Inspired by my colleague Susha’s recent linking, I’ve been conducting a few investigations of my own into what the New York Times has labelled the “seven deadly words” of book reviewing—the ones that should be avoided at all costs. They are, in all their poisonous pusillanimousness: poignant, intriguing, compelling, craft, eschew, muse and lyrical. How often, I wondered, are such horrors perpetrated by responsible journalists? And how do Prospect, and the NYT, measure up?
Prospect has now existed for 145 issues, which makes our PICCEML index (as I’ve dubbed this new measurement; pronounced “piecemeal”) a simple calculation: the total number of occurrences divided by total number of issues, which works out as 3.3 in our case. Measuring the New York Times is a little more complicated. To calculate fairly the PICCEML index of such a massive publication, I’ve only counted the books and arts sections in my survey, and have included every issue since 1st January 1981—a grand total of 9,955. Work it all out, and you get 4.7—largely due to NYT critics’ incorrigible fondness for lyrical and compelling works.
At Prospect, in contrast, we prefer things to be compelling and intriguing, and have little patience with musing. Despite being more PICCEML than us, however, the NYT does almost entirely eschew “eschew,” a verb we have perpetrated no less than 21 times in our history—a statistic that, I’m sorry to say, includes my own compelling musings on another’s intriguingly lyrical style.
But what’s a good, or a representative, PICCEML? Since 1st January 2001, the Guardian and Observer have averaged a combined score of no less than 11.7, while the good old Sun achieved a commendably minute 0.8—and has only printed the word “eschew” three times in its history. It has also never, ever, referred to anything as “postmodern” (which must be worth at least -0.5 bonus points): something the Guardian did no less than 1,727 times over the last decade. The PICCEML is, it seems, best deployed as an index of highbrow decadence. Any suggestions for telling measures of quality at the other end of the scale?
its been a pleassure pronouncing you. and that karaokeskness - even if it’s just pure phonological - oops - fun, always is a good meassurer of quality, also.
ingeborg
Mr. Chatfield’s own rhetorical jab – “poisonous pusillanimousness” – though conceptually delightful, especially given its target, might be just one syllable too long and is as tough on the eye as the ear. (Is it possible that “pusillanimity”, modeled on “magnanimity” should be used in the longer word’s stead? I refuse to go to the dictionary on this one and let the lexical chips fall where they may.) I like the possible combination of “pusillanimous poignancy” as a term of critical scorn, and each of the dreaded terms of approval might be converted into its opposite by similar adversarial pairings (e.g., dubiously intriguing or intriguing hogwash; zero-compelling; eschewed craft – two for one, there; pedestrian lyricism; and, to wrap it up, mindless musing). Reading Milan Kundera’s recurring remarks about the poverty and pitfalls of “lyricism” (which, to his way of thinking, reflects an intense adolescent narcissism and intellectual immaturity) should cure anyone of using the term and might even induce a fear of lyrical poetry regardless of its quality. Without being able to assert this with statistical support, I am guessing that poetry criticism and commentary are worse offenders in the use of these deadly terms of approval than discussions of prose in either fiction or non-fiction. I’m sure there are other major offenders out there – once again without using an algorithm (there’s a post-modernish tic in itself!) to check, I would suggest that critics also take it easy with “tonic”, “bracing” and the whole family of rigor-vigor adjectives. Speaking personally, I disavowed eschewing things long ago (or was it the other way around?)
Can we know how many times The Sun and Prospect have respectively used the words tit and bum?
Prospect has enjoyed 21 tits during its existence, and 25 bums. The Sun quite puts us to shame, with 2212 and 265 respectively since 2001 - although their preferred house style for the former appears to be “boobs,” of which they have featured no less than 2278 (verbally, at least).
And I’m glad to confirm that pusillanimousness, in the sense of “contemptible fearfulness,” is a legitimate - if inherently rather ridiculous - form. Although pusillanimity is certainly preferred for those not trying too hard to make silly points about words…
Lowbrow review horrors would include: gripping, raw, edgy, heart-rending, page-turner and, perhaps worst of all, must-read.
The intructions on a parachute or fire extinguisher might be a must-read, but rarely, I find, is a novel.
It must have been a novel experience for Prospect to find one tit..
Apparently, The Royal Yacht Britannia used to contain a booklet :
‘ Information for Members of the Royal Household’, which included,
” On discovering a fire, the following procedure is recommended - (I) Shout ” FIRE ”
All words are relative. I, personally, find Prospect a must-read