Lists of Note

Integrated Bus Suggestions

2015-12-01T16:07:00.000+00:00

On December 1st, 1955, the course of history was changed when Rosa Parks refused to give up her bus seat for a white passenger and was subsequently arrested. For the next year, until racial segregation was deemed unconstitutional by the federal courts, a boycott of the public transport system, headed by Martin Luther King, took place. On December 19th of 1956, the eve of a historic victory for those opposed to such segregation, King prepared a list of guidelines for those soon to be re-boarding the buses.

Transcript follows. This fascinating document can be found in the Lists of Note book, along with 124 other compelling lists from throughout history. For more info about that book, go here.

Image © The King Center, Flip Schulke, Benedict Fernandez

Transcript

INTEGRATED BUS SUGGESTIONS

This is a historic week because segregation on buses has now been declared unconstitutional. Within a few days the Supreme Court Mandate will reach Montgomery and you will be re-boarding integrated buses. This places upon us all a tremendous responsibility of maintaining, in face of what could be some unpleasantness, a calm and loving dignity befitting good citizens and members of our Race. If there is violence in word or deed it must not be our people who commit it.

For your help and convience the following suggestions are made. Will you read, study and memorize them so that our non-violent determination may not be endangered. First, some general suggestions:

Not all white people are opposed to integrated buses. Accept goodwill on the part of many.
The whole bus is now for the use of all people. Take a vacant seat.
Pray for guidance and commit yourself to complete non-violence in word and action as you enter the bus.
Demonstrate the calm dignity of our Montgomery people in your actions.
In all things observe ordinary rules of courtesy and good behavior.
Remember that this is not a victory for Negroes alone, but for all Montgomery and the South. Do not boast! Do not brag!
Be quiet but friendly; proud, but not arrogant; joyous, but not boistrous.
Be loving enough to absorb evil and understanding enough to turn an enemy into a friend.

Now for some specific suggestions:

The bus driver is in charge of the bus and has been instructed to obey the law. Assume that he will cooperate in helping you occupy any vacant seat.
Do not deliberately sit by a white person, unless there is no other seat.
In sitting down by a person, white or colored, say "May I" or "Pardon me" as you sit. This is a common courtesy.
If cursed, do not curse back. If pushed, do not push back. If struck, do not strike back, but evidence love and goodwill at all times.
In case of an incident, talk as little as possible, and always in a quiet tone. Do not get up from your seat! Report all serious incidents to the bus driver.
For the first few days try to get on the bus with a friend in whose non-violence you have confidence. You can uphold one another by a glance or a prayer.
If another person is being molested, do not arise to go to his defense, but pray for the oppressor and use moral and spiritual force to carry on the struggle for justice.
According to your own ability and personality, do not be afraid to experi¬ment with new and creative techniques for achieving reconciliation and social change.
If you feel you cannot take it, walk for another week or two. We have confidence in our people. GOD BLESS YOU ALL.

The Lists of Note book (U.S. edition)

2015-06-03T16:35:00.000+01:00

Hello!

The very handsome U.S. edition of the Lists of Note book, pictured above, is soon to be published by the clever folk at Chronicle Books--on June 16th, to be precise--and I'm extremely excited. It's a gorgeous book, if I do say so myself, filled with 125 fascinating lists from throughout the ages, written by such people as Marilyn Monroe, Johnny Cash, Christopher Hitchens, Sylvia Plath, Isaac Newton, Rudyard Kipling, Thelonious Monk, Walt Whitman, Susan Sontag, Leonardo da Vinci, and many, many more.

Pre-order via this link and receive a Moleskin in which to write your own lists, plus a signed bookplate (this offer is open to US residents only and ends tomorrow, 4th June, so be quick!).

Thanks!
Shaun

Joan Didion’s Packing List

2014-10-01T16:36:00.000+01:00

In her 1979 book, The White Album, American author Joan Didion reveals and explains the packing list she used when working full-time as a reporter:

“This is a list which was taped inside my closet door in Hollywood during those years when I was reporting more or less steadily. The list enabled me to pack, without thinking, for any piece I was likely to do. Notice the deliberate anonymity of costume: in a skirt, a leotard, and stockings, I could pass on either side of the culture. Notice the mohair throw for trunk-line flights (i.e. no blankets) and for the motel room in which the air conditioning could not be turned off. Notice the bourbon for the same motel room. Notice the typewriter for the airport, coming home: the idea was to turn in the Hertz car, check in, find an empty bench, and start typing the day’s notes.

It should be clear that this was a list made by someone who prized control, yearned after momentum, someone determined to play her role as if she had the script, heard her cues, knew the narrative. There is on this list one significant omission, one article I needed and never had: a watch. I needed a watch not during the day, when I could turn on the car radio or ask someone, but at night, in the motel. Quite often I would ask the desk for the time every half hour or so, until finally, embarrassed to ask again, I would call Los Angeles and ask my husband. In other words I had skirts, jerseys, leotards, pullover sweater, shoes, stockings, bra, nightgown, robe, slippers, cigarettes, bourbon, shampoo, toothbrush and paste, Basis soap, razor, deodorant, aspirin, prescriptions, Tampax, face cream, powder, baby oil, mohair throw, typewriter, legal pads, pens, files and a house key, but I didn’t know what time it was. This may be a parable, either of my life as a reporter during the period or of the period itself.”

The list read as follows.

(Source: The White Album; Image: Joan Didion by David Shankbone.)

TO PACK AND WEAR:

2 skirts
2 jerseys or leotards
1 pullover sweater
2 pair shoes
stockings
bra
nightgown, robe slippers
cigarettes
bourbon
bag with:
shampoo
toothbrush and paste
Basis soap
razor
deodorant
aspirin
prescriptions
Tampax
face cream
powder
baby oil

TO CARRY:

mohair throw
typewriter
2 legal pads and pens
files
house key

BOOK!

2014-10-01T13:57:00.000+01:00

Hello!

The Lists of Note book is out today and can now be found in shops across the UK. I'm VERY excited. A few things:

1. The special edition can still be purchased via Unbound.

2. Waterstones have chosen it as their 'Non-Fiction Book of the Month' across the land. Hooray!

3. An extract of the book was published by the Telegraph the other day.

4. A lovely piece was written in the Independent, inspired by the book and our fascination with lists in general.

5. More info about the book and its stockists can be found here.

6. Photos of the book can be found here. Feel free to use them as you see fit.

That's all. I really hope you enjoy it.

