The Rhythm of Prose

Here's the opening sentence of Raphael Sabatini's Scaramouche: "He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad."

There's nothing overtly unusual about this sentence. Its words are short and ordinary. Its sentence structure is clear and uncomplicated. What makes it so catchy?

What grabs our attention here, I think, is the music underlying the words. Read the sentence aloud and tap your foot or finger as you feel the beat. To me it sounds like this:

He was BORN with a GIFT of LAUGHter // and a SENSE that the WORLD was MAD.

If we strip away the words, we can see that there's a pattern to the rhythm:

   da da DUM da da DUM da DUM da // da da DUM da da DUM da DUM.

Even if we're not consciously aware of it, our inner ear picks up the pattern; the rhythm of the sentence carries us, spellbound, to its end.

Here's another simple sentence full of music. It's the first line of Isak Dinesen's Out of Africa, and if you can remember how Meryl Streep delivered it in the film, you'll appreciate the sound effects even more:
"I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills."

"Style is a very simple matter: all rhythm," said Virginia Woolf. "Once you get that you can't use the wrong words."