Saturday, August 1: Mississippi Mud
DON’T READ PAGE 80
by John M. Floyd
I’d like to open with a question (actually, several questions). Do you agree with the use of profanity in short stories and novels? Do you object to it? Do you find it distracting? Do you think it’s sometimes necessary, depending on the scene or situation? Does it bother you only if it’s excessive?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not on a crusade here. I’ve often mentioned how much I enjoy the work of Stephen King, Elmore Leonard, and others who pull no punches when it comes to using rough language in novels and stories. This applies to the screen as well — I love movies like “Pulp Fiction,” “Reservoir Dogs,” and “The Departed.” (If my grandmother were still alive, I’m pretty sure the language used in any one episode of the HBO series “Deadwood” — another of my favorites — would do her in.)
I also believe, though, that those same books and films would have been effective even without rampant foul language, and I admit I try to avoid using it in my own stories. I just honestly don’t think it’s needed. I know, I know, I’ve heard all the arguments in favor of it: If you’re writing about prison inmates or combat troops or members of a street gang, you want to be realistic, and the dialogue should ring true. I understand that, at least to some degree. But my take on it is, intelligent readers already know the way these people talk. Just as I, as a writer, have never felt the need to describe in infinite detail the appearance of my characters, I also don’t feel I need to provide the reader with every single profanity my characters might use. I realize that when my bank robber sprints into the street with the loot in one hand and his gun in the other and finds the getaway car gone, he won’t say, “Well, darn” — in fact I have a pretty good idea what he would say. (They’re probably the same words I’d use myself, if that happened to me.) The thing is, the reader knows that too. I don’t think you have to spell it out.
More and more, I have come to agree with Jerry Seinfeld, who once said profanity is sometimes a crutch used by lazy writers, and that if your work is good enough you don’t need it. To my knowledge, John Grisham has never used strong language in his novels (I’ve read them all), and whatever you might think of his level of talent, no one can deny his level of success. The same is true of Dick Francis, Tony Hillerman, and others. And we’re not talking about cheerful, lighthearted subject matter here — many of Grisham’s characters are the vilest of the vile. (Notice that I didn’t actually say that many of his characters are lawyers, so if you thought that, blame yourself and not me.)
One other point. I was a little concerned, when my first book of short fiction was accepted for publication, that the publisher would want me to spice up the language a bit — after all, these are stories about crime and deception and mayhem. Instead, he agreed to keep the content at least somewhat family-friendly, and since that seemed to work, we followed the same plan with the second book.
I should mention, however, that the reason wasn’t that we were trying to be pious or noble. The reason was that he (and I too) wanted the books to appeal to the widest possible range of readers. I’d like my stories to be enjoyable to everyone from pulpwood haulers to investment bankers, and when seventy-year-old Bessie Lou Sweet buys one of my books and reads it and tells the members of her sewing circle or Bible-study group about it, I’d like for them to want to buy and read it too.
I should remind you here that I’m referring mostly to offensive language. I’m not quite as picky about other controversial subjects. My stories don’t feature a lot of guts and gore or steamy sex, but since they are mystery/crime/suspense fiction they are sometimes violent, and I don’t hesitate to poison or stab or suffocate folks occasionally. Is it wrong, or at least inconsistent, that Sister Mary Agnes — who would never utter an obscene word or think lewd thoughts about Father O’Malley — would, if she had to, skewer an attacker with a pitchfork? Maybe so. Maybe my values are a little warped. To each his own.
A few years ago I published a poem in Byline Magazine called “Fair Warning.” If you have ever written something a bit off-color, you might be able to relate to this:
When Katie’s first novel was done,
She sent it to her Grandma Munn;
“Enjoy it,” said Katie,
“But don’t read page 80,
130, or 251.”
“Do you agree with the use of profanity in short stories and novels? Do you object to it? Do you find it distracting?”
I disagree with its use. And yes, I tend to object to it. It has its place, but using it in a general story (one not written for a specific market) limits the number of markets that will consider it. And yes, there are venues that “require” it, like prison or combat, but I have also read stories set in such settings that were great reads without resorting to rampant obscenities.
“Is it distracting?”
It can be–I’ve been in too many critique or slush pile sessions in which a story in question was littered with obscenities to the point of there being at least one in every single piece of dialogue. It’s one thing when the hero, after 15 pages, utters a sharp curse. That has emphasis, often powerful and direct. But when that single sharp curse has appeared 62 times before we see it in in the big scene p15, then it has no power whatsoever.