Thanks!
Shaun

A Profane Abomination

2014-05-14T12:05:00.000+01:00

In July of 1977, Swiss artist H. R. Giger received an unexpected call from Dan O'Bannon, a Hollywood screenwriter who was very keen for Giger to help bring his latest screenplay, Alien, to life by way of some concept art. Days later, O'Bannon explained further in a letter that contained this list of things to be designed—a temple, the egg, the Facehugger, the Chestburster, and the "terrifically dangerous" Alien itself. As we now know, Giger took the commission on and became a vital member of the crew. Three years later, he and his team won an Academy Award for Best Achievement for Visual Effects for their incredible work.

(Source: Giger's Alien; Image: Giger at work, via.)

ALIEN

LIST OF ELEMENTS TO BE DESIGNED

EXTERIOR, ANCIENT TEMPLE. Approximately 20 meters tall. Should suggest an ancient, primitive and cruel culture.

INTERIOR, TEMPLE. This is where the Spore Pods are stored. This room is entered through a vertical tunnel in the roof (the normal entrance has long since collapsed). The Spore Pods can be seen ranked around the altar in the center of the room.

SPORE PODS. These are leathery, egg-shaped objects about one meter tall, which contain the larva of the Alien. They have a small "lid" on top which can pop off when a victim approaches.

THE ALIEN, FIRST PHASE. This is a small, possibly octopoidal creature which waits inside the Spore Pod for a victim to approach. When someone touches the Spore Pod, the lid flies off, and the small Alien (First Phase) leaps out and attaches itself to the face of the victim.

THE ALIEN, SECOND PHASE. Once the Alien (First Phase) has attached itself to the face of a victim, it lays eggs in the victim's stomach, and the egg grows into the Alien (Second Phase). This is a small creature which bites its way out of the victim's body.

THE ALIEN, THIRD (MATURE) PHASE. Having left its victim, the Alien promptly grows to man-size, whereupon it is terrifically dangerous. It is very mobile, strong, and capable of tearing a man to pieces. It feeds on human flesh. This creature should be a profane abomination. Our producers have suggested that something resembling an over-sized, deformed baby might be suffieciently loathsome. In any event, we wish you to feel free to create your own design.

Mastering the Art of French Cooking

2012-08-15T10:52:00.000+01:00

On October 31st of 1960, in a letter to her editor at Alfred A. Knopf publishers, the great Julia Child included a list — seen below — of 28 title suggestions for her forthcoming debut cookbook. The last of her suggestions was eventually chosen.

Mastering the Art of French Cooking was published the next year, and went on to become one of the most influential cookbooks of all time.

(Source: Ian Pinnock; Image: Julia Child, via.)

La Bonne Cuisine Française
In Love with French Cooking
The Love of French Cooking
Cooking for Love
The French Cooking Master
Cooking Mastery
Mastery of French Cooking (No "The")
The French Kitchen
Food from France
France's Food
The Noble Art of French Cooking
The Master French Cookbook
Great French Cooking
The Compulsive Cook
Cooking is my Hobby
The Hobby of French Cooking
French Cooking as a Hobby
School for French Cooks
School for French Cookery
A Course on French Cooking
The Passionate French Cook
French Cooking for Fun
French Cooking for Love
French Cooking for Everyone
Cook for Your Self a la Française
Mastering the Art of French Cuisine/Cooking/Cookery

What I Won't and Will Miss

2012-06-27T08:10:00.000+01:00

The great Nora Ephron passed away on June 26th of 2012, aged 71, following a battle with leukemia that began in 2006. She had many strings to her bow, but most notably wrote the screenplays to some of the best loved films ever to grace the big screen, many of which she also directed and produced. She wrote the following lists — of things she won't and will miss — in 2010 and used them to close her book, I Remember Nothing.

(Source: I Remember Nothing: And Other Reflections; Image: Nora Ephron, via.)

What I Won't Miss

Dry skin
Bad dinners like the one we went to last night
E-mail
Technology in general
My closet
Washing my hair
Bras
Funerals
Illness everywhere
Polls that show that 32 percent of the American people believe in creationism
Polls
Fox TV
The collapse of the dollar
Bar mitzvahs
Mammograms
Dead flowers
The sound of the vacuum cleaner
Bills
E-mail. I know I already said it, but I want to emphasize it.
Small print
Panels on Women in Film
Taking off makeup every night

What I Will Miss

My kids
Nick
Spring
Fall
Waffles
The concept of waffles
Bacon
A walk in the park
The idea of a walk in the park
The park
Shakespeare in the Park
The bed
Reading in bed
Fireworks
Laughs
The view out the window
Twinkle lights
Butter
Dinner at home just the two of us
Dinner with friends
Dinner with friends in cities where none of us lives
Paris
Next year in Istanbul
Pride and Prejudice
The Christmas tree
Thanksgiving dinner
One for the table
The dogwood
Taking a bath
Coming over the bridge to Manhattan
Pie

Einstein's Demands

2012-04-18T13:15:00.000+01:00

By 1914, Albert Einstein's marriage to his wife of 11 years, Mileva Marić, was fast deteriorating. Realising there was no hope for their relationship on a romantic level, Einstein proposed that they remain together for the sake of their children, but only if she agree to the following list of conditions.

Mileva accepted them, but to no avail. A few months later, she left her husband in Berlin and moved, with their sons, to Zurich. They eventually divorced in 1919, having lived apart for five years.

(Source: Einstein: His Life and Universe; Image: Mileva Marić & Albert Einstein, via elcorreo.)

CONDITIONS
You will make sure:
that my clothes and laundry are kept in good order;
that I will receive my three meals regularly in my room;
that my bedroom and study are kept neat, and especially that my desk is left for my use only.
You will renounce all personal relations with me insofar as they are not completely necessary for social reasons. Specifically, You will forego:
my sitting at home with you;
my going out or travelling with you.
You will obey the following points in your relations with me:
you will not expect any intimacy from me, nor will you reproach me in any way;
you will stop talking to me if I request it;
you will leave my bedroom or study immediately without protest if I request it.
You will undertake not to belittle me in front of our children, either through words or behavior.

F. Scott Fitzgerald's Turkey Recipes

2012-04-11T15:34:00.000+01:00

When he wasn't writing such classics as The Great Gatsby and Tender Is the Night, the late, great F. Scott Fitzgerald could often be found filling his notebooks with lists, jokes, essays and, as illustrated below, recipes. This particular example is an amusing list of 13 ways to use leftover turkey.

(Source: The Crack-Up; Image: F. Scott Fitzgerald, via.)

