Dis-Adjectivisation

On the grounds that I still hamper my own ability through a reliance upon adjectives (and the occasional adverb), I'm revisiting that first chapter of Second Fist.

It's interesting to pull them all out and see the difference it makes to the flow of the writing:

Adjectised

We ran the next red, slid across the sweaty tarmac and tore away into the night. The road was ours and though the town’s breath was heavy on our necks we didn’t look back. Behind us the central precinct sprawled like a ruptured wound; picked clean of community and hospitality. And at its concrete heart where the darkness swelled and a poison had taken root, the land had begun to die.

Okay, so there are four adjectives there, though admittedly the second is allowed since we'd otherwise not know what kind of precinct. So, what does it read like without the other three?

Sans Adjectives

We ran the next red, slid across the tarmac and tore away into the night. The road was ours and though the town’s breath was heavy on our necks we didn’t look back. Behind us the central precinct sprawled like a wound; picked clean of community and hospitality. And at its heart where the darkness swelled and a poison had taken root, the land had begun to die.

I can then address further ideas with the new text, namely that third sentence, which now hangs limply at the middle, around the word wound:

Behind us the central precinct sprawled. A wound; picked clean of community and hospitality.

That serves to break up the structure a bit more, puts wound into the mouth of the narrator - more like a direct thought than just a description, and helps increase the pace.

It's a far shine from my original opening, which was desperately clunky:

We ran the next red, slid across the sweaty tarmac and tore away into the night. The road was ours and though the town’s breath was heavy on our necks we didn’t look back. We left behind the labyrinth of roundabouts and diversion signs that surrounded the central precinct and disorientated visitors, who more often than not found themselves lost or returning from where they’d come. Inside that perimeter the town’s hub sprawled like a ruptured wound; picked clean of community and hospitality. And at its concrete heart where the darkness swelled and a poison had taken root, the land had begun to die.

Murakami on Dialogue

Haruki Murakami has an interesting take on the use of dialogue. His books seem to be more about characterisation than plot and so there feels as if a lot goes into the construction of his dialogue. And in that I have three observations:

Sumire frowned and sighed. "If they invent a car that runs on stupid jokes, you could go far."

"Put it down to an impoverished intellect," I said humbly.

"Okay, all joking aside, I want you to give it some serious thought. What do you think she showed me there? If you get it right, I'll pay the bill."

I cleared my throat. "She showed you the gorgeous clothes you have on. And told you to wear them to work."

"You win," she said. "She has this rich friend with clothes to spare who's just about the same size as me. Isn't life strange? There are people who have so many leftover clothes they can't stuff them all in their wardrobe. And then there are people like me, whose socks never match. Anyway, I don't mind. She went over to her friend's house and came back with an armful of these leftovers. They're just a bit out of fashion if you look carefully, but most people wouldn't notice."

I wouldn't know no matter how closely I looked, I told her.

Sumire smiled contentedly. "The clothes fit me like a glove. The dresses, blouses, skirts - everything. I'll have to take in the waist a bit, but put a belt on and you'd never know the difference. My shoe size, fortunately, is almost the same as Miu's, so she let me have some pairs she doesn't need. High heels, low heels, summer sandals. All with Italian names on them. Handbags, too. And a little make-up."

"A regular Jane Eyre," I said.

Dialogue

The dialogue is written in two different styles. Firstly, with the usual quotations: "A regular Jane Eyre", but also as a direct tell to the reader: I wouldn't know no matter how closely I looked, I told her.

Murakami uses this to break up conversations, much in the same way as changing sentence length changes the pace of the narrative. In his latest book: After Dark he resorted to colons: Kaori: "Well, I never". It's an interesting choice and it works, but I'm not yet sure why.

Adverbs

In eight lines of dialogue there are two adverbs. Their use: I said humbly and Sumire smiled contentedly, keep the pace of the dialogue going. The reader isn't side-tracked with a list of what each character is doing at this time, or with an elongated discussion on relating just how contented Sumire looks.

We're all told we should avoid adverbs and adjectives however Murakami shows their perfect use. He is taking the dialogue and modifying slightly to enhance their manner. And sprinkled disparatley they have greater power. If, "put it down to an impoverished intellect" hadn't included the defining I said humbly the reader could easily, and wrongly, imagine that the character, K, giving a wink or a self-important smile of his own - which would be out of character certainly.

And with Sumire, we get a spiel that pours out of her about clothes, serving, from her contented smile to consolidate her infatuation not so much with the clothes but with her love interest Miu.

These short adverb breaks help the dialogue inform the reader on these characters. Sumire has until now dressed like the Beatnik Jack Kerouac, is turning by proxy into a woman as her infatuation with Miu grows.

K's character comes across in his wit, his references and his self deprecation.

Beats

We can use the sparse descriptions of movement or manner to inform the reader on the beats of the scene. During conversation Murakami only relates a change in expression or a movement when a character reacts to something - ahh, the art of brevity:

1. Sumire frowned and sighed.
- she is upset by K's joke.

2. I said humbly.
- K tries to ingratiate himself by making a self deprecating statement. He didn't mean to offend.

3. I cleared my throat.
- K is preparing to say something important (and of course, we have the distinct impression, or at least I do, that he fancies Sumire. He's not averse to giving her a compliment).
- She doesn't pick up on it. There is no reaction, because...

4. Sumire smiled contentedly.
- ... whether or not she picks up on his compliments she seems more enamoured with all thought of Miu than K.

The Last Review

So, I've had a day or two away from my "perfect" short... and it's time to look at it one last time - it's the adverb/adjective, active/passive pass.

First off, as far as adverbs are concerned, I've got away scot free - I'm remembering somethings, I guess. On the adjective front, I've notched up a score of 50; that's 50 in 1,500. Is that bad? Analysing the winning story of Winter Kills I've found 53, and looking at the Language Log, I find that 50 or 53 is just over 3% of the whole text, well within the suggested 6% limit - if we can indeed believe in a strict taxonomy.

Well, needless to say I'm not going to get bent out of shape by 3% of adjectives.

Hopefully, if my eyes don't decieve me, I only found two occasions of passivity. I did discover this great reminder site on Active and Passive voices, and their uses, which didn't have much use in the context of the short, but nevertheless... I think what's important - now - to think about with active and passive voice is that with every break in the sentence, every new clause must be considered on its own, and actively/passively reorganised dependent upon who is then the new subject.