Falsifiable Subjectivity

Frankfurt imitation assignment (essay 2) Final Draft

First Section

To emphasize the importance of writing too much would be impossible. Writing is the DNA of our world, recording all profound ideologies, the account of the best and worst from our human innovation. Writing facilitates much of our world as it stands today, for example, historical texts preach to us to avoid previous mistakes. Prophets have written divinely inspired texts to help us understand God further. Laws are written to help regulate a civilized decorum that makes society functional, and the likes of many more essentialities. It is reasonable to assume the usefulness of writing is really limitless and our dependence on it is truly indefinite.

But what lies at the heart of writing? What is it that makes it so effective? Many scholars have scrutinized various texts to identify the flawless formula that constructs effective literature, but this venture is futile, because the heart of writing is not a tangible or palpable thing. It is more of an essence, some kind of mysterious apparition that is subtly empowering to any noteworthy literature in our past. This feature is known as voice, and it thunderously echoes as the most vital centerpiece of all writing.

                Now that we know the importance of voice, how do we best describe what it is? Unfortunately, like many things, there is certain subjectivity to its understanding, and in this case it is a conclusion that is dichotomously interpreted. Some believe voice to be the content of the literature, while others inveigh such ideas and exclaim style to be the embodiment of “voice.” I think it is a shame to pick between these two dynamics of literature, because they both lend themselves well to the recipe of effective writing, but for the sake of this imitation exercise I am about to embark upon, they cannot be combined in the search for the definition of “voice.”

                When debating these issues with myself, I must say that I wavered on the fence for a significant amount of time, and I still can see the plausibility to awarding both with the title of “voice,” but I think I came to a reasonable conclusion nonetheless. I believe that substance, the content of the paper, is indeed a more accurate description of what “voice” truly is.

                It is easy for me to make this distinction by understanding what style means to me, because it seems that it is little more than an artistic twist created to give writing an improved sense of individuality. Style is certainly indispensible in the formulation of good writing, but it is not entirely essential to voice.

The reason why I believe so firmly in “content” is because I look at the word “voice” carefully, it is a means of communication. People use their voices so they will garner an understanding of each other and their position on things, whether it is making multi-million dollar stock market decisions in a business meeting or one neighbor informing another that they can’t come over for dinner tomorrow night. I don’t think this same precedent should deviate from what we expect in writing, if I want to hear your “voice” about something, it is unlikely that I will put a lot of merit into the stylistic fashion you use, but more so the message you are corresponding to me. If I want you to individualistically express yourself, then I will ask for art, but if I ask for your “voice,” than means I want your opinion. Art and opinion are definitely not the same thing; art is a free expression that doesn’t necessarily need to reflect the beliefs of the artist. However, “opinion” is the substance behind any articulation of words, the message behind the “voice,” whether it is delicate or boisterous.

I understand that it is difficult to establish something like this as black and white, and I think in order to be intellectually honest it is important to consider the gray in these areas, but I would argue that the gray does not make a fundamental difference when pertaining to voice. What I mean by this is, voice certainly can have some style, and often times does, because it is usually instigated in pieces of literature in order to make them more alluring and appealing to readers, but it is NOT necessary. An article can have voice and also can abound with some of the most eloquent Shakespearean styles ever read, but if you stripped it all away the message would be unchanged. Perhaps the appeal would be drastically inhibited, but the message would not be altered. Maybe this example will help explain, say you have an engineer who speaks in English and an engineer who speaks in French, and imagine that they both have similar ground breaking ideas in the field of physics, so they both write dissertations about it. If someone is bilingual in these two respected languages, which are stylistically dissimilar in syntax, they will find that the content is the same even though the way it is communicated is severely different, thus excluding style from what “voice” really is.  

Well I suppose that is enough talk and it is time to actually back up my ideas, so I will now do a writing exercise regarding voice. This will involve me imitating Harry Frankfurt in his book “On Truth,” it is an excerpt about what he thinks love is. I will be imitating his thoughts (content) in my own style.