But that may just be me…
I use it depending on the market but still sparingly. I got a chuckle recently when a member of my critique group asked if I’d sold my soul to the devil because my story was so nasty. Looking over the story in question, I realized there wasn’t a curse word or a drop of blood spilled – it was all in his mind. That made me realize that you can scare the crap out of someone without being graphic.
Great post, John!
I could use a full column to answer your question, John. I have heard it all and probably said it all, but I don’t like to read it. Two points:
1. When the Dillinger gang took a couple of hostages, one of them a female, in their getaway car after a bank robbery Charlie Makley said hell or damn, I forget which. Harry Pierpont, as tough a man as they come, said, “Watch your language, Charlie, there’s a lady present.”
2. I was an infantry rifleman in the invasion of Normandy and subsequent campaigns. There were men who never swore, but most of us did. Not as much as is heard in some Hollywood versions of combat. During training there had been much more of it. In combat men tend to be quiet. It’s one way to stay alive. Men don’t shout and yell as they do in movies. Why make a target of yourself?
The best combat stories I have read were written by Germans and translated – Erich Maria Remarque, Willi Heinrich, Hans Helmut Kirsh. Swearing was kept to a minimum.
To me, trying to sound tough or “realistic” is distracting and annoying so I don’t read the stuff written by those who use it profusely. If it can’t be read and enjoyed by Bessie Lou Sweet the writer failed to do his job, at least in my opinion. I agree with Seinfeld. It also eliminates the shock effect provided by an occasional oath. Much of it isn’t realistic because there is no such animal as realist dialogue.
One final point: I wrote a short story called “The Old School Yell” that centered on a cheer given by boys, not girls, at high school football games where I lived. The yell was full of words not uttered in polite society. I’ve been a bit embarrassed when certain people have read the story even though there wouldn’t have been a story without those words.
Now about those lawyers . . .
Anything distracts me while reading if “it” is out of context of the character(s). I have proof read many “romances” and reported I found some of the particular descriptive language too out there and the author was trying too hard to be hard core rather than erotic. There’s a difference. Maybe it’s because I have only heard guys refer to specific areas of interest in guttaral language!!
Aside from reading/writing, I’m the same way with movies. Pulp Fiction would have been ridiculous without all the language. The lives of two hitmen were followed through ring vignettes as though it were me and a co-worker doing a day’s job.
If the two hadn’t been as they were in all their gross language and behavior I wouldn’t have enjoyed the movie. When the guy’s head was shot off in the backseat, they acted and reacted as though my co-worker spilled coffee in my brand new car. I laughed so much and kinda quieted down when I realized no one else in the theatre drew that analogy.
Serpico and Scarface on the other hand threw the F-Bomb just to throw it. I barely know what happened in the show because I wanted to stand up and scream the F-Bomb for them to shut it up!
Whatever.
Enjoyed your article. I find it harder to use downright foulness while writing because I don’t feel comfortable, though I can read it.
I prefer to use the senses and drag the reader through the process and hopefully insight the same response rather than just saying something outright.
Pulp Fiction would have been ridiculous without all the language.
I thought it was ridiculous with the language. But then, I loathe Tarantino and his entire ultra-hip self-conscious insider-film-gag mental-masturbatory milieu with a deep abiding loathing. About the least offensive thing about “Pulp Fiction” was the cursing — the profanity was so prevalent that it had almost no impact whatsoever.
This is an interesting subject to me because I can see both sides of the argument. I truly don’t use much profanity in my stories, for the reason I gave: I just don’t think it’s needed. On the other hand, I think “The Sopranos” contained some of the finest acting and directing and writing that I’ve ever seen, and the language was terrible.
Maybe something alisa mentioned is true of me also: I’m not comfortable using profanity in my own writing but sometimes it doesn’t bother me that much in the work of others. Other times, though, reading it can be so distracting and annoying I actually lose interest in the story. Who knows, maybe that’s when it crosses the line and becomes lazy writing.
So, JLW, I won’t tell you Tarantino has a new one coming out…Inglorious Bastards. Forgive the B word.
As for Sopranos I watched that show waiting for Tony to get his. As good as that series was, they copped out in the end.
To each his/her own. Right?
I agree with the use of profanity in fiction, so long as it’s realistic, in context, and not just included purely for fashion.
JLW – Tell us how you really feel!
I have a friend who says she feels assaulted when someone swears in per presence, especially at her. She points out that we call these words “curses” for a reason.
