"Dash it all, Pelinor!" Or: Cursing In Literature

I love how topics, like fashion, recirculate every little while. I hope we've learned to drop the topic-version of harem-pants and tie-dyed tops, but there are some subjects that can stand a re-hashing. Back in June of this year, Abigail Hartman wrote a very well thought-out post on the subject of swearing in her novels. In Hartman's words:

When a word comes to mind as admirably suited to a piece of dialogue, do you go ahead and write it, or do you hurriedly shoo it out and substitute something that, let's be honest, is always rather stale by comparison?

-And-

Bad words are for bad things.  When your wife is murdered, when you come up against a blackmailer, when your rival's about to win the man you love, when you've just been played for a fool, "oh bother" is not the first thing that springs to your mind.  Maybe we as the authors don't condone it, but we don't have to sermonize about it (that's even worse than not using the word in the first place).  We ought to write with understanding and compassion for the nature of man in all his God-made glory - fallen glory, yes, but glory all the same.  That includes the imperfections and the red-blooded passion of the real world.

At the time, I was not terribly active on the blogs, being in the middle of finishing "final" edits for Anon, Sir, Anon and traveling all around the country, but I remember being in possession of a feeling akin that shared by Mrs. Banks:

"Oh George, you didn't jump into the river. How sensible of you!"

This post I am now writing is intended strictly for a discussion of language in literature. In my day-to-day life, I don't curse and barely even use words like "crap". This has more to do with the fact that I despise sounding common and I live in a town of rednecks who use those words in place of adjectives. Frankly, I think cursing makes one sound less intelligent. I am not making any statements as far as the morality of using "damn" or "hell". Those words are of a different ilk than the Famous Four-Letter Furies which, I believe strongly, you can do without. Those four-letter words are understood by everyone in everyplace to be used to intentionally hurt a person or, simply, to be crass.
But "hell" and "damn" are in the Bible and if you want to argue logic, "hell" and "damn" are both very effective curses. It is definitely wrong to say "damn you" or "go to hell" as directed toward a person, because that is a very serious invocation and God's word says that Jesus himself was not willing that any should perish. In cursing at someone, you are telling them you'd like them to be Satan's property forevermore and that is hideous. But likening the pain inflicted by stepping on a Lego in the dark to the pain inflicted by a lake brimming with fire is probably quite honest. I know that my human concept of ceaseless pain cannot get much worse. All the same, most people's minds don't dash to logical arguments when they hear a curse. When most people say, "Damn," they are just being sloppy, crass, or offensive. Therefore, I abstain.

As regards "hell" and "damn" in literature, however, I was conflicted for a long while. Was it terribly awful of me to include a word like that? Would I alienate readers? Would I do harm to someone's sensibilities? I've realized the answers to these questions are, in my experience: No, perhaps, and yes.

I will always do harm to someone's sensibilities in my writing. I cannot help it. That is the charm of being an author who can't possibly please everyone at the same time. I may write about the breeding habits of sardines and some reader somewhere would be displeased that I hadn't mentioned their aquarius habitat and natural coloring as well.

 As for alienating some readers, I had to go to war with this subject (friendly war, but war) when my editor went through Anon, Sir, Anon. She noticed the occasional language in the book, mentioned the fact that it might rub some readers the wrong way, and questioned my choice in using the hells and damns. The thing is, when I use "language" in my writing, it always serves a purpose. I don't drop the world "damn" in a Mark Twainian fashion (i.e. because the word 'very' is too weak), but I will use the word when it serves its purpose and forms a connexxion between the reader and the story world. If I truly believe that my job as a writer is to bring to life an existing world of a story, then that existing world will have evil people in it as well as good. It must, or you'd have no story. I must be true to those people--the evil and good--and portray them aright.

You might sit and frown that the d-word has slipped into the most heated argument of the novel, but perhaps you aren't quite perceiving the whole image. The character who used that words exists...and I am portraying him to you. What if, dear reader, I have censored a good deal of, say, Michael Maynor's language and left you with only a pale grey "damnation" out of the blackness of his brew? Surely I've dealt more fairly with you than with him? Real-life villains are assuredly not content with "Oh blow," or Farnham's "bang," and if you've any sort of fondness for reality, you'll realize the implications of cutting it away. Certain characters are meant to turn your stomach. I am not the author to turn to if you're looking for a villain who is only grossly misunderstood and not evil at all, really. My villains are villainous and come with their villainy partially intact.

