perchance within the realm of thought heretofore gone unmentioned but not unremarked upon, thusly, to say:
what
In the era of classical and early modern literature, it was not uncommon to encounter sentences that unfurled like intricate tapestries, woven with clauses, phrases, and asides that nested within each other like Russian dolls, each turn and twist of syntax guiding the reader through complex arguments and detailed narratives, and this penchant for prolixity, this delight in the elaborate and the exhaustive, was not merely a stylistic choice but a reflection of the times, for in an age when books were scarce, and reading was a leisure pursued by the few, each sentence had to carry the weight of a paragraph, each paragraph the substance of a chapter, with authors like Henry James and Marcel Proust spinning sentences that stretched over pages, their clauses strung together with a maze of commas, semicolons, and dashes, leading the reader through convoluted paths of thought and emotion, and this style, this grandiloquent mode of expression, served not only to demonstrate the writer's mastery over language but also to engage the reader's attention and intellect in an intimate dance of comprehension and reflection, whereas today, in the digital age, where information bombards us from screens of all sizes, where the pace of life has accelerated and attention spans have shortened, writing has adapted to this new reality, becoming more direct, more concise, more fragmented, mirroring the rapid-fire exchange of texts and tweets, favoring clarity and brevity over complexity and depth, a shift that reflects not a degradation of language but an adaptation to the changing modes of communication and consumption, a reflection of our times where efficiency is prized over eloquence, where readers no longer have the luxury of languishing over lengthy sentences but instead demand quick, accessible information, leading to a landscape of writing that values the punchy over the ponderous, the succinct over the sprawling, a trend that, while lamented by some as the downfall of literature, is merely the latest evolution in the ever-changing story of language and expression, demonstrating once again that writing, like all forms of art, is a mirror to the society and the times in which it is produced.
10 words per predicate in the first data point seems crazy, how are you beating around the bush so hard?
Anybody know why? Are we getting more specific vocabulary, longer paragraphs, or simpler ideas?
We just use periods to end thoughts more often.
Older sentence structures would be called "run-on" nowadays because they skipped opportunities to wrap up the thought with a period and instead just kept going and going and going.
This means even Hegel was like "Damn, these 1550s mfs are wordy"
damn imagine saying "what's up" to a 1550s mf and getting a 63-word sentence in response
Okay, but what happens to the graph in 2019, when Lucy Ellmann's Ducks, Newburyport was published?
