The Book of Literary Design

43. Assemblage and Collation

Assemblage and Collation What do we mean when we speak of"assemblage and collation"? We mean the total organization of a piece ofwriting, its unification from beginning to end, the adoption and rejection of details in the best interests of consistency, the patching and tugging in of a collection ofparts which may be miscellaneous but under no circumstance should be allowed to run wild. It is a process that may be likened to the need to provide a foundation and a framework when you build a house, the need to sew and stitch up when you make a dress. When the child of promise is taught to write we should see to it that all elements are attended to properly. The emotional and intellectual matter to be presented has to be the composition's guiding intelligence, the marshalled facts must be its structural skeleton, the language and rhetoric its flesh, the verbal music its breath. When these provisions have been made it is time to consider the conflicting claims of the yellows and clotted-blood reds, the tinkle of chimes and bells, a hundred accessories to be served up or cast aside, all according to the needs of a sound interior. Such steps constitute an inviolate formula for the piecing together ofthoughts. It is not uncommon for a composition to be overburdened with branches and tributaries. To cope with tributaries it is best to trace one's way back to the source, just as in order to trim the branches one must take account of the trunk. The regimentation of the key elements is essential in the assemblage of themes and collation of lexes. All roads lead to the same home county, all reflections tend to the same conclusion. Where a mad array of arguments overgrow, you must avoid the topsy-turviness of misplacement, and the hoards of words must 158 I The Book ofLiterary Design not tangle like loose threads. Towards the sun the plant puts forth, and the shade offers shelter to what needs shelter. From beginning to end there is no break and surface and inside are indivisible. Such considerations make up the art of assemblage and collation. Painters are known to have painted each hair to the neglect of the countenance, archers take aim at a filament and miss a wall. When you are finicky with the small you overlook the large and significant. Learn therefore to shorten the inch and lengthen out the ell, give the yard its due at the expense ofthe foot. Forget the accomplishment of partial perfections, cultivate the virtue of beauty everywhere. Such strategies are necessary to the design ofthe whole composition. Writing comes in many shapes, and ideas clamour noisily for expression. When you write frugally your arguments seem orphaned, but when you adopt a style of profusion your language may break out in rebellion. Being hasty is a fault, but humming and hawing will not save a situation. We are all differently equipped and conduct our thinking differently. Some make a good start and carry it through to the end; others accomplish a foot, and then add on to it a mere inch. The ability to tum out a composition at one stroke is rare, as most of us are far more expert at tinkering. Losing sight of the central thesis leaves the composition in a chaotic state, interrupting its pulse of thought gives it hemiplegia. But if you possess first-hand knowledge of its anatomy, you will see to the free movement of its joints: everything will then be secure, like surfaces ofwood held in place by glue, like jade and jewel set together. Your four stallions for the chariot are different in strength, but the six reins are there for you to play freely upon, like the strings of a viol. The stallions drive on in a team, the hub holds the spokes together. The way to keep a tight rein on your composition is similar in kind. You must therefore follow your instinct whether you wish to ride on or stop, with longer or shorter bridles in your hands: if you will have your horses in control, begin by controlling the halters. With the writer who has mastered the art of collation strange themes can lie comfortably side by side like the liver and gall-bladder; he who is maladroit in assemblage has a way of turning two like songs into the music of northern and southern barbaries. It is common experience that improvement on a...