Photography by my best friend
I really love it when you read a book, and your just following the story as usual and all of a sudden you come across this really long sentence. You just stare at the page a little after reading it, in silent amazement at the construction of the sentence (at least, I do) before going back and reading it again.
As you can see I am quite infatuated with long sentences. I really love them. I think they’re almost like an art. It’s really hard to write an effective long sentence, I find it difficult. You can write a long sentence but it just doesn’t have the flow and meaningfulness of those written by a pro. Mine always look like they could be separated into multiple sentences…
The best ever written, in my personal opinion, are by Charles Dickens. You come across them quite often in Classic Novels. I just finished reading Jane Eyre and there are loads of them scattered throughout the entire book. Loved it! (review coming soon!)
Here’s one you might recognise:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
A Tale of Two Cities
I could go into detail about why I love this so much but I won’t bore you. I did, however, challenge myself to write the longest sentence I could possibly manage, without it sounding too much like my thoughts on a rampage…
- When she arrived at the mansion it was cold, for winter had kicked in and the wind was blowing, moaning as it blew through the cracks in the big building, it was snowing and the snowflakes were blowing everywhere almost blinding her as she quickly put her arm over her eyes to protect them.
- The book sat on the shelf gathering dust, it had been there for ages, untouched, unloved, neglected, unpopular, uncared for, unwanted, holding words of inspiration in the delicate pages that no one had read, the title had faded on the battered and broken spine except for the letter ‘X’, which was the only clue as to what was written on the torn, worn, moth-eaten pages.
- The field went on as far as the eye could see, it was the freshest of greens that contrasted the brilliant blue sky, it gave off the feeling of freedom like a blank canvas or the white pages at the back of a book or an empty room or an unused box, the green grass was an awaiting field of emeralds whispering, “come join this freedom!”
The last one is my personal favourite out of the three.
Do you have a favourite long sentence from a novel?
~The World is Quiet Here~