Accent-studded prose. Pigeon English. Yea or Nay?
If inclusion or eschewing comes down to a debate, on which side do you stand?
As usual, I boldly straddle the center line of my own question. For me, most of the time, accents and pigeon English in prose are like Mark Twain’s clarinet, the “ill woodwind that nobody blows good.” Or almost nobody.
I find accents in written form disruptive. Clunky. Pushes against the graceful flow.
Other paths to the end: not so much of a challenge for me. An odd sentence form that represents, say, a non-English speaker’s accent or a British cadence…or slang…these are acceptable to my reader-eye—especially once the device establishes itself as a character’s signature. They can be persuasive; even charming. Like any device, I suppose, the proof is in the skill with which it is executed.
But what other avenues are open to us?
Take an example from my own work. A character in progress. A street artist, Real Deal. The jazz-musician riffs and rhythms of his speech are indications that he is, as his reputation proclaims, “batshit crazy.” His circlings and repetitions and Tourette’s-like exclamations are the evidences of the unhinged nature of his mind.
Without relying on the trite executions of accents—especially in Deal’s case as an African American—we come away from the page in possession of something more and better. A seeding of a greater notion in the plot.
We realize as time goes on, that craziness is the carefully-cultivated front for what Deal calls “persona.” The device becomes even more useful and appealing when we realize that he is much saner than he lets on—in fact, saner, steadier and wiser than most of his other companions. The artful shedding of his riff-man guise reveals the truth of him under his personal veil. A subtlety even more impactful than if he had been slathered in an overwrought urban accent.
Eccentricity in dialog is, for me, far more useful and effective than the labored, open-to-personal-interpretation of accents.
And I now pass the question along to you: How do you feel about accents baked into prose? How to you deal with them? How do you exert mastery over them? To writers as we are, the questions are as interesting as the answers.

8 comments
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January 31, 2013 at 8:34 am
Alexander M Zoltai
Like most issues of “what’s ‘right’” in writing, I must say, “It depends…”—depends on the character, plot, situation, writer, and audience…
Tho’, ‘taint ma place ta juge…
January 31, 2013 at 7:42 pm
lynnbiederstadt
AZ…never what’s right…I don’t believe that there’s ever one rule. Except spelling…
-lb
January 31, 2013 at 8:53 am
Dave Higgins
For me it depends on why the accent is there: I have no problems with one or two characters who are written with an accent in a book that is written in a dialect close to mine; if the entire book is written in a dialect in which I am not native I do not enjoy the plot because I need to translate.
So, when writing I try to balance dialect between all dialogue being written in my natural voice (which is fairly unrealistic and denies me language as an expression of character) and giving each character their own unique speech pattern and phonetic representation (which is probably realistic but would be hard to both write and read).
I posted on what the balance might be in different types of prose here.
January 31, 2013 at 7:41 pm
lynnbiederstadt
Dave, have any examples that you’d care to share?
-lb
February 1, 2013 at 5:28 am
Dave Higgins
Of my attempts to balance dialect levels? I am quite pleased with the balance between in Fair Shares. :
“Enough for a general to spent an hour telling us we ain’t pushing those mudhumpers back like his pencil says we should….” Sarge paused and looked from the wreck to the shattered bridge. “Or maybe a short carry to make up for all the generals we got to carry until this is over. That’s a lot of scrambled egg on those deaders. I reckon two big shots and a driver ain’t reinforcements. Likely these two seen we’re getting closer and weren’t going risk their fancy shoes getting any battle on them. Grabbed the stuff and made a break. We push the Zilf over the edge. Anyone finds it they think it went over when the bridge went. If the deaders had told someone they had this, which they probably ain’t, the drop and the river will make sure no one knows where anything is. We find some out-of-the-way place to stash it then we can all be rich when the mud dries.”
The complete short story is here.
February 21, 2013 at 8:50 am
mywithershins
I had to deal with this issue myself. In both my books, I had characters that were distinctly Scottish, some were French Canadian and then there was the native character who had learned English from a Scottish minister. It was difficult to coordinate all the dialects, but I did have some help with the Scots dialect so it wasn’t too overdone. The French might have been a bit over the top, but I took examples from conversations with my French in-laws and the publisher didn’t complain about the way I wrote those conversations, so I assume I did those all right. Turns of phrase, the odd quirk of a language incorporated into dialogues is really all that is needed so that the uniqueness of the character comes through.
Your ‘Deals’ character sounds intriguing and I’d love to see how you end up dealing with his dialect.
February 21, 2013 at 10:05 pm
lynnbiederstadt
MWS…I would love for you to see this thing. Real Deal is rapidly becoming a favorite character…and he doesn’t speak in dialect, but instead in rhythms and repetitions and made-up words. And the thing is, he actually is a Yale graduate from a wealthy family… very much fun revealing the non-riffing man beneath…. xo
February 21, 2013 at 11:16 pm
Alexander M Zoltai
Whoot !!