Hello, I'm trying to write about a lady violinist. As she was playing, a few strands fell over her forehead and gently waved. How would you describe it? Here's my initial go: Her fine hair was swept back in a bun, but some fugitive strands of hair fell down over her forehead and gently danced in tune with her skilled fingers. I know one can do a lot better here!
Try something akin to pieces of grass or straw waving in rhythmic wind, but make it not shit like I just did.
Since I am not a native speaker, it's a bit hard for me to use such metaphors. Could you kindly write down a full sentence?
A few strands of stray hair fell down over her forehead. Like straws in a rhythmic wind, they waved to the ire of her playing.
A violin bow is wont to fray during heavy use. That's what I would use to describe the hair, to make the description part and parcel with the context. "Notes like love and disaster came from her violin. It sang, it sobbed. Three stray hairs gave up the ghost and fluttered across her forehead, silent allies to those strung taught in the bow that made such sweet passion with the strings." (example)
My question is, would you really notice her strands of hair "waving" if you're supposed to be enraptured by her music? Drawing attention to unnecessary details can break the spell you're trying to cast in an attempt to paint a more concrete image - when a concrete image is not needed. I'd sooner describe the passion with which she moved, her eyes squeezed shut, the power of the bow, the way it slashes down as she drew each sharp note. I really don't think I'd be bothering with strands of stray hair, and your reader does not need to know this specific to get a feeling for the music and its emotion. In any case, any attempt at saying strands of hair "waved" just makes me think of them as coming to life and literally waving, which is rather comical. Please don't use "waved". I'd sooner go for "drifted" or "swayed". But this physical detail isn't significant enough to warrant such deliberate personification, and a whole sentence at that! How important is this hair!? Is it a character? Attempt it for the sake of practice, but I'd say it's rather unnecessary in general.
"Her fine hair was swept back in a bun, but some fugitive strands of hair fell down over her forehead and gently danced in tune with her skilled fingers." suggestion: "a few wisps of her fine hair fell across her forehead, shaken free from her bun, to dance in tune with her skilled fingers." Personally, i think words are like art and each individual writer has their own way of making art. If your original description is distinctly you (stylistically), then go for it
Great as always. I don't quite understand this part: silent allies to those strung taught in the bow that made such sweet passion with the strings." What do you mean by strung taught?
I see your point. But I am practicing here. In a certain context, I might need to focus on her hair. I like your ideas: I'd sooner describe the passion with which she moved, her eyes squeezed shut, the power of the bow, the way it slashes down as she drew each sharp note. Would you please put down a whole sentence together. I am really curious to see how you would put it.
Thanks. But those strands of hair do not come from her bun. They come from the front of her head. I like shaken free!
A violin bow is made of a wooden frame and a bundle of horsehair that is strung taut* within the frame via the frog, the part that holds the horsehair at the bottom. The horsehair is what rubs against the violin strings to produce the notes. I am likening her to the violin bow, which often releases stray broken horsehairs as the violinist plays, thus she is the bow and makes the music. *If it's the word taut itself that's opaque, it means stretched tightly, but where tight is a very general-purpose descriptor, taut is more specific, like the string of a hunting bow. It's very taut, not loose.
Thanks. Now I get it and I like it a lot. You gave me an idea! Imagine she was wearing her hair in a ponytail, just like a horse's tail. Could we mention those two and relate them? How would you go about doing that? I think it would be really nice to mention ponytail and horse's hair on the bow and make a connection between them.
*shrug* I'm having a hard time drawing a similar metaphor. As @Mckk mentioned above, this kind of descriptive detail needs a motor, a reason to drive it onto the page, otherwise it becomes indulgent. Indulgence has its place, especially in writing exercises. Most of the descriptions I've given you in these threads are saturated and rather over the top, and I'm well aware of the fact. In my own live prose, most of those would be pared back. As is, they are quintessentially the darlings of which we are warned, but I like these exercises because I think it's important to embrace the absurd, the wild, the lush, to explore narratively exotic prose in order to get a level of comfort with it, to be able to bring some of it back to our real work where it can be used to best effect. I say that because in your question you mention invoking both things. I would keep it to just the one, though I cannot think of an alternate where the ponytail is mentioned instead.
