In praise of the adverb

[lobelia321]

I have previously inveighed in these pages against the absurd injunction against the use of adverbs in fiction.

I am distressed to note that this injunction appears even in the otherwise admirable UEA Creative Writing Coursebook:


Against the Adverb

A man who 'runs quickly' is a weak verb and a weak adverb. Have him 'pelt', 'dash', 'race' or 'rush'. Look at anything that ends in 'ly' and consider saying goodbye to it.

Quite apart from the fact that 'a man' cannot be 'a verb', weak or otherwise.

Quote taken from James Friel, 'Redrafting Your Novel', a chapter in Julia Bell and Paul Magrs, eds, The Creative Writing Coursebook, 2001



Hm, perhaps the Creative Writing Coursebook is not all that admirable, after all. As is no coursebook that doles out prescription and proscription.

For the Adverb

Because here is the counter-proof. I am reading The Line of Beauty and remembered why I love Alan Hollinghurst's luscious baroque and adverbially rich prose:



Drinks were being served on the long terrace, and when he came out through the French windows there were two or three small groups already laughing and glowing. You could tell that everyone had been on holiday, and like the roses and begonias they seemed to take and hold the richly filtered evening light. Gerald was talking to a somehow familiar man and his blonde-helmeted wife; Nick knew from his smiles and guffaws that he was being recklessly agreeable. None of his particular friends was here yet, and Toby was still upstairs with Sophie, interminably getting dressed. ...

Let me give you that passage again with the adverbs (ending in 'ly'!!) highlighted:

Drinks were being served on the long terrace, and when he came out through the French windows there were two or three small groups already laughing and glowing. You could tell that everyone had been on holiday, and like the roses and begonias they seemed to take and hold the richly filtered evening light. Gerald was talking to a somehow familiar man and his blonde-helmeted wife; Nick knew from his smiles and guffaws that he was being recklessly agreeable. None of his particular friends was here yet, and Toby was still upstairs with Sophie, interminably getting dressed. ...




I challenge anyone to improve the above passage by taking out the adverbs.

And just for the sexy heck of it :



Buggery

Next day Nick wandered for lost half-hours through what he'd done, taking the tube of gel, that was folded back neatly, three-quarters empty, and peering at it in the gloom with relief and embarrassment; turning Leo round in his arms and unbuttoning his jeans as if they were his own, and prising his broad blunt hard-on from his pants as he eased them down, and pushing him forward to hold on to the bench as he knelt behind him and paid the kind of homage with his tongue and lips that he'd dreamed of paying for years to a whole night-catalogue of other men. He loved the scandalous idea of what he was doing more perhaps than the actual sensations and the dull very private smell. He twisted his own pants down to his knees, and smiled at the liberated bounce of his dick in the cool night air, and kissed his smile into Leo's sphincter. Then when he fucked Leo, which was what he did next, a sensation as interesting as it was delicious, he couldn't help laughing quietly. 'I'm glad you think it's funny,' Leo muttered. 'No, it's not that,' said Nick; but there was something hilarious in the shivers of pleasure that ran up his back and squeezed his neck, and ran down his arms to his fingers -- he felt he'd been switched on for the first time, gently gripping Leo's hips, and then reaching round him to help unbutton his shirt and get it off and hold his naked body against him. It was all so easy. He'd worried a lot the night before that there might be some awful knack to it --

'Mind that shirt," Leo said: 'it's my sister's.'

...




A lesson in masterful prose: the use of the long, rambling sentence, the interspersed dialogue, the unobtrusive flashback, the mix of erudite ('liberated bounce', 'sphincter') and blunt ('fucked', 'dick'). And gay. Not slashy. Definitely gay.

Quote from Alan Hollinghurst, The Line of Beauty, 2004

Comments

[brightest-blue.livejournal.com]

I've probably said this before in similar convos, but an adverb is as much a part of the language as any other kind of word. Its only its overuse that creates problems. And I get sick to death of the alternatives sometimes; the dashing, pelting, moaning, groaning, etc. don't necessarily enhance a description.

And your Line of Beauty quote: absolutely perfect. I wouldn't change a thing. *adds to reading list*

[lobelia321.livejournal.com]

I know that you agree on the values of the adverb! It just surprises me that actual coursebooks, incl. the one for the prestigious M.A. at UEA, still include such nonsensical advice.

