HOW TO WRITE A BLACKWOOD ARTICLE.
In the name of the Prophet--figs!!
Cry of the Turkish fig-peddler.
I PRESUME everybody has heard of me. My name is the Signora PsycheZenobia. This I know to be a fact. Nobody but my enemies ever calls meSuky Snobbs. I have been assured that Suky is but a vulgar corruptionof Psyche, which is good Greek, and means the soul (that's me, I'mall soul) and sometimes a butterfly, which latter meaning undoubtedlyalludes to my appearance in my new crimson satin dress, with thesky-blue Arabian mantelet, and the trimmings of green agraffas, and theseven flounces of orange-colored auriculas. As for Snobbs--any personwho should look at me would be instantly aware that my name wasn'tSnobbs. Miss Tabitha Turnip propagated that report through sheer envy.Tabitha Turnip indeed! Oh the little wretch! But what can we expect froma turnip? Wonder if she remembers the old adage about blood out of aturnip, &c.? [Mem. put her in mind of it the first opportunity.] [Mem.again--pull her nose.] Where was I? Ah! I have been assured that Snobbsis a mere corruption of Zenobia, and that Zenobia was a queen--(So amI. Dr. Moneypenny always calls me the Queen of the Hearts)--and thatZenobia, as well as Psyche, is good Greek, and that my father was aGreek, and that consequently I have a right to our patronymic, which isZenobia and not by any means Snobbs. Nobody but Tabitha Turnip calls meSuky Snobbs. I am the Signora Psyche Zenobia.
As I said before, everybody has heard of me. I am that very SignoraPsyche Zenobia, so justly celebrated as corresponding secretary to thePhiladelphia, Regular, Exchange, Tea, Total, Young, Belles, Lettres,Universal, Experimental, Bibliographical, Association, To, Civilize,Humanity. Dr. Moneypenny made the title for us, and says he chose itbecause it sounded big like an empty rum-puncheon. (A vulgar man thatsometimes--but he's deep.) We all sign the initials of the society afterour names, in the fashion of the R. S. A., Royal Society of Arts--theS. D. U. K., Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, &c, &c. Dr.Moneypenny says that S. stands for stale, and that D. U. K. spells duck,(but it don't,) that S. D. U. K. stands for Stale Duck and not for LordBrougham's society--but then Dr. Moneypenny is such a queer man that Iam never sure when he is telling me the truth. At any rate we alwaysadd to our names the initials P. R. E. T. T. Y. B. L. U. E. B. A. T. C.H.--that is to say, Philadelphia, Regular, Exchange, Tea, Total, Young,Belles, Lettres, Universal, Experimental, Bibliographical, Association,To, Civilize, Humanity--one letter for each word, which is a decidedimprovement upon Lord Brougham. Dr. Moneypenny will have it that ourinitials give our true character--but for my life I can't see what hemeans.
Notwithstanding the good offices of the Doctor, and the strenuousexertions of the association to get itself into notice, it met with novery great success until I joined it. The truth is, the members indulgedin too flippant a tone of discussion. The papers read every Saturdayevening were characterized less by depth than buffoonery. They wereall whipped syllabub. There was no investigation of first causes, firstprinciples. There was no investigation of any thing at all. There wasno attention paid to that great point, the fitness of things. Inshort there was no fine writing like this. It was all low--very! Noprofundity, no reading, no metaphysics--nothing which the learned callspirituality, and which the unlearned choose to stigmatize as cant. [Dr.M. says I ought to spell cant with a capital K--but I know better.]
