This Is Me--2024 A to Z Theme

My A to Z Themes in the past have covered a range of topics and for 2025 the theme is a random assemblage of things that are on my mind--or that just pop into my mind. Whatever! Let's just say I'll be "Tossing It Out" for your entertainment or however it is you perceive these things.

Friday, December 7, 2012

When Is Profanity Necessary in Writing?

Cartoon of a person waving fist
Cartoon of a person waving fist (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
 Not in this House!

        In the early 1970's when I was still in college, my dad found a book that I had purchased at the University of Tennessee bookstore and being greatly offended by that book he promptly tore it to shreds, leaving the pieces strewn about our rec room so I would be sure to find them.  That book, The Anatomy of Dirty Words by Edward Sagarin, was a scholarly examination of the meanings, origins, and etymology of various words that are typically considered to be profane, obscene, or unacceptable.

         Profanity was necessary in this book because the words were the subject matter.  What I learned from the book in the short time I was able to access it is that dirty words are just words that in many cases had perfectly legitimate beginnings in English or another language and over time had become offensive in one way or another.  The words are only words, but the associations can arouse strong feelings in others.  The offense might stem from the way the words are spoken or in the context they are used.  They have become words that are intended to shock, embarrass, or anger others.

         I am probably a bit more open-minded than my father was, but I also went through that era of rebellion and radical change where profanity came more into common use in the arts, media, and everyday conversation.  Not that I approve of this usage.  I don't blush when I hear offensive language, but I don't encourage it either and rarely use it in my own speaking or writing.  Frankly, my dear reader, I don't think it's necessary in most cases.

Do You Want to Talk Dirty?

         In a recent Tossing It Out guest post,  Profanity: Where Do You Draw the Line?, Bridget Straub discussed how she approaches this issue in her writing and in her life.  The ensuing conversation in the comment section offered some interesting and radically different points of view.  As promised in those comments I am here with my thoughts on the use of offensive language in writing.

         I avoid most use of language that I deem offensive because I think there can be better ways of saying things.   Personally, I find profanity to be very distracting, often coming across as an author's attempt to be edgy, gritty, or "realistic".   But is this worth the possibility of losing a potential portion of a reading audience?  And is a larger sector of audience going to be gained because an author uses profanity.   To my thinking, excellent writing can convey grittiness and realistic characters in such a way that the fact there is no profanity would go unnoticed to the average reader.

          In my opinion the reader who is looking for obscenity in writing and titillated by it is puerile and unsophisticated.   They are not looking for literature, but just dirty writing.   Quality writing should not stoop to that level in hopes of better suiting it to modern tastes.   Writers who are trying to deliver that experience are not being especially creative or original.

Let's Look for the Nasty Parts

          An example from cinema that I always think of is the Oliver Stone Viet Nam film Platoon.  When I first saw this in the theater I was so distracted by the use of profanity in the film that this aspect was what I remembered most.  I disliked the film after that first viewing.  Some time later I saw the film again on television in a censored version where the most obscene things were the commercial breaks.  Without the distraction of profanity I was able to pay more attention to the characters and thematic elements of the story. I enjoyed the film much more in this second viewing.   I realized that the profanity had hindered in many ways and helped in virtually none.

        In literature I will cite Catcher in the Rye for two aspects of the use of profanity.  Firstly I was annoyed and offended by the ongoing using of the Lord's name in vain by Holden Caulfield.  There is some suggestion that Holden's casual use of "goddam" throughout the book helps establish his character, but I would argue that there are plenty of other things that the character says and does to show his rebellious and belligerent spirit.

         The second use of profanity in Catcher in the Rye is probably necessary because it is an integral part of the story and it is not used in a gratuitous way.  When Holden discovers the "Fuck You" graffiti scrawled on the walls he is shocked and angry because of the possibility of children seeing the words that are offensive even to him.  Since the theme of the book has to do with protecting the innocence of childhood, the shock of seeing the words symbolizes the loss of that innocence.   The argument that could be made as justification for Holden's use of profanity is that it illustrates the same kind of phoniness that he disdains in other people.  Profanity is in a sense central to the theme of the novel.

        However, in nearly every other case of profanity used in written work, that profanity is unneeded.  I will probably always shy away from the use of offensive language because I strongly feel that there are other ways to deal with what an author is trying to convey by using it.   I won't commit myself to this, but this is my intent as I see it now.

