I blame Bia?oszewski. For the short sentences. In fact, fragmentary. Sentences, that is. Very annoying. He wrote a book once. Famous.
Pami?tnik z powstania warszawskiego.
It was called.
Miron Bia?oszewski wrote short, abrupt sentences in a sometimes successful attempt to capture and reflect the urgency and chaos of Warsaw during the uprising. Polish lends itself to this style, having many impersonal, one word constructions like “ciemno” (it is dark), or “cicho” (it is quiet). The novel is very highly thought of in Poland, as is witnessed by the numerous imitations of his style (see Marcinkiewicz’s blog), but it’s a long way from the high drama of the Warsaw uprising to the rather less exciting world Warsaw’s rising housing costs and short sentences just don’t cut it. Here is Magdalena Szwarc in today’s colour supplement to Gazeta Wyborcza writing about the apparently newly-discovered phenomenon of borrowing money to buy one’s home:
Heatwave. Marta looks into the cupboard. She could do with buying some tee-shirts. Not much of an expense, you’d think, but six or eight comes to a lot. She’ll wait till next month.
It pains her a bit.
The foreman shows them up to the fifth floor. Dust. The damp smell of concrete. It’s quiet because it’s Saturday. No one is working.
Ania has been nauseous all morning. She is pregnant.
They walk through the kitchen of their future neighbours at number 15 and through number 20’s living room. It’s dark. There are no windows.
From the third floor up the flats are cheaper
There will be a lift.
They go to see.
For more of the delightful and pleasant style of giving each sentence a paragraph all of its own, see the BBC news website.