WRITING WITH ELOQUENCE
This Simple Writing Technique Is the Most Powerful and Persuasive Device
But it will get your knuckles rapped by your grammar checker
It is absurdly easy to use.
It is absurdly easy to pick some words.
It is absurdly easy to repeat those words.
Start any three sentences with the same word(s) and Grammarly, ProWritingAid, or whatever grammar checker you use, will scream at you to change them.
Grammar checkers
Grammar checkers use algorithms that are programmed to highlight your mistakes and urge you to rid them from your writing.
I use ProWritingAid and when I repeat the same word at the start of successive sentences, I get this warning:
“You have started 3 sentences in a row with the same word. This can lead to boring writing. We suggest you restructure your sentences to make them more engaging.”
Be careful.
“You’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t.” — Eleanor Roosevelt
Writers, and especially speechmakers, are adept at using this writing technique to elicit emotion. It’s called anaphora.
Anaphora
Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. By using anaphora, writers can emphasise, convey, and reinforce meaning in their writing.
The ProWritingAid algorithm is, of course, correct.
I put on my shoes. I put on my hat. I put on the kettle. Then I made a cup of tea.
Is about as interesting as watching artificial grass grow.
But in the right hands, anaphora is lyrical, artistic, and memorable. In the same way that listeners remember musical refrains, readers often remember passages with anaphora.
Using anaphora in his song, Wonderful World, Sam Cooke elevates his love by accentuating his ambivalence towards his education:
“Don’t know much about history,
Don’t know much biology.
Don’t know much about a science book,
Don’t know much about the French I took.
But I do know that I love you,
And I know that if you love me, too,
What a wonderful world this would be”
Anaphora’s beauty lies in the way it leverages the simple mechanical component of rhythm to enhance the audience’s attention.
Through anaphora (and rhyme) the Police’s 80s hit, Every Breath You Take, captures the listener’s attention. It’s easy to anticipate what’s coming next, and he lulls us into thinking this is a love song.
“Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I’ll be watching you.”
The anaphora hides the truth — his sinister obsession with his ex-lover.
The technique has been around for a long time. A Tale of Two Cities was first published in 1859 and the opening sentence uses anaphora.
“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 …” — Charles Dickens.
You may not recall the whole passage, but it is a perfect example of anaphora and unmistakably Dickens.
Anyone can do it
If you are writing a letter. If you writing a blog. If you are writing a bestselling novel. Anyone can start a series of sentences with the same word(s).
How hard is it to use? How hard is it to pick some words? How hard is it to repeat them?
It is as easy as picking your nose. It is as easy as scratching your backside. It is as easy as…
I could continue, but that would be dangerous.
Balance
There is a delicate balance. Anaphora can be offputting for the reader if it is forced or doesn’t fit with the writing. There is a time and a place for it — almost as if it is too powerful to be used too often and in too many ways.
What would you cut from the last sentence?
Using anaphora can help a writer communicate clearly and reinforce meaning in their work. It can grab the reader and heighten their enjoyment.
Be bold. Be brief. Be gone.
The power of anaphora
Famous examples of anaphora include:
“I came, I saw, I conquered.” — Julius Caesar
“Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” — John F. Kennedy
“… We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields and in the streets. We shall fight in the hills.” — Winston Churchill
In the latter example, Winston Churchill trumpets his words. He is speaking as one would if trying to motivate the horsemen in the Charge of the Light Brigade (a tragic military action).
In his speech to parliament on 4 June 1940, Churchill finishes with this:
“We shall never surrender.”
His address describes defeat. But that is not what people hear. With his words, Churchill stuck a bomb under Britain’s backside. The country rallies — they only hear ‘We shall fight.’
It’s simple. It’s layered. It’s stirring.
That is the power of anaphora.