When I joined the society it was my endeavor to introduce a betterstyle of thinking and writing, and all the world knows how well I havesucceeded. We get up as good papers now in the P. R. E. T. T. Y. B.L. U. E. B. A. T. C. H. as any to be found even in Blackwood. I say,Blackwood, because I have been assured that the finest writing,upon every subject, is to be discovered in the pages of that justlycelebrated Magazine. We now take it for our model upon all themes, andare getting into rapid notice accordingly. And, after all, it's not sovery difficult a matter to compose an article of the genuine Blackwoodstamp, if one only goes properly about it. Of course I don't speak ofthe political articles. Everybody knows how they are managed, since Dr.Moneypenny explained it. Mr. Blackwood has a pair of tailor's-shears,and three apprentices who stand by him for orders. One hands him theTimes, another the Examiner and a third a Culley's New Compendiumof Slang-Whang. Mr. B. merely cuts out and intersperses. It is soondone--nothing but Examiner, Slang-Whang, and Times--then Times,Slang-Whang, and Examiner--and then Times, Examiner, andSlang-Whang.
But the chief merit of the Magazine lies in its miscellaneous articles;and the best of these come under the head of what Dr. Moneypenny callsthe bizarreries (whatever that may mean) and what everybody else callsthe intensities. This is a species of writing which I have long knownhow to appreciate, although it is only since my late visit to Mr.Blackwood (deputed by the society) that I have been made aware of theexact method of composition. This method is very simple, but not so muchso as the politics. Upon my calling at Mr. B.'s, and making known to himthe wishes of the society, he received me with great civility, took meinto his study, and gave me a clear explanation of the whole process.
My dear madam, said he, evidently struck with my majestic appearance,for I had on the crimson satin, with the green agraffas, andorange-colored auriclas. My dear madam, said he, sit down. The matterstands thus: In the first place your writer of intensities must havevery black ink, and a very big pen, with a very blunt nib. And, markme, Miss Psyche Zenobia! he continued, after a pause, with themost expressive energy and solemnity of manner, mark me!--thatpen--must--never be mended! Herein, madam, lies the secret, the soul, ofintensity. I assume upon myself to say, that no individual, of howevergreat genius ever wrote with a good pen--understand me,--a good article.You may take, it for granted, that when manuscript can be read it isnever worth reading. This is a leading principle in our faith, to whichif you cannot readily assent, our conference is at an end.
He paused. But, of course, as I had no wish to put an end to theconference, I assented to a proposition so very obvious, and one,too, of whose truth I had all along been sufficiently aware. He seemedpleased, and went on with his instructions.
It may appear invidious in me, Miss Psyche Zenobia, to refer you to anyarticle, or set of articles, in the way of model or study, yet perhapsI may as well call your attention to a few cases. Let me see. Therewas 'The Dead Alive,' a capital thing!--the record of a gentleman'ssensations when entombed before the breath was out of his body--full oftastes, terror, sentiment, metaphysics, and erudition. You would havesworn that the writer had been born and brought up in a coffin. Thenwe had the 'Confessions of an Opium-eater'--fine, very fine!--gloriousimagination--deep philosophy acute speculation--plenty of fire and fury,and a good spicing of the decidedly unintelligible. That was a nice bitof flummery, and went down the throats of the people delightfully.They would have it that Coleridge wrote the paper--but not so. It wascomposed by my pet baboon, Juniper, over a rummer of Hollands and water,'hot, without sugar.' [This I could scarcely have believed had it beenanybody but Mr. Blackwood, who assured me of it.] Then there was 'TheInvoluntary Experimentalist,' all about a gentleman who got baked in anoven, and came out alive and well, although certainly done to a turn.And then there was 'The Diary of a Late Physician,' where the merit layin good rant, and indifferent Greek--both of them taking things withthe public. And then there was 'The Man in the Bell,' a paper by-the-by,Miss Zenobia, which I cannot sufficiently recommend to your attention.It is the history of a young person who goes to sleep under the clapperof a church bell, and is awakened by its tolling for a funeral. Thesound drives him mad, and, accordingly, pulling out his tablets, hegives a record of his sensations. Sensations are the great things afterall. Should you ever be drowned or hung, be sure and make a note of yoursensations--they will be worth to you ten guineas a sheet. If youwish to write forcibly, Miss Zenobia, pay minute attention to thesensations.