TURKEY REMAINS AND HOW TO INTER THEM WITH NUMEROUS SCARCE RECIPES

At this post holiday season, the refrigerators of the nation are overstuffed with large masses of turkey, the sight of which is calculated to give an adult an attack of dizziness. It seems, therefore, an appropriate time to give the owners the benefit of my experience as an old gourmet, in using this surplus material. Some of the recipes have been in my family for generations. (This usually occurs when rigor mortis sets in.) They were collected over years, from old cook books, yellowed diaries of the Pilgrim Fathers, mail order catalogues, golf-bags and trash cans. Not one but has been tried and proven—there are headstones all over America to testify to the fact.

Very well then. Here goes:

1. Turkey Cocktail: To one large turkey add one gallon of vermouth and a demijohn of angostura bitters. Shake.

2. Turkey à la Francais: Take a large ripe turkey, prepare as for basting and stuff with old watches and chains and monkey meat. Proceed as with cottage pudding.

3. Turkey and Water: Take one turkey and one pan of water. Heat the latter to the boiling point and then put in the refrigerator. When it has jelled, drown the turkey in it. Eat. In preparing this recipe it is best to have a few ham sandwiches around in case things go wrong.

4. Turkey Mongole: Take three butts of salami and a large turkey skeleton, from which the feathers and natural stuffing have been removed. Lay them out on the table and call up some Mongole in the neighborhood to tell you how to proceed from there.

5. Turkey Mousse: Seed a large prone turkey, being careful to remove the bones, flesh, fins, gravy, etc. Blow up with a bicycle pump. Mount in becoming style and hang in the front hall.

6. Stolen Turkey: Walk quickly from the market, and, if accosted, remark with a laugh that it had just flown into your arms and you hadn't noticed it. Then drop the turkey with the white of one egg—well, anyhow, beat it.

7. Turkey à la Crême: Prepare the crême a day in advance. Deluge the turkey with it and cook for six days over a blast furnace. Wrap in fly paper and serve.

8. Turkey Hash: This is the delight of all connoisseurs of the holiday beast, but few understand how really to prepare it. Like a lobster, it must be plunged alive into boiling water, until it becomes bright red or purple or something, and then before the color fades, placed quickly in a washing machine and allowed to stew in its own gore as it is whirled around. Only then is it ready for hash. To hash, take a large sharp tool like a nail-file or, if none is handy, a bayonet will serve the purpose—and then get at it! Hash it well! Bind the remains with dental floss and serve.

9. Feathered Turkey: To prepare this, a turkey is necessary and a one pounder cannon to compel anyone to eat it. Broil the feathers and stuff with sage-brush, old clothes, almost anything you can dig up. Then sit down and simmer. The feathers are to be eaten like artichokes (and this is not to be confused with the old Roman custom of tickling the throat.)

10. Turkey à la Maryland: Take a plump turkey to a barber's and have him shaved, or if a female bird, given a facial and a water wave. Then, before killing him, stuff with old newspapers and put him to roost. He can then be served hot or raw, usually with a thick gravy of mineral oil and rubbing alcohol. (Note: This recipe was given me by an old black mammy.)

11. Turkey Remnant: This is one of the most useful recipes for, though not, "chic," it tells what to do with the turkey after the holiday, and how to extract the most value from it. Take the remants, or, if they have been consumed, take the various plates on which the turkey or its parts have rested and stew them for two hours in milk of magnesia. Stuff with moth-balls.

12. Turkey with Whiskey Sauce: This recipe is for a party of four. Obtain a gallon of whiskey, and allow it to age for several hours. Then serve, allowing one quart for each guest. The next day the turkey should be added, little by little, constantly stirring and basting.

13. For Weddings or Funerals: Obtain a gross of small white boxes such as are used for bride's cake. Cut the turkey into small squares, roast, stuff, kill, boil, bake and allow to skewer. Now we are ready to begin. Fill each box with a quantity of soup stock and pile in a handy place. As the liquid elapses, the prepared turkey is added until the guests arrive. The boxes delicately tied with white ribbons are then placed in the handbags of the ladies, or in the men's side pockets.

There I guess that's enough turkey talk. I hope I'll never see or hear of another until—well, until next year.

Rules of Palship

2012-04-10T15:19:00.002+01:00

In August of 1915, 14-year-old Noël Coward and his best friend, the actress Esmé Wynne, half-jokingly drew up the following "Rules of Palship," mainly in an attempt to minimise arguments in what was an incredibly close and sometimes turbulent friendship. Apparently the greatest source of friction between the pair was religion — she was a devout Christian, he was agnostic — hence the ninth rule.

More than anything, the resulting list is incredibly sweet.

Full transcript follows.

(Source: The Letters of Noël Coward; Image of Noël Coward via the BBC.)

Transcript

RULES OF PALSHIP BETWEEN ESMÉ WYNNE AND NOËL COWARD

(1). We must not tease each other and if we begin we must stop directly we are asked.

(2). We must take it in turns to go and see one another and if one goes twice running to the other's house, the other must do the same afterwards.

(3). We must never split on one another even if the PALSHIP is dissolved and we must hold all confidences sacred.

(4). We must share all profits in any transaction made together, however slight the help of the other may be. Profits are excluded from any expenses incurred during the said transaction.

(5). In case of serious quarrel a week or a fortnight may be taken to think things over before abolishing the PALSHIP.

(6). If one hits the other either in anger or fun, he must allow the other to hit back. Any other offence must be paid for.

(7). We must stick up for each other against anyone or anything, and stand by each other in all danger.

(8). We must tell each other all secrets concerned with ourselves, other confidences may be held sacred even from one another.

(9). We must not talk RELIGION unless it is inevitable.

(10). When writing to mutual friends we must tell each other, we must also tell each other what we have said in the letter.

(11). We must swear by "HONOUR AS A PAL" and hold it THE most sacred of bonds in the world.

(12). We must tell each other what we think about the other's appearance or behaviour.

(13). We must go straight to one another in case of mischief being made and believe NOTHING unless it comes from the other's own lips.

(14). NO ONE, not even our Parents, may keep us from one another.

(15). If any other rules are formed or thought of, the must be added (with the consent of both) at the end of this document.

(16). NO OTHER PERSON may be admitted into our PALSHIP or SECRETS.

SIGNATURE OF BOTH

(Signed)

Dated August the 11th 1915.

11 Rules for Box-Office Appeal

2012-04-05T10:36:00.001+01:00

In 1941, a year after his movie, The Great McGinty, won the first ever Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay, celebrated screenwriter/director and "father of the screwball comedy," Preston Sturges, drew up the following "eleven rules for box-office appeal."

