrance, spire, window, or stairway.

(Consider each description with reference to—
a. Point of view.
b. Fundamental image.
c. Selection of essential details.
d. Selection and subordination of minor details.
e. Arrangement of details with reference to their natural positions in
space.
f. Effective choice of words and comparisons.)

2. Natural features: valleys, rivers, mountains, etc.

Beyond the great prairies and in the shadow of the Rockies lie the Foothills. For nine hundred miles the prairies spread themselves out in vast level reaches, and then begin to climb over softly rounded mounds that ever grow higher and sharper, till here and there, they break into jagged points and at last rest upon the great bases of the mighty mountains. These rounded hills that join the prairies to the mountains form the Foothill Country. They extend for about a hundred miles only, but no other hundred miles of the great West are so full of interest and romance. The natural features of the country combine the beauties of prairie and of mountain scenery. There are valleys so wide that the farther side melts into the horizon, and uplands so vast as to suggest the unbroken prairie. Nearer the mountains the valleys dip deep and ever deeper till they narrow into canyons through which mountain torrents pour their blue-gray waters from glaciers that lie glistening between the white peaks far away.

—Connor: The Sky Pilot.

Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm;
And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands;
Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf
In cluster; then a molder'd church; and higher
A long street climbs to one tall tower'd mill;
And high in heaven behind it a gray down
With Danish barrows, and a hazelwood,
By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes
Green in a cuplike hollow of the down.

—Tennyson: Enoch Arden.

+Theme LXII.+—Write a description of some valley, mountain, field, woods, or prairie.

+Theme LXIII.+—Write a description of some stream, pond, lake, dam, or waterfall.

(Consider especially your choice of words.)

3. Sounds or the use of sounds.

And the noise of Niagara? Alarming things have been said about it, but they are not true. It is a great and mighty noise, but it is not, as Hennepin thought, an "outrageous noise." It is not a roar. It does not drown the voice or stun the ear. Even at the actual foot of the falls it is not oppressive. It is much less rough than the sound of heavy surf— steadier, more homogeneous, less metallic, very deep and strong, yet mellow and soft; soft, I mean, in its quality. As to the noise of the rapids, there is none more musical. It is neither rumbling nor sharp. It is clear, plangent, silvery. It is so like the voice of a steep brook— much magnified, but not made coarser or more harsh—that, after we have known it, each liquid call from a forest hillside will seem, like the odor of grapevines, a greeting from Niagara. It is an inspiriting, an exhilarating sound, like freshness, coolness, vitality itself made audible. And yet it is a lulling sound. When we have looked out upon the American rapids for many days, it is hard to remember contented life amid motionless surroundings; and so, when we have slept beside them for many nights, it is hard to think of happy sleep in an empty silence.

—Mrs. Van Rensselaer: Niagara ("Century").

Yell'd on the view the opening pack;
Rock, glen, and cavern, paid them back;
To many a mingled sound at once
The awaken'd mountain gave response.
A hundred dogs bay'd deep and strong,
Clatter'd a hundred steeds along,
Their peal the merry horns rung out,
A hundred voices join'd the shout;
With hark, and whoop, and wild halloo,
No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew.
Far from the tumult fled the roe,
Close in her covert cower'd the doe;
The falcon, from her cairn on high,
Cast on the rout a wondering eye,
Till far beyond her piercing ken
The hurricane had swept the glen.
Faint, and more faint, its failing din
Return'd from cavern, cliff, and linn,
And silence settled, wide and still,
On the lone wood and mighty hill.

—SCOTT: Lady of the Lake.

+Theme LXIV.+—Describe some sound or combination of sounds, or write a description introducing sounds.

Suggested subjects:— 1. Alone in the house. 2. In the woods at night. 3. Beside the brook. 4. In the factory. 5. A day at the beach. 6. Before the Fourth. 7. On the seashore.

(Notice especially the words that indicate sound.)

