In his story Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters, J. D. Salinger has one of his overgrown-child-genius characters declare that the famously short Gettysburg Address isn’t short enough—that if the speaker were “an absolutely honest man,” he would simply have stood on stage and shaken his fist. Irritating as we find this, we don’t doubt that you could tighten Abe’s speech a little if you were willing to throw rhythm and sonority out the window. Why would anyone do that? For the sake of a contest, of course! Crack your knuckles and don your green visors: it’s time for another round of “Editing the Classics.”
Here’s the original speech (following the standard Bliss text):
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
And here’s our own edited version:
Eighty-seven years ago our fathers founded in North America a new, free nation pledged to the idea that humans are created equal. Now we meet on a great battlefield of the civil war we’re fighting to test whether that nation, or any such, can live; we come to dedicate part of that field as a grave for those who died to save it. That’s only right. But ultimately we can’t dedicate, consecrate, or hallow this ground. Dead or alive, the heroes who fought here have done that better than we can. The world will ignore what we say here, but not what they did here. We the living should dedicate ourselves instead to their, and our, unfinished task—should reinvest ourselves in and vindicate these dead men’s noble cause, renewing our nation’s freedom so that government of, by, and for the people survives.
From a bloated 271 words and 1,452 characters (with spaces) we’ve carved out a svelte, rock-hard 143 words, 804 characters. Readers, can you do better? Leave your own edited Address in the Comments section (or email it to us—see Contact page) for your chance to win our Stylish Reader of the Week award. Remember to hew as closely as possible to the full sense of the original. Note also that we’ve resisted writing “Eighty-seven” as “87″ at the beginning of a sentence, since doing so would violate every style sheet and principle of decency known to man. We trust that you’ll follow suit.
In 1776 the founders kicked off the US of A, rooted in liberty and equality. But now there’s this war that might settle whether these ideas can make it anyplace. We’re here to bury some Civil War soldiers but we’re just not worthy on account of they fought and died for big ideas. We can say what we want and nobody’ll care, but what the soldiers did? Socko! Instead of dedicating the cemetery we should be dedicating ourselves – to the cause! Seriously, we might be the last hurrah for democracy.
Nicely done! Or should we say, Socko!
I can’t help but think of Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure:
“Be excellent to each other.. and PARTY ON, DUDE!”
Seriously, though, here’s mine:
“Not so long ago, this country was founded on the ideals of freedom and equality. Since then, we’ve let our standards slip and we’re embroiled in war. The soldiers here have died trying to uphold those standards that we should be living daily. We’re not worthy of the sacrifice they’ve made, but it is our duty to honor them by putting aside our petty squabbles and dedicating ourselves to the principles for which they so bravely fought.”
San Dimas High Schoool Football RULES!
The short version of mine is:
In the year 1776…
On the shores of a distant land…
Out of war…
A nation was born…
Less than a century later, war has returned.
Now, it’s up to a new leader…
…to mend this broken land.
Or… if you want the full cinematic treatment:
FADE IN
Out of blackness, a Union Jack flag is waving
Narrator:
In the year 1776…
The camera pulls back from the flag to show green rolling hills, a colonial house, and the Potomac River in the background. A young boy is lowering the Union Jack. A snare drum beats into the background, slowly.
Narrator:
On the shores of a distant land…
Ships in a harbor. Red coated soldiers are marching along the docks. The dirty streets of colonial Boston. An officer yelling something inaudible. The Boston tea party.
Narrator:
Out of war…
A quick montage of war scenes, men in powdered wigs, cannons exploding. Dense operatic music scored with a variety of explosions. Patrick Henry being hung. As his body falls, a colonial-era American flag is raised.
Narrator:
A nation was born…
Less than a century later, war has returned.
Slaves being sold. Hounds baying in fields at the end of leashes. The opening shots at Fort Sumter. The American flag waving behind battle lines. Blue coats, grey coats. The flag falls. A solder reaches for it.
Narrator:
Now, it’s up to a new leader…
A camera slowly moves over Washington DC, gaining speed as it closes in on the front of the White House. The camera moves through the front window and stops on the desk in the oval office where a black stove pipe hat rests on the shining wood of the President’s desk.
Narrator:
…to mend this broken land.
We see a large man dressed in a dark suit scoop that hat up from the desk, pulling it onto his head with a twist as the camera pans around him. It’s LINCOLN.
Lincoln:
Grab your bags. We’re going to Gettysburg.
A second large montage of war scenes. A cavalry charge, horses jumping over a trench. A news paper with the words Bloody Kansas! in screaming bold letters. The operatic techno music roars back in. Massive explosions of dirt. A field littered with bodies. A soldier on crutches.
Narrator:
This summer…
There.
Will.
Be.
Peace.
FADE TO TITLE SHOT
The Address
Based on a true story
All we can say is, wow. The “full cinematic version ” is not only longer than the original address, we think it might be longer than our entire post. That level of effort deserves some kind of recognition.
It’s only longer on paper. On film it would barely last 2 minutes, which means it would likely be shorter than the address given by Lincoln, and a bigger popcorn draw.
Another strong entry by MoJay. The race is heating up! (We won’t touch the Bill & Ted.)
Here’s my effort (140 words):
It is 87 years since this continent saw the birth of a new nation, free and where all are equal. Now we are at war with each other, testing whether a free and egalitarian nation can survive. We meet now on a great battlefield of that war, to honour this field where many fell that that nation might live. As we should. But, we cannot make this ground holy; rather it is made sacred by those brave men, living and dead, who fought here. Our words will soon be forgotten, but what they did here is indelible. We, the living, must continue their noble, unfinished task. Lest they die in vain, their fervour unto death should inflame ours for their cause: that this nation, under God, be reborn in freedom, and government of, by and for the people should endure.
I’d love to see the full cinematic version of the Lord’s Prayer!
Here’s my take:
Eighty-seven years ago, our ancestors created this new nation for Liberty and equality for all humans. Now we are fighting a civil war, testing our endurance. We meet on a great battlefield to dedicate a cemetery for soldiers who died for this country; it is fitting, but not necessary, because those soldiers who fought here have already consecrated this ground, better than we could. The world will not know what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. We the living should finish the noble work they began here. We should make sure their deaths matter–that this nation, with God’s help, should restore freedom and keep governance of, by, and for the people.