Essays in the Art of WritingStevenson, Robert Louis
History
Essays in the Art of Writing
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Authorship; Literature -- History and criticism; Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894 -- Authorship
3. _Rhythm of the Phrase_.—Some way back, I used a word which still
awaits an application. Each phrase, I said, was to be comely; but what
is a comely phrase? In all ideal and material points, literature, being
a representative art, must look for analogies to painting and the like;
but in what is technical and executive, being a temporal art, it must
seek for them in music. Each phrase of each sentence, like an air or a
recitative in music, should be so artfully compounded out of long and
short, out of accented and unaccented, as to gratify the sensual ear.
And of this the ear is the sole judge. It is impossible to lay down
laws. Even in our accentual and rhythmic language no analysis can find
the secret of the beauty of a verse; how much less, then, of those
phrases, such as prose is built of, which obey no law but to be lawless
and yet to please? The little that we know of verse (and for my part I
owe it all to my friend Professor Fleeming Jenkin) is, however,
particularly interesting in the present connection. We have been
accustomed to describe the heroic line as five iambic feet, and to be
filled with pain and confusion whenever, as by the conscientious
schoolboy, we have heard our own description put in practice.
‘All night | the dreàd | less àn | gel ùn | pursùed,’ {21}
goes the schoolboy; but though we close our ears, we cling to our
definition, in spite of its proved and naked insufficiency. Mr. Jenkin
was not so easily pleased, and readily discovered that the heroic line
consists of four groups, or, if you prefer the phrase, contains four
pauses:
‘All night | the dreadless | angel | unpursued.’
Four groups, each practically uttered as one word: the first, in this
case, an iamb; the second, an amphibrachys; the third, a trochee; and the
fourth, an amphimacer; and yet our schoolboy, with no other liberty but
that of inflicting pain, had triumphantly scanned it as five iambs.
Perceive, now, this fresh richness of intricacy in the web; this fourth
orange, hitherto unremarked, but still kept flying with the others. What
had seemed to be one thing it now appears is two; and, like some puzzle
in arithmetic, the verse is made at the same time to read in fives and to
read in fours.
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