4. Color or the use of color.

A gray day! soft gray sky, like the breast of a dove; sheeny gray sea with gleams of steel running across; trailing skirts of mist shutting off the mainland, leaving Light Island alone with the ocean; the white tower gleaming spectral among the folding mists; the dark pine tree pointing a somber finger to heaven; the wet, black rocks, from which the tide had gone down, huddling together in fantastic groups as if to hide their nakedness.

—Laura E. Richards: Captain January.

The large branch of the Po we crossed came down from the mountains which we were approaching. As we reached the post road again they were glowing in the last rays of the sun, and the evening vapors that settled over the plain concealed the distant Alps, although the snowy top of the Jungfrau and her companions the Wetterhorn and Schreckhorn rose above it like the hills of another world. A castle or church of brilliant white marble glittered on the summit of one of the mountains near us, and, as the sun went down without a cloud, the distant summits changed in hue to a glowing purple, mounting almost to crimson, which afterwards darkened into a deep violet. The western half of the sky was of a pale orange and the eastern a dark red, which blended together in the blue of the zenith, that deepened as twilight came on.

—Taylor: Views Afoot.

+Theme LXV.+—Write a description in which the color element enters largely.

5. Animals, birds, fishes, etc.

The Tailless Tyke had now grown into an immense dog, heavy of muscle and huge of bone. A great bull head; undershot jaw, square and lengthy and terrible; vicious yellow gleaming eyes; cropped ears; and an expression incomparably savage. His coat was a tawny lionlike yellow, short, harsh, dense; and his back running up from shoulder to loins ended abruptly in a knoblike tail. He looked like the devil of a dog's hell, and his reputation was as bad as his looks. He never attacked unprovoked; but a challenge was never ignored and he was greedy of insults.

—Alfred Ollivant: Bob, Son of Battle.
(Copyright, Doubleday and McClure.)

Read the description of the kingbird (page 224), and of the mongoose (page 242).

+Theme LXVI.+—Write a description of some animal, bird, or fish.

(What questions should you ask yourself about each description you write?)

6. Trees and plants.

How shall kinnikinnick be told to them who know it not? To a New Englander it might be said that a whortleberry bush changed its mind one day and decided to be a vine, with leaves as glossy as laurel, bells pink-striped and sweet like the arbutus, and berries in clusters and of scarlet instead of black. The Indians call it kinnikinnick, and smoke it in their pipes. White men call it bearberry, I believe; and there is a Latin name for it, no doubt, in the books. But kinnikinnick is the best,—dainty, sturdy, indefatigable kinnikinnick, green and glossy all the year round, lovely at Christmas and lovely among flowers at midsummer, as content and thrifty on bare, rocky hillsides as in grassy nooks, growing in long, trailing wreaths, five feet long, or in tangled mats, five feet across, as the rock or the valley may need, and living bravely many weeks without water, to make a house beautiful. I doubt if there be in the world a vine I should hold so precious, indoors and out.

—Helen Hunt Jackson: Bits of Travel at Home.

A mango tree is beautiful and attractive. It grows as large as the oak, and has a rich and glossy foliage. The fruit is shaped something like a short, thick cucumber, and is as large as a large pear. It has a thick, tough skin, and a delicious, juicy pulp. When ripe it is a golden color. A tree often bears a hundred bushels of mangoes.

—Marian M. George.

+Theme LXVII.+—Write a description of some tree that you have seen.

(Consider your theme with reference to the general principles of composition treated in Chapter V.)

+134. Description of Persons: Character Sketches.+—The general principles of description are applicable to the description of a person, and should be followed for the purpose of presenting a clear and vivid image. Our interest, however, so naturally runs beyond the appearance and is concerned with the character, that most descriptions of persons become character sketches. Even the commonest terms of description, such as keen gray eyes, square chin, rugged countenance, are interpreted as showing character, and depart to some degree from pure description. Often the sole purpose of description is to show character, and only those details are introduced which accomplish this purpose.

