Disorder Is Desire

The Language of Influence

While going through the archives of William Gibson's blog this morning, presently devoted to the presentation of work in progress, I found this very amusing entry I'd previously overlooked:

Friday, September 09, 2005 posted 11:15 PM

I was looking through a list of women's names today, Dutch, all prior to the year 1100:

Clodauuiua
Clotrada
Crapahildis
Cunegundis

Once you see the name Crapahildis it sort of sticks with you, doesn't it? And think of all the men who cried out "Clodauuiua!" with utmost longing.

I can't help but think of the song "Glitter and Be Gay" from Leonard Bernstein's Candide.

Lagniappe

I love injury time. It's the Junior Mint that miraculously appears at the bottom of what seemed like an empty carton.

Writing It Up

It's instructive to compare the story of a World Cup match written with an American audience in mind with the report written for English-speaking football fans who have a firm grasp on the game. Take the two accounts of today's excellent Germany-Poland match. The AP wire story follows the conventions of American sportswriting, as its opening two paragraphs indicate:

Shot after shot was turned away by Poland's goalkeeper and the crossbar. Germany kept firing and got the payoff just in time Wednesday night.

Substitute Oliver Neuville scored on a sliding kick off a brilliant cross from another sub, David Odonkor, in injury time and Germany edged Poland 1-0. The hosts, with a man advantage for the final 15 minutes, controlled the action, only to be frustrated by Artur Borac, who made a handful of spectacular saves.

I generally like this approach, having absorbed it on a near-daily basis since I first learned to read. But it doesn't captivate me when applied to soccer. I keep getting the feeling that the author is translating the narrative of a baseball game into soccer terms instead of writing in a way that captures the latter's special qualities.

The match report, on the other hand, baffles me sometimes at the level of the sentence. It's not as bad as reading the write-up of a cricket test match or a rugby contest, but I still feel like a foreigner within that idiom. It's a welcome sensation, however, since it helps me to get caught up in the excitement of the action in a way that the American version does not:

Poland were reduced to 10 men in the 75th when Sobolewski picked up his second yellow card after halting a Klose breakaway.

Germany, now in complete control, then warmed up for a spectacular finish.

Lahm forced Boruc into a brilliant save following a mazy dribble from the left before the Celtic goalkeeper got a hand to Neuville's shot, after substitute Tim Borowski had set him up.

Germany then twice hit the bar twice in as many seconds - Klose heading a Lahm cross against the woodwork before Ballack again found the frame with his close-range follow-up.

But the substitutions eventually paid for Klinsmann in added time.

Odonkor burst down the right flank, with Neuville - who replaced Podolski in the 71st minute - sweeping his low cross home from close range to spark celebrations among the home crowd.

I never would have used the word "mazy" in a sports context before reading this, but I love the way it pins down the play in question. I'm sure a lot of my delight comes from reading a British writer, but I'll take the happy estrangement regardless.