The most poetically beautiful English prose?( Fiction)

[stlukesguild]

We are unfortunately lost in a world of English and Americanism. Go beyond that narrow periphery to embrace the more beautiful prose of ancient Sanskrit texts. Can you compare any book ancient or modern with the Mahabharata and the Ramayana?

The Bible, The Odyssey, The Divine Comedy, Paradise Lost, War and Peace, etc... all are more than able to stand up to comparison with the great Indian texts. Add to this the Arabian Nights and the Shahnameh among Persian literature and undoubtedly JBI could cite several Chinese works of equal merit. We might also need to consider that the texts you cite are largely compendiums... anthologies... a collection of tales and poetry not unlike the Bible. They are not a single work of art created by a single artist. One might as well compare the great buried army of Qin Shi Huang...









or the Cathedral of Chartres:











... both of which are the product of literally thousands of skilled artists and craftsmen contrasted to the masterwork of a single artist... even the most prolific and superhuman:



The comparison is of little worth.

Can you find anything to match with the philosophy of the Mahabharata? All get dazzled. Our blinkered attitudes made us marginal thinkers

As others have suggested, you make too many presumptive uses of the terms "we" and "us". There are more than a few of "us" who have more than a passing familiarity of the artistic achievements beyond the West... and "we" recognize its merits... which are in no way inherently superior to those of the West. The Mahabharata may offer what you imagine to be the most profound philosophy... but a good many would argue that the Bible, Plato, Michel de Montaigne, Lucretius, Shakespeare, and many other Western writers offer a philosophy that is no less profound.

[KazooOchestra]

The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter
of the sails, and was at rest. The flood had made, the wind was nearly
calm, and being bound down the river, the only thing for it was to
come to and wait for the turn of the tide.

The sea-reach of the Thames stretched before us like the beginning of an
interminable waterway. In the offing the sea and the sky were welded
together without a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails
of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand still in red
clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished sprits.
A haze rested on the low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing flatness.
The air was dark above Gravesend, and farther back still seemed
condensed into a mournful gloom, brooding motionless over the biggest,
and the greatest, town on earth.

-Heart of Darkness

[ftil]

We are unfortunately lost in a world of English and Americanism. Go beyond that narrow periphery to embrace the more beautiful prose of ancient Sanskrit texts. Can you compare any book ancient or modern with the Mahabharata and the Ramayana?

The Bible, The Odyssey, The Divine Comedy, Paradise Lost, War and Peace, etc... all are more than able to stand up to comparison with the great Indian texts. Add to this the Arabian Nights and the Shahnameh among Persian literature and undoubtedly JBI could cite several Chinese works of equal merit. We might also need to consider that the texts you cite are largely compendiums... anthologies... a collection of tales and poetry not unlike the Bible. They are not a single work of art created by a single artist. One might as well compare the great buried army of Qin Shi Huang...









or the Cathedral of Chartres:











... both of which are the product of literally thousands of skilled artists and craftsmen contrasted to the masterwork of a single artist... even the most prolific and superhuman:



The comparison is of little worth.

Can you find anything to match with the philosophy of the Mahabharata? All get dazzled. Our blinkered attitudes made us marginal thinkers

As others have suggested, you make too many presumptive uses of the terms "we" and "us". There are more than a few of "us" who have more than a passing familiarity of the artistic achievements beyond the West... and "we" recognize its merits... which are in no way inherently superior to those of the West. The Mahabharata may offer what you imagine to be the most profound philosophy... but a good many would argue that the Bible, Plato, Michel de Montaigne, Lucretius, Shakespeare, and many other Western writers offer a philosophy that is no less profound.

Well said. I prefer West philosophy and literature. It is very personal what we like or not. But I read religious or philosophical texts with a critical eye.

Osho wrote:
Our blinkered attitudes made us marginal thinkers

LOL!

[kiki1982]

The London fog is a fairly obvious metaphor for the fog of legal proceedings, I agree, but that is no reason not use it, if you have the powers of prose-poetry that Dickens can command.

Can you point to a similar passage by an earlier writer that has such power to evoke an atmosphere of hidden corruption? Or simply just the atmosphere of an atmosphere - that captures the smoggy London of Victorian times so well?

