The Cumulative Sentence (Writing Blog #4)
by , 03-27-2010 at 09:20 PM (33579 Views)
I presented in my last writing blog (#3) the idea of maximalism in writing prose, and in writing blog #2 I showed how large expansive sentences created a “back filling” effect. Now I want to show how large expansive sentences create a cumulative effect, where the accumulation of modifying phrases define in detail the idea. I look at such a cumulative sentence as a blossomed flower with each modifying phrase as a petal.
What I’d like to use as the example sentence is the first stanza of Part III of T.S. Eliot’s first of the Four Quartets, Burnt Norton. Here is the actual stanza, and if one really looks closely, this is in effect a single sentence with two main clauses. Though there are full periods throughout, I think one could look at the periods as divisions within a whole, maximalist sentence.
For our purposes, I think it’s best to unravel the poetic line and string the words into a prose like sentence. Here:Here is a place of disaffection
Time before and time after
In a dim light: neither daylight
Investing form with lucid stillness
Turning shadow into transient beauty
With slow rotation suggesting permanence
Nor darkness to purify the soul
Emptying the sensual with deprivation
Cleansing affection from the temporal.
Neither plenitude nor vacancy. Only a flicker
Over the strained time-ridden faces
Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration
Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind
That blows before and after time,
Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs
Time before and time after.
Eructation of unhealthy souls
Into the faded air, the torpid
Driven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London,
Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney,
Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate. Not here
Not here the darkness, in this twittering world..
So how does this sentence work? Now that we’ve put it together, let’s break it apart.Here is a place of disaffection, time before and time after, in a dim light: neither daylight investing form with lucid stillness, turning shadow into transient beauty, with slow rotation suggesting permanence, nor darkness to purify the soul, emptying the sensual with deprivation, cleansing affection from the temporal--neither plenitude nor vacancy; [there is]only a flicker over the strained time-ridden faces, distracted from distraction by distraction, filled with fancies and empty of meaning, tumid apathy with no concentration; [here are] men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind that blows before and after time, wind in and out of unwholesome lungs, time before and time after, eructation of unhealthy souls into the faded air, the torpid driven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London, Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney, Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate: not here, not here the darkness, in this twittering world
Here is a place (first main clause)
of disaffection (adjective phrase modifying “place”)
time before and time after (adverbial modifier modifying “is”)
in a dim light (adjective phrase modifying “Here”)
neither daylight (adjective modifier modifying “place”)
investing form with lucid stillness (adjective, present participle phrase modifying “daylight”)
turning shadow into transient beauty (adjective, present participle phrase modifying “daylight”)
with slow rotation suggesting permanence (adjective phrase modifying “daylight”)
Nor darkness (adjective modifier modifying “place”)
to purify the soul (adjective phrase modifying “darkness”)
Emptying the sensual with deprivation (adjective, present participle phrase modifying “darkness”)
Cleansing affection from the temporal. (adjective, present participle phrase modifying “darkness”)
Neither plenitude (adjective modifier modifying “place”)
nor vacancy. (adjective phrase modifying “place”)
[there is ]Only a flicker (second main clause, implied)
Over the strained time-ridden faces (adjective phrase modifying “flicker”)
Distracted from distraction by distraction (adjective, past participle phrase modifying “faces”)
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning (adjective, past participle phrase modifying “faces”)
Tumid apathy with no concentration (adjective phrase modifying “faces”)
[here are] Men and bits of paper (parallel construction back to the first main clause)
whirled by the cold wind (adjective, past participle phrase modifying “men” and “paper”)
That blows before and after time, (adjective clause that modifies “wind”)
Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs (adjective clause that modifies “wind”)
Time before and time after (repeated adverbial phrase modifying “is”)
Eructation of unhealthy souls (adjective phrase modifying “here”)
Into the faded air (adjective phrase modifying “souls”)
the torpid driven on the wind (adjective phrase modifying “souls”)
that sweeps the gloomy hills of London, (adjective clause that modifies “wind”)
[of] Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate (adjective phrases modifying “hills”)
Not here, Not here the darkness, (adjective phrase modifying “place”)
in this twittering world. (adjective phrase modifying “darkness”)
Now don’t hold me precisely to all that. This was a very hard sentence to map out, and I may have gotten one or two wrong. But now I think we can really see how this works. First of all the main clause is of the most basic of sentences: subject, linking verb, noun complement. But it’s even simpler than that because “here” acts as a demonstrative pronoun, who’s antecedent is “place,” so it’s all reflexive, “here is a place.” So when there are modifiers to “place,” they are also modifying “here.” And everything else is essentially a modifier to “here/place,” or internal modifiers. This is the kernel of the entire sentence, the ovule core of the flower
So if we take out the internal modifiers, the sentence becomes: “Here is a place: neither daylight nor darkness, neither plenitude nor vacancy; there is only a flicker; here are men and bits of paper, eructation of souls, not here the darkness.” Everything after the full colon modifies place, which reflects back to here. Here then are the inner core petals, the modifiers to the kernel.
There are modifiers to “daylight,” modifiers to “darkness,” modifiers to “flicker,” modifiers to “men” and to “paper,” modifiers to the second “darkness.” These constitute the next tier set of petals.
And finally we have the internal modifiers, modifying the modifiers. This constitutes the outer tier set of petals.
And so we have the flower complete. The accumulation of modifying phrases to a simple kernel builds an extremely complex sentence, rounded with definition. The main clause “Here is a place” tells us nothing really. It’s the cumulative phrases that builds the picture.




