• entries
    213
  • comments
    4,005
  • views
    51,778

From: Some Effective Opening Paragraphs


william.scherk

324 views

I very much enjoyed the opening sentence from the new English edition of Il cimitero di Praga. I note that Wikipedia touts its sales "The book is a worldwide bestseller ... that sold millions of copies as of 2010." **Amazon gives a blurb that perhaps explains its appeal:

Nineteenth-century Europe—from Turin to Prague to Paris—abounds with the ghastly and the mysterious. Conspiracies rule history. Jesuits plot against Freemasons. Italian republicans strangle priests with their own intestines. French criminals plan bombings by day and celebrate Black Masses at night. Every nation has its own secret service, perpetrating forgeries, plots, and massacres. From the unification of Italy to the Paris Commune to the Dreyfus Affair to The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, Europe is in tumult and everyone needs a scapegoat. But what if, behind all of these conspiracies both real and imagined, lay one lone man? What if that evil genius created its most infamous document?

Now, Philip Coates does not find the opening sentence agreeable or effective. Chacun a son goût and all that ...

"A passerby on that gray morning in March 1897, crossing, at his own risk and peril, place Maubert, or the Maub, as it was known in criminal circles (formerly a center of university life in the Middle Ages, when students flocked there from the Faculty of Arts in Vicus Stramineus, or rue du Fouarre, and later a place of execution for apostles of free thought such as Étienne Dolet), would have found himself in one of the few spots in Paris spared from Baron Haussmann’s devastations, amid a tangle of malodorous alleys, sliced in two by the course of the Bièvre, which still emerged here, flowing out from the bowels of the metropolis, where it had long been confined, before emptying feverish, gasping and verminous into the nearby Seine. " -- Umberto Eco

I would classify this as very far from an "effective opening paragraph":

By the time you get to the verb you have lost the thread of the sentence.

-- please speak for yourself, Phil. By the time you got to the verb, you yourself may have been lost. Not me, not Ninth.

To my eyes, and speaking only for myself, the sentence does several things at once. It locates me the reader in place. It locates the reader to time. It gives a brief background to the place Maubert, salting the plain information with tidbits of a darker, violent history over the years:

  • Place Maubert is dangerous in 1897 ("risk and peril")
  • Place Maubert is in the 4th arrondisement.
  • Place Maubert has a slang reference: the Maub.
  • Place Maubert was once a Middle Ages centre of university life.
  • During medieval times, students flocked to the place from nearby faculties.
  • The faculty of Arts, for example, was found in the Roman-named Vicus Stramineus (in French Rue du Fouarre)
  • After the Middle Ages, place Maubert was the site of public executions for apostles of free thought such as Etienne Dolet.
  • Place Maubert is/was one of the few places in Paris that were not devastated by the urban schemes of Baron Hausmann under Napoleon III.

(more information is implied, of course, if one is familiar with the history of Paris)

Between "a passerby" and "would have found himself" there are at least six major modifying phrases.

True enough, if one needs to count such things ...

This "train wreck" of a long-winded, pretentious sentence continues with about eight more phrases adding further detail and each going in a different direction.

I differ in my analysis, as can be seen above and below. I also disagree in part that the sentence is a longwinded pretentious train wreck. Train wreck, no, pretentious, yes, but -- the but to signal that Eco may be riffing on conventions of 19th century literature (consider only Dickens extremely long introductory paragraphs); longwinded ... again, yes, but.

I counted 10 different concrete places Mr. Eco has named (some of them unnecessary and pedantic-seeming synonyms), as well as 3 different institutions or sociological phenomena (criminal circles, university life, the Faculty of Arts).

I counted place Maubert, the Faculty of Arts in Vicus Stramineus, a tangle of malodorous alleys, the course of the Bièvre, and the bowels of the metropolis. Just five for me ...

And then, just to multiply the units and overload the crow epistemology a bit more, 5 different persons (or groups).

1) a passerby crossing the place; 2) Baron Haussman; 3) Etienne Dolet; 4) Faculty of Arts; 5)

criminal circles ...

Not to mention that some of those referents are a bit muddy.

You have to stop in mid-sentence to think which of the synonyms "formerly a center of university life" refers to.

