Let us take a trip back to June 2010, when I posted the following:
"Let me note that Kilgore Trout and I have never used semicolons. They don't do anything, don't suggest anything. They are transvestite hermaphrodites."
Just as the semicolon was becoming a vital addition to my writing, Kurt Vonnegut - one of my favourite authors of all time - had to go and ruin it for me. Still, I bow to his superior literary genius, and accept that I'll have to modify my style accordingly. The above quote is from Timequake, which I've just finished rereading. Just one of the many examples of his brilliance.
Back in 2012, I still admire and enjoy Vonnegut a great deal. However, when I penned the above my own writing was still in its formative stages. Almost two years on I'm much more confident, and therefore much more inclined to take on sacred cows. The semicolon is a perfectly useful literary tool in the hands of those who know how to use it; one that can be deployed effectively in order to establish the mood or flow of a sentence, much like commas and full stops can be. Vonnegut was wrong to dimiss it, and wrong to suggest that writers should avoid it at all costs.
It's a stance he reasserted and expounded upon often, further dismissing the semicolon by suggesting that "All they do is show you've been to college." In this sense, his complaint takes on a distinct air of anti-intellectualism for anti-intellectualism's sake. If we accept that he's wrong then the comment becomes nothing more than a cheap shot at the educated, Vonnegut playing to one crowd whilst trying to make another feel foolish. The notion of blacklisting any grammatical device is ludicrous and restrictive, in a way that inhibits writers rather than challenging them. It's no more a valid statement than Stephen King's "don't use adverbs" mantra, but it's more celebrated simply because Vonnegut is held in higher regard by literary critics and "educated" readers (funnily enough), whereas King is more a man of the common people, and thus seen as easier to dismiss.
The point, of course, is that you shouldn't listen to anyone who would attempt to impose barriers on the way you write, or influence you away from certain techniques and devices. Guidelines are fine, and often very useful indeed, but cast iron rules only narrow what can be achieved. Vonnegut may well have been a genius. He even had a great many of the answers. But not all of them.
Links of interest:
Jon Henley considers the semicolon's place in modern literature.
A spirited defense of the semicolon.
An explanation of how and when to use a semicolon.
Thursday 22 March 2012
Saturday 17 March 2012
Reflections on seeing Jeff Mangum live
It can be difficult to write about a music festival. Offering a straightforward review doesn't really work, simply because the "I saw this band and they were good, then I saw another band and they were also good" approach quickly becomes repetitive. Which is why many writers attempt to add some colour to proceedings and tell the "story" of their festival.
Of course, that has its own unique set of pitfalls too. Some people will tell you every detail - from getting on a train to travel to the festival to walking back through their front door once it's all over - but don't have any aptitude for making the mundane fascinating. As an example:
"Woke up hungover. Ate bacon sandwich(es). Contemplated going swimming. Went swimming/did not feel up to swimming. Felt pretty certain there was no way I'd be able to drink. Cracked open a beer at around four in the afternoon and got on with it anyway. Continued drinking until it was time to sleep. Both the craic and the bands were great."
The above neatly summarises my Saturday and Sunday at Jeff Mangum's All Tomorrow's Parties, but fails to say anything interesting whatsoever. Plus I only used 61 words. Imagine reading that stretched out to essay length. Hell, you don't need to imagine it: you can find plenty of examples across the internet.
Still, better that than the over-earnest souls who make out their festival experience to be life changing. Music can, on occasion, have such a profound effect upon a person, as can music performed live. But a music festival? I'm not convinced. There are too many factors at play, far too many variables to worry about. Too much time spent hungover, too much time spent drinking through it, or, if you're not consuming industrial quantities of alcohol, too much time spent in close proximity to people who are. Too many uptight people, too many people who could do with toning it down a little, too many people who by the third day are clinging on for dear life. Festivals are communal experiences, not transcendental ones, more about the fun of spending a weekend intoxicated amongst friends and other somewhat likeminded individuals than specific artists and performances.
This holds true even when the artist is as seminal as Jeff Mangum. Few albums mean as much to me as In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, and when All Tomorrow's Parties announced that he would be curating one of its two December 2011 events, tickets were immediately purchased as excitement struggled to contain itself. Unfortunately, for reasons that still have not been adequately explained, the festival was postponed until March 2012. No problem: it just meant there was more time for the anticipation to build.