And Line of Beauty is very morish. Do you know any of his other books? All very sexually frank, all very lusciously baroque and full of words unknown to me and that I love to look up. There's also always something very melancholy about them. This one is really good so far (am on p. 100) with a few flaws, it's true, but I will see how it continues.

[brightest-blue.livejournal.com]

I think that coursebooks are sometimes the very last to make changes. They're almost like dictionaries, in that it takes seismic cultural shifts to get the fusty old farts who put these things together to make any substantial changes. It seems to me that so much in academia is so very conservative and that there's a real hesitancy to advocate change for fear of being criticized.

And no, I haven't read ANY of Hollinghurst's books. But it sounds like I must. I adore baroque and luscious language and lots of words I don't know!

[calicokat.livejournal.com]

And really, running quickly can be different from pelting, dashing, racing, or rushing.

run - To move swiftly on foot so that both feet leave the ground during each stride.
pelt - A rapid pace: galloped away at a pelt.
dash - A sudden movement; a rush: made a dash for the exit.
race - To move rapidly or at top speed: We raced home. My heart was racing with fear.
rush - To move or act swiftly; hurry.

As we can see, none of these words mean the same thing, especially in the case of dash and rush which suggest abrupt or harried action, certainly not the case in all instances of running quickly.

The only one that is really directly synonymous with "run quickly" is "pelt," and even in the case of pelt, when I run quickly, sometimes I am not pelting anywhere, particularly if the mood of the passage is better served by me running quickly.

So I guess my response to that book is "Sure, it's great to broaden our mind to varying things up if we use ONLY adverbs, but don't try and demonize a perfectly good action. Every word in the English language has its own nuances and sometimes one is entirely preferable over another to a passage I am writing. It may even be 'runs quickly.'"

[lobelia321.livejournal.com]

Exactly! (Which, of course, is an adverb.)

No word in the English language can be taboo in fiction. It's absurd to make it so. As if these words were somehow dirty. They exist, and they exist for a good reason!

*pelts merrily off*

[cupiscent.livejournal.com]

As someone who recognises the weak use of adverbs in her own work, let me (once again - surprise! *G*) weigh into the blue corner, against you.

As with everything, moderation should be exercised in the removal of advebrs. The passage you've cited has somewhat unusual and thus thought-provoking adverbs. They haven't lost their oomph. Moreover, it uses adverbs in descriptive phrases that are in front of the thing they're describing. Bad use of adverbs has always seemed to me to be things like:
- she said hurriedly
- he walked jerkily
- she stretched sinuously

Whatever. Mind blank. But that sort of thing.

Getting a bit more technical as I wake up further - the examples you've cited are adverbs modifying adjectives, neh? Adverbs modifying verbs in most instances of less practised writers, are trite, cliche, cheap, and can be replaced by a stronger verb, or a more interesting, evocative phrase. (the words tripped over themselves getting out of her mouth, he walked like a combination of Frankenstein's monster and Cleese's ministry of silly walks, she undulated into a stretch...)

How am I doing?

In my own writing, the first draft is always slapdash and riddled with quick, shortcut adverbs. Which, in the second draft, I rework into actual prose. Sometimes still containing adverbs, but thoughtful ones.

[lobelia321.livejournal.com]

I just don't know why advice givers have glommed on to adverbs. In a bad!fic, the adverbs are misused but in a bad!fic the adjectives, nouns, verbs, pronouns, copulars and probably even the bloody articles are also misused.

Although I found your point about adverbs behind the thing they are modifying interesting. It also made me realise that in the passage I quote, Hollinghurst doesn't actually modify actual verbs; it's quite clever. Elsewhere in the book he does put adverbs in front of verbs.

But to get away from Literary Literature (which I know you hate, anyway) I scuttled on over to Lotr-rps yahoo group and picked a fic at random by typing in message #14750, expecting it to be bad! fic or at least mediocre!fic.

Here's an adverb-laden passage from fic 14750. I've highlighted adverbs.

Actually it was
pretty nice, he thought, as he looked at Sean, who was softly snoring against
his chest. He had really missed the other man and was glad he was back.

