Writing about anything but doorjambs
To say a man 'leans against a doorjamb' is simple, clear, practical, descriptive, and plain. Anyone can process this sentence and understand what's happening, no further thought required. You might wonder why he's leaning there, or think that he's blocking someone from entering, but the investigation is essentially over. On to the next sentence!
To say a man 'drapes himself along the edge of the door' is evocative, emotive, and engaging. He is no mere man, but that and a length of fabric, perhaps at rest or perhaps to block the space as a curtain might hold the sun from a window. A thought behind his actions is suggested: draping is a delicate, quiet motion. You're not thinking he's there to block the entryway, but that he's exhausted or depressed. You also have a clearer mental image of what's going on.
In most cases we would agree the second saying is the superior one. But I'm having a hard time figuring out where phrases like that cease being emotive and useful and good and turn into pretentious blabber. Is it context? Is it repetition? Word choice? Personal mood?
My instinct is to try not to define a hard line between the two, as that seems against the spirit of writing to evoke. Even if I did manage to find a line, how could I strive not to cross it? The definition would have to focus on less concrete qualities of writing (meaning, feeling, etc.) It's not like there would be a formula for certain, precise words combined in a certain, precise way equals pretentious.
Of course, I couldn't help myself, and soon realized that part of this 'line' is probably related to disconnection.
The pretention that would creep into something like the above could come from a disconnect between the words and what is being described. The greater the distance, the more pretentious it sounds, as if our attention is shoved away from the topic and onto the words themselves: "and, like a willow dancing on the evening breeze, he let his body lean into the side of the door, arms dangling flat and useless, as a sigh escaped his lips."
(That's maybe more sappy than pretentious, but you get the point. Both are barf emoji.)
I also think there are authors who create that disconnect when they force themselves in the middle. Ever read someone who you swear worked with an open thesaurus beside them? Now you're thinking about their words, not what the words are about. The gap becomes a chasm.
Anyway, I want to stop thinking about it for now and hopefully navigate it more by feel. I'll cross the line again, I'm sure, and I'll not go quite far enough just as often. But that's truly how we find out where limits are.