He played two shows over the course of his ATP weekend. The first was early Friday evening, and it was good - and given the quality of the songs, most likely even great - but it wasn't incredible, and in the aftermath came the search for reason. Was it some failing on my part, an inability to truly appreciate a performance I'd wanted to see for so long? Was it the audience: were they somehow not up for it, into it, enjoying it enough? Maybe it was the venue? Was it the timing of the show, the fact that is was on relatively early, when everyone had spent the day travelling to get there and hadn't quite shaken the exhaustion associated with their journeys nor drunk enough to disguise it? Was it Jeff's choice of "Two Headed Boy Pt. Two" to open proceedings, a song so full of a sense of finality - both in its thematic/lyrical content and in the fact that it closes the second and final Neutral Milk Hotel album - that to start with it just didn't seem right? Or was his decision to tour solo rather than with a full band to blame?
One friend offered up the possibility that it was Jeff himself, arguing that maybe he just doesn't care about the songs enough anymore to truly do them justice on stage; that for him, the music of Neutral Milk Hotel is part of his past, no matter how much a part of the present and future it may be for his devotees. The post-mortem didn't produce any definite answers, so we chose to revel in the fact that we'd seen him play (something we never thought would happen) and convinced ourselves that the Sunday show would be better.
And it was. Much better, in fact: far closer to the experience I'd longed for than Friday's set, more inspired and emotional on Jeff's part, played to an audience who seemed more appreciative second time around. However, it didn't entirely dispel the notion that maybe he was wrong to return to performing altogether. Even now, I wonder if his story had more value as that of a man who decided to turn his back on music after recording his masterpiece, rather than that of a man who has put his reclusiveness/reluctance to perform to one side in order to play his songs to a generation of people who never had the chance to see them live. I wouldn't have missed him for the world, but in truth those people who chose not to see him didn't miss too much. It didn't change my life, but then it didn't need to. Seeing incredible songs performed well by one of my heroes was more than enough for one weekend.
Of course, that has its own unique set of pitfalls too. Some people will tell you every detail - from getting on a train to travel to the festival to walking back through their front door once it's all over - but don't have any aptitude for making the mundane fascinating. As an example:
"Woke up hungover. Ate bacon sandwich(es). Contemplated going swimming. Went swimming/did not feel up to swimming. Felt pretty certain there was no way I'd be able to drink. Cracked open a beer at around four in the afternoon and got on with it anyway. Continued drinking until it was time to sleep. Both the craic and the bands were great."
The above neatly summarises my Saturday and Sunday at Jeff Mangum's All Tomorrow's Parties, but fails to say anything interesting whatsoever. Plus I only used 61 words. Imagine reading that stretched out to essay length. Hell, you don't need to imagine it: you can find plenty of examples across the internet.
Still, better that than the over-earnest souls who make out their festival experience to be life changing. Music can, on occasion, have such a profound effect upon a person, as can music performed live. But a music festival? I'm not convinced. There are too many factors at play, far too many variables to worry about. Too much time spent hungover, too much time spent drinking through it, or, if you're not consuming industrial quantities of alcohol, too much time spent in close proximity to people who are. Too many uptight people, too many people who could do with toning it down a little, too many people who by the third day are clinging on for dear life. Festivals are communal experiences, not transcendental ones, more about the fun of spending a weekend intoxicated amongst friends and other somewhat likeminded individuals than specific artists and performances.
This holds true even when the artist is as seminal as Jeff Mangum. Few albums mean as much to me as In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, and when All Tomorrow's Parties announced that he would be curating one of its two December 2011 events, tickets were immediately purchased as excitement struggled to contain itself. Unfortunately, for reasons that still have not been adequately explained, the festival was postponed until March 2012. No problem: it just meant there was more time for the anticipation to build.
He played two shows over the course of his ATP weekend. The first was early Friday evening, and it was good - and given the quality of the songs, most likely even great - but it wasn't incredible, and in the aftermath came the search for reason. Was it some failing on my part, an inability to truly appreciate a performance I'd wanted to see for so long? Was it the audience: were they somehow not up for it, into it, enjoying it enough? Maybe it was the venue? Was it the timing of the show, the fact that is was on relatively early, when everyone had spent the day travelling to get there and hadn't quite shaken the exhaustion associated with their journeys nor drunk enough to disguise it? Was it Jeff's choice of "Two Headed Boy Pt. Two" to open proceedings, a song so full of a sense of finality - both in its thematic/lyrical content and in the fact that it closes the second and final Neutral Milk Hotel album - that to start with it just didn't seem right? Or was his decision to tour solo rather than with a full band to blame?