I agree that some of the references might escape first reading, especially if one knows nothing about the history of Paris, or if one is uninterested in the history of Paris. I believe it is indeed a rich (for some, over-rich) confection that pays dividends to the engaged reader (me).

Plus you're not quite sure if "rue du Fouare" is a third synonym for Place Maubert or Vicus Stramineus, nor are you sure which of the preceding "and later a place of execution" refers to.

I am quite sure, me, though you may not be, Phil. It is clear to me that place Maubert was a place of execution.

Rue du Fouarre is French for the latin Vicus Stramineus (vicus stramineus means, roughly, street of straw. In french, fouarre means 'straw' or "paille de toutes sortes de céréale, paille pour empailler les chaises" (chair-stuffing, straw of all kinds of cereal crops).

Mr. Eco further overloads us with crypticisms: "Baron Haussmann’s devastations". Who?

Georges-Eugène Haussmann. His 'devastations' are a result of the rebuilding of Paris in the mid/late 19th century, under Napoleon III. This is a famous reconstruction, or at least famous among those interested in the history of Paris, or more specifically urban planning ... See the Rebuilding of Paris for a brief overview, if interested.

What the hell is that highly abstract term 'devastation'? Murder? Robbery? Bad architecture?

Yes, you kind of have to know what Haussman is (in some circles) famous for.

Phil, if you become familiar with Haussman and his famous projects, you will understand that for many people, the meaning of the word is quite clear.

From a warren of Roman, medieval and other streets and alleys, Paris was transformed into the city we know today -- a city of grand boulevards. You can understand that clearing old warrens and ancient streetscapes required great destruction of the existing urban fabric. Moreover, once you know this, you understand that Eco is pointing to 'the Maub' as a neighbourhood that was not slashed through with boulevards and reconstruction. This ancient sector was unscathed in 1897, with all that this implies.

This feels like the pretentious writing style of an academic who wants to impress us with how smart he is and show ff all his knowledge on picky, minor points most of which (I suspect) will vanish not to reappear in the novel.

I understand your point of view, Philip, but I was ravished by the opening sentence. I hope you understand that some people (me) can take different things from this excerpt, without denigrating your reaction.

But we're not done with this very bad opening sentence:

If you are going to write in an unnecessarily long-winded style and throw a lot of names around, you at least ought to get the details of French capitalization right: It's "Place Maubert", not "place Maubert".

Phil, you are incorrect with regard to French capitalization conventions. See the French-language history of place Maubert and its present day Metro station. In French, there is no convention to capitalize place in this context.

And: "Emptying feverish, gasping and verminous into the nearby Seine" is just an attempt to impress us with a triple barrage of adjectives.

None of which are necessary unless this stream plays a role in the story.

I suspect that the Bièvre will indeed play a part in the story. You may not be aware, Phil, but the Bièvre springs at Versailles and emptied into the Seine in the area of Gare D'Austerlitz. Over the course of the centuries, and especially after the mid-19th century, the Bièvre was relentlessly confined, roofed-over, buried in conduits, re-routed into Paris sewers, and so on.

At the time of the story, however, there was still an flowing route of commerce, disposal, sewage, chemicals, and more ... in the neighbourhood of place Maubert at the time of the story, la Bièvre was very much a vital part of the neighbourhood. Here is a couple of pictures at Bievre.org:

img010.jpg

img002.jpg

img008.jpg

These show this urban stream as it was in late 19th century (in 1912 the urban reaches of the stream were put completely underground, though last year plans to resurrect la Bievre reached fruition).

Finally: "flowing out from the bowels of the metropolis, where it had long been confined"?

Yes, this was the last bit of the flow of the Bievre in central Paris that had not been covered and conduited. The bowels of Paris has a nice, redolent connotation, to my nose!

It's okay to be graphic or disgusting or to try to find a new way to say a river in polluted, but it's hard to see why this one more aside or tangent - in a sentence already groaning from being detail- and tangent-overloaded - is necessary.

I can understand your perspective, Phil. On first glance, the sentence can appear to be a grotesque overreach of authorial intentions. But for me at least, the sentence is alluring, enticing, promising of deep riches, historical detail, of Paris sewers, criminals, danger, catacombs, hidden rivers, intrique, death, conspiracy, etcetera!

