Prosaic
(pronounced proh-zey-ik)
(1)
Of writing or speaking, straightforward; matter-of-fact; lacking the feeling or
elegance of poetry.
(2) Something commonplace or dull; matter-of-fact
or unimaginative; overly
plain, simple or commonplace, to the point of being boring.
(3) Of or having the character or form of prose,
the ordinary form of spoken or written language, rather than of poetry (now of
technical use only).
1650-1660: From the fifteenth century Middle French prosaïque and directly from the sixteenth century Medieval
Latin prōsaicus (in prose), from the Classical Latin prōsa (prose), from prorsus (straightforward, in prose), from the Old Latin provorus (straight ahead), the construct
being pro-
(forward) + vorsus (turned), from vertō (to turn), from the primitive Indo-European
wer- (to turn, to bend). The original meaning was technical,
distinguishing text as prose rather than poetry and in this sense was usually
written as prosaicus (in prose). The first hints of literary hierarchy were
first noted in French in 1746 when used to contrast the “character” of prose in
contrast to the “feeling” of poetry. The
sense of describing something ordinary or mundane first seen in French in 1813,
a meaning soon adopted in English. Prosaic & prosaical are adjectives,
prosify is a verb, prosified & prosifying are verbs & adjectives, prosaicness
is a noun and prosaically is an adverb.
Figurative use of poetic & prosaic: Jaguar E-Type (XK-E, 1961-1974) (left) & Jaguar XJ-S (1975-1996) (right).
Whether Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) ever called the E-Type "the most beautiful car in the world" remains uncertain but over the decades plenty have echoed the sentiment, sometimes using the phrase "poetry in motion". By 1975, the world had changed and there were now rules with which to comply and although the XJ-S (later XJS) wasn't really a replacement for the E-Type, because of the timing, that was how it was viewed. Dynamically, it was a better car than the E-Type on about any objective measure but it certainly wasn't better looking and in contemporary reviews, the styling was sometimes described as "proasic". It might have been more accurate to use the word "pragmatic" and the lines have aged better than many at the time imagined, the car in continuous production for over twenty years and the platform endured until 2006, providing the underpinnings for the first generation of Jaguar's XK8 (1996-2005) and the Aston Martin DB7 (1997-2004), both of which looked better than the XJ-S although neither matched the timeless E-Type.
1983 Jaguar XJ-S Lynx Eventer shooting brake.
What many regard as the best-looking XJS version were the "shooting brakes" (a kind of station wagon) made by specialist coach-builders, the best-known of which was the Lynx Eventer, 67 of which were made. The critics at the time noted the rear treatment rendered a better balanced shape and much the same observation was made of the convertible versions (although not the less happy "cabriolet"). Although the pre-war shooting brakes often were built for the HFS (hunting, fishing & shooting) set who needed space for shotguns, fishing rods, hunting hounds and such, in the 1980s they emerged in the niche of the "horsey" set although there was obviously appeal for those who liked the image even if they never sat in a saddle. In naming the Eventer, Lynx may have had in mind the sport of "eventing", an equestrian event in which a a single horse and rider compete against others across the three disciplines of dressage, cross-country, and show jumping, the sport having its roots in the drills European armies conducted to ensure officers seeking a commission in the cavalry possessed the requisite skills. Eventing has a reasonably impressive death toll of both riders and beasts.
Prosaic
is an example of the figurative adoption of a word with a precise technical
meaning assuming such popularity that the original sense was effectively
lost. Once, any text not poetic was “prosaic”
(ie “written in prose”), and this description
denoted nothing negative; it was just a way of distinguishing between written
forms, reflecting prosaic’s origins in the Latin prosa (prose). However, by
the seventeen century, poetry had come to be regarded as a most superior form
of expression, considered more beautiful, imaginative, and emotional, prose relegated
to the status of the mundane and procedural.
The figurative use evolved from this and prosaic came to be used to refer to
anything thought ordinary or unimaginative including music, ideas and
architecture etc. The adjective thus
transformed into a synonym for "colorless, drab, lifeless, lacklustre, humdrum,
dull, pedestrian, unimaginative" etc and this resulted in phrases which once would have been
thought bizarre or tautological: “prosaic poetry” & “prosaic prose”. In its original technical sense (distinguishing the
style of writing used for poetry from other literature), the word is now
obsolete except for historic references and indeed, it’s now challenging to use in
the context of literature because of the implications of the modern meaning. Still, for those who wish to emphasise that some bad
texts are worse than others, the comparative
is more prosaic and the superlative, most prosaic.
Lindsay Lohan (2015) by Amber Tambling.
