32 pages • 1 hour read
LonginusOn the Sublime
Nonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 100A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Chapters 39-44Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Chapters 39-44 Summary
The last element that contributes to greatness in writing is word arrangement. The principle governing good word arrangement is the “sense of melody” that Longinus claims is “inborn in man,” allied with a “free flow of passion” (51). Longinus’s own lyrical, eloquent word order illustrates the literary passion that good writing can pass from the writer to the audience:
Does not the music of the flute stir the emotions of an audience, take them out of themselves, fill them with Corybantic frenzy, and by its rhythmic beat compel him who hears it to step to its rhythm and identify himself with its tune…? (51).
Word arrangement is “the music of rational speech” (51) that appeals both to the ear and to the mind. A well-constructed prose sentence has a compelling rhythm, much like meter in poetry. A writer may use commonplace words, yet by skillful arrangement they take on a “dignity” and “distinction” so as to seem out of the ordinary.
Word arrangement is related to the larger element of structure. Structure gives “dignity” to writing. Each constitutive element in a piece of writing gains power and significance by being effectively arranged as a part of a whole, Longinus compares the elements of a well-structured text to the way the parts of the body work together.
Pacing, or the speed at which ideas progress, also determines structure and word arrangement. For instance, a writer may arrange words in a way that forces the reader to pause between them, slowing down the prose rhythm. Longinus refers to this slowing effect as “stable, wide-stepping grandeur” (53). Conversely, the writer may choose light, short words that produce a faster, more urgent pace.
Longinus criticizes word arrangements that are monotonous and resemble the rhythms of dance, because they lack the rise and fall of passion that great prose should have. They detract attention away from what the writer is saying to the rhythms themselves. Another faulty practice is to use language that is “excessively concise,” consisting in “small bits of sentences” that “break the sequence of thought” (54). This is different from true brevity, which “goes straight to the point” (54). “Prolixity,” or overlong writing, is equally undesirable.
In the final chapter, Longinus considers the impact that freedom and democracy have on verbal eloquence. A philosopher friend of his has lamented the decline of literary genius and attributes this phenomenon to the weakening of freedom in society. Longinus replies that the real root of the problem is not in society but in our souls. We are slaves to pleasure and money, and this leads to selfishness and vanity. Little by little, “great qualities of soul wither” (58), and people are no longer able to judge what is “right and beautiful” (58). When human beings have been corrupted in this way, it might be a blessing that they are not free from social constraints, because they would do much more damage if they were.
Chapters 39-44 Analysis
For Longinus, choosing the right words and phrases is not enough; one must also consider the order in which they are placed and the precise succession of images, ideas, and sounds the reader receives. In Longinus’s era, oratory was highly prized and literature was usually recited rather than read silently. The sound of writing had great importance. The musicality of prose, how it strikes the ear, determines the degree to which we are led to share the “passion” of the writer.
This section reflects the importance Greek culture placed on poetry, with its carefully classified meters and rhythms. Longinus’s discussion of poetic meters implies that rhythmic considerations should apply to prose as well. He demonstrates that altering a good prose sentence by even one syllable changes its effect, and goes on to point out the importance of order and emphasis at every scale of writing: from the syllable, to the sentence, to the structure and pacing of a text.
Though Longinus’s prescriptions stem from Greek cultures of reading, writing, and performing texts out loud, many of his rules are similar to those found in writing guides today, such as The Elements of Style by Strunk and White. Like Longinus, these guides caution against excessive wordiness and urge writers to produce simple, compact sentences. Some of Longinus’s values—like aesthetic rule-following and imitating great authors—no longer match dominant Western ideas about how great writing is made. In this section, however, we see continuity over hundreds of years in values like effective sentence length (not too short, not too long) and variation (alternating multiple rhythms to keep readers engaged).
Longinus wants great writing to be appreciated for its beauty, but also insists that beautiful word arrangement serves a higher social purpose. Prose should not only make rational sense; it should have a good aesthetic sense as well. Indeed, Longinus argues that good prose should cast a spell on the reader or hearer, similar to the power of music. It should evoke “a variety of words, thoughts, events, and beautiful melodies” (51), and should mold our souls morally by means of its beauty.
The final chapter of On the Sublime differs in tone and content from the preceding chapters. It deals philosophically with the relationship between freedom and artistic genius. Longinus’s main point is that social and moral freedom is necessary for literary genius to flourish. Longinus’s philosopher friend calls freedom “the most beautiful and most creative spring of language” (57). In the final lines of the text, the treatise shifts to the topic of emotion in writing, and promises more to come.