(Source: The Cinema of Preston Sturges: A Critical Study; Image: Preston Sturges, via PBS.)

A pretty girl is better than an ugly one.
A leg is better than an arm.
A bedroom is better than a living room.
An arrival is better than a departure.
A birth is better than a death.
A chase is better than a chat.
A dog is better than a landscape.
A kitten is better than a dog.
A baby is better than a kitten.
A kiss is better than a baby.
A pratfall is better than anything.

Dr. Strangelove

2012-04-03T15:34:00.000+01:00

From one of Stanley Kubrick's notebooks comes a list of potential titles for the 1964 movie that was eventually named, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. Interestingly, that particular title doesn't feature on this page.

Transcript follows, minus a few I couldn't really make sense of.

(Source: The Stanley Kubrick Archives; Image above via Screened.)

The list, arranged alphabetically:

Doctor Doomsday
Don't Knock the Bomb
Dr. Doomsday and his Nuclear Wiseman
Dr. Doomsday Meets Ingrid Strangelove
Dr. Doomsday or: How to Start World War III Without Even Trying
Dr. Strangelove's Bomb
Dr. Strangelove's Secret Uses of Uranus
My Bomb, Your Bomb
Save The Bomb
Strangelove: Nuclear Wiseman
The Bomb and Dr. Strangelove or: How to be Afraid 24hrs a Day
The Bomb of Bombs
The Doomsday Machine
The Passion of Dr. Strangelove
Wonderful Bomb

Simple Rules for Life in London

2012-04-02T13:26:00.000+01:00

On June 9th of 1908, as his youngest daughter, 12-year-old Elsie, prepared for a trip to London, author Rudyard Kipling wrote her a letter in which the following list of "rules for Life in London" was included.

(Source: O Beloved Kids: Rudyard Kipling's Letters to His Children; Image: Rudyard Kipling, via Wikimedia.)

Dear Bird,

[...]

I send you a few simple rules for Life in London.
Wash early and often with soap and hot water.
Do not roll on the grass of the parks. It will come off black on your dress.
Never eat penny buns, oysters, periwinkles or peppermints on the top of a bus. It annoys the passengers.
Be kind to policemen. You never know when you may be taken up.
Never stop a motor bus with your foot. It is not a croquet ball.
Do not attempt to take pictures off the wall of the National Gallery or to remove cases of butterflies from the National History Museum. You will be noticed if you do.
Avoid late hours, pickled salmon, public meetings, crowded crossings, gutters, water-carts and over-eating.

Ever your

Daddo

Thurber's Rules

2012-03-29T17:01:00.001+01:00

In his 1949 book, Thurber Country, celebrated author, cartoonist and satirist James Thurber offers some amusing rules for comedy writers, "established [...] after receiving dozens of humorous essays and stories from strangers over a period of twenty years."

Those rules are as follows.

(Source: Thurber Country; Image: James Thurber, via Wikipedia.)

1. The reader should be able to find out what the story is about.

2. Some inkling of the general idea should be apparent in the first five hundred words.

3. If the writer has decided to change the name of his protagonist from Ketcham to McTavish, Ketcham should not keep bobbing up in the last five pages. A good way to eliminate this confusion is to read the piece over before sending it out, and remove Ketcham completely. He is a nuisance.

4. The word "I'll" should not be divided so that the "I" is on one line and the " 'll" on the next. The reader's attention, after the breaking up of "I'll," can never be successfully recaptured.

5. It also never recovers from such names as Ann S. Thetic, Maud Lynn, Sally Forth, Bertha Twins, and the like.

6. Avoid comic stories about plumbers who are mistaken for surgeons, sheriffs who are terrified by gunfire, psychiatrists who are driven crazy by women patients, doctors who faint at the sight of blood, adolescent girls who know more about sex than their fathers do, and midgets who turn out to be the parents of a two-hundred-pound wrestler.

Also, I have a special wariness of people who write opening sentences with nothing in mind, and then try to create a story around them. These sentences, usually easy to detect, go like this: "Mrs. Ponsonby had never put the dog in the oven before," "'I have a wine tree, if you would care to see it,' said Mr. Dillingworth," and "Jackson decided suddenly, for no reason, really, to buy his wife a tricycle." I have never traced the fortunes of such characters in the stories I receive beyond the opening sentence, but, like you, I have a fair notion of what happens, or doesn't happen, in "The Barking Oven," "The Burgundy Tree," and "A Tricycle for Mama."

Advice from Billy Wilder

2012-03-27T10:41:00.001+01:00

Today marks a decade since the death of legendary filmmaker, Billy Wilder — a man responsible for writing and/or directing some of Hollywood's most iconic movies (just three examples: The Apartment, Some Like It Hot, and Double Indemnity). It therefore seems like the perfect opportunity to revisit his list of tips for screenwriters, as told to Cameron Crowe in the late-1990s and published in the superb book, Conversations with Wilder.

(Source: Conversations with Wilder; Image: Billy Wilder, via.)

The audience is fickle.
Grab 'em by the throat and never let 'em go.
Develop a clean line of action for your leading character.
Know where you're going.
The more subtle and elegant you are in hiding your plot points, the better you are as a writer.
If you have a problem with the third act, the real problem is in the first act.
A tip from Lubitsch: Let the audience add up two plus two. They'll love you forever.
In doing voice-overs, be careful not to describe what the audience already sees. Add to what they're seeing.
The event that occurs at the second act curtain triggers the end of the movie.
The third act must build, build, build in tempo and action until the last event, and then — that's it. Don’t hang around.

Rules for Detective Writers

2012-03-26T14:37:00.001+01:00

As detective fiction took hold during what is now considered its "Golden Age," a number of authors felt it necessary to introduce some structure to the genre by publishing lists of rules, to be followed by their fellow writers. I've assembled a few below — from S. S. Van Dine, Ronald Knox, and Raymond Chandler — along with a list of "do's and don'ts" for contributors to Spicy Detective magazine in the 1930s.

(Image above via Flickr.)