I will post this also to my Friends and Foes blog here at OL. Hope you will respond there, Phil!

________________

** [this is from my last mention of The Name of the Rose) I was looking at the world's top best-selling books list at Wikipedia today, and was sobered to realize that Eco hit 50 million with Il Nome della Rosa and Rand did not rank at all. Link

3 Comments


Recommended Comments

As I mentioned to Phil privately by email, I admit to a great interest in urban planning, Paris ... and I am a fan of Umberto Eco. Full Disclosure. I wonder if George ever gets around to this kind of fiction?

Link to comment

Phil has answered my point about French Capitalization conventions, and also sharpened his criticism of Umberto Eco:

I'm always amused when a writer or artist (think Hemingway or James Joyce or Picasso) is lauded by all the critics and becomes really "big".

Then, in "emperor has no clothes" fashion, everybody gets intimidated, doubts their own perception, worries that maybe the famous Nobel or Pulitzer or Man Booker laureate is too 'deep' or 'profound' for them to appreciate, blame themselves when they don't follow some obscure allusions or irrelevant minutiae...and finds all kinds of excuses when the famous author puts out crap.

Like Umberto Eco's turgid, wheezing, coal-burning, smoke-belching, wheels locked, overloaded, screaming into a pile up train wreck of an opening sentence.

William, this is going to have to be short -- I'd really rather not further beat a single sentence to death.

Re your main points in post #41:

1. Yes I am correct about French capitalization conventions. I speak French, have traveled a number of times to Paris, and am quite familiar with their naming conventions. Just Google "Place Maubert" and you will see running down the page time after time Place Maubert not place Maubert. Another Parisian example is "Place Vendome". The convention is similar in the U.S. For example "Washington Square" not "Washington square". You capitalize both words.

2. You siad the sentence gives "a brief background to the place Maubert, salting the plain information with tidbits of a darker, violent history over the years".

But even if Place Maubert were going to be important in the novel (as well as all the other people and places mentioned), you simply don't try to pack all of the eight different facts you list into one sentence. That was why I referred to the crow epistemology. You could also read George Orwell on absurdly overloaded writing, or William Zinser, or any number of others.

3. "I counted 10 different concrete places Mr. Eco has named". "Just five for me". No, there were ten: You left out the synonyms, the Seine, Paris, etc.: At any rate, you missed my point: you don't need to pack that many concrete places into one sentence. It violates the crow, especially when combined with all the other 'clutter' I mentioned.

Would it kill the author to break it up into another sentence. Or six?

4. some people (me) can take different things from this excerpt...You may not be aware, Phil, but the Bievre springs at Versailles and emptied into the Seine in the area of Gare D'Austerlitz.

Both Victor Hugo (Hunchback of Notre Dame, Les Miserables) and Charles Dickens (Tale of Two Cities) have written wonderful novels in which the details, the texture, the history and layout of Paris are not only actually relevant but well-laid out. But they take their time to do it and insert it where it is natural.

I can't judge Eco or an entire novel by one run-on sentence. But the fact is that the opening of a novel is one of the most important parts to get right: First impressions matter. And the fact ND selected this train wreck as an 'effective' opener is less than promising.

Link to comment

William,

I had deleted this on the main thread shortly after posting it...I guess nothing is ever truly lost on the internet!! :

"I'm always amused when a writer or artist (think Hemingway or James Joyce or Picasso) is lauded by all the critics and becomes really "big".

Then, in "emperor has no clothes" fashion, everybody gets intimidated, doubts their own perception, worries that maybe the famous Nobel or Pulitzer or Man Booker laureate is too 'deep' or 'profound' for them to appreciate, blame themselves when they don't follow some obscure allusions or irrelevant minutiae...and finds all kinds of excuses when the famous author puts out crap.

Like Umberto Eco's turgid, wheezing, coal-burning, smoke-belching, wheels locked, overloaded, screaming into a pile up train wreck of an opening sentence."

While I like my polemical last sentence, I deleted the whole thing because I thought it was a tad too contemptuous and snarky....as if I had imbibed all the bad habits of Adam Selene, George H. Smith, Jeff R, ND and put them together.

Ha, ha, ha!

Link to comment

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now