Another friend worked in a home for troubled youth/juvenile offenders/you get the idea. The home had a rule against bad language which he was inclined to let slide but he quickly found that if bad language were allowed violence increased.
How this applies to literature, I dunno. I do know that it offends me more in movies than books.
Dick, about soldier’s swearing… my father’s mentor served directly under your idol (ha ha) George Patton during WWII. When the movie PATTON came out my father was shocked and asked his friend if the movie’s reflection of Patton’s language was accurate.
“Oh no,” said COlonel Bullis. “He was MUCH worse.”
JLW — Does this mean you don’t want the two “Kill Bill” DVDs I was about to send you???
By the way, it is good to have you back, and be aware that Leigh did a great job of riding herd over this crew while you were away.
Hi John,
As a reader, I am a prude regarding language as well as gratuitous sex and violence. (See my review of Uncage Me over at Women of Mystery on August 2nd.)
So, as writer, I strive to get the point across without being graphic. I wouldn’t have some big tough gangster say, “Oh, drat” and sound like a wuss. I would make him menacing through actions and through language that does not involve swear words.
I think we each have our own comfort level, and although I try to stretch my own limits in terms of what I write, I am not interested in stretching my prose into the realm of four letter words.
Terrie
Interesting article.
Profanity is never REALLY needed, in fiction or in real life. However, I think in fiction it fulfills a certain function. If used intelligently, it gives the reader the slightly unsettling sense that ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN HERE. After all, if the writer doesn’t pull any punches in that regard, who knows what he might do next (to his characters)? Of course, the writer always runs the risk of turning off a few readers, but he probably figures those aren’t people who are likely to “get” his work anyway.
BTW, I am a big fan of Tarantino.
John, forgot to say I love your poem.
The only question in using any word, profane or otherwise, is whether it accomplishes the purpose it needs to fulfill.
Consider comedy. Without going into a debate on blue humor v. clean humor or bringing up Bill Cosby’s advice to Eddie Murphy, the use of profanity in humor illustrates the point. We have all observed sad little idiots who laugh whenever a curse word is used, as if foul language itself were somehow inherently clever. Pathetic.
On the other hand, I can think of several very funny jokes and routines where foul language is essential to the humor. The governing criterion is not that the words be profane — it’s that they be funny in context.
Likewise, the application of profanity in fiction depends entirely on the required effect. Nothing in a well-crafted piece of writing should be gratuitous.
alisa, I live in L.A. Thanks for the thought, but you don’t need to fill me in on the latest buzz on Tarantino — here, he is as inescapable as She Who Must Not Be Named.
You’re just slightly off track about his new movie (starring Brad Pitt, a circumstance regarding which I shall maintain a discreet silence) being called “Inglorious Bastards”, though: the title is “Inglorious Basterds”, the second word deliberately misspelled, which adorable wit I think supports my point regarding Our Quentin’s cutesy à la mode self-indulgence.
I agree with above comments and I especially admire the limerick!
Thanks to all of you for your kind words and your insight. JLW, your comment reminded me of the fact that I always laugh my head off at Chris Rock’s stand-up routines and then find myself feeling a little guilty about it.
As for Tarantino, folks seem to either love him or hate him. I’ve heard him compared to a mischievous kid who never really grew up — but that can also describe many a writer of suspense fiction.
JLW, the movie is actually called INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS (both words misspelled). I guess whatever Tarantino does, he does it all the way . . . which is one of the reasons I love his movies!
Of course, there is no arguing taste, and nothing I can say will make somebody dislike something they like — you might as well argue about the taste of chocolate as over film. But there’s the rub.
I think that bad taste defines Q.T.’s entire aesthetic approach, although I must admit that he’s slightly more clever than the abominable Kevin Smith; certainly he’s a more successful plagiarist. But going all the way with bad taste is still going all the way. Dangerous fanatics also go all the way. It doesn’t make them lovable.
I’m not saying I love EVERYTHING QT does (in fact, I haven’t seen everything he’s done), but RESERVOIR DOGS, PULP FICTION, JACKIE BROWN, and DEATH PROOF are very good movies, entertaining and well-made to say the least. I don’t really know what you mean by “bad taste.” Are you referring to any specific scenes? Or are you talking about the offensive language and violence in general?
That said, I understand that his movies are not to everyone’s taste. But that stands to reason. I, for example, don’t like cheesy love stories (à la THE NOTEBOOK), but that doesn’t necessarily mean they are bad movies.
I don’t really know what you mean by “bad taste.”