          How else can a writer depict bad people without using bad words?   Do you notice when obscene language is not used for characters who might use it in real life?   Do you miss the language when it's not there?   Would you like to hear offensive language used regularly in network television programming?  If so, why?


     
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Wednesday, December 5, 2012

#IWSG: Say what? (Did I Say That Out Loud?)



What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what 
was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do?” 
― Ralph EllisonInvisible Man

First Wed of Every Month       Do you have something to say when you write?  Or do you just tell a story and leave it at that?

       Stories can work on many levels aside from the obvious recounting of what happened and how that affected everybody.   Much, if not most, of the output of fiction writers is intended merely for entertainment.  How often do we read just to while away the time with a well told story?  At least we hope it's well told, or at the very least that it's a good story.   

        Most readers probably don't grab a fiction book off the shelf in hopes of learning something deep.  Being entertained often doesn't mean stretching one's mind very much.  Education is more for textbooks or something off the non-fiction bookshelves.  Some of it might be entertaining to some extent, but often the non-fiction just doesn't seem very fun.

         Then there is "literature" as in fancy-readin' English Lit kind of stuff.  They might call it literary fiction or "the Classics".   This is the kind of literature that is analyzed in college courses or by critics in high brow publications.   This type of literature is more than just stories.   The stories mean something besides just what happens from beginning to ending.  There are themes and symbolism.  The story represents something else entirely and is supposed to deliver a message, whether overt or cloaked.

         This leads me to consider whether I should be expressing my opinions, beliefs, and life philosophies in my fiction.  All writers do to some extent.   But what about when the philosophy or belief system of the author can lead to rejection--vehement in some instances--that can cause bad press or boycotting?  Should the author let inner feelings infuse the written output?   Is it a fiction author's place to teach or preach, or is the duty of that author merely to entertain?

 First Wednesday of the month means another edition of Alex J Cavanaugh's Insecure Writers Support Group.   You can discover more participants here.


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Sunday, December 2, 2012

Baby Bird (Ain't Lee Sweet!)





         Trisha from Word + Stuff decided to host her first ever blogfest--the Baby Faces Blogfest, and I'm joining in with a few of my baby pictures and some words to go with them.  This blogfest was irresistible for me.  Trish also has a bit of a contest going on.   For details on the contest and the list of other participants you can visit Trisha at her blog.


Baby Bobby Lee

      It just so happens that a couple years ago my mother sent me an album of my baby photos.  Finally I get to do something with them.   


        I was born at 1:52 AM on January 30, 1951.   According to my mother, the postpartum recovery period at that time was nine days.   During that period, my mother developed a serious blood clot in her leg which led to an extended hospital stay.   For this reason I became a star among the nurses who cared for me.   They called me "King of the Nursery".  Thus began my delusions of grandeur.


          The first thing that strikes me about this photo besides my mother looking so young (she's about 21 in this picture) is her long hair.  I don't remember her wearing her hair like this.  She must have gotten it cut when I was still a baby.   She's always worn her hair short as far back as I can remember.  The other thing that catches my attention are the old furnishings and draperies.  I don't know exactly where this photo was taken--probably their apartment in Cleveland, Ohio--but I think it looks so cool, so antique.


          This was always one of my favorite baby pictures.   My dad worked all day so he probably didn't relish having to wake up in the middle of the night to take care of me.  But, after all, I had been King of the Nursery and I still demanded attention.   I'm so glad that my mom captured this gem of a picture.  It shows me a gentle caring side of my dad.


         Not sure what I was crying about, but it wasn't because I dropped my juggling clubs in the middle of my act.  I didn't learn to juggle until I was at least ten years old.  I loved looking at and playing with my father's juggling props.  He must have been practicing in the living room when this picture was taken.  I never tired of watching my parents juggle and entertain.   When my father would get home from work, he'd eat dinner and then practice juggling.   Usually they only performed their act on week-ends.   Sometimes they'd take me along, but usually if they were playing a nightclub they'd leave me with a baby sitter.

       Here the happy couple poses with their first-born child--me.   There were four more children that came over the following ten years.   This photo reminds me of a happy moment in a film-noir B-movie.   I guess that's because I like those kinds of movies and this is about as close as I come to being in one.  

        I hope you enjoyed this little slice of my life.   I enjoy looking back on those times that seem so long ago.  If I had a time machine I'd love to go back to see what the early 50's were like since I don't remember them all that well.  At least I have some wonderful photos to take me back to a simpler day.

         Now let's see some more babies at the Baby Faces Blogfest.