Playful; Melodic; A Little Bit Fancy
We don't know about you, but we appreciate a short story that's really short. O. Henry is known as one of the masters of this form, especially because of his "twist" endings. (You know where to go for info on that: "What's Up With the Ending?") In his one and only interview, he gives away the secret of his success. Aspiring writers, read on:
I'll give you the whole secret of short-story writing. Here it is. Rule 1: Write stories that please yourself. There is no Rule 2. The technical points you can get from Bliss Perry [an American editor]. If you can't write a story that pleases yourself you'll never please the public. But in writing the story forget the public. (20)
Hmmm. Very interesting. This might not work for everybody, but it sounds like decent advice. Between 1898 and 1910 (when he died), O. Henry wrote hundred of short stories. But even O. Henry got what he called "dry spells," or writer's block. Ready for more advice?
When one of these spells comes on, I quit trying to work and go out and see something of life. You can't write a story that's got any life in it by sitting at a writing table and thinking. You've got to get out into the streets, into the crowds, talk with people, and feel the rush and throb of real life that's the stimulant for a story writer. (20)
Aha! Now there's some advice we can use. Go take a walk already. When you come back we'll still be here talking about the specific style of "The Cop and the Anthem."
Playful
Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward. He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black […]. If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected success would be his. The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter's mind. (8)
This passage doesn't seem to be making fun of Soapy, or feeling overly sorry for him either. By giving us this comical image of a man who's a gentleman from the waist up and a bum (in the polite sense of the world) from the waist down, O. Henry encourages us to relax and enjoy Soapy's adventures. Imagine if O. Henry had wanted us to feel sorry for Soapy, or to find his story tragic. He might have phrased things very differently.
Until the part of the story where Soapy has his change of heart, Soapy's night of trying to get thrown in jail is told like an playful adventure, rather than, say, a desperate attempt to find food and shelter. This is probably meant to show us how Soapy himself feels about his situation. Until he realizes he could have something better, he doesn't seem to take his problem of finding food and shelter that seriously.
Melodic
O. Henry was also a singer. According to one bio, "as a bachelor, he enjoyed singing with the Hill City Quartet, known for serenading young women on the streets of Austin" (source). This might help account for the melodic, almost song-like arrangement of his words. Here's one example,
Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint […] and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed but a rosy dream. (43)
Read this out loud for a moment and see how it rolls off the tongue like lyrics to a song. The words "rosy dream" sound poetic. Of course, O. Henry is maintaining his already playful tone. We can't forget—Soapy's "rosy dream" is a jail cell.
This melodic quality builds throughout the story, preparing us for the moment Soapy hears the church organist playing the anthem. Things get really melodic for a few moments. This melodic quality helps us feel something of the melody Soapy is hearing:
There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering. Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. (43)
We can almost hear Johnny Cash or even Taylor Swift singing these lines while strumming along with their guitars. We notice, though, that the playfulness drops out of the story. This reflects Soapy's changed mood.
Now Soapy is serious and enthralled. Instead of seeing life as a kind of joke (not that there's anything wrong with that), the anthem makes Soapy sees life as both serious and beautiful, something worth taking a chance on again. This use of melody to help get across Soapy's different moods is pretty smart, don't you think?
A Little Bit Fancy
O. Henry was writing his stories in the early 1900s. As you might have noticed, American writers from that period had a tendency to be a little bit fancy with their words. What do we mean by "fancy"? We mean twisty-turny sentences and a fondness for SAT-type words. Let's just take a look at the second paragraph of the story,
A dead leaf fell in Soapy's lap. That was Jack Frost's card. Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call. At the corners of four streets he hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants thereof may make ready. (2)
Now O. Henry could have just said, "A dead leaf fell in Soapy's lap. This is winter's warning to the people that they need to get ready for cold days." Readers in the 2000s might even prefer a sentence like that. For example, look at Stephenie Meyer's writing style in her Twilight novels. These novels were and are insanely popular among people of all age groups. We think Meyer's very plain, clear, detailed style are a reason for this. Anybody can read these books and not have to break their heads over a rock to understand what's going on. For example, this sentence:
It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. (Twilight, 1.70)
We don't have to think about it—we just know instantly what is meant here. Not so with O. Henry. By contrast, we might have to dig around a little to understand what O. Henry is talking about, especially at the beginning of the story.
O. Henry didn't gain major popularity until after his death, during World War I, when his stories provided comfort to many people in very difficult times (source). In those days, his stories were very accessible—they were read and easily understood by lots of people. Cultural references, styles of speech and vocabulary, what was popular—O. Henry was able to capture this for the people of the early 1900s.
Today, only a handful of O. Henry stories are widely read, though his books are still in print. It's possible that the fancy part of his writing style is off-putting to some readers. The big question is, how do you feel about this? Have a look at some other stories from The Four Million to get a wider look at O. Henry's work—only if you feel like it, of course.