“The Magic Art of Saying More with Less,” by McEwan, and Writing College Admissions Essays
As the gates to higher education swung open on August 1st, students across the nation found themselves diving headfirst into their college applications. This annual rite of passage, though anticipated, is no small feat. Among the myriad challenges faced during this period, a recurring question echoes in the corridors of uncertainty: "How can I encapsulate my entire life within the confines of a mere 650 words?"
Indeed, the Common App and supplemental essays pose a daunting task. Weaving one's life story, passions, and aspirations into a canvas as compact as a tweet can feel like threading a needle in a gusty wind. Yet, for those who embrace and wield the art of creative writing, this seemingly Herculean feat becomes an opportunity for brilliance.
Recently, we stumbled upon a timely and thought-provoking article penned by Malky McEwan, titled "The Magic Art of Saying More with Less." Strikingly, McEwan's insights echoed many of the sentiments we hold dear at The Ivy Institute. Our mantras such as "let your actions be your voice," the importance of "showing" over "telling" when addressing admissions officers, and the notion that colleges possess the keen ability to "read between the lines" all find resonance in McEwan's words.
McEwan's article sheds light on the profound truth that lies within these statements. Amidst the dynamic landscape of college applications, the canvas isn't merely limited to what a student chooses to express through words. Instead, it extends beyond—to the realm of what remains unspoken. It is within this interplay between the articulated and the unarticulated that a myriad of stories and possibilities unfurl.
Just as a skilled artist uses the spaces between brushstrokes to craft a more captivating image, so too can a student harness the power of omission, letting the unwritten sentences resonate with their own narrative. This is a world where the unwritten paragraphs often carry as much weight as those meticulously penned. This perspective transcends the conventional boundaries of storytelling, inviting students to wield the subtle art of suggestion and the eloquence of the unsaid.
McEwan's insights beautifully converge with our philosophy at The Ivy Institute, magnifying the intricate dance between words and the unspoken, narrative and implication. It underscores the notion that a well-crafted college application isn't merely a collection of words, but a tapestry interwoven with the subtlety of the untold.
Within the article, McEwan's insights resonated deeply with the journey of crafting effective and triumphant college application essays. Beyond captivating storytelling, McEwan delves into a realm where each word, meticulously chosen, becomes an instrument of nuance. McEwan guides us through the terrain of metonymy and synecdoche. Just as Leone's portrayal of a train station's details fuels intrigue, so too can the judicious use of these literary devices enhance the narrative economy of application essays.
McEwan states: Metonymy, the art of substituting a word or phrase with something related, mirrors how "the oval office" signifies not just a room but an entire administration. Metonymy bridges concepts and beckons readers to read between the lines.
“Metonymy is a figure of speech where we use a word to refer to something related to that thing, such as wheels to refer to a car. Wheels represent the entire car."
"Using metonymy we can say the pen is mightier than the sword where the pen stands for the written word and the sword stands for military aggression."
Synecdoche, is Metonymy’s sibling, imbues phrases like "all hands on deck" with vivid imagery and depth. In creative hands, these devices paint portraits that resonate, taking readers beyond the written word.
McEwan’s continues to say: “Synecdoche takes metonymy a step further. It is a figure of speech that involves using a part of something to represent the whole, or occasionally vice versa."
"A classic example of synecdoche is the use of the term hands to mean workers, as in all hands on deck."
"Synecdoche evokes mental imagery in the reader. You can’t read gray hairs should be respected without imagining the group of older people they are attached to."
"Synecdoche can be a part of something that represents the whole, vice versa is also true... Downing Street called a press conference. Streets, even one that houses the Prime Minister, don’t call a conference — that’s the job of the press secretary."
These techniques echo through casual dialogue, where the briefest allusion speaks volumes. As Caesar's "lend me your ears" commands attention, so too does a whispered nickname create vivid impressions, honing in on the essence of a person. With McEwan's guidance, students are poised to harness metonymy and synecdoche as tools for eloquence.
In the competitive arena of college applications, the pressure to excel can stifle creativity. Yet, as prospective scholars undertake the task of essay composition, they find a guiding light in the techniques employed by cinematic auteurs and literary wordsmiths. Just as Leone crafts tension in silence, so too can the aspiring student balance the unsaid with the written word.
The road to higher education is paved with stories waiting to be told, passions longing to be shared, and dreams yearning to be realized. And while the word count may appear limiting, it is in these confines that true artistry flourishes. As the curtain rises on this year's application season, may the wisdom of McEwan and the cinematic masters empower students to craft essays that not only captivate but also transcend the constraints, revealing the boundless potential within each carefully chosen word.