In life we judge a man's character by his actions, and so in the character sketch we are led to infer his character from what he does. The character indicated by his appearance is corroborated by a statement of his actions and especially by showing how he acts. (See Section 10.) Sometimes no descriptive matter is given, but we are left to make our own picture to fit the character indicated by the actions. In many books the descriptive elements which would enable us to form an image of some person are distributed over several pages, each being introduced where it supplements and emphasizes the character shown by the actions.

Notice the following examples:—

The Rev. Daniel True stood beside the holy table. For such a scene, perhaps for any scene, he was a memorable figure. He had the dignity of early middle life, but none of its signs of advancing age. His hair was quite black, and curled on his temples boyishly; his mustache, not without a worldly cut, was as dark as his hair, and concealed a mouth so clean and fine that it was an ethical mistake to cover it. He had sturdy shoulders, although not quite straight; they had the scholar's stoop; his hands were thin, with long fingers; his gestures were sparing and significant; his expression was so sincere that its evident devoutness commanded respect; so did his voice, which was authoritative enough to be a little priestly and lacking somewhat in elocutionary finish as the voices of ministers are apt to be, but genuine, musical, persuasive, at moments vibrant with oratorical power. He had a warm eye and a lovable smile. He was every inch a minister, but he was every nerve a man.

—Elizabeth Stuart Phelps: A Sacrament ("Harper's").

She was not more than fifteen. Her form, voice, and manner belonged to the period of transition from girlhood. Her face was perfectly oval, her complexion more pale than fair. The nose was faultless; the lips, slightly parted, were full and ripe, giving to the lines of the mouth warmth, tenderness, and trust; the eyes were blue and large, and shaded by drooping lids and long lashes; and, in harmony with all, a flood of golden hair, in the style permitted to Jewish brides, fell unconfined down her back to the pillion on which she sat. The throat and neck had the downy softness sometimes seen which leaves the artist in doubt whether it is an effect of contour or color. To these charms of feature and person were added others more—an indefinable air of purity which only the soul can impart, and of abstraction natural to such as think much of things impalpable. Often, with trembling lips, she raised her eyes to heaven, itself not more deeply blue; often she crossed her hands upon her breast, as in adoration and prayer; often she raised her head like one listening eagerly for a calling voice. Now and then midst his slow utterance, Joseph turned to look at her, and, catching the expression kindling her face as with light, forgot his theme, and with bowed head, wondering, plodded on.

—Lew Wallace: Ben-Hur.
(Copyright, 1880, Harper and Bros.)

When Washington was elected general of the army he was forty-three years of age. In stature he a little exceeded six feet; his limbs were sinewy and well proportioned; his chest broad, his figure stately, blending dignity of presence with ease of manner. His robust constitution had been tried and invigorated by his early life in the wilderness, his habit of occupation out of doors, and his rigid temperance, so that few equalled him in strength of arm or power of endurance. His complexion was florid, his hair dark brown, his head in shape perfectly round. His broad nostrils seemed formed to give expression and escape to scornful anger. His dark blue eyes, which were deeply set, had an expression of resignation and an earnestness that was almost sad.

—Bancroft.

There were many Englishmen of great distinction there, and Tennyson was the most conspicuous among the guests. Tennyson's appearance was very striking and his figure might have been taken as a living illustration of romantic poetry. He was tall and stately, wore a great mass of thick, long hair—long hair was then still worn even by men who did not affect originality; his frame was slightly stooping, his shoulders were bent as if with the weight of thought; there was something entirely out of the common and very commanding in his whole presence, and a stranger meeting him in whatever crowd would probably have assumed at once that he must be a literary king.

—Justin McCarthy: Literary Portraits from the Sixties ("Harper's").

The door opened and there appeared to these two a visitor. He was a young man, and tall,—so tall that, even with his hat off, his head barely cleared the ceiling of the low-studded room. He was slim and fair-haired and round-shouldered. He had the pink and white complexion of a girl; soft, fair hair; dark, serious eyes; the high, white brow of a thinker; the nose of an aristocrat; and he was in clerical garb.

—Sewall Ford: The Renunciation of Petruo ("Harper's").