I've been maintaining this blog (for better or for worse) over the last eight years. Over these years, its natural evolution has led it into becoming something of a niche place for discussion of music in general and Qawwali in particular. Rather than trying to return my existing blog to its pre-Qawwali eclectic roots, I decided I’d start anew on Tumblr. So if you’re interested in music, Qawwali and subcontinental culture, keep reading/listening/watching/commenting here. For all of the above and everything else under the sun, head on over to my Tumblr page .

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

....Of "The Sinews Of The Prose"

"A good historian will remember that the world is his oyster and that syllables govern the world. He will be read if he can carry the people along with him. If he has a perfect command of the language he can make the long sweep of events into a vivid, moving, pulsating piece of prose. Words should come like water bubbling from a silver jar. And each word shall take it's proper place in the sequence and order of the narration, to draw a scene, or describe the tumult of a revolution or the commotion of a riot, or emphasize the inner significance of an event, or paint the character of a personage. The vocabulary is large, felicitous and varied; and the words, particularly the adjectives and adverbs, stand at attention waiting to be summoned to duty. The sinews of the prose are supple and strong. The story spins itself out with unimpeded ease and lulling fluency. The fertility of phrase is such that veil by veil the mystery of events unwinds itself. Long sentences run with a natural effortlessness, with one clause following another in magnificent succession. The sifted purity of the prose idiom merges with the lyrical surge of argument. everything is clear, unambiguous, stark, meaningful. The reach is long, the descriptive power unruffled by the change of scene, the portrayal revealing, the analysis of motives penetrating and balanced, the impact shattering. In sum, a quick, glinting style like a stream over rocks; limpid, rapid, revealing, flashing, sparkling, hiding nothing, distorting nothing, making dulcet music out of history."

Excerpted from Prof. KK Aziz's monumental "The Murder Of History : A Critique Of History Textbooks Used In Pakistan".

No comments:

Post a Comment