Clarifiying And Expanding Upon Yesterday's Post About Character

Before I move on to the next section in Wonderbook, I wanted to return to the idea of leading a reader in their understanding of a character.  The concept, described previously, is that causing a reader to recognize something about the character as true before it is overtly presented can help bring them to life.  For a reader, the experience is as if they are seeing the character, and the detail that they had only imagined being true creates a magical moment.  It is as though that character is real in some way, and they have an experience of them that is beyond the book alone. 

However, that explanation is a bit loose, so it felt appropriate to provide some further clarification.  For one thing, it should be understood that this is not about a character or any other aspect of a book being predictable.  Predictability is about the actions of a character.  While, certainly, a character must act in ways that are cohesive and stem from an internal presence, that is not the same as predictability.  The actions of a character are only as predictable as those of a close friend.  While we may have some sense of what actions are most likely, even the closest friend can take actions that we would not anticipate.  A character is a person, and as such they act from their inner drives in ways that have an internal logic and consistency, but readers are not always privy to this.

The point of this technique is to be able to create a detail of the character, something that is descriptive, and imply it through secondary details.  Consider things that are consistent with a quality you wish to describe, but are not so closely connected that they would be obvious.  For example, to describe a character as coughing can be used to either subtly or overtly imply they smoke.  In this case, it is a matter of how far the detail is pushed into the center of the readers focus.

This can also be achieved by creating a strong voice for a character and dialogue that implies other truths.  Even the sound of the character's voice can be used to foreshadow how they will appear in ways that are subtle, but still give a certain sense.  Consider the idea of using a celebrity as a model.  You will never name the person, but instead, start by describing their voice on the phone.  Now, well described, and with the appropriate dialogue, it can be possible to capture that person without naming them: Out" he paused, "in the: a deep breath, "world."  Already, that captures something of a character, and if I describe him as a bare chested man in his thirties with a sharp and confident look, it may be I don't need to mention him being a starship captain before the image of Kirk pops to mind.  Perhaps not.  This is merely about having that thought process of how to imply a person.  Consider what you imagine when you hear a voice on the radio or a podcast.  Describe what they look like, then see how close you are if you can find an image.  Ask others what they think a person looks like from their voice.

By getting an idea of the way a set of details can imply other details, it becomes possible to tell the reader more about a character at the start than they realize.  What is implied becomes cemented at later points as explicit detail.  In that transformation, it feels to the reader that they have had an intimate moment with the book in some way, as they recognize that they saw the character as described, but that this description was not presented yet.

Now, this is, of course, just a small thing that can create special moments in a story.  Alone, it is not that significant, for it can create a connection to the character, or at least a sense of them as a real person, it does not magically erase a readers awareness of other mistakes by the writer.  If the character is dull, or unbelievable, or otherwise detracting from the experience of a reader, this will not change things.  It is merely a way to amplify the sense the reader has of the character  A bit like that sprinkle of sea salt so popular on desserts these days: it does not change what is presented, but it can create a specific experience to make the entirety more powerful.

This technique is something that I also don't apply haphazardly, but with a structured understanding.  For one thing, it can be used for different purposes within stories.  If one wishes to make it a sense that the book has a certain overall quality, it is useful to create numerous moments that will connect with different characters.  In other cases, a reader's connection to one particular character may be significant.  This can be done for the hero in a solo adventure, for example, to make the reader feel more of a sense of that character.  It is particularly useful, though, to single out a character who is to have a special role late in a book, when the story has many equal characters for the rest of the story.  In such a case, the experience is created with one, or perhaps two, special character(s) who will play a key role at the end.  Imagine a large adventure where only one hero of ten will survive to finish the quest.  That one hero is, for the majority of the book, just another character.  The point is about the collective, and about the slow recognition over the journey that only one will be able to make it, that the rest will be sacrificed, and it is merely luck that will decide who, if any, reach the end.  In the narrative, the character is not singled out, and this is significant, but, as well, the reader having a special connection with that character will serve that ending well.

In such a story, though, one does not wish the thing which makes that character a favorite to be anything actually true of who they are.  If they are better than others in some way, or are more sympathetic, that can make the reason for the special status connect to their seeming rightness for the role.  Rather, it is better to have the sense that this is a special character seem to be organic and somewhat random.  By applying this technique in introducing just this character, we create a sense of the character that is distinctly and powerful, but is about how we presented them and can be used with any set of attributes.

In a work where I wish to apply it more generally, for a broader impact on the story, I would use techniques with smaller characters, spacing out the overt details across a longer period.  As well, I might not do as much with the main character or character's.  In this case, if the technique is used broadly, the main character is seen as distinct because we have a different sense of them.  Perhaps this is a first person narrative, and we have the sense that it is a magic of the speaker.  That the narrator is not included within that might make sense, and may speak of who they are.  In a third person narration, it creates a sense of that character as somehow being different.  Consider that, with many small and medium characters seeming to display this quality, it changes meaning.  The value is still strong, but it seems to suggest that, these smaller characters are somehow illusions or less real in some way, as they are so much in the mind of the reader, while the main character is a distinct thing from this. 

Of course, that is just a touch of what I am getting at, and I am sure that I did not provide all that much of the details about my meaning.  It may well seem that this seems ridiculous to some, but it is really about understanding how language communicates and what builds meaning on the deepest levels.  I am always happy to provide further clarification on these points in the comments, as I recognize that this may seem a bit more technical in terms of the use of a particular mode of implication.  The point is really about exploring how the reader can be given experiences in their reading, and how those experiences can be something that goes beyond overtly sharing the story itself.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Writer's Notebook, Day Two-Hundred-And-Fifty

Le Guin, Steering The Craft, Chapter Five: Adjectives and Adverbs (Exercise Five, Chastity)

A Writer's Notebook, Two-Thousand-And-Fifty-Nine