Twenty Rules for Writing Detective Stories (1928)
by author S. S. Van Dine

The reader must have equal opportunity with the detective for solving the mystery. All clues must be plainly stated and described.
No wilful tricks or deceptions may be played on the reader other than those played legitimately by the criminal on the detective himself.
There must be no love interest in the story. To introduce amour is to clutter up a purely intellectual experience with irrelevant sentiment. The business in hand is to bring a criminal to the bar of justice, not to bring a lovelorn couple to the hymeneal altar.
The detective himself, or one of the official investigators, should never turn out to be the culprit. This is bald trickery, on a par with offering some one a bright penny for a five-dollar gold piece. It's false pretenses.
The culprit must be determined by logical deductions--not by accident or coincidence or unmotivated confession. To solve a criminal problem in this latter fashion is like sending the reader on a deliberate wild-goose chase, and then telling him, after he has failed, that you had the object of his search up your sleeve all the time. Such an author is no better than a practical joker.
The detective novel must have a detective in it; and a detective is not a detective unless he detects. His function is to gather clues that will eventually lead to the person who did the dirty work in the first chapter; and if the detective does not reach his conclusions through an analysis of those clues, he has no more solved his problem than the schoolboy who gets his answer out of the back of the arithmetic.
There simply must be a corpse in a detective novel, and the deader the corpse the better. No lesser crime than murder will suffice. Three hundred pages is far too much pother for a crime other than murder. After all, the reader's trouble and expenditure of energy must be rewarded. Americans are essentially humane, and therefore a tiptop murder arouses their sense of vengeance and horror. They wish to bring the perpetrator to justice; and when "murder most foul, as in the best it is," has been committed, the chase is on with all the righteous enthusiasm of which the thrice gentle reader is capable.
The problem of the crime must be solved by strictly naturalistic means. Such methods for learning the truth as slate-writing, ouija-boards, mind-reading, spiritualistic séances, crystal-gazing, and the like, are taboo. A reader has a chance when matching his wits with a rationalistic detective, but if he must compete with the world of spirits and go chasing about the fourth dimension of metaphysics, he is defeated ab initio.
There must be but one detective--that is, but one protagonist of deduction--one deus ex machine. To bring the minds of three or four, or sometimes a gang of detectives to bear on a problem is not only to disperse the interest and break the direct thread of logic, but to take an unfair advantage of the reader, who, at the outset, pits his mind against that of the detective and proceeds to do mental battle. If there is more than one detective the reader doesn't know who his co-deductor is. It's like making the reader run a race with a relay team.
The culprit must turn out to be a person who has played a more or less prominent part in the story--that is, a person with whom the reader is familiar and in whom he takes an interest. For a writer to fasten the crime, in the final chapter, on a stranger or person who has played a wholly unimportant part in the tale, is to confess to his inability to match wits with the reader.
Servants--such as butlers, footmen, valets, game-keepers, cooks, and the like--must not be chosen by the author as the culprit. This is begging a noble question. It is a too easy solution. It is unsatisfactory, and makes the reader feel that his time has been wasted. The culprit must be a decidedly worth-while person--one that wouldn't ordinarily come under suspicion; for if the crime was the sordid work of a menial, the author would have had no business to embalm it in book-form.
There must be but one culprit, no matter how many murders are committed. The culprit may, of course, have a minor helper or co-plotter; but the entire onus must rest on one pair of shoulders: the entire indignation of the reader must be permitted to concentrate on a single black nature.
Secret societies, camorras, mafias, et al., have no place in a detective story. Here the author gets into adventure fiction and secret-service romance. A fascinating and truly beautiful murder is irremediably spoiled by any such wholesale culpability. To be sure, the murderer in a detective novel should be given a sporting chance, but it is going too far to grant him a secret society (with its ubiquitous havens, mass protection, etc.) to fall back on. No high-class, self-respecting murderer would want such odds in his jousting-bout with the police.
The method of murder, and the means of detecting it, must be rational and scientific. That is to say, pseudo-science and purely imaginative and speculative devices are not to be tolerated in the roman policier. For instance, the murder of a victim by a newly found element--a super-radium, let us say--is not a legitimate problem. Nor may a rare and unknown drug, which has its existence only in the author's imagination, be administered. A detective-story writer must limit himself, toxicologically speaking, to the pharmacopoeia. Once an author soars into the realm of fantasy, in the Jules Verne manner, he is outside the bounds of detective fiction, cavorting in the uncharted reaches of adventure.
The truth of the problem must at all times be apparent--provided the reader is shrewd enough to see it. By this I mean that if the reader, after learning the explanation for the crime, should reread the book, he would see that the solution had, in a sense, been staring him in the face--that all the clues really pointed to the culprit--and that, if he had been as clever as the detective, he could have solved the mystery himself without going on to the final chapter. That the clever reader does often thus solve the problem goes without saying. And one of my basic theories of detective fiction is that, if a detective story is fairly and legitimately constructed, it is impossible to keep the solution from all readers. There will inevitably be a certain number of them just as shrewd as the author; and if the author has shown the proper sportsmanship and honesty in his statement and projection of the crime and its clues, these perspicacious readers will be able, by analysis, elimination and logic, to put their finger on the culprit as soon as the detective does. And herein lies the zest of the game. Herein we have an explanation for the fact that readers who would spurn the ordinary "popular" novel will read detective stories unblushingly.
A detective novel should contain no long descriptive passages, no literary dallying with side-issues, no subtly worked-out character analyses, no "atmospheric" preoccupations. Such matters have no vital place in a record of crime and deduction. They hold up the action, and introduce issues irrelevant to the main purpose, which is to state a problem, analyze it, and bring it to a successful conclusion. To be sure, there must be a sufficient descriptiveness and character delineation to give the novel verisimilitude; but when an author of a detective story has reached that literary point where he has created a gripping sense of reality and enlisted the reader's interest and sympathy in the characters and the problem, he has gone as far in the purely "literary" technique as is legitimate and compatible with the needs of a criminal-problem document. A detective story is a grim business, and the reader goes to it, not for literary furbelows and style and beautiful descriptions and the projection of moods, but for mental stimulation and intellectual activity--just as he goes to a ball game or to a cross-word puzzle. Lectures between innings at the Polo Grounds on the beauties of nature would scarcely enhance the interest in the struggle between two contesting baseball nines; and dissertations on etymology and orthography interspersed in the definitions of a cross-word puzzle would tend only to irritate the solver bent on making the words interlock correctly.
A professional criminal must never be shouldered with the guilt of a crime in a detective story. Crimes by house-breakers and bandits are the province of the police department--not of authors and brilliant amateur detectives. Such crimes belong to the routine work of the Homicide Bureaus. A really fascinating crime is one committed by a pillar of a church, or a spinster noted for her charities.
A crime in a detective story must never turn out to be an accident or a suicide. To end an odyssey of sleuthing with such an anti-climax is to play an unpardonable trick on the reader. If a book-buyer should demand his two dollars back on the ground that the crime was a fake, any court with a sense of justice would decide in his favor and add a stinging reprimand to the author who thus hoodwinked a trusting and kind-hearted reader.
The motives for all crimes in detective stories should be personal. International plottings and war politics belong in a different category of fiction--in secret-service tales, for instance. But a murder story must be kept gemütlich, so to speak. It must reflect the reader's everyday experiences, and give him a certain outlet for his own repressed desires and emotions.
And (to give my Credo an even score of items) I herewith list a few of the devices which no self-respecting detective-story writer will now avail himself of. They have been employed too often, and are familiar to all true lovers of literary crime. To use them is a confession of the author's ineptitude and lack of originality.