"That's all very good and well, Rachel, but I heard Dr. Breen swear and I was really shocked. I thought he was a good guy."

Again with the characters. Dr. Breen, if you cared to notice his history, is a man who has lived a bachelor's existence and is really quite ill-learned in the art of behaving around women. He tries to modify his tone, his language, his actions around Vivi but the reality is that the doctor is a roughened-up, stout-hearted Catholic man with a fondness for his drink and his friends. He is neither as conscientious as Farnham, nor as level-headed. It is in his character to be blunt and with that bluntness comes the first words at hand. If Breen uses one of the duo currently under inspection, it is because Breen as a real man would also use them. (Also, can one of my British friends please tell me if "damn" is considered swearing in the UK? I have heard that it isn't and from its common usage in nearly every British classic I've read--old and new--I would nearly believe that rumor.) I would even venture to say that if Breen used "damn" quite cheerily, he'd still be playing true. But for the sake of some of my younger, gentler readers, I cut out some instances.

Someone or two advance-readers took exception to Farnham's habit of saying "bang" in place of a more common curse-word. I can only imagine what the few uses of "damn" did to them, but I'll address "bang" now. I am curious about whether the persons who objected to "bang" would also object to saying, "Blast," "Snap", "Crumbs", "Golly", "Shoot", "Fiddlesticks", "Crikey", "Darn", "What the heck", "Crud," "Criminitly", "Dash it all", "Oh my stars", "Great Scot" and any of the other phrases that so pepper my own speech. Do you never invoke anything at all, be it the revered name of chocolate pudding as Katie so memorably did? Farnham, of course, never does anything in the common vein so he invented his own expletive. Certainly he meant something stronger when he used "bang", but what do you mean when you say "Oh blast. The tip of my pencil broke."? I really am curious, not trying to mock you.

On the flip side, I had some readers say that once or twice, they thought "damn" would have fit better than "bang" in a moment and that my use of the milder term felt awkward. Of course it does. So does "blast", when you're trying quite hard not to let fly the realio-trulio yellow-eyed owl. Farnham's essence is awkward chivalry and he tries especially hard to be clean-cut in the presence of some particulars.

In laying out my views on the subject of cursing, I don't intend to argue anyone off their stance, or even defend my uses. Really, I am writing on this subject for conversation's sake. In fact, if you've thought out your opinions on the matter and want to do a post in response, I'd love to chat. (Or if you have no inclination but still want to chat, the comments sections is always receiving.) I was not as succinct, scholarly, or compact as Abigail in my post on questionable words but am I ever? Just as I am true to my characters, I'm true to myself. You'll get nothing but the real stuff from me.

Masquerade

Fly Away Home--from the writing perspective--has been an interesting experience for me. First of all, it's a genre I don't usually write in. Fly Away Home is primarily an adult novel (20's-30's) , though I'm sure a YA reader would enjoy it.
But the thing that has been most challenging in this novel is the writing of Calida Harper's world-view. She's not a Christian and doesn't have a high opinion of those who are. She has been burnt by her father, deserted by her brother, and let down by life in general. The only thing she clings to or trusts is her ideal of becoming a Successful Woman and all the posturing that must go into her life in order to bring that ideal to a reality. Therefore to write this novel (in first-person too!) takes a bit of mind bending. I can't have Callie's narrative sounding like my own, because I'm a Christian and Callie is not. (Not yet, at least.)

A person's world-view is the lens they view life through. Everyone has one and it flavors and colors their whole perception of the world. Callie's is green. She's jaded and cynical, though like everyone there is portion of her that is still whole and beautiful. But for the most part Callie lives under false pretenses, a sham veneer, and associates among people who are probably just like her. That's part of the reason she and Mr. Barnett collide so often--he's realistic and honest and hearty while she has carefully cultivated her persona so that she is only what she thinks she ought to be.
In fact, Callie's whole world-view can be summed up in this conversation between herself a friend.

“Jamie?” I paused and smiled at him—so jolly and puckish. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like at a masquerade if everyone suddenly removed their masks and could see each other for who they really were?”