Duke Ellington was once asked to define rhythm. His response was, “If you got it, you don’t need no definition. And if you don’t have it, ain’t no definition gonna help.” (Oddly expressed, I might add, since Ellington was an extremely articulate man.)
I realize that this is something of a cop-out, along the lines of Justice Stewart’s famous description of pornography: “I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description; and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it … ”
But cop-out or not, I don’t know where else to begin, and if you can’t see where “Pulp Fiction” and “Kill Bill” cross the line, I don’t know where to draw the line for you. But just as an example off the top of my head, do you honestly think that having Vincent (the John Travolta character in “Pulp Fiction”) shot to death while using the toilet is in good taste? Nothing about that strike you as the least bit childish?
Compare and contrast with a similar scene in “Unforgiven”, a movie I admire. In the latter, the self-styled “Schofield Kid” shoots a man in an outhouse in an effort to prove to himself and his companions that he’s just as ruthless as they are. The scene is gut-wrenching, the murder of a defenseless man that has far-reaching consequences. In “P.F.”, it’s scatological humor, like the equally puerile scene in “Jurassic Park” where the scumbag lawyer is sitting on the throne when he gets devoured by a T. Rex. Oh, grow up.
I would differ from your opinion on movies like “The Notebook”, which I haven’t seen and have no intention of seeing, only to observe that it probably is a bad movie, since sentimental manipulation is always a cheap alternative to genuine emotion, and also because I can’t imagine the word “cheesy” accurately applying to anything with merit.
JLW—Quentin Tarantino is a life-long movie buff and a walking movie encyclopedia, so literally EVERYTHING he does has a meaning or is a reference to another movie, the bathroom scene included. Check out this site to see how many references there are in this movie alone (I would say well over a hundred).
So it’s not just mindless scatological fun he’s having there at the unsuspecting audience’s expense.
http://www.tarantino.info/wiki/index.php/Pulp_Fiction_Movie_References_Guide
Now, of course, having as many movie references as you can possibly count doesn’t make a movie great, but when I look at the finished product (an original gangster movie told in a unique non-linear style, with unforgettable dialogues and scenes and characters), I cannot help but love and admire QT for his sheer audacity. And, based on his success, I am evidently not the only one who thinks so.
But again, there’s no accounting for taste. What you and I find cheesy (like those Nicholas Sparks-based love stories) might make teenage girls and housewives swoon. What I find original and innovative and hip might offend you. And what you find great and interesting and fun might not be my cup of tea.
Quentin Tarantino is a life-long movie buff and a walking movie encyclopedia, so literally EVERYTHING he does has a meaning or is a reference to another movie …
Which I find one of his most irritating and self-congratulatory characteristics, an ostentatious display of false erudition that acts as a substitute for creativity. Allusion is a useful and powerful literary device, one I consistently apply myself in almost everything I write, but obsessive imitation presented as wit is something else — hence my reference to Kevin Smith, who plays exactly the same trick. But as you say, chacun à son goût.
I dunno….Elvis fell off the pot in real life and died while perusing a spiritual book. Who could’ve made that up?
As for taste, I eat chocolate during any movie.
I totally agree with YT concerning QT’s clever ability to create and string an audience along in an (I’ll admit) unusual manner. He certainly doesn’t present something that doesn’t not have to be remembered from scene to scene, story to story, because the end (no pun on John getting shot on the john) it ties together.
I think QT does step over lines. I’m willing to step with him for a couple of hours. Some scenes in PF and RD did make me uncomfortable. However, they were pertinent to the “whole story.” (Those are my two favorites.)
I go because I suppose I’m a glutton for punishment as I am in my favorite authors. I have to see/read.
You say bad taste. I say good entertainment and I’m sorry but QT makes me laugh at or during the most awful scenes and yes, I wonder why I thought it funny (especially when I am the only one laughing).
I guess that makes me a sick puppy, but I enjoy his creative drawing of a story.
I also liked Unforgiven. Clint Eastwood has the ability to take a subject matter and bring one to face it no matter how you feel…..the two war movies…one pro….one con….he drew the controversies to the screen to be faced. Gran Torino was amazing. Did the same thing.
I need chocolate.
Hey, it says something about QT that he and his movies can generate this kind of discussion. Again, everyone seems to like him or hate him, no middle ground. I must say, I’m looking forward to “Inglorious Basterds.” Just shoot me . . .
And I agree, alisa, with your comments about “Unforgiven,” “Gran Torino,” the twin WWII movies, etc. Who would’ve thought Eastwood would become such an accomplished director?
Excuse me, I have to get back to updating my Netflix queue.