I can't see how you can call the passage poor - I can only think you are deaf to that particular music.

Where is the original for his choice of words?

Oh, I am not talking about the metaphor in itself. Rather about the way it is described. To me, the language is poor, too obvious and unoriginal. True, he was writing for a publc wchich was not going to comprehend the kind of high-brow vocab Hardy used, but please. To me, and that is why I would like to chuck a Dickens book against the wall after about two pages (if he is lucky) it is as if, firstly, he had a good idea but failed to execute it well and secondly, did not have the vocabulary to do it properly. Say Turner but without the ability to capture and with his paint falling off the canvas after a few years.

The metaphor is fine, but do you have use the most obvious words? Repeat fog over and over as if for the first time it was not enough? He could have opted for another word.

Again, give the same to Hardy and he makes it something out of this world. Or maybe to Scott? His descriptions of the Highlands in Waverley were eye-watering sometimes. Although I did not get into that novel, he did capture that spirit.

"Fine old Christmas, with the snowy hair and ruddy face, had done his duty that year in the noblest fashion and had set off his rich gifts of warmth and colour with all the neighbouring contrast of frost and snow." (George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss)

Can't remember whether it is a metaphor, but it is certainly much shorter and exactly gives you the feeling it should give, and it is a great idea in itself as well.

Hardy's description of Tess listening to Angel playing on his lyre (?) when they are both working at that dairy farm is also pretty special. Some reminiscences of Apollo or something... There is an Eden feeling in the whole passage and the sancing of the light in the high grass (?) was most captivating.

Also Marcellus Emants, Dutch writer and as yet not translated apart from one late book of his, outdoes himself sometimes. What he has flowing from his pen... And yes that is later, and?

My point about Dickens is that he is too obvious in his use of words. He picks nothing that is original, special, interesting.

Take his description of Venice in Little Dorrit. At that time it was the most disgusting and filthy place in Europe. Run down because the wealth of its inhabitants was squandered in the 18th century, full of diseased people, crammed together in the tiny area. He presents it as an airy place of dreams, most wonderful. You would swear he had never been there, yet he was there twice! If anything the state of it was worse than London. It had once been a place of dreams, but in the 19th century it was a place wehre nothing was going on, where there was no future. Think Whitechapel, London, but ten times the size at least.It is as if he just looked around and decided that Venice must be the place of dreams, romance etc. (as it is marketed now), only totally out of place. Or otherwise I missed something.

[Tournesol]

I have to agree with Kiki, about Thomas Hardy. His descriptions both of landscapes and of characters tend to be quite poetic.

Also, I find Samuel Selvon, in his short story 'My Girl and the City' is very, poetic prose. It's such a beautiful story that it sometimes makes me want to cry!

[Stewed]

Repeating "fog" again and again gives the impression of a repeating beat: it's deliberately incantatory; and there are very serious writers of prose who deliberately choose simple language and short words.

[Ragnar Freund]

[Falcon Raven] But poetic prose supported by strong plot and believable characters are what make the best of literature, in my opinion.

[stlukesguild] It could be that your opinion is far from reality.

And what reality would that be? Raven Falcon explicitly stated that this was his opinion, so either you equate your opinion with reality, or else you claim that there is some objective, absolute yardstick of which I'm unaware.

I agree with rest of your comment, and I'm actually in the process of writing a post decrying the downfall of the short story and the rise of the novel as the major product of modern literature.

[JBI]

I don't know - to me the strength of Dickens lies in his comic-strip creation of characters - I don't think anybody else can come up with such interesting caricatures, even minor characters have their comedic flair.

Comedy writing is a strange art - Dickens had an aptitude for it, regardless of the chunkiness of his prose. It's really a question of how much one can stomach prose-fiction. In general most Victorian authors suffered from similar problems, such as Trollope, or even the more Gothic Brontes.

As for those Terracotta Warriors, meh, kind of boring to be honest, it's like a big factory with a bunch of boring statues. In the Chinese tradition, what does it for me are Buddhist sculpture - the Terracotta warriors are interesting since they are numerous, and since nobody is particularly sure how they were created, but in the end look even more ridiculous with their paint on them.

