t in their sound; and
yet, though the difference may be heard at once, it seems inexplicable
by the intellect.
But by far the greatest number of stylistic words owe their
connotation not so much to their sound alone, as to their capacity for
evoking memories. They awake the psychologic process of association.
Such are the words which lie close to the heart of every one's
experience,--words like "home," "sorrow," "mother," "youth," and
"friends." Whenever such a word is used, it conveys to the reader or
the listener not only the specific meaning intended by the momentary
context, but also a subsidiary and subconscious recollection of many
phases of his personal experience. All of the indisputably magic words
possess this associative or _memorable_ quality. Saying one thing
definitely, they evoke a concordant harmony of subconscious and
shadowy suggestion. Expressing a message in the present, they recall
remembered beauty from the past. Thus it is with the words of those
two enchanted lines of Keats,--
"Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn."
They say much more than what they say. Conveying one meaning to the
reader, they remind him of many, many others.
But the choice of suggestive and memorable words is only the first
step toward mastery of style. The perfect marriage of significance and
sound is dependent not so much upon the words themselves as upon the
way in which they are arranged. The art of style, like every other
art, proceeds by an initial selection of materials and a subsequent
arrangement of them in accordance with a pattern. In style, the
pattern is of prime importance; and therefore, in order to understand
the witchery of writing, we must next consider technically the
patterning of words.
This phase of the subject has been clearly expounded and deftly
illustrated by Robert Louis Stevenson in his essay "On Some Technical
Elements of Style in Literature,"[9] This essay is, so far as I know,
the only existing treatise on the technic of style which is of any
practical value to the incipient artist. It should therefore be read
many times and mastered thoroughly by every student of the mystery of
writing. Since it is now easily accessible, it will not be necessary
here to do more than summarize its leading points,--stating them in a
slightly different way in order that they may better fit the present
context.
[Footnote 9: First published in the _C
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