(a) Determining the identity of the culprit by comparing the butt of a cigarette left at the scene of the crime with the brand smoked by a suspect.
(b) The bogus spiritualistic séance to frighten the culprit into giving himself away.
(c) Forged finger-prints.
(d) The dummy-figure alibi.
(e) The dog that does not bark and thereby reveals the fact that the intruder is familiar.
(f) The final pinning of the crime on a twin, or a relative who looks exactly like the suspected, but innocent, person.
(g) The hypodermic syringe and the knockout drops.
(h) The commission of the murder in a locked room after the police have actually broken in.
(i) The word-association test for guilt.
(j) The cipher, or code letter, which is eventually unraveled by the sleuth.

(First published in American Magazine, 1928; Reprinted in The Winter Murder Case.)

A Detective Story Decalogue (1929)
by author Ronald Knox

The criminal must be someone mentioned in the early part of the story, but must not be anyone whose thoughts the reader has been allowed to follow.
All supernaural or preternatural agencies are ruled out as a matter of course.
Not more than one secret room or passage is allowable.
No hitherto undiscovered poisons may be used, nor any appliance which will need a long scientific explanation at the end.
No Chinaman must figure in the story.
No accident must ever help the detective, nor must he ever have an unaccountable intuition which proves to be right.
The detective must not himself commit the crime.
The detective must not light on any clues which are not instantly produced for the inspection of the reader.
The stupid friend of the detective, the Watson, must not conceal any thoughts which pass through his mind; his intelligence must be slightly, but very slightly, below that of the average reader.
Twin brothers, and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them.

(First published in Knox's preface to "Best Detective Stories of 1928-29"; Reprinted in Whodunit: A Guide to Crime, Suspense, and Spy Fiction.)

10 Commandments for the Detective Novel (1949)
by author Raymond Chandler

It must be credibly motivated, both as to the original situation and the dénouement.
It must be technically sound as to the methods of murder and detection.
It must be realistic in character, setting and atmosphere. It must be about real people in a real world.
It must have a sound story value apart from the mystery element: i.e., the investigation itself must be an adventure worth reading.
It must have enough essential simplicity to be explained easily when the time comes.
It must baffle a reasonably intelligent reader.
The solution must seem inevitable once revealed.
It must not try to do everything at once. If it is a puzzle story operating in a rather cool, reasonable atmosphere, it cannot also be a violent adventure or a passionate romance.
It must punish the criminal in one way or another, not necessarily by operation of the law. If the detective fails to resolve the consequences of the crime, the story is an unresolved chord and leaves irritation behind it.
It must be honest with the reader.

(Based on Chandler's "Twelve Notes on the Mystery Novel"; Source: The Whodunit: An Informal History of Detective Fiction.)

Sex in Detective Fiction – Do's and Don'ts (1935)
by Frank Armer, publisher of Spicy Detective magazine

In describing breasts of a female character, avoid anatomical descriptions.
If it is necessary for the story to have the girl give herself to a man, do not go too carefully into the details. You can lead up to the actual consummation, but leave the rest up to the reader’s imagination. This subject should be handled delicately and a great deal can be done by implication and suggestion.
Whenever possible, avoid complete nudity of the female characters. You can have a girl strip to her underwear, or transparent negligee, or nightgown, or the thin torn shred of her garments, but while the girl is alive and in contact with a man, we do not want complete nudity.
A nude female corpse is allowable, of course.
Also, a girl undressing in the privacy of her own room, but when men are in the action try to keep at least a shred of something on the girls.
Do not have men in underwear in scenes with women, and no nude men at all.

(Editorial guidelines published by Spicy Detective magazine in 1935; Reprinted in Snobbery with Violence - English crime stories and Their Audience.)

The 47 Dwarfs

2012-03-23T16:00:00.001+00:00

In the 1930s, as they began work on the big-screen adaptation of Snow White by the Brothers Grimm, the writing team at Disney compiled the following list of potential names for the seven dwarfs — characters who, in the original story, were unnamed. As we now know, Bashful, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, and Sneezy were picked. The name of their leader, Doc, was chosen at a later date.

Note: Some twenty years beforehand, in 1912, the story had been adapted for the Broadway stage by Winthrop Ames. In that production, the dwarfs were named Blick, Flick, Glick, Snick, Plick, Whick, and Quee.

(Sources: Disney's Art of Animation, & Cartoon Monickers; Image via.)

Awful
Baldy
Bashful
Biggo-Ego
Burpy
Daffy
Deafy
Dippy
Dirty
Dizzy
Doleful
Dopey
Dumpy
Flabby
Gabby
Grumpy
Hickey
Hoppy
Hotsy
Hungry
Jaunty
Jumpy
Lazy
Neurtsy
Nifty
Puffy
Sappy
Scrappy
Shifty
Shorty
Silly
Sleepy
Snappy
Sneezy
Sneezy-Wheezy
Sniffy
Snoopy
Soulful
Strutty
Stuffy
Swift
Tearful
Thrifty
Weepy
Wheezy
Wistful
Woeful

How the Universe works

2012-03-20T13:49:00.000+00:00

From award-winning science fiction author Larry Niven comes a list that describes, in his own words, "how the Universe works" — also known as "Niven's Laws." Said list has evolved over the years and as a result variations exist. The version below is quoted from the book, Take My Advice, published in 2007.

(Source: Take My Advice; Image: Larry Niven, via Wikipedia.)

To the best I've been able to tell in fifty years of observation, this is how the Universe works. I hope I didn't leave anything out.

1a. Never throw shit at an armed man.

1b. Never stand next to someone who is throwing shit at an armed man. You wouldn't think anyone would need to be told this. Does anyone remember the Democratic National Convention of 1968?