He liked the rest of the cast, especially the Hobbits and ... most of the
Elves, but it was only with Sean that he could truly relax. He was the only
one he truly trusted ...

I don't even think this is appalling; it's just fairly ho-hum. However, it's not fairly ho-hum because of the adverbs. Much more than any of the adverbs I was irritated by the use of the formulation the other man which always gets to me. Grr. The adverbs, I thought, were all rather aptly used:

The 'actually' was fine; didn't bother me.

The 'softly' also, while a bit blah, is fine; it would be just as blah as an adjective, and the 'snoring' by itself would be too bald and not convey what this author wants to say (which is that Sean is so cute and so soft and so lovely, blah-de-blah -- all things I wouldn't want to convey but if that's what you *want* to convey, then 'softly snoring' does the job, I would say).

The 'really': okay, maybe that could go but not *because* it's an adverb but because of its *meaning*.

The 'especially': well, I see no way of getting roiund that in this sentence construction. Also, I'm not bothered by this adverb.

The 'truly': okay, that is trite, and in particular as it is repeated. But it's the *thought* that is trite here, not the adverb.

Point being but adjectives and so forth in this passage are just as trite as adverbs.

pretty nice: Okay, technically, I suppose, the 'pretty' is here used adverbially (is it?) and the 'nice' is the adjective. Both are blah, as far as I'm concerned. 'Nice' is blah but that is *context*; I've read (and used!) the word nice, and it can pack a punch at the right moment.

was glad he was back: *yawns* (and not an adverb in sight)

Hm, now that I re-read: is only an adverb? It ends in -ly but so does 'doolally', and that's not an adverb. (Possibly not even a word...)

[cupiscent.livejournal.com]

Lobelia! I'm scandalised that you, of all people, could take such a rough-and-tumble approach to the definition of an adverb as to merely be going on the suffix.

*is scandalised*

*doesn't have the stamina for long-term scandal, and gets over it*

Anyway. Adverb is, of course, a word that modifies a verb or adjective. Not all adverbs end in -ly (best example being "well", as in "well fucked", speaking of cheap use of adverbs) and not all words ending in -ly are adverbs. "Only", like so many words, can be adjective or adverb depending on how it's used.

Enough comment space expended on that.

I really wish I could find some old drafts of, say, chapter three, which I remember was absolutely riddled with adverbs, so that I could use that as an example. Of course, if I kept all my old drafts my flat would be even more awash in paper than it already is.

So I'll speak in generalities. Adverbs aren't evil. They aren't the antichrist. They should not be removed knee-jerk book-burning style. They are frequently lazy words that should be carefully considered - more so, perhaps, than many other words - to ensure that they are useful and precise.

Also, adverbs can be signs of "telling". From website of Louise Cusack, who'll be my mentor for the next week, because that was the last place I remember seeing an exhortation to avoid adverbs:

"Writing "I hate you!" she said angrily, is the sign of a beginner writer. It patronises the reader. They can see from the dialogue that the character is angry. That has been shown. She said angrily rubs their noses in it by telling them as well."

Later on, she adds: "WATCH YOUR ADVERBS - have you used two words (or more) where one would do? Instead of 'ran quickly' you could write 'raced'. Check all words that end in an LY to see if you need them."

I wholeheartedly agree with that. Not just for adverbs, but for all descriptions. I hate being overwhelmed with description. Succinct is good. Multi-phrase description (of which I'm just as guilty as the next girl) is weak. Adverbs can frequently be replaced with something stronger.

That's all.

PS: I don't hate literary literature. I think all fiction should have better writing. I just have no respect for prose that goes nowhere and has no purpose beyond its own admiration. *G*

[lobelia321.livejournal.com]

I'm scandalised that you, of all people, could take such a rough-and-tumble approach to the definition of an adverb as to merely be going on the suffix.
Mwuahhaha! Oh dear. Irony gets lost on LJ sometimes.

I was, of course, referring to the inane advice of the advice-giver I was panning who said to consider deleting all words ending in "-ly". I immediately tried to think of words ending in "-ly" that are *not* adverbs but the only one that sprang to mind was "doolally". Oh, and now I'm remembering "rally" and "wally". "We were going to the political rally" -- oh no! Must delete!

