Never Been That Fond Of Purple
About a week ago Rebecca Brandewyne posted a column on Romancing The Blog calling for a return to purple prose. Specifically, she took issue with reviewers’ criticisms of some romance books as being "overwritten." Her theory? High printing costs first drove content and story length in newspaper articles and was now having an impact on the way we write fiction. She says:
So when did all these rules that were originally designed to save on paper costs for newspaper publishers and maximize profits start to creep over from news reporting into the completely unrelated field of fiction? I don’t know. But I’ll bet it initially had something to do with book publishers also saving on paper costs.
Several folks agreed and gave her a RTB ‘atta boy for speaking up. I wasn’t one of them. Her rationale about paper and printing supplies didn’t make any sense to me. None. Like Ms. Brandewyne, I was a journalism major. Nobody in my journalism classes told me to write more succinctly because paper cost too much and ink was scarce. It was a long time ago, sure, but the professors said write clearly and without unnecessary verbiage because anything else is bad writing. Use the right words, not all the words or extra words, to set the scene and convey your point.
Next problem? The idea of yearning for a return to purple prose, which Ms. Brandewyne later termed it as "lyrical prose" when responding to one of my comments, struck me as strange and, well, possibly even irresponsible. This flowery, descriptive to the point of pain, repetitive writing is what romance writing used to be. The kind of schlock we take hits for out there in non-romanceland. What, in my view, is nothing more and nothing less than bad writing. It hearkens back to the days of bosom-filled covers and first-time sexual experiences that sounded suspiciously like rape scenes. On a site visited by unpublished writers trying very hard to become published writers, this looked like very bad advice or, at least, advice and an argument well out of step with what editors are buying.
My third problem was that at one point Brandewyne’s argument seemed to change. She went from wanting us to ignore rising costs and return to purple prose to taking a more defensive "this is what I like, read what you want" stance. Those are two very different issues. A personal opinion that writing of this type is a good thing is fine. I disagree in the strongest terms possible but this is a preference issue and I would have respected Ms. Brandewyne’s position and never posted a comment. But, this did not appear to be her point in the column and arose, really, later in the comments section and in a later report on her blog when her view was challenged. Changing an argument or refining it is fine, just be honest that you’re doing so.
I don’t know Ms. Brandewyne. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman. The disagreement was with her column and the comments that came after, not with her as a human being. Since debates arise all the time on RTB and on blogs, I do have some general thoughts, not directly connected to Ms. Brandewyne or our professional difference of opinion:
1. Learn to disagree, preferably without condescending remarks and childish shots. Sometimes saying I don’t agree really only means I don’t agree and is not a cover for something underhanded and bitchy.
2. Having an alternate view doesn’t necessarily mean we all don’t get your point. Maybe, just maybe, we get it but don’t agree with it and think it should be okay to voice that opinion.
3. Stop taking everything so damn personally. You put something out there, be prepared to have someone disagree with you. It’s okay we don’t all think the same. We should be able to do so without having to decipher snide remarks in blogland for weeks after.
4. As a genre, demand respect and earn it. Do this with solid and dynamic writing, not the same old-same old. Rise above the outdated stereotypes. Ban forever the stupid romance covers ( in case you missed it Monica had a great post on covers) and lame hooks. And, in my view, wipe out inane purple prose from romance writing. Writing well is about not over-writing or under-writing. Purple prose is a separate thing. A very bad thing. Use the right words, not the most words. Solid craft, solid storytelling, solid writing - those are the keys, not seeing how many words we can use to describe a pencil.
But, that’s just my view.
April 28th, 2005 at 8:36 am
I don’t like purple prose either. But in defense of Ms. Brandywyne, I have seen a couple of recent historicals described in reviews as “purple” or “overwritten” which I thought were just beautifully written and descriptive. So I guess one person’s purple is another person’s lyrical:-). Honestly, I do think there’s a tendency toward extreme spareness in writing right now, and that’s not necessarily a good thing. I’m not saying I want to return to the style of writing that was prevalent in the 1970s, however. There’s a middle ground in there somewhere…
April 28th, 2005 at 9:54 am
I don’t know that her argument changed as much as it’s just that she didn’t have the space on RTB to totally go into ALL of her arguments. I know that when I wrote my “It’s all about the man,” column, I later had to expand on the topic in my own blog because I couldn’t cover it all in one place–if I had, the post would have gone on for days! *g*
To keep an argument from sprawling, sometimes you just have to focus on one or two points instead of several, and I think that’s what she was doing at RTB.