One friend offered up the possibility that it was Jeff himself, arguing that maybe he just doesn't care about the songs enough anymore to truly do them justice on stage; that for him, the music of Neutral Milk Hotel is part of his past, no matter how much a part of the present and future it may be for his devotees. The post-mortem didn't produce any definite answers, so we chose to revel in the fact that we'd seen him play (something we never thought would happen) and convinced ourselves that the Sunday show would be better.
And it was. Much better, in fact: far closer to the experience I'd longed for than Friday's set, more inspired and emotional on Jeff's part, played to an audience who seemed more appreciative second time around. However, it didn't entirely dispel the notion that maybe he was wrong to return to performing altogether. Even now, I wonder if his story had more value as that of a man who decided to turn his back on music after recording his masterpiece, rather than that of a man who has put his reclusiveness/reluctance to perform to one side in order to play his songs to a generation of people who never had the chance to see them live. I wouldn't have missed him for the world, but in truth those people who chose not to see him didn't miss too much. It didn't change my life, but then it didn't need to. Seeing incredible songs performed well by one of my heroes was more than enough for one weekend.
Friday 2 March 2012
Despite defeat, Pearce may still be the best man to lead England forward
I was about halfway through writing a glowing testimonial to Stuart Pearce's handling of his role as England caretaker manager Wednesday afternoon when I realised that were his side to lose to Holland, any such piece would instantaneously be rendered null and void. When Ashley Young equalised late on, I celebrated in the belief that my endeavours had not gone to waste. Arjen Robben had other ideas, however, destroying my carefully crafted words with his heavily deflected goal. So it goes.
Football is a results game, and if no-one was clamouring for Pearce to take over before Holland came to Wembley, the 3-2 defeat may well have damaged his case irreparably. Yet there were plenty of positives to be taken from the performance. Scott Parker excelled as captain, leading from the front rather than simply resorting to pointing often and shouting loudly, the template for many of those who followed before him. Daniel Sturridge had little over half the game to make his mark, and did so impressively, furthering not just his case for inclusion in the European Championship squad but as one of the first names on the teamsheet. None of the younger players looked overawed by the occasion. And a major plus point in favour of Pearce was the fact that the changes he made after England went two goals down had a positive enough effect that England were able to draw level, albeit briefly. Putting things into perspective, defeat against a Holland side that finished runners-up at the last World Cup is nothing to be ashamed of, and should not lead to panic.
Let's consider the man who is most likely to land the role. Harry Redknapp has naturally been the subject of a fair amount of discussion as far as his tactical nous - or lack thereof - is concerned, with some proclaiming him to be naive in that area whilst others insist that he only pretends to be. Whichever stance you take, his stock wasn't helped by Tottenham's 5-2 defeat at Arsenal. Ignoring the scoreline, it was the manner of the performance that was worrying, with his side somehow taking a 2-0 lead before capitulating, making the much maligned likes of Theo Walcott and Tomas Rosicky look like world beaters in the process. Redknapp's attempts to influence the game - such as his introduction of Sandro and van der Vaart at half-time - had a negative impact, and the defensive ineptness shown by Tottenham's back four (all regular starters) was more profound than any of England's failings on Wednesday night.
The success of tactically astute ex-players such as Josep Guardiola and Antonio Conte is evidence of a sea change in the priorities of coaches, of a shift to an approach that is less focused on motivating and more focused on tactics, and formations, and the ability to read the game well enough to make adjustments on the fly. No-one is claiming that Pearce is on the level of Guardiola or Conte, but he does have the advantage of being extremely familiar with England's younger players, having coached most of them at U21 level. The mistakes against Holland appeared to be the temporary aberrations of an unfamiliar and inexperienced back four playing together for the first time, rather than any kind of failing on Pearce's part; the type of errors one would assume a few weeks of training together would eliminate. It seems reasonable to assume that a man who has spent the last five years as part of the England set-up has a better chance of pulling things together at this late stage than a man parachuted into the position at the last minute.
Pearce's own suggestion that he could coach the national side at Euro 2012 but not beyond the tournament is patently ridiculous; either he's capable of doing the job or he's not. The Football Association have clearly been grooming him to eventually lead the senior side since he first joined the England set-up back in 2007, as evidenced by the increased responsibilities they have bestowed upon him. Much like this country's younger generation of players, he both needs and deserves his opportunity sooner rather than later.