I see your point. Right now, I'm like a kid and words and expressions are my toys. I really enjoy playing with them, while at the same time I am cognizant of the fact that using too much of those metaphors and expressions can make writing needlessly ostentatious. But if you were to mention ponytail and horse tail of the bow, how would you do it? For the sake of practicing.
Yes, drawing a metaphor between horse's hair in the bow and a ponytail is too much, however this discussion of horse's hair and frogs in a violin bow does suggest a joke: How is a violin bow like a zoo...? Ok, never mind. Even that is 'stretching it' a bit too tautly. Ha ha! Oh boy, I need to quit...
It can't be done successfully at all. There are too many layers of metaphor, you'd have to mention that the bow uses horsehair and she has a ponytail, and then suggest that somehow that's a connection. That takes too much explanation. A metaphor is like a joke—if it needs explanation it's no good. I think the only way it can be used at all is the way Wrey did, through subtle suggestion. That way it creates the idea in the reader's head and they come up with a metaphor themselves, the way you did when you read it.
Depends on the melody being played and what atmosphere I'm going for. She drew her bow down slowly, the strings trembling as the music flew free. Like a breath. She shook her head with the movement of the bow, as if denying the grief in the music for fear of being consumed by the force. But the tightness of her lips, the furrow in her brow, said it all. Music had her soul and her entire body swayed with it, so that it was no longer clear if she moved with the music or if the music moved her. Her silken dress glimmered in the light, a feeble attempt to wake the audience from their trance lest they were consumed too by the melody, but all it did was add to the magic of the stage. She stood, a vessel, beautiful because with every note, she decreased as the music increased, until she all but disappeared, and all there was, was music. She was music. Another way could be: Her foot stamped, stabbing the heel into the stage as the strings sang, her bow slashing down. Her eyes blazed and she opened her mouth as if to sing, but her voice came out in the violin, peal after peal of thunderous song released with every move. Pleasure and victory curved the corners of her opened mouth, her nostrils flaring with the need to dance. She was a mare that could not be contained, her hair whipping back as she pulled on the bow and swung her head back with it, her lithe body going taut. It was as if music allowed her to truly breathe, to speak without words, to feel the life in her reverberate. Then her eyes closed, her face tilted heavenward and the bow drew into the sky, flinging the note high. The world came to a standstill, waiting for the note to fall. The lights went out. Applause erupted.
I love this forum. And I love all of you who contribute to this forum with your gorgeous words and enrich it!
What makes the observer pay attention to that hair? Does it distract from the music? Does it add to the music? Think about this from the perspective of the POV onlooker. If you were watching a performance, engrossed in the music, what would your reaction be to that hair? Or are you more engrossed in the performer? Myself? If I was engrossed in the music, I'd be inclined to shut my eyes, so a bobbing hair wouldn't distract me—music, after all, is to be listened to, not watched. You wouldn't notice a bobbing hair if you were listening to a CD, would you? That's pure music. On the other hand, if I had a crush on that musician, I'd be thinking, 'awwww...that's so endearing...she doesn't even notice her hair is coming undone, and it's even keeping time to the music because she's so focused ...awwww....' It's just a preference of mine, but I'd say don't get too caught up in wordplay. Instead, focus on what you want the words to convey. It's the idea that counts, really. In my opinion. Fancy descriptive writing may elicit gasps of awe, but it's also likely to shake the onlooker away from the story ...at least temporarily. I've said it before, but I reckon good writing is like good driving. You don't notice the good driving; you just settle back and enjoy the ride.
Unless you describe her movements as a sort of visual embodiment of the music, like the way Mckk did above, in which case the fluttering or drifting of the hair might act as a subtle countercurrent to the major motions, similar to the way a certain subtle trill of the violin might move momentarily against the stronger currents of the orchestral piece itself—a little swirl or eddy on the outskirts of the more powerful main movement. But for this to work you'd have to spend some time describing the music itself in metaphorical terms (as Mckk has done). But again, as I said about the horsehair/ponytail metaphor above, I don't think I'd be too literal with it or try to draw a straight one-on-one comparison ("The loose strands of hair drifted airily the way the notes of the violin did..."). That feels too direct, too concrete and would work against the much more poetic language.