Writing With Grace

Rhythm

by Dim Aldebaran

Often, in writing it's the subtle things that really add elegance to a piece. Writing With Grace will provide detailed explanations of writing techniques that can give a story that polished feeling, and make it a pleasure to read over and over again.

One such technique is rhythm, which is a sequence of stressed and unstressed syllables stringed together in a particular pattern. Now, a stressed syllable, or a beat, is a syllable that has an emphasis to it when you say it. Most nouns and verbs are stressed, and most conjunctions and prepositions are unstressed. For example, the word 'truck' is stressed, and the word 'and' is unstressed. Much of whether a syllable is stressed and unstressed is relative to the surrounding phrase. For example:

"Sweet drink of kings, sweet death that sings its Siren-song to me."

Say it aloud; does it not simply roll off of the tongue? Now, look at the placement of the stressed syllables:

"Sweet drink of kings, sweet death that sings its Siren-song to me."

Stressed syllables will be notated with italics throughout this article, rather than with the ` symbol, to avoid confusion.

Note that the stressed syllables alternate evenly with the unstressed syllables, which is what creates that rushing flow. This particular pattern is called iambic. Iambic is easily the most common of the complex rhythmic patterns. Another, similar pattern is known as trochee; the difference between the two is whether the stressed beat is placed first, or last. I will refer to both as iambic.

Also note also that the beats fall on the rhymed words-'kings' and 'sings.' This gives the rhythm a heavier feel to it, almost a sense of pulsation versus undulation.

Now read this one aloud:

"She shakes her head and then she said:
'The wrong shall fail, the right prevail!'"

When read, the stressed syllables, or beats, naturally stand out. Try picking the beats out yourself, then check it against the below:

"She shakes her head and then she said:
'The wrong shall fail, the right prevail!'"

Many words, though notated as being one syllable, actually consist of two syllables, a stressed and an especially weak unstressed syllable. This can create problems while writing, since this syllable, inconspicuous when said aloud, can give the line an unbalanced, chaotic feel to it. For example:

"The child has a complex mission
in the style of crime remission:
he has no need for alibis
nor for clever little lies."

The word 'child' actually has two syllables in it, and is made to fit into the line accordingly. However, 'style' is another such word, and it is notated as one stressed syllable. Though on a casual read this may be too subtle to detect, when that line is read aloud it is a little distracting to the ear. Though such words cannot always be avoided, it is best if they are.

Also note with that example how the lines alternate between starting with a stressed an unstressed beat, and how the amount of beats per line changes. When read aloud, this is difficult to detect, though when read silently it can be distracting at times.

Many people are more used to this technique applied to poetry, as in the above examples, but I find that using it in other forms of writing can make them pleasing to listen to when read aloud. Shakespeare is a particularly famous example: his plays were also written almost exclusively in iambic. This was especially evident in his monologues and soliloquies, where grace and fluidity of speech emphasizes the passage's power. Turning to prose, many modern authors use complex rhythmic devices in their writing, like Anne Proulx (Brokeback Mountain) and James Joyce (Ulysses).

Of course, there is such a thing as 'bad' rhythm in prose, i.e., that it can be distracting. For example, when there are many particular words in a sentence with similar rhythms (beating, running, crying; cheerfully, patiently, willingly) that are not being used with deliberate and effective repetition, it is both an eyesore and it jars on the ear. Usually, when editing, such poor rhythms are instinctually edited out - though one might not be aware why a phrase sounds bad, but one can identify the problem spot and change it. Poor use of rhythm, thus, will not be discussed extensively here.

There are many beneficial ways to use 'good' rhythms in prose:

A simple one is to put heavier, more stressed syllables at the end of a phrase so there's a sort of lead up to it with less stressed syllables. A famous example from The Declaration of Independence:

"Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

See how the heaviest group of words, 'pursuit of happiness,' was put at the end of the phrase? Try moving around the word groupings in different orders and note how awkward it sounds - not because its current word order is familiar, but because that is how it is the most rhythmically pleasing.

Another simple way to use rhythm in prose is to vary it, just as one might vary sentence structure and diction. To simply be conscious of the rhythm one uses, and to be careful not to be repetitious with the rhythms without purpose, can lend a pleasing sense of variation and fullness within the piece.

Another way is by putting stressed beats close to each other for emphasis. Use of this usually falls at the end of a phrase, so the last few words are the ones with the stressed emphasis and the preceding syllables form a sort of lead-up. However, the use of stressed and unstressed beats can also be used to actually prevent emphasis on a particular part of a phrase. For example:

"She dies, and as she dies she dreams -"

The stressed sounds are also alliterative, consisting of a soft 'd' that blends in with the long, unstressed vowels. The effect is that no particular part of the phrase is emphasized any more than another, even though there is an iambic feel to the phrase.

This combination of alliterative and rhythmic techniques shall be covered in further detail in a later article.

Until now, complex rhythms have not been discussed in prose. Two other common ones are anapests, or dactylic. I tend to use the two interchangeably, since they both refer to the alternation of two unstressed beats and a stressed beat; the difference between the two lies merely in whether the stressed beat comes before or after the unstressed beats. Here are some examples:

"...perhaps some paths were through those fabled fields of gold..."
"...like a man through the rain as it thundered and lightninged."

Iambic has already been extensively discussed in the beginning of the article; it can be applied to prose in the same sense as the dactylic.

If interested, one can research other rhythmic patterns on any good poetry website and apply them to prose with the described methods.

By no means should one the more complex rhythms throughout an entire piece! Not only is rhythm in prose still highly experimental, but it also takes a great deal of control Also, the gratuitous use of rhythm is frowned upon, and takes away the advantage of emphasis. It should only be used when one wants to emphasize a lyrical quality to a particular passage, to be accentuated by diction, careful alliterative practices, and aphorisms. Some places where it is commonly used are stream of consciousnesses, high emotion, and monologues. These are the places that people will remember the most.

To use an example from A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man, by James Joyce, there is a sequence where the protagonist Stefan Dedalus has the realized that life has no meaning to it, and visits a red light district. The rhythm switches between iambic and dactylic to create an onrushing, almost overpowering effect. This scene remains to me the most memorable in all of literature, not only for the powerful content and climax of the philosophical entreaty of the entire novel, but also for its perfect use of diction, analogy, alliteration, and, of course, rhythm.

Rhythm is best practiced using a controlled poetry form. It doesn't have to rhyme, of course; to use Shakespeare as an example, his great plays are almost exclusively in iambic pentameter with very little rhyme. At first, stick to lines that have the same, measured beat throughout, with the same number of stressed and unstressed syllables throughout the piece. Once one has a firm sense of rhythm, move onto applying rhythm in short phrases, and then drabbles. These practice methods will increase ones awareness of rhythm, and will thus make one a more conscientious writer as a whole.

 

Examples not sourced in article, in order of appearance: Tartarus, Blood Roses IV, Father Lucifer, Antianeira, and Fleur de Lis all by the author of the article.