Persuasion!

Reading through the first section of the Communist Manifesto, I was reminded of the kind of writing we have always been taught is "good" writing. For instance, the way that each paragraph begins with a "new" idea that takes up the rest of the paragraph is a true mark of the organization that teachers want students to have when writing a persuasive essay, or something like it. What happens is, I think, the completion of one single thought before heading on to the next makes it read more like a text book, which devotes a certain amount of space to the entirety of a concept or event, and then moves on to what is chronologically next. Text books, often times, are historical, well-documented, and irrefutable. In having an manifesto feel as thorough and accurate as a text book, Marx makes it easier for readers to understand that his arguments are crucial, honest, and incontestable.

As far as persuasion is concerned, the language--in addition to the organization--is easily digested, though not colloquial or even the language of the bourgeoisie. It's actually written in a high, technical style. Robin mentioned two separate times in class that those writing in a high style are often untrustworthy, and perhaps manipulative. It's a curious issue, because as far as communism is concerned, there is always a severe imbalance/gaping black hole between dictators and the rest of society, so it's very telling that the philosopher who is writing on behalf of the proletariat isn't writing like the proletariat. Instead, it would seem he's writing for highly ranked intellectuals.

However, some of his diction, while accessible on the whole, has a universal appeal. He writes:

"The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his "natural superiors", and has left no other nexus between people than naked self-interest, than callous "cash payment". It has drowned out the most heavenly ecstacies of religious fervor, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom -- Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation."

In this moment, Marx makes use of the ever-effective listing method. Most notably, in the pairings of "religious fervor, chivalrous enthusiasm, philistine sentimentalism," it's as if he's creating compound words out of these virtuous cliches. His topic sentence is mildly suspensive, and takes the time to break up the thought with a qualifying phrase ("wherever it has got the upper hand") that actually does use the language of the people. He also uses scientific, clinical diction that could perhaps be used to describe natural or technological disasters, i.e. "the icy water of egotistical calculation," "It has drowned out the most heavenly ecstacies," "substituted naked," and so forth. The final line is kind of a gut wrenching, with his piling on the adjectives, "naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation." It's moments like these in the manifesto when it's most clear how he gets across to his readers. They're perfectly apt, punchy words that accurately get at the notion of exploitation in their society.

Looking at the excerpt from David Foster Wallace's "Brief Interviews with Hideous Men," we can see how DFW expresses the futility of words and language, nowadays, in portraying a romantic connection. He doesn't quite lay out the courting process like Jane Austen would, but instead seems to say, "You've heard this before, haven't you? I'll spare you." He's saving us a lot of time on the matter, using images like, "with the very same twist on their faces" to perhaps tell (not show) us that they had some kind of familiar facial glow or contrived facade that we've seen before (maybe in the movies?) and don't need to see again. For DFW, a face with a "twist" is more readily recognized (or subjectively interpreted) by the reader. His final sentence, frustratingly, amounts the whole paragraph to a kind of slaughtering of regular language. It's incredibly perceptive to human experience because we've all had moments in which words sound weird because we've said or thought about them so much. It's like saying your name over and over again until it feels foreign, ugly, and uncomfortable. Again, he's getting at the futility of words, both in experiencing a familiar story, and in writing it down.