And I do agree with your general points. One of the reasons I rarely post dissenting views in blog comments is because it’s so easy to be attacked very nastily.
But, like Ellen says, one person’s purple prose is another’s lyrical. And if people want to write like that, and it sells…who cares? I DETEST secret baby books, but for some reason, they sell and people love them. So while I think hooks like that are half the reason romance doesn’t get much respect…well, there IS a demand. I just have to live with that. Fortunately, there is something for everyone when it comes to romance, and I don’t get why people bash subgenres or erotica or hooks or lyrical/purple style. If it doesn’t directly hurt them, who cares?
I guess my point is that we can’t blame the authors for writing what the public wants. We need to blame the readers who want secret babies and purple prose! *g*
April 28th, 2005 at 10:34 am
You could compare a romance reader’s preference for overwrought prose the same way you’d look at those overblown, overwritten, damned near ridulous metaphors and symbology that some literary-fiction-as-prose-instead-of-story affects.
But those sexual euphemisms are plain silly. . . but here’s an idea! Purple prose romance writers can start saying everywhere that they are being “literary” as in literary fiction.
Example: Her creamy orbs heaved with the passion as if they were fright whitened dandilion seeds quivering in the raging spring winds of passion, soon to break away from their mooring and sail off to infinity.
Oh yeah, literary is the way to go. Respect, here we come!
April 28th, 2005 at 10:36 am
Oh shit, two passions there, scratch one, okay.
April 28th, 2005 at 11:32 am
I totally agree with Ellen. I can’t stand the tendency towards prose so spare you can’t even see the room in which the scene is taking place. I don’t want to read talking heads. I want to BE in the scene.
This is purple prose:–>Her creamy orbs heaved with the passion as if they were fright whitened dandilion seeds quivering in the raging spring winds of passion, soon to break away from their mooring and sail off to infinity.
This is lyrical prose:–> Ancient, moldering tapestries flapped like living things in the steady draft flowing through the room, and enormous cobwebs fluttered against the black rafters in the dim recesses of the ceiling.
I can’t remember seeing anything like the first in a book I’ve picked up in years. (Good job, Monica, hehe!) But the second is setting a scene. It’s gorgeous writing and puts us there so vividly we can smell the mustiness in the room.
April 28th, 2005 at 11:40 am
Terrific example, Alison. That’s what I was trying to convey. “Evocative” is not the same thing as “purple.” Some description is necessary; overwrought description is not.
But by all means, let’s all swear an oath never to use the phrase “creamy orbs” in our romances!
April 28th, 2005 at 1:14 pm
Alison, I’m sniffling and out of it, and it was the best I could do–but it does seem to me we’re on the same page.
Why don’t we trumpet our words as lyrical, evocative, literary prose instead of accepting their purple prose-ish definition (and as Ellen said, lose the creamy orbs and the like)?
As far as taking lessons in self-aggrandizing, look at the literary authors. They put themselves forward as intellectual and worthwhile and that’s how they are regarded. By God, they get respect and reviews. And a percentage of that literary fiction is just as crappy as the same percentage genre fiction–only it’s “literary.”
I’m just saying maybe romance should consider doing the same. Huff and puff with indignation at the phrase “purple prose” and say, “I’m not familiar with that phrase, but I assume you mean romantic, lyrical, evocative and literary prose by that.”
Everybody has different styles, and description never has been my strong point. But those who write lush description and crave reading it, should get their literary brownie points for it.
April 28th, 2005 at 4:40 pm
Larissa - I didn’t think about the word limit issue and can appreciate that. My point was that 4/5 ths of the column was dedicated to the idea of saving the trees and ink. She doesn’t talk about her preference except for one line at the end and I really didn’t think preference was her point. If she had said: I like purple prose - I never would have posted because that’s simply a case where our preferences don’t match and more power to her. The way the column was written, to me, was much more provocative than that. I rarely post on RTB. I read it but do not reply. This column made me nutty and the fact I’m still thinking about it a week later probably says something.
Ellen & Alison - I’m all for evocative and lyrical writing. I agree writing can be too spare and fail to set the scene and flesh out the characters, etc. Good writing is where the author puts you in the scene, you feel it and sense it but are not beaten over the head with the author’s love of words.
