I loved this book. One reason is the authors’ concession that classic style is but one of many valid styles of writing. Another is that the book is written in a way that exemplifies the style that it proposes. The book is in two parts of roughly equal length. The first half defines and describes classic style, the second half is a “Museum,” writing samples, mostly classic, but not all, with analysis by the authors. The book concludes with an appendix listing some books written in classic style, beginning with Audubon Field Guides, but covering many fields, from history and science to sport and cooking. It features not only Thucydides and Pascal, but also Jane Austen and Louise Brooks.
What is classic style? In one sense, it is a mode of writing practiced by a group of writers such as Descartes in 17th century France. Yet, as the authors show, it is not exclusive to French prose. They cite examples from American, British, Spanish and German authors.
One of the chief hallmarks of classic style is that it is disinterested. It doesn’t argue, it doesn’t have anything to sell. Its aim is to present clearly — to be a window on what it presents. This could be something as concrete as a tree or a painting, or something as abstract as quantum mechanics.
I liked the authors’ subtle distinction that the classic style is elitist but not exclusive. By elitist, they mean that those who write in classic style imagine a reader who, like them, expends the effort and discipline necessary to “get the essential things right” (p. 49). It is an open elite, however; anyone can join. The stance the practitioner of classic style takes toward his or her reader is conversational. It is a meeting of minds on an equal footing. The writer assumes that the reader would see things the same way if he were to stand in the same place.
Thomas and Turner outline further characteristics of classic style, in each case a decision about matters such as “cast,” “scene,” “language” and “thought,” as well as the enabling conventions that underly the style: certain decisions about the nature of truth and other matters. It is part of the honesty of the authors that they admit that classic style is inadequate for treating some topics: “The theology behind classic style does not admit that there is anything that counts as truth that cannot be presented briefly and memorably. In practice, this simply means that classic style prefers to limit its domain while tacitly claiming universal application” (p. 105).
An example of when not to use classic style is when a person in a powerful position is called before a congressional committee (see the analysis of testimony by Alan Greenspan, pp. 179—81).
It may well be true, as the authors assert, that there are many valid styles of writing. Yet while reading this book, I couldn’t suppress the wish that more writers would choose classic style and master it. ( )

This superb little book comprises an introduction to and explication of the 'classic' writing style, plus a 'museum' of annotated samples of this style drawn from all manner of writing.

Clear and Simple as the Truth is the single best book on writing well I've read; it's particularly exemplary in the way Thomas and Turner practice what they preach.

One caveat: this is not a basic manual for undergraduates or beginning writers. Appreciating its wisdom requires broad exposure to non-fiction writing, and experience writing functional prose. ( )