Actress and
author Amber Tamblyn (b 1983) solved the writer's dilemma about whether to handle
the subject of Lindsay Lohan in prose or poetry by using no text at all. The publisher HarperCollins described her
third collection Dark Sparkler (2015)
as a “…hybrid
of poetry and art exploring the lives and deaths of actresses who began their
careers as child stars.” The
book, which included original artwork by a number of artists, was well
received, critically and commercially.
The title was well-chosen because Dark
Sparkler was a catalogue of murder and suicide but what attracted much
comment was the inclusion of one living soul: Lindsay Lohan, her entry (on page
47) blank but for her name as the title.
An author’s relationship ultimately is with their readers but first it’s
with their critics and the response to that one proved it’s possible to
deconstruct text even when it doesn’t appear.
The critical reaction was something in vein taken by those who
approached John Cage’s (1912–1992) 4:33 (1952) in that, without much with which
to work, the only obvious question seemed to be “What did you mean?” Ms
Tamblyn did say she found it “upsetting” when, after reading several of the poems
dedicated to starlets who died young, she spoke the words “Lindsay Lohan” and
the audience laughed; perhaps in the age of TikTok she’d not now be surprised. She claimed the inclusion of the work in its unusual
form was not to say “you’re next” but explicitly to avoid writing anything
about a life in progress, the idea being Ms Lohan’s life was her own story to
write. Like any work of prose or poetry,
page 47 was there for people to take from it what they found.
The
Tay Bridge Disaster
William
Topaz McGonagall (circa 1825–1902) was a Scottish poet of Irish ancestry, now acknowledged
as perhaps the worst poet ever to have been published in English, a fair achievement
given the wealth of modern competition. His
best known work remains The Tay Bridge
Disaster (1880), lamenting the disaster of 28 December 1879, when, during a
severe gale, the central section of Dundee's Tay Rail Bridge collapsed, sending
to their deaths in the freezing water the 80-odd souls aboard the Wormit-Dundee
train passing at the time. Regarded at
the time as a triumph of Victorian engineering, the Tay bridge was nearly two
miles (3.2 km) long and then the longest in the world but was built with an
insufficient allowance for lateral wind-load, the structure that night succumbing
to the gale-force winds estimated at 80 mph (130 km/h / 70 knots). An enquiry was conducted and the designer,
Sir Thomas Bouch (1822-1880) (knighted by Queen Victoria in recognition of the quick
and economic construction of the bridge) was found for primarily responsible
for the disaster. He died within a year
of the collapse.
The Tay Bridge after it collapsed. Photo credit: National Library of Scotland
Whether
the The Tay Bridge Disaster can be
said to be prosaic is debatable because there are probably better adjectives
but critics have long been united that it's a very bad piece of poetry and it's
doubtful a re-rendering in prose would be much of an improvement, one writing
of it that McGonagall was “deaf to poetic
metaphor, employing inappropriate rhythms that resulted in unintentionally amusing
poetry.” Said to be wholly oblivious
to the invective almost universally directed to his oeuvre of over two-hundred
pieces of verse, his sheer awfulness and tenacity caused him to be remembered to
this day for at least something while countless poets who were merely earnest
and competent are long forgotten.
The
Tay Bridge Disaster by William McGonagall
Beautiful
Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas!
I am very sorry to say
That
ninety lives have been taken away
On
the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which
will be remember’d for a very long time.
’Twas
about seven o’clock at night,
And
the wind it blew with all its might,
And
the rain came pouring down,
And
the dark clouds seem’d to frown,
And
the Demon of the air seem’d to say-
“I’ll
blow down the Bridge of Tay.”
When
the train left Edinburgh
The
passengers’ hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But
Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which
made their hearts for to quail,
And
many of the passengers with fear did say-
“I
hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay.”
But
when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas
he did loud and angry bray,
And
shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On
the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which
will be remember’d for a very long time.
So
the train sped on with all its might,
And
Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sight,
And
the passengers’ hearts felt light,
Thinking
they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With
their friends at home they lov’d most dear,
And
wish them all a happy New Year.
So
the train mov’d slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until
it was about midway,
Then
the central girders with a crash gave way,
And
down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The
Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because
ninety lives had been taken away,
On
the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which
will be remember’d for a very long time.
As
soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The
alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And
the cry rang out all o’er the town,
Good
Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And
a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which
fill’d all the peoples hearts with sorrow,
And
made them for to turn pale,
Because
none of the passengers were sav’d to tell the tale
How
the disaster happen’d on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which
will be remember’d for a very long time.
It
must have been an awful sight,
To
witness in the dusky moonlight,
While
the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along
the Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
Oh!
ill-fated Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
I
must now conclude my lay
By
telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That
your central girders would not have given way,
At
least many sensible men do say,
Had
they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At
least many sensible men confesses,
For
the stronger we our houses do build,
The
less chance we have of being killed.