Second Section (imitation of Frankfurt)

Joy and love coincide reasonably, but they are not necessarily all encompassing to each other. I say this disagreeing somewhat with Spinoza’s interpretation (justifiably so I like to think). Love goes beyond emotionality and high sensations; it is a submissive sacrifice for those who are receiving it. This can be understood though Christian principles (as well as other beliefs as well), that love goes beyond the inherently selfish needs that are inevitably experienced by the one that loves, and more so establishes itself as a inexorable precedent to live by, to humbly place others before yourself. This may be comparable to, and better understood by, the story of Jesus Christ according to the scriptures. He selflessly allowed himself to be put to death, in order to meet the eternal needs of his earthy brethren (which are to become the necessary sacrifice for the atonement of sins).

This is what I understand love to be, though it is difficult to make this ancient story applicable to the modern and tangible reality of the present time, even if paradigmatic execution is plausible, it is easier to acknowledge one’s limited capacity to love. The simplest rule that seems feasible to instigate is, “one only truly loves when they are willing to neglect their own interests for the sake of those he loves. This propensity of love would be idealistically unconditional, but human nature, in its innately self absorbed state, will more likely be regularly underachieving and rarely meeting expectations.

Third Section

I have an unfortunate feeling that this exercise did not accomplish what it was intended to in my writing understanding. My opinion about “voice” did not wildly change by any means, and I think that this exercise might have been more successful with other writers. However, there were a few things to salvage from this activity, because I think that some of my horizons expanded at least to an extent that is measurable.

The imitation exercise did reveal to me some things regarding voice in literature, it especially taught me an effective way of gaining perspective through doing an imitative exercise. In my case I imitated Harry G. Frankfurt, who wrote an excerpt on love in his book “On Truth,” which I very cautiously attempted to imitate. I emulated his writing style, but I implemented my own ideals about love into the passage. There are many ground breaking things that I realized through this exercise, both significant and subtle things that will certainly improve my skills as a writer.

First of all this exercise gave me some perspective on the artistry of a different writing style, Frankfurt is a very skilled writer with an extensive vocabulary, but uses all of his words quite intentionally in this passage in his book that created a unique “voice.” I found it difficult to emulate such skilled writing, but after some failed attempts in my first few sentences, I found myself building a little momentum that turned into some kind of writing rhythm that seemed exceedingly advanced in comparison with my basic skills. Altogether, it seemed like a very fruitful and productive exercise, and I think I might try it again with some other authors.

I don’t know if the exercise necessarily changed my perspective on what I believed “voice” to be, but it certainly opened my mind to consider the role style plays in “voice.” It really seemed that, just through the way Frankfurt was articulating his analysis of love, that his style played a larger factor in the resonance of his voice than I had anticipated. I felt that comparing mine to his was probably some verifiable evidence of this, because the soothing flow and authoritative “voice” of his work seems to demand more respect than my own writing, which could probably use some fine tuning. Altogether this is a seemingly minuscule discovery, but these kinds of things are important to acknowledge about “voice.”

I say these things not to communicate any new found belief about “voice,” because I still believe that content defines “voice,” but I see that an artistic form of style is pivotal in order for a particular “voice” to garner recognition. A marvelous stylization is an effective tool for attaining respect and notification, but it is not inexorably part of the dynamic construction of “voice.” Even though I did have some trouble emulating Frankfurt, I think that my imitation is impeccable evidence that supports my definition of “voice.” I think that I was able to use his language successfully as I painted a different picture of love. Grammar, syntax, and vocabulary were at least fairly similar in both of our excerpts, but our contrasting messages created fundamental differences in our writing, which establishes our content as the primary indicator of our individualized “voice.”

Altogether I still believe that that “voice” is what I initially said it was. It is the message, given in a fashion that is not euphemized, but straight forward in the presentation that the author selected. Style can be meaningful, just as it was when I imitated Frankfurt, but it is not necessarily elemental to “voice,” which is illustrated through the content of the passage.