Anyway, your sentence "I hate you," she said angrily. is, of course and I agree, a weak sentence. But (and let me harp on some more) it is not bad because of the adverb. Yes, it can be improved by deleting the adverg: "I hate you," she said. But it could also be improved by changing the adverb to a better adverb. E.g.: "I hate you," she said absent-mindedly." or, "I hate you," she said fondly.

See? That little adverb has the power to change the whole mood of the exchange!

[cupiscent.livejournal.com]

Oh good. I hoped and prayed for irony, but could not resist being scandalised anyway. It's so much fun. And good for the complexion, I hear. *G*

Those adverbs are better. Because they're not used lazily, they're used to evoke some sort of juxtaposition, they're making a point. I am all against lazy language, and all for interesting language.

Though, would the sentence not be even better if it was, say, "I hate you," she said, her attention still entirely on the screen. or "I hate you," she said with a fond smile.? Removal of the adverbs altogether.

Sometimes (as I was saying to my Male last night while he ignored my blather) adverbs work well as cheap words stripped of meaning. They are glossed over with the same not-really-reading regard that is given to a generic "he said". So, a "he said angrily" can be glossed over just as quick, the general meaning picked up, without making the reader pause for thought. However, that's a tool to be used with care and discretion, I think.

[lobelia321.livejournal.com]

Because they're not used lazily,
Adverb alert!

Why did you not write "because they're not used with a lazy smile"??

[childeproof.livejournal.com]

I'm hoping to get the new Hollinghurst for my birthday, because publishing friends have got me out of the habit of having to buy my own books. I adored The Swimming Pool Library in my teens, and had porny thoughts about a sex scene in which the main character gets screwed - in delighted detail - over the edge of a kitchen work surface, using vegetable oil. Oh happy memory.

Interested in your distinction between 'slashy' and 'definitely gay' here. Is this a distinction you have worked out previously with your accustomed thoroughness? That was meant as a compliment, incidentally, from someone who prances in the shallows...

[lobelia321.livejournal.com]

I've read all of Hollinghurst's books. The first two I read pre-slash and they were substitute slash: not knowing what I was hungering for, I read the next-best thing, namely gay porny literature. Also, I was sucked in by the luscious prose and the melancholy. Although I do also think he can go a bit OTT on that; he has a propensity to be twee.

I can't remember when I read the Spell, possibly post-slash. It's not as good as the others, but I liked it as research. Heh. This most recent one I do like, possibly the best of all of his so far. Although it does still suffer from the tweeness. But it's worth reading, and quite moreish.

Slashy vs gay? Not sure if I've posted a detailed thing on this but I've discussed it intermittently. Don't you think there *is* a distinction? I will post something, mayhap! :-)

To me, Hollinghurst is like a researchy glimpse into gay culture because he is very good at describing it, unflinchingly, unsentimentally. And there are things in his books that do not, simply do NOT figure in slash: e.g. campy queens; men cottaging and having sex after sex after sex with fly-by-night-partners; detailed and loving descriptions of foreskins, penises and sphincters; the very word 'sphincter'; love as a problematic and complicated thing. He's too tasteful to describe 'thrusting' (which, in my admittedly limited experience, features large in gay porn) but he does pay attention to 'size' (how many inches?). Slashers couldn't give a fuck about size or about any of those other things. They are romantics through and through and it's all about either the overwhelming love or the overwhelming angst. Gay culture features not at all or as a marginal glimpse in fanfic, as does coming out or secrecy due to societal pressures. Men in slash love men because they love those individuals; they can't help themselves. This is why I found Annie Proulx's Brokeback Mountain definitely slashy: two straight men who are overcome by this thing that is bigger than the both of them, their passionate love for each other. The love is transported through the sex. That is slash.

In gay writing, sex and love are separate. This is, I think, actually closer to how men operate. They're from Mars and all that. Slashers feminify the men. I write feminify because we don't feminise them; we like the manly. Well, not all of us do but the manliness of the manly is a big drawing point for many. But what we love about the manly is how it fights with itself to overcome its manliness and admit and submit to the power of lurv.

I may post this now. It seems to have outgrown its tigness. *g*