Forensic Linguistics

Pencillist struck again.

Struck?

Leaving a comment on the pencil case blog, July 6. Every time I write something about pencils, out he pops. Leaves a comment signing himself only as “Pencillist.”

Is it someone you know?

Narrowed it down to two people. One is an elderly Brit living in Cumberland who never seems to know where he is, the other is a Paraguayan financier who never seems sure of who he is. Oddly, they both write in the same style.

And those stylistic features are…?

Sort of a cross between the forthright haughtiness of the Economist and the sprawling sentences of Bulwer-Lytton. Pithy aphorisms punctuating extended post-nominal modifications.

A lot write like that.

Sure. However, the last comment made me quite sure it was either the Brit or the Paraguayan. It opens with an ironic evaluation “At last…” and moves towards a disapproving “Disappointingly…” I know strong feelings drive both of these characters through their lives and this pervades their prose. Then there’s the three word closing. “Good goat though.” They both have a particular penchant for this pattern. I often find in their emails three word sentences like “Obvious from context,” or “Depends on perspective.”

And is the goat a red herring?

Like a wild sheep chase? Puzzle. In the end, it's still a toss-up between the Leicester in the Lake District or the Perendale in Paraguay.

What Pencillist said...

"At last a posting about something serious. Most people take pencils and what to put them in far too lightly. Then there is the question of what to put in pencils. Recently I was intrigued by the heading "Goat in pencil" and rushed off into cyberspace to find out if this was anything like passing a camel through the eye of a needle. Disappointingly it turned out to be some watercolourist called Tracy drawing a goat in pencil. Good goat though."

...

Edward Said

I started a book on the train tonight. "On Late Style."

The late Edward Said? His last book? Why'd you pick that one? Not an easy read for the ride home.

The title intrigued me.

Juxtapositions again? Late and style? What does it mean?

Something about how a writer or a musician treats their material when they know they're going to die.

There's no time left so they need to hurry to finish their life's work?

Time's running out, yes. But there's also the pulling everything together. The synthesis.

Tidying up? Summarising? Concluding?

He touches on Beethoven, Glenn Gould, some achieve a serene harmony. Others, like Ibsen, get angry or confuse us.

Like Monet's muddy waterlilies?

Said was one who stayed serene. His illness focused his writing. It's a good read.
...