Now, as for the great Rock Grottoes

Da Zu



Longmen


Yun'gang




As well as the ones in DunHuang which I have not been to. Note, for the Dazu ones, most of the most famous artwork is in a darkly lit cave where photography is not allowed, as goes for the Yungang ones.

[Mutatis-Mutandis]

But poetic prose supported by strong plot and believable characters are what make the best of literature, in my opinion.

It could be that your opinion is far from reality. The novel is a rather recent development in terms of the history of literature, while poetry is far older. Member Mortalterror threw up a list of literary works on another thread including:

1.The Iliad
2.The Odyssey
3.The Divine Comedy
4.The Plays of Shakespeare
5.The Shahnameh
6.The Mahabharata
7.War and Peace
8.The Dream of the Red Chamber
9.The Aeneid
10. The Ramayana

I might add the Bible, Paradise Lost, The Canterbury Tales, Les Fleurs du mal, Leaves of Grass, and a good many others all ranking among the greatest works of literary art ever. Of these, only War and Peace and The Dream of the Red Chamber are novels... concerned primarily with character development and plot conveyed through prose.

I'm not suggesting there aren't great novels out there or that that narrative (story telling) and character development are not of merit... but the novel... the art form that is most centered upon these elements... is a relatively new development and certainly doesn't account for anywhere near the majority of the strongest literature out there.

I would also suggest that it would be difficult to define "poetic prose" when you consider that poetry itself varies greatly in style. There's another thread on "prose stylists" that explores a similar idea:

http://www.online-literature.com/for...ad.php?t=64397

As could yours, StLukes.

[JBI]

Or perhaps a far different kind of artwork - that of accidental agriculture:

The Yuanyang rice terraces - pictures not mine (the fog and distance cannot really take without a proper lens, I got maybe one picture of the top of one terrace view in my personal collection, though I bought the stacks of postcards)






Now that is what I call collective effort.

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

Or perhaps a far different kind of artwork - that of accidental agriculture:

The Yuanyang rice terraces - pictures not mine (the fog and distance cannot really take without a proper lens, I got maybe one picture of the top of one terrace view in my personal collection, though I bought the stacks of postcards)



Now that is what I call collective effort.

I'm at a loss for words. I'll just say amazing!
Thanks for sharing.


.

[kinesj]

In no particular order: John Milton, William Faulkner, Thomas Wolfe, Robert Penn Warren, and Cormac McCarthy

[kiki1982]

Repeating "fog" again and again gives the impression of a repeating beat: it's deliberately incantatory; and there are very serious writers of prose who deliberately choose simple language and short words.

I know some writers use that, and that does not bother me, but to me, he repeated it just that little bit too much so that it became rather annoying and actually distracted from the image he was trying to create in my mind. Also, for there to be a beat, there must be sentences somewhat similar with the same rhythm, which bothered me as well.

As Chaucer so brilliantly captured the tremblings and roars of war in that passage in The Knight's Tale. And I know that is verse, but he adjusted his rhythm especially.

Usually, when words are repeated, it makes a kind of tension that culminates in a climax. None of that either in the passage above (or otherwise the last bit was left out).

[MarkBastable]

That bit of Dickens is one of my favourite passages of prose.

[mal4mac]

Dickens is *so* good at beginning novels. Here's another "poetic" beginning, cast into the form of poetry to make the point

It was the best of times,
It was the worst of times,
It was the age of wisdom,
It was the age of foolishness,
It was the epoch of belief,
It was the epoch of incredulity,
It was the season of Light,
It was the season of Darkness,
It was the spring of hope,
It was the winter of despair,

We had everything before us,
We had nothing before us,
We were all going direct to Heaven,
We were all going direct the other way...

Beginning the first nine clauses with "It was"! The outrageousness of genius...

I know some writers use that, and that does not bother me, but to me, he repeated it just that little bit too much so that it became rather annoying and actually distracted from the image he was trying to create in my mind. Also, for there to be a beat, there must be sentences somewhat similar with the same rhythm, which bothered me as well.

He'd already done that in "Tale", ("it was...", "it was...")... perhaps - being a great original - he was aiming for a more swirling, inconstant beat this time - thereby reflecting the nature of fog, and the law, in his way of using language.