That I certainly will, Mr. Blackwood, said I.
Good! he replied. I see you are a pupil after my own heart. But Imust put you au fait to the details necessary in composing what may bedenominated a genuine Blackwood article of the sensation stamp--thekind which you will understand me to say I consider the best for allpurposes.
The first thing requisite is to get yourself into such a scrape as noone ever got into before. The oven, for instance,--that was a goodhit. But if you have no oven or big bell, at hand, and if you cannotconveniently tumble out of a balloon, or be swallowed up in anearthquake, or get stuck fast in a chimney, you will have to becontented with simply imagining some similar misadventure. I shouldprefer, however, that you have the actual fact to bear you out. Nothingso well assists the fancy, as an experimental knowledge of the matterin hand. 'Truth is strange,' you know, 'stranger than fiction'--besidesbeing more to the purpose.
Here I assured him I had an excellent pair of garters, and would go andhang myself forthwith.
Good! he replied, do so;--although hanging is somewhat hacknied.Perhaps you might do better. Take a dose of Brandreth's pills, and thengive us your sensations. However, my instructions will apply equallywell to any variety of misadventure, and in your way home you may easilyget knocked in the head, or run over by an omnibus, or bitten by a maddog, or drowned in a gutter. But to proceed.
Having determined upon your subject, you must next consider the tone,or manner, of your narration. There is the tone didactic, the toneenthusiastic, the tone natural--all common--place enough. But then thereis the tone laconic, or curt, which has lately come much into use. Itconsists in short sentences. Somehow thus: Can't be too brief. Can't betoo snappish. Always a full stop. And never a paragraph.
Then there is the tone elevated, diffusive, and interjectional. Someof our best novelists patronize this tone. The words must be all in awhirl, like a humming-top, and make a noise very similar, which answersremarkably well instead of meaning. This is the best of all possiblestyles where the writer is in too great a hurry to think.
The tone metaphysical is also a good one. If you know any big wordsthis is your chance for them. Talk of the Ionic and Eleatic schools--ofArchytas, Gorgias, and Alcmaeon. Say something about objectivity andsubjectivity. Be sure and abuse a man named Locke. Turn up your nose atthings in general, and when you let slip any thing a little too absurd,you need not be at the trouble of scratching it out, but just adda footnote and say that you are indebted for the above profoundobservation to the 'Kritik der reinem Vernunft,' or to the 'MetaphysitheAnfongsgrunde der Noturwissenchaft.' This would look eruditeand--and--and frank.
There are various other tones of equal celebrity, but I shall mentiononly two more--the tone transcendental and the tone heterogeneous. Inthe former the merit consists in seeing into the nature of affairs avery great deal farther than anybody else. This second sight is veryefficient when properly managed. A little reading of the 'Dial' willcarry you a great way. Eschew, in this case, big words; get them assmall as possible, and write them upside down. Look over Channing'spoems and quote what he says about a 'fat little man with a delusiveshow of Can.' Put in something about the Supernal Oneness. Don't saya syllable about the Infernal Twoness. Above all, study innuendo. Hinteverything--assert nothing. If you feel inclined to say 'bread andbutter,' do not by any means say it outright. You may say any thingand every thing approaching to 'bread and butter.' You may hint atbuck-wheat cake, or you may even go so far as to insinuate oat-mealporridge, but if bread and butter be your real meaning, be cautious, mydear Miss Psyche, not on any account to say 'bread and butter!'
I assured him that I should never say it again as long as I lived. Hekissed me and continued:
As for the tone heterogeneous, it is merely a judicious mixture,in equal proportions, of all the other tones in the world, andis consequently made up of every thing deep, great, odd, piquant,pertinent, and pretty.