2. Never fire a laser at a mirror.

3. Mother Nature doesn't care if you're having fun. (Please note: You will not be stopped! There are things you can't do because your metabolism uses oxidation of sugar, or you're made of meat, or you're a mammal, or human. Funny chemicals will kill you slow or quick, or ruin your brain...or prolong your life, if you're careful. You can't fly like an eagle, nor yet like Daedalus, but you can fly with a hang glider, or ride through the sky in something like a cramped living room. There are even answers to jet lag. You can cheat. Nature doesn't care, but don't get caught.)

4. F × S = k. The product of Freedom and Security is a constant. To gain more freedom of thought and/or action, you must give up some security, and vice versa. These remarks apply to individuals, nations, and civilizations. Notice that the constant k is different for every civilization and different for every individual.

5. Psi and/or magical powers, if real, are nearly useless. Over the lifetime of the human species we would otherwise have done something with them.

6. It is easier to destroy than create. If human beings didn't have a strong preference for creation, nothing would get built.

7. Any damn fool can predict the past. Generals are famous for this, and certain writers too.

8. History never repeats itself.

9. Ethics changes with technology.

10. Anarchy is the least stable of social structures. It falls apart at a touch.

11. There is a time and a place for tact. (And there are times when tact is entirely misplaced.)

12. The ways of being human are bound but infinite.

13. The world's dullest subjects, in order:

a. Somebody else's diet.
b. How to make money for a worthy cause.
c. Special-Interest Liberation.

14. The only universal message in science fiction: There exist minds that think as well as you do, but differently. Niven's corollary: The gene-tampered turkey you're talking to need not be one of them.

15. Niven's Law for Musicians: If the applause wasn't louder than the music, something's wrong. Play better or softer.

16. Fuzzy Pink Niven's Law: Never waste calories. Potato chips, candy, or hot fudge sundae consumption may involve you, your doctor, your wardrobe, and other factors. But Fuzzy Pink's Law implies:

Don't eat soggy potato chips.
Or cheap candy.
Or an inferior hot fudge sundae.
Or a cold soggy pizza.

17. There is no cause so right that one cannot find a fool following it. This one's worth noticing. At the first High Frontier Convention, the minds assembled were among the best in the world, and I couldn't find a conversation that didn't teach me something. But the only newspersons I ran across were interviewing the only handicapped person among us. To prove a point, one may seek out a foolish communist, thirteenth-century liberal, Scientologist, High Frontier advocate, Mensa member, science fiction fan, gamer, Christian, or fanatical devotee of Special-Interest Lib--but that doesn't really reflect on the cause itself. Ad hominem arguments save time, but it's still a fallacy.

18. No technique works if it isn't used. If that sounds simplistic, look at some specifics: Telling friends about your diet won't make you thin. Buying a diet cookbook won't either. Even reading the recipes won't do it. Knowing about Alcoholics Anonymous, looking up the phone number, even jotting it on real paper, won't make you sober. Buying weights doesn't give you muscles. Signing a piece of paper won't make missiles disappear, even if you make lots of copies and tell every anchorperson on earth. Endlessly studying designs for spacecraft won't put anything into orbit. And so forth. But you surely know someone who tried it that way, and maybe you're one yourself.

19. Not responsible for advice not taken.

Very rich Americans: polite letter

2012-03-16T12:04:00.001+00:00

In July of 1952, Nancy Mitford wrote to her friend, the famous novelist Evelyn Waugh, and asked:

"What do you do with all the people who want interviews, with fan letters & with fans in the flesh? Just a barrage of nos?"

Waugh's reply contained the following — a list of the stock responses he used in such situations.

(Source: Evelyn Waugh: A Biography; Image: Evelyn Waugh, via.)

I am not greatly troubled by fans nowadays. Less than one a day on the average. No sour grapes when I say they were an infernal nuisance. I divide them into...

(a) Humble expressions of admiration. To these a post-card saying "I am delighted to learn that you enjoyed my book. E. W."
(b) Impudent criticism. No answer.
(c) Bores who wish to tell me about themselves. Post-card saying "Thank you for interesting letter. E. W."
(d) Technical criticism, eg. One has made a character go to Salisbury from Paddington. Post-card: "Many thanks for your valuable suggestion. E. W."
(e) Humble aspirations of would-be writers. If attractive a letter of discouragement. If unattractive a post-card.
(f) Requests from University Clubs for a lecture. Printed refusal.
(g) Requests from Catholic Clubs for lecture. Acceptance.
(h) American students of "Creative Writing" who are writing theses about one & want one, virtually, to write their theses for them. Printed refusal.
(i) Tourists who invite themselves to one’s house. Printed refusal.
(j) Manuscript sent for advice. Return without comment.

I also have some post-cards with my photograph on them which I send to nuns.

In case of very impudent letters from married women I write to the husband warning him that his wife is attempting to enter into correspondence with strange men.

Oh, and of course...

(k) Autograph collectors: no answer.
(l) Indians & Germans asking for free copies of one's books: no answer.
(m) Very rich Americans: polite letter. They are capable of buying 100 copies for Christmas presents.

I think that more or less covers the field.

Newton's Sins

2012-03-13T20:53:00.002+00:00

In 1662, at which point he was a student at Trinity College, Cambridge, 19-year-old Isaac Newton wrote, in his notebook, the following list of 57 sins he had recently committed — 48 before Whitsunday, and 9 since. It makes for fascinating reading.

(Source: Newton Project, via Brain Pickings; Image: Isaac Newton, via Wikipedia.)

Before Whitsunday 1662
Using the word (God) openly
Eating an apple at Thy house
Making a feather while on Thy day
Denying that I made it.
Making a mousetrap on Thy day
Contriving of the chimes on Thy day
Squirting water on Thy day
Making pies on Sunday night
Swimming in a kimnel on Thy day
Putting a pin in Iohn Keys hat on Thy day to pick him
Carelessly hearing and committing many sermons
Refusing to go to the close at my mothers command
Threatning my father and mother Smith to burne them and the house over them
Wishing death and hoping it to some
Striking many
Having uncleane thoughts words and actions and dreamese
Stealing cherry cobs from Eduard Storer
Denying that I did so
Denying a crossbow to my mother and grandmother though I knew of it
Setting my heart on money learning pleasure more than Thee
A relapse
A relapse
A breaking again of my covenant renued in the Lords Supper
Punching my sister
Robbing my mothers box of plums and sugar
Calling Dorothy Rose a jade
Glutiny in my sickness
Peevishness with my mother
With my sister
Falling out with the servants
Divers commissions of alle my duties
Idle discourse on Thy day and at other times
Not turning nearer to Thee for my affections
Not living according to my belief
Not loving Thee for Thy self
Not loving Thee for Thy goodness to us
Not desiring Thy ordinances
Not long {longing} for Thee in {illeg}
Fearing man above Thee
Using unlawful means to bring us out of distresses
Caring for worldly things more than God
Not craving a blessing from God on our honest endeavors.
Missing chapel.
Beating Arthur Storer.
Peevishness at Master Clarks for a piece of bread and butter.
Striving to cheat with a brass halfe crowne.
Twisting a cord on Sunday morning
Reading the history of the Christian champions on Sunday
Since Whitsunday 1662
Glutony
Glutony
Using Wilfords towel to spare my own
Negligence at the chapel.
Sermons at Saint Marys (4)
Lying about a louse
Denying my chamberfellow of the knowledge of him that took him for a sot.
Neglecting to pray 3
Helping Pettit to make his water watch at 12 of the clock on Saturday night