Alison - I would point to your love scene in front of the camera in the Beach Alibi. Damn sexy scene. One of those times I thought how the hell does she do that? The scene has stayed with me because of the sexiness, sure, but also because you used the right words and let the reader live it out. That’s great writing! Purple prose is a different beast. It is over done writing where the writer appears more entranced with his or her own voice than in writing well. Honestly, the example she gives on her blog about the dog is, in my view, an example of bad writing. Not lyrical, but over-written and bad. Writing people laugh at and point out to say romance writers can’t write.
Monica - You always make me laugh. The word “orb” has always been a personal favorite. I do have to disagree a bit on literary fiction. I like a lot of it and would say the stuff I’ve stumbled across lately is lyrical and not overly done. Yeah, they get all the review space and that sucks, but there’s room for everyone. And, you’re right, the way we describe the writing doesn’t matter but I do think there is a distinction between lyrical and over-the-top.
April 28th, 2005 at 7:50 pm
“Fortunately, there is something for everyone when it comes to romance, and I don’t get why people bash subgenres or erotica or hooks or lyrical/purple style. If it doesn’t directly hurt them, who cares?”
Awww, Larissa, why you gotta be such a reasonable grown-up?
It’s so much FUN to bitch and moan and poke fun. And frankly, much as I loathe secret baby books or books heavy on the lavender verbiage and delight in making fun of them, I would never, ever actively lobby for them to be excluded, banned, or prevented from being published, nor would I ever discourage someone who enjoyed these types of books from buying them.
You know what literary book I can’t stand because the prose style just constantly got in the way? The English Patient. This is just a personal impression, but the prose was so pretentious it practically preened itself while I read it. Buh.
But Moby Dick, and Melville’s insane passages that go on and on and on about nothing in particular? Bring it on. Yes, my standards are bizarre and arbitrary.
April 28th, 2005 at 8:54 pm
Candy - Ever since you admitted to reading animal nutrition textbooks I’ve been wary of you. Scary woman. And, The English Patient? Never read it but the movie made me pray for death. Anyone’s - mine, the characters, the director, anyone. It’s a constant source of strife in my household where the hubby Tivo’d the damn thing just to torture me. From time to time I try to erase it but he’s pretty quick on his feet (and with the remote) so he wins this one.
April 28th, 2005 at 9:21 pm
HelenKay…I totally understand what you’re saying, and when something bothers you a week later, it makes sense to discuss it!
Candy…LOL…and I have to say, I love to poke fun at certain romance elements/genres/hooks, etc. But boy, do I ever have to give props to the authors who write the stuff that gets laughed at, because it takes a tough hide to let the criticism roll off.
The English Patient? Tried. Quit. Tossed. Still bored. The animal nutrition textbooks sound good, though…
April 28th, 2005 at 9:35 pm
Larissa - I already threatened to ban Candy’s IP address from my site for the animal nutrition textbook thing. Sure, we negotiated an agreement to let her back on and got past that scary conversation, but I have to draw the line somewhere….
April 30th, 2005 at 9:51 am
LOL–drawing the line is important sometimes!
May 1st, 2005 at 2:19 am
As perhaps the most vocal voice outside the romance genre to find myself literally offended by Ms. Brandewyne’s column and subsequent post on her blog, and as a big fan of the English Patient, I feel it imperative to, uh, say something.
The novel of the English Patient is exactly what Ms. Brandewyne’s declaration of defense is not — it is lyrical and poetic and specific, the descriptions Michael Onndatje uses are not about the mundane aspects of color or the wrinkling of a dog’s forehead (I encourage all of you to read Ms. Brandewyn’s fascinating sentence about dog foreheads to truly appeciate my point here) but about clear, delineated detail. Specificity, above all else, creates distinction in description, it allows for the reader to experience a world instead of being bashed over the head with it. The book and the movie of the English Patient are really two very seperate things (the love affair of the nurse and Kip is, really, the main story in the book), but both are appropriate to this discussion of purple prose if only in the sense that both are lush in the right way: images, sounds, slips of time and space that invoke a story, vs. say, an over abundance of adverbs, hollow descriptions (I challenge you to find the word “milky” in The English Patient) and descriptions so trite and cliched that they ring…purple, like a bruise.
My twenty-five cents…
May 1st, 2005 at 10:21 am
I agree the dog description is too much. Way too much. It crosses the line from descriptive to bad writing, in my view. As for the English Patient, I didn’t point this one out as anything other than boring - which I thought the movie was - but have agreed to give it another shot and to read the book.
The things I do to make Wendy and my hubby (and now you, Tod) happy….