Purposeful Prose Advice Column: From Purple to Purposeful Figurative Language

Dear Purposeful Prose,

I love using flowing, poetic language. It’s part of my style as a writer. Because of that, I like using a lot of figurative language: metaphors, similes, personification, alliteration, anything. My beta readers don’t like this kind of language as much as I do, and they say it comes off as “stilted” and that it takes them out of the story. I thought this had to do with taste, but I asked a friend who does like poetry, and she agreed. Now, I’m questioning myself. I don’t understand how to cut back on the language without sacrificing my voice in the process. 

As an editor, I understand this kind of difficulty. If something that feels like an inherent part of your voice is disrupting engagement and your intentions as a writer, something needs to be adjusted. Consider the term, “purple prose.” When writers and editors discuss purple prose, we’re talking about overly ornate language, where the meaning of the story is lost in its figurative language or other language-based ornamentation. 

On the other hand, “de-purpling” prose is taking purple prose and making decisions about when and how certain types of figurative language can be used to good effect and what language is best simplified. Notice, I’m not telling you to take out every instance of figurative language you see in your work or to stop the practice entirely. I am telling you that figurative language has value and should be used with care.  

Consider unpacking, exactly, why you enjoy figurative or ornamental language so much outside of the sound and feeling. A lot of people admire authors who can integrate their figurative language flawlessly into their text. Every word seems to be the right word in the right place at the right time. Maybe a certain piece of figurative language resonated with you.

Next, understand that abstraction has its place. For some writers, abstraction is a part of the purpose. There are readers who are drawn to abstraction, finding that it makes characters and scenes feel more relatable. I often feel that way, and I strive to recreate that feeling when I’m making something creative. Purple prose, on the other hand, can make your writing feel inaccessible and less relatable. You’ll create distance between your story and your readership. 

In the instances that your readers said your language feels “stilted,” it’s possible that distance was the culprit. You might not feel it as easily as others will, but you do know what your intentions as a writer are. So, use that information to your advantage and do a little “translation.” 

I use this exercise when my students are given more abstract stories or passages. They’ll set aside a paragraph-length section, and they’ll “translate” it, showing what they think that the language means to say. 

Do the same thing with your work. Take a section of the story where you feel as though you’ve added a great deal of figurative or ornate language. Next, “translate” it. Tell what you meant to communicate. Then, “translate” one more time.

Here’s an example. I’m taking an excerpt from Axolotl (which happens to be a work in translation) by Julio Cortazar, and I’m only translating once because it is not my own work:

“It was their quietness that made me lean toward them fascinated the first time I saw the axolotls. Obscurely I seemed to understand their secret will, to abolish space and time with an indifferent immobility. I knew better later; the gill contraction, the tentative reckoning of the delicate feet on the stones, the abrupt swimming (some of them swim with a simple undulation of the body) proved to me that they were capable of escaping that mineral lethargy in which they spent whole hours. Above all else, their eyes obsessed me.”

Reading this, I’d say that this means: “The narrator seemed to relate to how quiet the axolotls were, and at the same time, he saw them as a secret to be figured out. While they might appear lazy at first, they’re not. There’s always something happening inside of their minds.” 

I believe that Cortazar’s prose is incredibly well-balanced, and I enjoy Paul Blackburn’s translation. However, put yourself into the position of the writer. As soon as you narrow down a piece of writing to its intentions (foundations), you can build on that with what your readers need to know in the scene. If the ornament fits, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t add it but choose your ornaments carefully. Make sure they fit the scene. 

When you are working with your own manuscript, use this exercise to start making difficult choices. I’m not telling you to painstakingly translate each paragraph of your work. Just use this as a tool to begin. You might find that some of your language doesn’t show what your readers need to know, so start there. Create a description compelling enough that you don’t need figurative language to convey the feeling. 

As it is with most things, balance is the key.

If you have a writing or editing-focused question, I would be more than happy to dedicate a post to you. Contact us with any questions you might have or to schedule a free consultation with yours truly!

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