Bibliographica Impenetranda

'Get stewed' said Philip Larkin, 'books are a load of crap'. He was, up to a point, right. Broadly speaking the only hobby more likely to waste your time, scarify your liver, retard your career, stunt your social powers and atrophy your pudenda than the reading of novels is the writing of them. There are however two parts of every novel which are both fun to read and to write. I refer, of course, to the blurb and the first sentence. Generally a quick glance at these two bits of prose will see you through all but the most protracted lavatorial visits, and arm you with enough information to claim to have read the book in social situations. (This may not suffice in the case of 'the classics' which many people were forced to read at school. Don't panic, it is no coincidence that these very same 'classics' are the ones with helpful little introductions at the start. Don't, for the love of God, confuse this introduction with the Author's Foreword, which is even more boring and pointless than the novel itself.) So, I have devoted my not inconsiderable free time to crafting a series of first lines for your enjoyment. A selection of gripping and informative blurbs is sure to follow.

Firstly let us consider some antiquated styles of opening sentance, popular in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but outclassed by the sleeker and higher powered openings of today.

The Locational Opening - 'Rumsfield House lay quiet as the dawn broke/sun set (it doesn't matter what the sun is doing, as long as it is doing something) behind its high roofs.' For this type of opening you will need a stately home. The sun also does these things behind Watford services, but no novel will come out of that.


The Geographical opening - 'The village of X lies in the county of Y on the north side of the river Z, surrounded by the forest of J.' This sort of opening will continue with a local squire adopting the son or daughter of a washerwoman (also local) and will play out in rollicking, picturesque form.

The Biographical opening - 'I was born in the village of X, which lies in the county of Y on the north side of the river Z, surrounded by the forest of J.' The narrative proceeds in a similar manner to that of the Geographical opening, except that it is in the first person, and is usually written by Tobias Smollet rather than Henry Fielding.

As you will no doubt have worked out, the art of the opening was in its infancy until very recently. In modern times we have seen a return to the concept of In Media Res, the Greek technique of starting in the middle, proceeding on the beginning, and then moving to the end. A modern thriller might begin 'The Rugglington revolver (if you writer a thriller make sure you mention the manufacturer of all the guns, this will make the book sound well researched) jumped in my hand, and the man in black spun backwards toward the cliff edge.' A more punchy thriller writer might start his book 'Bang! went the Rugglington Revolver.' A writer more punchy still will just write 'Bang!' which brings us pretty close to the gripping, if unfortunately untranslatable opening sentence of Beowulf: 'Hwæt!' (the exclamation mark is implied rather than written, but like 'oy!' the word is hard to say without one).




But it was Anthony Burgess who wrote the book on opening lines. The book is Earthly Powers, and the opening line is 'It was the afternoon of my eighty-first birthday, and I was in bed with my catamite when Ali announced that the archbishop had come to see me.' If you must ignore my advice and actually read a book then Earthly Powers isn't a bad one to waste your time on, though it isn't a patch on the first sentence. It fulfills all the criteria for a good first sentence: it raises questions it cannot answer, it hints at a story far more interesting than the one about to be told, and it brings into the story characters who will become regrettable burdens by the end of the first page. A sentence like that is perfect, because the average reader will think 'only a really great writer could take an opening line like that and weave it into a full and complex story'. The average reader is a forgiving soul, and assuming he or she doesn't make it down the first page (and once you have a really excellent first sentence your next challenge is make sure that no prospective reader does make it through the first page) then he (or she) will assume that you have succeeded, and you are, in fact, a really great writer.


Anyway, here are some more first lines after the Burgess model:

It is now nearly Whitsun, and though I may still be persona non grata in many parts of Northumbria, Porson's worm and it's attendant properties are finally mine.

Marcus was playing backgammon with his late Uncle Millroy when the Admiral's gyrocopter landed on the east lawn.

'The Headmaster has left for Vienna' said Dr Nicodemus, his eyes flashing wildly in the light of the burning museum, 'and I fear that nothing on earth can stop him now'.


An incident

I walked into a pub with a copy of The Doctor is Sick in my hand (I had been reading it on the tube) and Dogtooth looked at me in surprise. 'You're reading something by Burgess other than A Clockwork Orange.' he noted astutely. 'Isn't that a bit leftfield?'