Looking at it another way, were Pearce to bomb at the European Championships, would that really be a disaster? If we're honest, England are in the midst of a transitional phase, and cannot be considered serious contenders. Even in the short term, appointing someone new could do more damage than good. If, for example, Redknapp were to get the job, what happens if England fail to make it past the group stages? Could he really claim to be the right man to lead the side forward? If Pearce fails, on the other hand, then it would be reasonable to dismiss him from his duties as both caretaker and U21 manager - thus getting rid of the last person associated with the Fabio Cappello era - and the FA could search for the right man without the need to rush the decision. In other words, with Pearce in charge there would be positives to take from even the worst case scenario.
And the best case scenario? That Pearce fulfils the promise many people see in him, and coaches a young England side to at least the quarter-finals, delivering as much as any of his predecessors and marking the nation out as one that may well be capable of challenging for major honours come 2012. Sound fanciful? Perhaps. But we'll never have a better chance to find out where the truth lies than Poland and Ukraine this summer.
Football is a results game, and if no-one was clamouring for Pearce to take over before Holland came to Wembley, the 3-2 defeat may well have damaged his case irreparably. Yet there were plenty of positives to be taken from the performance. Scott Parker excelled as captain, leading from the front rather than simply resorting to pointing often and shouting loudly, the template for many of those who followed before him. Daniel Sturridge had little over half the game to make his mark, and did so impressively, furthering not just his case for inclusion in the European Championship squad but as one of the first names on the teamsheet. None of the younger players looked overawed by the occasion. And a major plus point in favour of Pearce was the fact that the changes he made after England went two goals down had a positive enough effect that England were able to draw level, albeit briefly. Putting things into perspective, defeat against a Holland side that finished runners-up at the last World Cup is nothing to be ashamed of, and should not lead to panic.
Let's consider the man who is most likely to land the role. Harry Redknapp has naturally been the subject of a fair amount of discussion as far as his tactical nous - or lack thereof - is concerned, with some proclaiming him to be naive in that area whilst others insist that he only pretends to be. Whichever stance you take, his stock wasn't helped by Tottenham's 5-2 defeat at Arsenal. Ignoring the scoreline, it was the manner of the performance that was worrying, with his side somehow taking a 2-0 lead before capitulating, making the much maligned likes of Theo Walcott and Tomas Rosicky look like world beaters in the process. Redknapp's attempts to influence the game - such as his introduction of Sandro and van der Vaart at half-time - had a negative impact, and the defensive ineptness shown by Tottenham's back four (all regular starters) was more profound than any of England's failings on Wednesday night.
The success of tactically astute ex-players such as Josep Guardiola and Antonio Conte is evidence of a sea change in the priorities of coaches, of a shift to an approach that is less focused on motivating and more focused on tactics, and formations, and the ability to read the game well enough to make adjustments on the fly. No-one is claiming that Pearce is on the level of Guardiola or Conte, but he does have the advantage of being extremely familiar with England's younger players, having coached most of them at U21 level. The mistakes against Holland appeared to be the temporary aberrations of an unfamiliar and inexperienced back four playing together for the first time, rather than any kind of failing on Pearce's part; the type of errors one would assume a few weeks of training together would eliminate. It seems reasonable to assume that a man who has spent the last five years as part of the England set-up has a better chance of pulling things together at this late stage than a man parachuted into the position at the last minute.
Pearce's own suggestion that he could coach the national side at Euro 2012 but not beyond the tournament is patently ridiculous; either he's capable of doing the job or he's not. The Football Association have clearly been grooming him to eventually lead the senior side since he first joined the England set-up back in 2007, as evidenced by the increased responsibilities they have bestowed upon him. Much like this country's younger generation of players, he both needs and deserves his opportunity sooner rather than later.
Looking at it another way, were Pearce to bomb at the European Championships, would that really be a disaster? If we're honest, England are in the midst of a transitional phase, and cannot be considered serious contenders. Even in the short term, appointing someone new could do more damage than good. If, for example, Redknapp were to get the job, what happens if England fail to make it past the group stages? Could he really claim to be the right man to lead the side forward? If Pearce fails, on the other hand, then it would be reasonable to dismiss him from his duties as both caretaker and U21 manager - thus getting rid of the last person associated with the Fabio Cappello era - and the FA could search for the right man without the need to rush the decision. In other words, with Pearce in charge there would be positives to take from even the worst case scenario.
And the best case scenario? That Pearce fulfils the promise many people see in him, and coaches a young England side to at least the quarter-finals, delivering as much as any of his predecessors and marking the nation out as one that may well be capable of challenging for major honours come 2012. Sound fanciful? Perhaps. But we'll never have a better chance to find out where the truth lies than Poland and Ukraine this summer.
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