Let us suppose now you have determined upon your incidents and tone.The most important portion--in fact, the soul of the whole business,is yet to be attended to--I allude to the filling up. It is not to besupposed that a lady, or gentleman either, has been leading the life ofa book worm. And yet above all things it is necessary that your articlehave an air of erudition, or at least afford evidence of extensivegeneral reading. Now I'll put you in the way of accomplishing thispoint. See here! (pulling down some three or four ordinary-lookingvolumes, and opening them at random). By casting your eye down almostany page of any book in the world, you will be able to perceive at oncea host of little scraps of either learning or bel-espritism, which arethe very thing for the spicing of a Blackwood article. You might as wellnote down a few while I read them to you. I shall make two divisions:first, Piquant Facts for the Manufacture of Similes, and, second,Piquant Expressions to be introduced as occasion may require. Writenow!--and I wrote as he dictated.
PIQUANT FACTS FOR SIMILES. 'There were originally but threeMuses--Melete, Mneme, Aoede--meditation, memory, and singing.' You maymake a good deal of that little fact if properly worked. You see it isnot generally known, and looks recherche. You must be careful and givethe thing with a downright improviso air.
Again. 'The river Alpheus passed beneath the sea, and emerged withoutinjury to the purity of its waters.' Rather stale that, to be sure, but,if properly dressed and dished up, will look quite as fresh as ever.
Here is something better. 'The Persian Iris appears to some personsto possess a sweet and very powerful perfume, while to others it isperfectly scentless.' Fine that, and very delicate! Turn it abouta little, and it will do wonders. We'll have some thing else in thebotanical line. There's nothing goes down so well, especially with thehelp of a little Latin. Write!
'The Epidendrum Flos Aeris, of Java, bears a very beautiful flower, andwill live when pulled up by the roots. The natives suspend it by a cordfrom the ceiling, and enjoy its fragrance for years.' That's capital!That will do for the similes. Now for the Piquant Expressions.
PIQUANT EXPRESSIONS. 'The Venerable Chinese novel Ju-Kiao-Li.' Good! Byintroducing these few words with dexterity you will evince your intimateacquaintance with the language and literature of the Chinese. With theaid of this you may either get along without either Arabic, or Sanscrit,or Chickasaw. There is no passing muster, however, without Spanish,Italian, German, Latin, and Greek. I must look you out a little specimenof each. Any scrap will answer, because you must depend upon your owningenuity to make it fit into your article. Now write!
'Aussi tendre que Zaire'--as tender as Zaire-French. Alludes to thefrequent repetition of the phrase, la tendre Zaire, in the Frenchtragedy of that name. Properly introduced, will show not only yourknowledge of the language, but your general reading and wit. You cansay, for instance, that the chicken you were eating (write an articleabout being choked to death by a chicken-bone) was not altogether aussitendre que Zaire. Write!
'Van muerte tan escondida, Que no te sienta venir, Porque el plazer del morir, No mestorne a dar la vida.'
That's Spanish--from Miguel de Cervantes. 'Come quickly, O death! butbe sure and don't let me see you coming, lest the pleasure I shall feelat your appearance should unfortunately bring me back again to life.'This you may slip in quite a propos when you are struggling in the lastagonies with the chicken-bone. Write!
_'Il pover 'huomo che non se'n era accorto, Andava combattendo, e eramorto.'_
That's Italian, you perceive--from Ariosto. It means that a great hero,in the heat of combat, not perceiving that he had been fairly killed,continued to fight valiantly, dead as he was. The application of thisto your own case is obvious--for I trust, Miss Psyche, that you willnot neglect to kick for at least an hour and a half after you have beenchoked to death by that chicken-bone. Please to write!
_'Und sterb'ich doch, no sterb'ich denn_
_Durch sie--durch sie!'_
That's German--from Schiller. 'And if I die, at least I die--forthee--for thee!' Here it is clear that you are apostrophizing the causeof your disaster, the chicken. Indeed what gentleman (or lady either) ofsense, wouldn't die, I should like to know, for a well fattened capon ofthe right Molucca breed, stuffed with capers and mushrooms, and servedup in a salad-bowl, with orange-jellies en mosaiques. Write! (You canget them that way at Tortoni's)--Write, if you please!