Franklin's 13 Virtues

2012-03-12T16:31:00.001+00:00

In 1726, at the age of 20, Benjamin Franklin devised a list of 13 virtues to live by for as long as possible, in an attempt to "live without committing any fault at any time." He then focussed on one virtue each week and kept notes on his progress. He began with "Temperance."

The list read as follows.

(Source: The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin; Image: Benjamin Franklin, via.)

TEMPERANCE. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.
SILENCE. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.
ORDER. Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.
RESOLUTION. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.
FRUGALITY. Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing.
INDUSTRY. Lose no time; be always employ’d in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.
SINCERITY. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly.
JUSTICE. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.
MODERATION. Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.
CLEANLINESS. Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation.
TRANQUILLITY. Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.
CHASTITY. Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another’s peace or reputation.
HUMILITY. Imitate Jesus and Socrates.

The Bookshop

2012-03-09T15:25:00.001+00:00

Italo Calvino's 1979 book, If on a Winter's Night a Traveler, is an enchanting novel that sees you, the reader, attempting to buy and read Italo Calvino's novel, If on a Winter's Night a Traveler. In one particular passage of the story's first chapter, the following types of reading material are listed as you navigate a crowded bookshop, eager to locate Calvino's.

(This list features in the Lists of Note book, special editions of which can be purchased here. Image via MorBCN at Flickr.)

Books You Haven't Read;
Books You Needn't Read;
Books Made For Purposes Other Than Reading;
Books Read Even Before You Open Them Since They Belong To The Category Of Books Read Before Being Written;
Books That If You Had More Than One Life You Would Certainly Also Read But Unfortunately Your Days Are Numbered;
Books You Mean to Read But There Are Others You Must Read First;
Books Too Expensive Now And You'll Wait Till They're Remaindered;
Books ditto When They Come Out In Paperback;
Books You Can Borrow From Somebody;
Books That Everybody's Read So It's As If You Had Read Them, Too;
Books You've Been Planning to Read for Ages;
Books You've Been Hunting for Years Without Success;
Books Dealing With Something You're Working on at the Moment;
Books You Want to Own So They'll Be Handy Just in Case;
Books You Could Put Aside Maybe To Read This Summer;
Books You Need To Go With Other Books On Your Shelves;
Books That Fill You With Sudden, Inexplicable Curiosity, Not Easily Justified;
Books Read Long Ago Which It's Now Time To Re-read;
Books You've Always Pretended To Have Read And Now It's Time To Sit Down And Really Read Them;
New Books Whose Author Or Subject Appeals To You;
New Books By Authors Or On Subjects Not New (for you or in general);
New Books By Authors Or On Subjects Completely Unknown (at least to you)

Hemingway's Favourites

2012-03-08T16:38:00.000+00:00

In the February 1935 issue of Esquire magazine, an article by Ernest Hemingway appeared that was titled 'Remembering Shooting-Flying: A Key West Letter.' In it, Hemingway reeled off 17 books, all of which he "would rather read again for the first time [...] than have an assured income of a million dollars a year."

That list can be read below.

(Source: Esquire, Feb. 1935; Image: Ernest Hemingway, via.)

Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy
Far Away and Long Ago, by W. H. Hudson
Buddenbrooks, by Thomas Mann
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë
Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert
War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy
A Sportsman's Sketches, by Ivan Turgenev
The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Hail and Farewell, by George Moore
Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
Winesburg, Ohio, by Sherwood Anderson
La Reine Margot, by Alexandre Dumas
La Maison Tellier, by Guy de Maupassant
Le Rouge et le Noir, by Stendhal
La Chartreuse de Parme, by Stendhal
Dubliners, by James Joyce
Autobiographies, by W. B. Yeats

Orwell's Rules for Writers

2012-03-07T16:45:00.000+00:00

In 1946, George Orwell published 'Politics and the English Language,' an essay in which he criticises the bad habits of many writers and promotes the use of clear, unfussy language wherever possible. Towards the end of the essay, Orwell provides the following list of rules for writers.

(Source: Politics and the English Language; Image: Orwell at work, via.)

Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
Never use a long word where a short one will do.
If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
Never use the passive where you can use the active.
Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

The Eight Kindes of Drunkennes

2012-03-06T15:48:00.000+00:00

Back in 1592, Elizabethan satirist Thomas Nashe produced and distributed a popular pamphlet named "Pierce Pennilesse," within which was written the following — a list describing the "Eight Kindes of Drunkennes."

It seems that very little has changed.

(Source: Pierce Pennilesse.)

THE EIGHT KINDES OF DRUNKENNES

The first is ape drunke; and he leapes, and singes, and hollowes, and danceth for the heavens;

The second is lion drunke; and he flings the pots about the house, calls his hostesse whore, breakes the glasse windowes with his dagger, and is apt to quarrell with anie man that speaks to him;

The third is swine drunke; heavie, lumpish, and sleepie, and cries for a little more drinke, and a fewe more cloathes;

The fourth is sheepe drunk; wise in his conceipt, when he cannot bring foorth a right word;

The fifth is mawdlen drunke; when a fellowe will weepe for kindnes in the midst of ale, and kisse you, saying, "By God, captaine, I love thee. Goe thy wayes; thou dost not thinke so often of me as I doo thee; I would (if it pleased God) I could not love thee as well as I doo;" and then he puts his finger in his eye, and cryes;

The sixt is Martin drunke; when a man is drunke, and drinkes himselfe sober ere he stirre;

The seventh is goate drunke; when, in his drunkennes, he hath no minde but on lecherie;

The eighth is fox drunke—when he is craftie drunke, as manie of the Dutchmen bee, that will never bargaine but when they are drunke.