“Not much, my sweet. And what would you be wantin’ to see the real person for? The whole point of the game is to be appearin’ like someone else.”

That was the point wasn’t it? Life was just a masquerade—mine more than most—and if I didn’t give Jules what he wanted he’d tear my mask from my face and let the world see the woman who truly lay behind the mask of Calida Harper. My lips trembled and I bit them to keep the tears back.

“It’s a masquerade, darlin’,” Jamie said with a wink. “Everyone’s actin’ like someone else.” He stepped back onto the dance floor and the crowd consumed him.

The privilege I have in this project is to show the gradual change of Callie's worldview as the plot progresses. It's so neat to have an intimate acquaintance with a character who will undergo such changes. But it is a challenge, personally, to think as an unsaved person would think. Every thought of Callie's is tinged with suspicion, jealousy, pride, or hardness, and it has been a great mental and writing exercise to create such a character and write her realistically without making her unlikable or distasteful. I've also grown to remind myself that there are dozens of Callie Harpers living in the world today who are just as precious and just as deceived as she is...just waiting to meet a Mr. Barnett who will take the costumes, masks, and puppetry away and show them the things that make a person truly great.

What's to be the pill in all this jam?

When a random person chucked us a random magazine that had something to do with Creationism, the very last thing I expected to find inside was a very lucid article regarding the topic of How To Write Christian Fantasy. A very good article, by-the-by, and one I found most intriguing. The writer had several points I hadn't considered. But the one thing I found myself nodding along to was the mention he made of common pitfalls in writing Christian Fiction. As in any sort of writing, there are ways to do it and ways not to do it.
So how does one write Christian Fiction? I'll give you a few tips.

"Rule Number One: Obey All rules."

Now how did Barney Fife get into this post. Honestly. I believe the Crustimony Proseedcake in such cases is to over-moralize. The first thing is to be sure you don't over-moralize. There is nothing worse than a moral tacked onto the end of a book. Or the beginning of the book. Or all through the book. The thing is, morals don't have to be taken like pills. I shall revert to the Duchess of Wonderland's advice on this:

"'Tut, tut, child!" said the Duchess. 'Everything's got a moral if only you can find it.'"

That is the key to writing good Christian fiction. A moral or two jabbed on the plot at a jaunty angle does not make your book "Christian." A mention now and again of your characters saying grace before a meal makes for a weak testimony. The fact that they go to church and a scriptural allusion now and again is not much more helpful.
Inversely, books like C.S. Lewis' The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe never once out-right say they are "Christian" and yet one can't help but see the parable all through. That book is simply dripping with a rich understanding of Christ's kingdom. The morals in that book are quite obvious because they are distilled like a sweet fragrance all through the tale.
Honestly, who wants to be served a dish of morals on a silver platter? How would you like it if you came to read a story that chopped along something like this:

"He raised his sword and poised it at his enemy's throat--"You will die, villain, because you are prideful--Pride goeth before a fall...well....I'm your fall."

That is plain and simple awfulness. You don't need to be so obvious in your writing. You see, it all comes down to a simple question of world-view. If your mind has been exchanged from a callow, worldly mind to one focused on heavenly things and on glorifying Christ, His standards will flavor every word that comes out of your pen. You don't need to constantly try to plug in Bible verses in every other sentence because the whole of the book will reflect your world-view. If your world-view is flawed, so will be your morals. If it's a good, healthy, well-developed world-view than that will carry your standards into the plot. In fantasy this is particularly important, as you don't usually have the option of deeming your characters devout Protestants who always pray before every meal (even snacks) and quote Scripture at each other all the live-long day. ;) (Not that quoting Scripture is wrong. It has it's place, definitely, but I detest books where the dialog is entirely made up of try-to-fix-holes-in-the-plot quotations.)

To again reference the Duchess, "everything has a moral." Even things you don't think have morals. They are either good morals or bad morals. The key is to finding the moral and sprinkling it evenly through the plot, not building sandcastles with it at either end of the book. Do that, and people are likely to doubt your sincerity. After all, what sort of person forgets about their objective till the very end of a thing? Obviously they mustn't care too much about the point.

Just a thing or two to think about. :)