Here is a nice little Latin phrase, and rare too, (one can't be toorecherche or brief in one's Latin, it's getting so common--ignoratioelenchi. He has committed an ignoratio elenchi--that is to say, he hasunderstood the words of your proposition, but not the idea. The man wasa fool, you see. Some poor fellow whom you address while choking withthat chicken-bone, and who therefore didn't precisely understand whatyou were talking about. Throw the ignoratio elenchi in his teeth, and,at once, you have him annihilated. If he dares to reply, you can tellhim from Lucan (here it is) that speeches are mere anemonae verborum,anemone words. The anemone, with great brilliancy, has no smell. Or,if he begins to bluster, you may be down upon him with insomnia Jovis,reveries of Jupiter--a phrase which Silius Italicus (see here!) appliesto thoughts pompous and inflated. This will be sure and cut him to theheart. He can do nothing but roll over and die. Will you be kind enoughto write?
In Greek we must have some thing pretty--from Demosthenes, for example.[Greek phrase]
[Anerh o pheugoen kai palin makesetai] There is a tolerably goodtranslation of it in Hudibras
'For he that flies may fight again, Which he can never do that's slain.'
In a Blackwood article nothing makes so fine a show as your Greek. Thevery letters have an air of profundity about them. Only observe, madam,the astute look of that Epsilon! That Phi ought certainly to be abishop! Was ever there a smarter fellow than that Omicron? Justtwig that Tau! In short, there is nothing like Greek for a genuinesensation-paper. In the present case your application is the mostobvious thing in the world. Rap out the sentence, with a huge oath, andby way of ultimatum at the good-for-nothing dunder-headed villain whocouldn't understand your plain English in relation to the chicken-bone.He'll take the hint and be off, you may depend upon it.
These were all the instructions Mr. B. could afford me upon the topicin question, but I felt they would be entirely sufficient. I was, atlength, able to write a genuine Blackwood article, and determined to doit forthwith. In taking leave of me, Mr. B. made a proposition for thepurchase of the paper when written; but as he could offer me only fiftyguineas a sheet, I thought it better to let our society have it, thansacrifice it for so paltry a sum. Notwithstanding this niggardly spirit,however, the gentleman showed his consideration for me in all otherrespects, and indeed treated me with the greatest civility. His partingwords made a deep impression upon my heart, and I hope I shall alwaysremember them with gratitude.
My dear Miss Zenobia, he said, while the tears stood in his eyes, isthere anything else I can do to promote the success of your laudableundertaking? Let me reflect! It is just possible that you may not beable, so soon as convenient, to--to--get yourself drowned, or--chokedwith a chicken-bone, or--or hung,--or--bitten by a--but stay! Now Ithink me of it, there are a couple of very excellent bull-dogs in theyard--fine fellows, I assure you--savage, and all that--indeed just thething for your money--they'll have you eaten up, auricula and all, inless than five minutes (here's my watch!)--and then only think of thesensations! Here! I say--Tom!--Peter!--Dick, you villain!--let outthose--but as I was really in a great hurry, and had not anothermoment to spare, I was reluctantly forced to expedite my departure, andaccordingly took leave at once--somewhat more abruptly, I admit, thanstrict courtesy would have otherwise allowed.
It was my primary object upon quitting Mr. Blackwood, to get into someimmediate difficulty, pursuant to his advice, and with this view I spentthe greater part of the day in wandering about Edinburgh, seekingfor desperate adventures--adventures adequate to the intensity of myfeelings, and adapted to the vast character of the article I intended towrite. In this excursion I was attended by one negro--servant,Pompey, and my little lap-dog Diana, whom I had brought with me fromPhiladelphia. It was not, however, until late in the afternoon thatI fully succeeded in my arduous undertaking. An important eventthen happened of which the following Blackwood article, in the toneheterogeneous, is the substance and result.