Syntax
When we look at syntax, we examine the length, complexity and form of sentences including their punctuation. Description of syntax might be classified in ways similar to the description of diction, formal or informal, but more often as simple, complex, convoluted, or intricate.
Hurston's folksy diction in Story in Harlem Slang is reinforced by her syntax:
"Well, all right now. He was a sealskin brown and papa-tree-top-tall. Skinny in the hips and solid built for speed."
The reader can almost see the story teller settling in to a chair after building
that coal-pot fire - kind of falling back into the softness, sighing and saying
"Well, all right now." This verbless fragment speaks volumes of
setting, but the form is short and casual. The second sentence states the
verb, "was," and is more complex having a compound predicate complement,
but still is very simple, hardly complex at all, especially when compared
with Kozol's very long, involved first sentence. The third sentence is also
a fragment borrowing its sense from the previous "He was . . ."
So a description of the syntax might be "Hurston's syntax is economical,
built on verbal, conversational clues, which build simply but tightly a picture
of her subject, 'Jelly.' His 'papa-tree-top-tall' height is accentuated by
the length of the hyphenated word/syntax. The compound character of he
is this and that and this and that reminds the reader of a fairytale form,
additive by nature, similar to the "and then, and then" formula.
The 'additive' form of the story, so far, is reinforced by the hyphenated
words and the compound predicates."
Hemingway's style, too, is additive.
"In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains. In the bed of the river there were pebbles and boulders, dry and white in the sun, and the water was clear and swiftly moving and blue in the channels. Troops went by the house and down the road and the dust they raised powdered the leaves of the trees. The trunks of the trees too were dusty and the leaves fell early that year and we saw the troops marching along the road and the dust rising and leaves, stirred by the breeze, falling and the soldiers marching and afterward the road bare and white except for the leaves."
But to a different purpose. Every detail is presented at the same level, in addition the + connects a series (2+2+3+3+4+4= x). This reporting of fact leaves the reader to draw conclusions about what is important or not important since all is presented at the same formulaic level. This additive motion creates an illusion of uniformity - perhaps suggesting troops marching in formation - though the sentences are of unequal length (26, 30, 19 and 50 words respectively).
Kozol's first sentence is complex and lengthy. It supports the idea that his will be a lengthy (book length) discussion of a complex issue:
"Many Americans who live far from our major cities and who have no firsthand knowledge of the realities to be found in urban public schools seem to have the rather vague and general impression that the great extremes of racial isolation that were matters of grave national significance some thirty-five or forty years ago have gradually but steadily diminished in more recent years." (63 words)
His first paragraph is formed by two long sentences (63 and 41 words respectively) connected by a shorter connecting, and antithetical, sentence of 19 words.
The syntax is not unfriendly, but it is not casual and familiar like that of Hurston. It presents views in an antithetical, perhaps hierarchical way, rather than an additive way. The reader could, then, guess by his syntax that Kozol will be comparing an erroneous view of schools with a 'real' view of them. "the truth, unhappily, is that the trend for well over a decade now, has been precisely the reverse [of what people think].
Kozol's sense in his first sentence is "Americans seem to have [an] impression." But through the addition of two parallel subordinate "who" clauses and two nested subordinate "that" clauses he adds the necessary complexity - grammatically - that he sees in the problem. Still, he presents what grammarians would consider to be a simple sentence, one with one subject, one verb and one direct object. So, even in simplicity, Kozol's writing seems as complex as his subject.
Another useful example of syntax comes from Jamaica Kincaid's Girl from which I quote an incomplete sentence for reasons that will soon become obvious:
"Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap; wash the color clothes on Tuesday and put them on the clothesline to dry; don't walk barehead in the hot sun; cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil; soak your little cloths right after you take them off; when buying cotton to make yourself a nice blouse, be sure that it doesn't have gum on it, because that way it won't hold up well after a wash; soak salt fish overnight before you cook it; is it true that you sing benna in Sunday school?; always eat your food in such a way that it won't turn someone else's stomach; on Sundays try to walk like a lady and not like the slut you are so bent on becoming; don't sing benna in Sunday school; you mustn't speak to wharf-rat boys, not even to give directions; don't eat fruits on the street - flies will follow you; but I don't sing benna on Sundays at all and never in Sunday school; this is how to sew on a button . . . ."
Yes, all one sentence and it goes on and on - this is less than half. And it is in the imperative voice. Commands, orders, advice, all except the question about singing benna in Sunday school and the reply later in italics. Apparently, the advice is coming so fast and furious that the girl cannot reply to the question until five segments later and is then not listened to so busy is the advice giver [her mother]. The semicolon gives the sentence structure. Even when a question is interspersed the structure remains - one of the only times I have seen a question mark followed by a semicolon! The syntax informs the meaning - it reinforces the barrage of advice some of it practical, some of it moral, some of it critical - all essential, in the opinion of the mother, to becoming a grown up woman. Even the additive nature of the syntax serves a purpose different from those of previous 'additive' pieces from Hurston and Hemingway.
