A Question of Style

Our controversial contributor Virgil Vaupel is well known for his curmudgeonly tales spiced with vitriolic viewpoints. I've been here less than a month and there is much we disagree about already. You'll read plenty about that in columns to come. Since he sounds off this week on a subject about which we largely agree (shocker!), I'm taking the opportunity to talk about how much I admire the guy.

During a recent lunch at the Cottonwood, Mr. Vaupel raised the bar on my estimation of his talents.

For starters, he introduced me to a journalism term that had escaped my attention during a decade in the business.

"Causerie," as commonly defined, is a naturalized French word that describes a breezy, informal, personal tone most frequently employed in opinion columns--even if many editors like myself are unaware of its existence.

Almost nobody knows or uses this excellent word, but they should. It will be put to work henceforth in these pages regularly. Thank you for that, good sir.

Though arcane, causerie is a pretty loaded and useful concept, implying mastery of the language, high stylistic marks and ingenuity. The key factor is a distinctive personal voice. Vaupel has all of the above in spades (or any other suit you like).

Whatever you may feel as a reader about Virgil's prerogative (there I go writing in causerie), nobody has seriously contested his writing skills thus far on my watch. I don't expect to hear any arguments on the point anytime soon.

The only criticism of any merit that I've come across regarding Vaupel's style is a vague dissatisfaction with his general tone and approach. He can at times appear to lose the general thread of his subject matter.

"I'm not even sure what it's about," complained one intelligent reader. "He just talks." The reader (not the only individual to point this out) is absolutely correct. He just talks. And it's intentional, thank goodness.

"Look, if you can talk you can write," said the late Christopher Hitchens, adding, "but how many people do you really enjoy listening to?" Vaupel is as much a pleasure to listen to as he is to read, whatever he happens to be banging on about. It shows on the page.

It also shows when the awards are handed out. This year, Vaupel is in the running at the Montana Newspaper Association Better Newspaper Contest, as are our own Boånnie Davidson, Lih-An Yang and former publisher and sports writer Jim Orr.

Unlike the other nominees, Vaupel isn't in the mix for his journalistic standards or his astonishing work ethic. In his case, it's pure writerly chops.

Vaupel recounts being approached by a journalism professor from a prestigious California university.

"I want to teach you to my students," she told him. "I want to use you to show my students how not to write."

Her tone at the time was playful, respectful and instructive. The important thing here is that she noticed our man and felt compelled to pay attention to him and his work.

Whether readers love or hate your work, goes the old saw, it's the noticing that you notice. Vaupel gets noticed.

As with many of the more subjective kinds of writing in our paper, readers are just as apt to dole out high praise for exactly this element of style. His fans don't really mind what he happens to select for a topic each week, they just want to hear him tell a good story.

Many of us do care about what Virgil has to say, sometimes because he offends or annoys us. Regardless, it's his prowess with the pen that has earned my appreciation. To drive home the point, I'll close with W.H. Auden (a far better writer than any of us):

Time that is intolerant

Of the brave and the innocent,

And indifferent in a week

To a beautiful physique,

Worships language and forgives

Everyone by whom it lives;

Pardons cowardice, conceit,

Lays its honours at their feet.

Time that with this strange excuse

Pardoned Kipling and his views,

And will pardon Paul Claudel,

Pardons him for writing well.